May 12, 2025 – Live at the Village Gate


Welcome to Next to Silence—I’m Dave, and today we’re stepping into one of jazz’s most legendary rooms: The Village Gate. From the early ’60s through the club’s final notes in the ’90s, the Gate was a sanctuary for improvisation, intensity, and innovation. What you’re about to hear are moments captured live—raw, soulful, and swinging—from artists like Nina Simone, Jimmy Smith, Mongo Santamaría, and Horace Silver. These aren’t just performances; they’re time capsules from a smoky basement where history was made one solo at a time. So settle in. The lights are low, the crowd’s buzzing. Let the music speak.

Playlist for the week of May 12, 2025 ☞

00:00 Nina Simone – “Just in Time”

08:55 Mongo Santamaría – “El Toro – Live”

15:25 Clark Terry – “Serenade to a Bus Seat”

22:42 Herbie Mann – “Comin’ Home Baby – Live”

31:15 Jimmy Smith – “The Champ”

39:05 Coleman Hawkins – “All the Things You Are”

47:16 Nina Simone – “House of the Rising Sun”

51:52 Milt Jackson Quintet – “Time After Time”

57:28 Horace Silver Quintet – “Doin’ the Thing”

A Found Poem From The Films of Paul Thomas Anderson

“The Shape of What Remains”

I have so much love to give.
I just don’t know where to put it.

I don’t know what kind of girl I am.
I don’t know what kind of man I am.
Sometimes I think I’ve forgotten how to be a person.

Then you came along,
and I felt something
I didn’t know I could feel.
That has to mean something.

I can’t imagine life without you—
but I still don’t know how to live with you.
Connection feels like pressure.
Connection feels like grace.

There’s a part of you
you haven’t met yet.
It’s the part that keeps trying.

Everything is connected,
but I don’t feel connected.
I’ve lost people.
I’ve lost time.
Now I lose myself
a little more each day.

I want to know you
the way the sea knows the moon—
even as it pulls away,
it never stops reflecting light.

This is the part where you reach for my hand,
but only in your mind.
In real life, we both just sit there,
close,
almost touching.

You don’t choose the things you believe in.
They choose you.
But what if they stop choosing?

People don’t always tell you how they feel.
But they show you,
in the quiet.

If you leave,
I’ll forget how to breathe right.
If you stay,
I’ll have to remember how to be whole.

I miss who I was
when I didn’t know so much.
But maybe
this is who I am now.

Some love is soft.
Some love is a decision.
Some love
is the silence
between the words
we never said.

This is the part where we let go
without ever having held on.

Seven of Cups

They were Georgia Boots,
Comfort Core.
No comfort left.
Soles gone to hell,
inlay peeled like burnt skin
on a long drunk  summer.

He used to wear ’em
to the docks—
not for the job
just to look like he had one.
Said the boots gave him posture
even when he had none.

The bench was his confessional.
“Seven cups,” he muttered,
“they all looked good
in the morning fog.”

Money.
A woman who called him “baby.”
A trailer with a flag, a fridge
full of cheap beer.
A crappy transistor radio
always tuned to the same static.
He liked the noise more than silence—
silence reminded him
of his old man’s fists
and the day he slammed the door
and never came back.

She came like the others—
eyes like storm warnings,
barefoot in winter,
mouth full of someone else’s song.
He loved her
like a fire:
too close,
too long,
burned down to bone.

Every choice-
a ghost
that kissed his cheek
and walked off with his wallet.

He died right there,
on the bench that knew his weight,
where the pigeons ignored him
and the cops didn’t bother.

Boots side by side,
one insole flopped out
like a tired tongue,
a half-smoked cigarette still warm
in the groove of the slats.
No note. No name.
Just a man 

who kept picking
the wrong cup.

Portland, Maine

NOTE:
I carry my camera with me wherever I go. One day, after photographing a pair of abandoned, laceless boots, I began to wonder who might have left them behind and what his story could be. In a moment of synchronicity, the tarot card I pulled that day was the Seven of Cups—a card associated with choices, illusions, desires, and the tension between fantasy and reality.

Introduction to African Music – May 5, 2025

On this week’s show we take a musical journey across the vast and vibrant continent of Africa. We’ll be hearing voices and rhythms from nine African countries — including Nigeria, Senegal, Ghana, Zimbabwe, Uganda, Libya, Benin, South Africa, and the Democratic Republic of Congo.
Each artist tonight brings their own story, sound, and spirit — together forming a living tapestry of what African music can be.

