I remember noticing early on: just how pious of a man my father was.
Every time he’d get excited or animated about something, he would start to pray.
At least, that was my perception. I asked my mother about it one day, and she was puzzled. “What do mean, your father is ‘praying’?”
“Well, he always says, “JesusMaryAndJoseph.” He says it a lot.“
Somehow, I took the heat for this.
‘Who told you that life was fair?'”
Of the 38,000 times that I heard Dad invoke the three protagonists of the Nativity story, the one that I remember best happened one Saturday when we were riding around in the car.
I think I was about 11 or 12. On this particular trip, he had relented and allowed me to be in control of the radio.
I twisted the knob and dialed in the local Top-40 outlet. All the “boss hits,” accompanied by musings and weak puns from a frenetic announcer.
And in a reality-show-worthy reveal, I made a life-defining declaration: “Dad? I’ve decided what I want to be.”
Now, at this point in my long and storied life, I was far beyond the “I’m gonna be a cowboy/astronaut/scientist/professional chimpanzee trainer…” phases. Little hoodied-me over in the passenger seat was ready for a serious and impactful career:
I told Dad that I was going to be a Radio Station Disc Jockey.
And he started praying. There was even a rare, bonus “MotheraGod” tossed in for emphasis. He was not happy. For maybe the first time ever, he demanded to know the name of my school guidance counselor.
I guess Dad just couldn’t see it: The glamour of spinning one’s favorite records, and spouting relentless on-air chatter to a loyal audience of (maybe) thousands.
But looking back, I can’t say that I blame him. He just wanted me to have a good life. And being a radio DJ can make for a hard one.
You move from town to town, and depending on which way the winds of fate (and ratings) are blowing, you can get fired at the drop of a Men Without Hats record.
And, perhaps unfairly so: it’s a vocation that skews to a younger demographic.
Before you even hit 40, you are statistically very likely to find yourself on the bricks, looking for a new job. Much sooner than if you were, say, a professional chimpanzee trainer.
In spite of these practical drawbacks, it sure seems like a fun way to make living. And it should come to no surprise to anyone that …
- … if you’re on the air playing a record…
- … that’s talking about a person who does the exact thing you’re doing right now…
- … it’s likely going to be of interest to you.
That’s why I think that the following DJ-centric recordings brought delight, and perhaps in some cases, comfort to the folks whose job it was to talk ’em up, and hit the post. And then run a chewing gum commercial.
Anyway, I think I just heard my father intoning from the heavens: Duly noted, Pop. Enough of the pre-ramble. I’ll get to it:
Can you all guess who we’re staring out with?
“Clap For The Wolfman” – The Guess Who
Clap for the Wolfman
He gonna rate your record high
(Yes, baby, I’m your doctor of love)
Clap for the Wolfman
You gonna dig him till the day you die
(Everybody talks about the Wolfman’s Pompatus of Love…)
This is a bit of a weird one. Although, to give it its due: it‘s one of exactly two pop songs ever to contain the word “pompatus.” So there’s that.
Burton Cummings and The Guess Who had an ongoing little jam thing that they called “Clap For Napoleon.” “Napoleon” did not refer to the diminutive former emperor of France, as you might expect. It was instead, for some reason, a nod to a fictional trucker’s CB radio handle.
The band was scheduled to perform live-to-tape on American TV, on Burt Sugarman‘s (The) Midnight Special. A program that featured as its announcer, a fellow named Robert Smith:
Better known as a very popular radio guy named Wolfman Jack.
The Guess Who loved The Wolfman, and re-worked the “Napoleon” lyrics to celebrate the DJ. He was invited to be on the record, and perform it on TV. Wolfman Jack’s job on the song was to add various odd, little non-sequiturs between each stanza. If it all sounds a bit off, it was. But also fun, in its own harmless and quirky way, as it inexplicably clapped it’s way to Number 6 on the Hot 100.
One thing to know about The Midnight Special – sorry – make that Burt Sugarman‘s (The) Midnight Special: From a performance standpoint, it was the real deal. I can’t ever remember seeing anybody lip sync. The playing and singing was live, and it was a lot of fun to watch people get on stage in front of a studio audience with real instruments, and deliver as close to a recorded performance as possible.
In this particular case, it appears that Wolfman Jack skipped the sound check:
In the spirit of fairness to the Wolfman, I’ll take a hit. Here’s the set-up to my profoundly sophomoric joke from back in high school about this record. You’re going to love hating it:
What was the public health clinic doctor’s diagnosis for the disc jockey?
I know. Gross. Gina Fannatucci was not even remotely amused, either. So much for my pompatus of love.
We promised you “fun” and “sad.” Here’s some sad:
“Rex Bob Lowenstein” – Mark Germino And The Sluggers
And his name is Rex Bob Lowenstein
He’s forty-seven, goin’ on sixteen
His request line’s open
but he makes no bones
About why he plays Madonna,
after George Jones
You may not know this singer songwriter, but his work is very well respected in Nashville.
