Things have been admittedly quiet on the Pop Smatters front…so much so that my old co-host Forrest even stepped up to pinch-hit on PSXXV.

A lot of that’s my fault: traveling, scads of weddings, and life in general kept me away from the DJ booth much of the summer, and the defection of two of my bosses meant that this fall I’ve shouldered a lot more work when I would otherwise be writing reviews. But it also had to do with the musical spectrum itself: there weren’t a lot of standout “must listen” tracks coming through the station. There were a lot of standout whole albums though, and it was nice to see them get the attention they did—I didn’t need to push Sufjan Stevens, M.I.A., or Death Cab for Cutie, because the indie and even the mainstream presses did a great job getting the word out.

Now that fall has come around though, it’s nice revisiting many of those albums, especially since—M.I.A. excepted—they weren’t really summer albums, in the fun, toe-tapping, backyard-BBQ sense. Instead there was a lot of melancholy in the air this summer, starting with Stevens’s Illinois, and continuing right through Erin McKeown’s We Will Become Like Birds, Nickel Creek’s Why Should the Fire Die? and into Feist’s Let it Die. And though that wistful sadness was good this summer—on rainy days and warm evenings and on Sunday nights after weekend guests had gone home—it’s even better now, as you’re shrugging into coats and shrugging off the cold to go outside and get a few autumn walks in while you can.

So dig out Death Cab for Cutie’s Plans. Skip the tracks you already know by heart, like “Soul Meets Body,” which you had set to repeat all July, or “Marching Bands of Manhattan” and “Crooked Teeth.” And instead go to the fifth track, “I Will Follow You Into the Dark.” Put on a sweater, and walk through leaf-strewn sidewalks. Think of going back to school…not the excitement of September, but the quiet assaults of October:

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule / I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black / And I held my tongue as she told me, “Son / Fear is the heart of love,” so I never went back

And hope for true connection and companionship with another soul, even as you face the unknown of the one journey that can only be made alone:

The time for sleep is now / It's nothing to cry about / 'Cause we'll hold each other soon… / …If there's no one beside you / When your soul embarks / Then I'll follow you into the dark

Even though it’s not about fall, there probably hasn’t been a better fall song since Beat Happening’s “Indian Summer.” So give it a spin; it is definitely a Track You Should Be Listening To Right Now.

“I Will Follow You Into the Dark” has a special poignancy for me, as it is the last song I played on my regular radio show on 88.1 WMUC-FM College Park. I have given up my show, at least for the time being, though I may still do fill-ins and help out some.

The reason for this is because a few weeks ago I got a call from the general manager of 89.7 WTMD Towson/Baltimore, who listened to my show and liked what he heard…so much so that he offered me an interview on the spot. So after 8+ years of doing this for fun, I’ve been called up to the majors to DJ professionally. That’s right kids: Dwight’s getting paid!

I’m being given a trial run on Saturdays from 10 AM-3 PM (when I’m not preëmpted by sporting events, like this week, so I’m only on till 1 PM). It’s a big change—a lot longer show, much less rock (fans of Philly’s WXPN and The World Café will feel right at home with my new show), and a much more defined playlist, but also an exponentially larger audience at a really interesting and (in this age of conglomeration) independent and important station. It’s listener-supported and an NPR affiliate, which is all really exciting to be a part of.

So pleased give me a listen, this Saturday from 1000-1300, and most Saturdays from 1000-1500. I’m on your dial and streaming on the Internet, and I could use a few familiar ears as I venture into this very new and unfamiliar airspace.