Playlist for the week of May 5, 2025 ☞

00:00:00 Fela Kuti- “Zombie”

00:14:42 Johnny Clegg; Savuka – “Cruel Crazy Beautiful World”

00:19:04 Oyihwam Internationals – “Anoma Franoas”

00:26:38 Angélique Kidjo; Alicia Keys; Branford Marsalis – “Djin Djin”

00:31:14 -Youssou N’Dour; Etoile De Dakar -“Immigrés”

00:39:00 Hamid Al Shaeri -“Ayonha”

00:44:13 King Sunny Ade -“E Dide E Mujo”

00:48:26 Hallelujah Chicken Run Band -“Mudzimu Ndiringe”

00:51:41 William Onyeabor-“Atomic Bomb”

00:59:37 The Lijadu Sisters -“Life’s Gone Down Low”

01:04:29 Geoffrey Oryema -“Makambo”

01:09:29 Orchestra Baobab -“Ndeleng Ndeleng”

01:17:36 Konono N°1 -“Wumbanzanga”

A reminder:

Next To Silence streams live at:

1700AM and on the web at PeaksIslandRadio.com

On:

Mondays Fridays @7:00PM

Tuesdays @Noon

You can find the archives of past shows at PeaksIslandRadio.com. Click on SCHEDULE – scroll down to NEXT TO SILENCE

Thanks for listening,

Dave

Try a Little Tenderness


The wolf should've snapped her neck.
The deer should've bolted.
hat's the law, right?
Kill or run.
How it's supposed to be.
How it always was.

But here they are -
him in a secondhand suit
smelling like old rain and bad decisions,
her draped in a dress made of soft mistakes.

He's thinking,
another kill won't fix the hunger.
She's thinking,
another escape won't fix the fear.

And outside the glass,
the world hums along,
hungry for blood,
hungry for failure,
hungry for the beautiful ruin of it all.

They lean into each other
like broken doors swinging on the last hinge,
not lovers,
not saviors,
just two things too tired to keep lying.

The world wants them to hate,
to run,
to tear each other apart.

What they do instead -
this slow, brutal, stupid tenderness -
is the worst kind of rebellion.

The glass between them and the street
is spidered with cracks -
each one a little white lie the world told,
each one a rule they broke.

He's melting at the edges now,
becoming a man, becoming a memory,
becoming something the wolf was never meant to be.

She shimmers,
not prey anymore,
not even real maybe,
just some miracle walking
through the wreckage.

Sirens smear across the sky,
time drips down the walls,
and still they sit -
choosing each other in a world that stopped believing.

This is what survival looks like sometimes:
not teeth,
not speed,
but a hand on a shoulder,
a weight leaned into,
a promise made with nothing but breath.

and they sit shoulder to shoulder,
defying the ugly machines that built them,
trading the last thing that matters:
the stupid, beautiful, suicidal act
of choosing tenderness
when nothing else makes sense.


Lenox, Massachusetts

On The Road – April 28, 2025

On this week’s show we hit the road. Not just any road, but the winding, dusty, shimmering kind—where stories stretch across yellow lines, and every turn carries its own rhythm.

From dusty crossroads to inner pilgrimages, from backseat singalongs to the strange alleys of the subconscious—this is a journey across musical highways, detours, and dead ends that still somehow lead us home.

So pack light, breathe deep, and let the road unfold.

Playlist for the week of April 28, 2025:

00:00:00 Ray Charles – “Hit the Road Jack”

00:03:30 Willie Nelson – “On The Road Again”

00:06:00 Roger Miller – “King of the Road”

00:08:23 Canned Heat – “On The Road Again”

00:11:46 John Denver – “Take Me Home, Country Roads”

00:15:31 Elton John – “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”

00:18:43 The Beatles – “The Long and Winding Road”

00:22:20 Rascal Flatts – “Bless the Broken Road”

00:26:03 Lauren Alaina – “Road Less Traveled”

00:30:22 Steve Earle – “Copperhead Road”

00:34:50  Bob Dylan – “On the Road Again”

00:37:22 Robert Johnson – “Cross Road Blues”

00:39:50 Bruce Springsteen – “Thunder Road”

00:45:31 Talking Heads – “Road to Nowhere”

00:49:50 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band – “Yellow Brick Road”

00:52:15 The Beatles – “Why Don’t We Do It in the Road?”

00:53:54 The Doors – “Roadhouse Blues”

00:58:51 Joni Mitchell – “Refuge of the Roads”

01:05:28 Yusuf / Cat Stevens – “On the Road to Find Out”

01:10:35 UB40 ft. Tippa Irie – “On the Road”

01:13:58 Tom Waits – “On The Road”

01:21:37 Readings from On The Road – Jack Kerouac

I’m No Longer Broken

I pass him every morning
on my way to the bus—
the skeleton with wings,
painted crooked on the bodega wall.
At first, he made me uneasy.
Too bold, too broken,
arms raised like he knew something
I didn’t want to hear.

