My first professional radio gig was with an extremely small commercial AM station in North Central Ohio. Possessing a rudimentary knowledge of tape editing and basic audio flow, I managed to get an audition for an on-air position from the station’s General Manager after utilizing what I thought was a bit of personal charm, industry jargon and urbane wit. Asked to produce two :60 radio spots, I was handed the sketchiest of fact sheets outlining the client for whom the commercials were to be made and was set loose in the production studio to create something of substance. I emerged sometime later, product in hand and with that, my audition was concluded. No interview, no tour of the facility, nothing. I hadn’t even been asked to spin a record or read a news story! When I received a callback six weeks later to discuss an start date for a midday slot, I nearly fell out of my chair. Arriving at the studios for our negotiations, I was startled to hear my voice mysteriously emanating from the lobby monitor that softly carried the station’s signal. Prodding the G.M. for an explanation, he informed that the two spots I had produced one and a half months earlier had been airing ever since. He went on to gloat that regardless of whether or not I was even considered for the position, he had gotten two produced commercials out of me, effectively avoiding any talent fees. Uncertain whether to be stunned or flattered, I accepted the position despite his underhandedness and in time came to realize that he had done this with every applicant prior, and would continue for those to come! This was my entry to the working world of commercial radio. At the time, the prospect of living in North Central Ohio was as foreign to me as 9 a.m. is to a working musician. In retrospect (and now that I’m older), bicycling past endless miles of cornfields on deserted country roads, swimming in fresh water quarries on hot summer days and laying in grassy meadows watching stars shoot through a sky as black as tar paper seems rather sublime, but at the time, it was like watching grass grow. I was in some mid-westernMayberry, fully expecting to run into Opie or Goober at any turn. One redemptive factor was the stations close proximity to Oberlin College, the fine arts campus on the shores of Lake Erie that overflowed with pretty bohemian coeds surprisingly intrigued by faux-beatnik novice radio DJ’s. The fascination was reciprocal, I might add.
News reporting was also became part of my job description. It was during the noon hour that I dutifully delivered two daily segments that still remain memorable in my mind, ‘The Hospital Report’ and ‘The Farm Report;’ the former a complete listing of daily admissions, discharges and births from the surrounding wards and the latter a comprehensive overview of current crop rotations, market futures and grain prices (none of which I really understood. I simply read the copy). Imagine then the quantum leap one year later when I moved to KRE-FM in Berkeley, California, that den of liberalism and activism where I delivered a weekly ‘Drug Report,’ a short list of prices, availability and warnings for street drugs making the rounds in Bay Area communities. Add to this a rich library of jazz titles in a free-form setting and it was a heady mix. I had gone from quiet nights to all-nights, easy listening to hard bop, pork futures to bad acid. It was the beginning of a wild ride.
THE WOLFMAN IN KRE'S MAIN STUDIO, CIRCA 1971
Throughout it's long history, the KRE studios largely remained headquartered along the perimeter of the Berkeley marina. By the 1970's, the station had become a highly respected progressive music outlet and spiritual home to a new generation of jazz musicians.* One of KRE's many claims to fame was it's use as the set for Wolfman Jack's appearance in George Lucas' 'American Graffiti.'** Through the magic of movie making, the film portrays the studio at the end of a desert road somewhere just south of the U.S./Mexican border, although in reality, a major U.S. Interstate roared a 100 yards away and the harbor lights twinkled from the water's edge.As I have previously offered, here are two music sets that are similar to what you might have heard during my on-air years at KREATIVE KRE. The authentic 'Winterland' and 'Avalon Ballroom' radio spots reflect advertisements from a few years earlier and were actually culled from another station's archive. Volume levels vary slightly from track to track as they do come from disparate sources, but the mood, music and vibe are all relatively indicative of my late night programming at KRE.
Part One
1) Black Renaissance/Black Renaissance
2) Scorpio Blue/Julian Priester
3) Some Time Ago/George Duke
4) Tribe/Horacee Arnold
5) Why Not/Bobby Hutcherson
6) Winterland Spot
7) El Gato/Gato Barbieri
8) Lament For Miss Baker/Brian Auger
9) The Phantom/Duke Pearson
Part Two
1) Avalon Ballroom Spot
2) 59 Go And Pass/Nat Adderley
3) Thembi/Pharoah Sanders
4) Penumbra/Bennie Maupin
5) The Ghetto/Danny Hathaway
6) EBS Test
7) Portrait Of Tracy/Jaco Pastorius
8) Time And Space/Eddie Henderson
9) Peaceful Ones/Lonnie Liston Smith
10) Kwanzaa/Karma
11) Tower Records Spot
12) Genesis/Charles Sullivan
13) Country Preacher/Cannonball Adderley
*See August 30, 2007 post, 'Lights Out, San Francisco'
**The studio utilized in the film was the primary KRE-FM control room. KRE-AM had a separate studio which simulcast the FM programming, except between 12AM and 6AM which was automated.


1 Comments:
Interesting story. When I met McClay, he told me he had been visiting (if I remember right, or doing something else) at some radio station, and the guy who was supposed to be on air never showed up, and his DJing career started. Those were the days.
Sad that corporations have taken over the air waves, although there are still some school stations out here anyway that attempt some creative music mixings.
Cheers!
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