Mark Germino has released nine albums over a 40 year span.
He might be considered more of a regional artist, and had good success writing and co-writing songs like “Broken Man’s Lament,” and “Lean on Jesus (Before He Leans on You).” His works have been recorded by Emmy Lou Harris and Kenny Chesney.
Initially a poet, Mark moved over to songwriting in the 1970s. And his “Rex Bob Lowenstein” shows that he is a true wordsmith at heart.
The song tells a complete story of Rex Bob Lowenstein, a independently-minded radio DJ at WANT Radio, and how he copes with an unreasonable and shallow boss.
The song is excellent, and the true poetry of the lyrics alone are worth a read.
When writing this article yesterday, I got very excited about the idea of reaching out to ask Mark about his inspiration for this song. I was saddened to learn that he passed away just two weeks ago. Rest in peace, Mark. I’m sure that you can count on Rex Bob to play something nice for you.
On to something more familiar, from another singer songwriter who was no stranger to the Top 40 and hit records:
“WOLD” – Harry Chapin
I am the morning DJ on WOLD
Playing all the hits for you
wherever you may be
The bright good morning voice
Who’s heard but never seen
Feeling all of forty-five, going on fifteen
I remember when I used to hear this one on the radio, I would think, “I wonder if the DJs are sad when they play this song?“ As the record’s origins would suggest, this would be true for at least one of them.
Harry Chapin’s first single was a story song called “Taxi.” It was about a man whose dreams and ambitions never quite came to be. He ends up a forlorn and lost soul who lives a lonesome life as a nightshift cab driver.
The record was promoted by a DJ named Jim Connors at WMEX in Boston, and it became a huge hit. The two would became close friends.
Connors would confide in Chapin, relating tales of the difficult and somewhat transient life of a radio DJ. This is said to have been the inspiration for “WOLD.”
After some early success, the song’s main character leaves his family to work at radio jobs in Tulsa and Boise, before getting the chance to work once again in his home city. As with most Harry Chapin songs, it does not end well.
A somewhat happier footnote to the “WOLD” story: Its tale of the hardscrabble radio life struck a chord with a young television producer named Hugh Wilson. The record inspired him to pitch a series idea to CBS. Who liked it. They greenlit the show.
And that’s how WKRP In Cincinnati started. It was on the air for four seasons.
And now, into the great wide Petty:
“The Last DJ” – Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers
And there goes the last DJ
Who plays what he wants to play
And says what he wants to say
Hey, hey, hey
And there goes your freedom of choice
There goes the last human voice
And there goes the last DJ
Tom Petty said that “The Last DJ” is “about a disc jockey in Jacksonville, Florida, who became so frustrated with his inability to play what he wants, that he moves to Mexico and gets his freedom back. The song is sung by a narrator who’s a fan of this D.J.”
Seems harmless enough.
Unless you’re Clear Channel Radio, circa 2002.
And you own a bunch of radio stations. And you decide to be petty towards Petty. In that event, you ban the record from your air. Because that will show that mean old Tom that he shouldn’t bite that hand that ostensibly feeds him. And he will unwrite the song. And you, (and by “you,” I mean, “your inanimate corporation”) will be free from such wanton and unfair criticism.
In a newsflash that will surprise absolutely no one, Tom Petty could not have cared less.
The Nightfly – Donald Fagen
I’m Lester the Nightfly
Hello Baton Rouge
Won’t you turn your radio down
Respect the seven second delay we use
Coming to you live from the foot of Mt. Belzoni, it’s 50% of Steely Dan.
And while technically true, that’s not to say that Donald Fagen didn’t shine with this solid 1982 effort from the album of the same name. A true aficionado of 1950s and 60s jazz, his tribute to the lonely and jaded DJ voice of the night features lyrics that are classic Fagen:
I’ve got plenty of java
And Chesterfield Kings
But I feel like crying
I wish I had a heart of ice
A heart like ice
You can almost smell the studio from here.
Fagen has talked about how he wrote the song with references to the blues – both the color and the musical genre.
Novelist Arthur Phillips famously described “The Nightfly” as “a portrait of a late-night DJ in Baton Rouge, taking lunatic phone calls from listeners while silently battling his own loneliness and regret.”
I can’t do any better than that. I don’t even smoke, and I’m ready for a Chesterfield, as we listen to the story of “The Nightfly.”
OK. You have all been really patient. Time for a treat – because you just knew we’d end things up with…
Pilot Of The Airwaves – Charlie Dore
I’ve been listening to your show on the radio
And you seem like a friend to me.
I’m convinced that if I look up the word “delightful” in the dictionary, I’m going to see a picture of this record sleeve.
Many of us remember the feeling that middle-of-the night radio could bring. Charlie simultaneously captures the spirit and wistfulness of this intimacy, but amazingly: does so in an up-tempo way that works beautifully. There’s nothing actually sad about this song. I see it as a victory for both the DJ and listener.