The words above his head—
I’M NO LONGER BROKEN—
felt like a dare.
Who says that out loud?

But weeks turned into months,
and somehow
I started looking for him.
On gray days
his grin felt like defiance.
On warm mornings
the light hit just right,
like he was lit from the inside.

People tagged around him,
but no one painted over.
Not once.

I don’t believe in miracles,
but I believe in
what you get used to,
what grows on you,
what begins to speak
without ever moving its lips.

These days,
I nod to him—
a small, silent thing.
Not because I understand,
but because I think
he sees me, too.

New York City

Doo Wop Part 3 – April 21, 2025

Dear Friends,

This week on Next To Silence we drift back to the glow of street lamps and transistor radios, to harmonies that once echoed off stoops and fire escapes with the third and final journey through the heart of doo wop—songs of devotion, heartbreak, summer nights, and promises whispered beneath porch lights. From the innocent to the smoldering and back again, let the voices carry you somewhere just out of reach, just next to silence.

The playlist for the week of April 21, 2025 ☞

00.:00:00 The Moonglows – Sincerely

00:04:49 The Cadillacs – Speedo

00:06:57 The Crew Cuts – Sh-Boom

00:09:42 The Platters – Only You (And You Alone)

00:12:17 The Drifters – Save the Last Dance for Me

00:14:48 Jerry Butler – For Your Precious Love

00:17:32 The Duprees – You Belong To Me

00:20:18 The Dreamlovers – When We Get Married

00:22:42 Rosie & The Originals – Angel Baby

00:26:24 The Mello-Kings – Tonite Tonite

00:32:12 The Danleers – One Summer Night

00:34:24 Shep & The Limelites – Daddy’s Home

00:37:16 The Marvelettes – Playboy

00:40:00 Hank Ballard – Work With Me Annie

00:42:30 Hank Ballard – Annie Had a Baby

00:45:09 Billy Ward & The Dominoes – Sixty Minute Man

00:47:38 The Del-Vikings – Oh Tonight

00:52:53 Carla Thomas – Gee Whiz (Look at His Eyes)

00:55:06 Chuck Jackson – Any Day Now

00:58:48 Jesse Belvin – Goodnight My Love

01:01:55 The Cadillacs – Gloria

01:04:46 The Spaniels – Goodnite Sweetheart, Goodnite

01:07:29 The Pentagons – To Be Loved (Forever)

01:09:57 Jackie Wilson – Lonely Teardrops

01:12:34 Dion – Donna the Prima Donna

01:15:26 The Drifters – This Magic Moment

01:17:52 Little Anthony & The Imperials – I’m On the Outside (Looking In)

01:20:58 The Echoes – Baby Blue

01:28:20 The Essex – Easier Said Than Done

Next To Silence streams live at:

1700AM and on the web at PeaksIslandRadio.com

On:

Mondays Fridays @7:00PM

Tuesdays @Noon

You can find the archives of past shows at PeaksIslandRadio.com. Click on SCHEDULE – scroll down to NEXT TO SILENCE 

Thanks for listening,

Dave

Benefits Pending

The boardwalk ends like a pension plan
that stopped showing up.
A sign says area closed,
but the ocean never followed rules.

Planks slump like ex-employees
waiting for purpose to call back.
Shadows come and go—
no clock, no punchline, just habit.

They called it retirement—
a view, some quiet, the slow reward.
But it feels more like a layoff
nobody bothered to announce.

No memos, no coffee, no names left to forget.
Just wind filing its own report.
I lean on the rail, light fading.
So this is what all the meetings were for.

New Smyrna Beach, Florida

The Lost Dress

There it hangs like it forgot something,
like maybe it left its body behind—
too clean, too soft, too damn dreamy
for this busted room and crooked light.

Bella wore it drunk, barefoot, laughing
through the wreckage of her last good thought.
Said she’d marry a trumpet player.
She didn’t. She left it on a fire escape.

Luna danced in it once—
no shoes, no god, just rain.
She drowned in her bathtub,
water humming hymns, dress breathing.

And Zoe? Zoe wore it to the trial,
eyes full of dust from forgotten dreams.
She left it spinning on a motel fan,
a slow ghost orbiting her exit wound.

The cleaning lady touches it with gloves,
crosses herself, whispers to the floor.
She’s seen blood come out of tile grout—
but never anything that shrieks like this.

No one claims it now, while
it drapes over air like it’s trying to disappear.
Some say it hums when no one’s near,
a lullaby with teeth behind the silk.

Gardiner, Maine