I’m not sure which interest came first, Wilco, or number stations, for me. I’d like to be romantic and think that I discovered number stations all on my own and then, sometime later, stumbled upon Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and became enthralled with it as well.

I have a vague memory of hearing some psychedelic freak-out coming from my roommate’s speakers in 2004. I asked him what it was and he said, “It’s Wilco, some live thing,” with a confused look on his face, like he didn’t like this part of it. I liked it, however, and was surprised because, well, I didn’t know a thing about Wilco but I thought they were kind of country and wimpy and I just don’t think I was that indie in 2004. I mean, this little album by Wilco is considered super indie, right? So indie it wasn’t even allowed release? I mean, that’s indie, right?

I love music that descends (or ascends) into noise. I love the sound of walls of guitars beating beaten and broken, feedback loops (of the non-ear-piercing variety). This song is also fun to sing to, for some reason.

This is a good album, and I don’t need to say it is, pretty much everyone who would like it knows about it and me posting it here is largely pointless. We’re here for something else! Something else that Wilco tried to rip off somewhat shamelessly and then had to eat their hats for, as it were.

The Conet Project – The Lincolnshire Poacher

Can’t Buy It from Amazon

Number stations are funny things, if you have any sort of imagination. The short of it is that they are radio stations that broadcast halfway around the world at random times, filled with random sounds and random numbers or letters, encrypted in such a way as to be absolutely unbreakable. No one knows who they come from or for what nefarious purpose! Such mystery!

This one even has it’s own page on Wikipedia, complete with broadcast schedule. These things pop up everywhere now. Scattered throughout Fallout 3 are a great many antennas which power on to turn on number stations. I just watched Sunshine recently (which, aside from a highly confusing end battle and Rose Byrne being all sorts of attractive all over the place, wasn’t really worth watching) and the distress signal the ships use sounds hauntingly like a number station.

I like government conspiracies, they intrigue me, though I know they are mostly entirely bullshit. However, the existence of number stations allude to the idea that there is some reality in all that bullshit. Somewhere, at some time, there is someone where they shouldn’t be, and they’re tuning into that number station and finding out where the next place they shouldn’t be is. How sick is that?