Hailing from the UK, Charlie Dore was originally a theater and TV actor. She wrote and performed songs for a children’s program called Rainbow.
Charlie caught the attention of Island Records maven Chris Blackwell, who signed her to contract that soon found her recording in Nashville.
On the surface, “Pilot Of The Airwaves” sounds like it’s a typical song about loneliness. But I think that it’s actually about an antidote for loneliness.
The singer has found that the voice on the radio is a relatable friend. And as any true friend would do: Charlie reciprocates the kindness. She notes that the DJ doesn’t have to play the songs she requests – she just hopes the DJ will do his best.
And then, there’s this:
Late at night I’m still listening
Don’t waste my time chasing sleep
People say I look weary
But that’s just the company I keep
Imagine a friend saying to you: “You might keep me up at night. But it’s OK. You’re worth it.”
That’s a nice thought to think, as I finish this up in the small hours of the morning. See if you agree: Here’s a 60fps remaster of “Pilot Of The Airwaves.”
Enjoy. Cause y’all seem like a friend to me.
Thank You For Your Vote!
Sorry You have Already Voted!
Views: 71
Nicely done, mt. I look forward to listening to the tracks I don’t know later today when I get home from work. And if I need to have a song bouncing around in my head all day, there’s no song better than “Pilot of the Airwaves.”
I know one person here that will be thrilled to see “The Nightfly” pop up today. I had never heard W.O.L.D. before and had no idea it was the inspiration for WKRP in Cincinnati. I didn’t come across “Taxi” until about 20 years ago and it struck me as one of the saddest songs I had ever heard. Harry Chapin at his best.
“Clap for the Wolfman” is actually a pretty good song and would have been much better served without Wolfman Jack’s appearance on it.
My brother Greg was a radio DJ for several years and what you described was true. He was really good at it, but he would have had to have gone where the work was and it’s not a life for someone that wants to settle down. Finding a long term gig is rare. Your story of recording DJs brought back memories of me recording his broadcasts. I recently wrote about how I was able to listen to some of those after years of not hearing them.
Anyhow, excellent work today, mt. I was wondering when we were going to next see an article by you here. Always look forward to them.
A thoughtful take, mt58, and a good list of songs. Several more come to mind but there’s a divide. Some are about radio DJs, which is what you’re talking about, and some are about club DJs. These tend to be dance songs, naturally, and they’re pretty good, too. Really, though, The Ramones have the right question.
Add this classic 80s jam to the list-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gGHSIrPSOM
“We’d like to dedicate this record to all the DJs in the entire world”.
I have a few more to offer, but they’re more about radio rather than the DJ per se.
College Radio by Consolidated
https://youtu.be/9SAKdb4v_20?si=IEMx1og7jj-NN6bL
All Night Radio by Sam Bush
https://youtu.be/J4ss59Oxbbg?si=xhJY1OcWqG96-LGx
Panic by The Smiths
https://youtu.be/wMykYSQaG_c?si=qQXr3loeoukB4e1N
Three VERY different songs with different perspectives.
Holy crap. Consolidated.
I remember driving pass the 24-hour tennis court in Waikiki when their collaboration with the Yeastie Girlz from the CMJ retail sampler played. I forgot to park the car.
Underrated feminist anthem.
I had to spin around.
Oh, wait. I have to check the chronology. Yes. “You Suck” preceded(oh, no I initially misspelled preceded) Peaches’ debut album Fancypants Hoodlum by three years.
Sexually frank lyrics, but hysterically funny.
Agitprop always goes down easier with humor.
Nice topic.
Oddly enough I know 5 of these artists without knowing any of their songs listed. Other than Tom Petty none of them left much imprint here. Then there’s the one artist who I would never have been able to name but I became well acquainted with his Rex Bob Lowenstein in the late 80s.
There was one weekend Radio 1 DJ in particular who picked up on it and tried his hardest to make it a hit. It eventually peaked at #98 in 1989. It may be a challenger for most airplay for lowest sales.
Whatever the merits of the song it was a signifier of what was going wrong with Radio 1. Maybe it was popular with the DJs because many of them saw themselves as Rex. Though rather than being 47 going on 16 they were 47 and showing it. Many of them had been on Radio 1 since the early 70s and in the case of John Peel since the beginning in 1967. But weirdly Peel was the only one keeping upto date with new trends far from the mainstream.
Daytime Radio 1 was supposed to be about pop music and youth but it had forgotten that. I actually like Rex but it didn’t belong on that station. Move the dial a little to Radio 2 and it would have had a perfect home.
You’re hitting a lot of buttons here, mt58! I mean, one of those songs is my avatar, so, I have to love that one. And I adore it. Though I don’t drink java or smoke.
And “Pilot of the Airwaves” is so entrenched in my period of practically worshipping the radio when I was about 10 years old. Still love that song.
I didn’t discover W.O.L.D until a few years ago. I actually have all of these songs except for the Tom Petty and Mark Germino. Shame that you weren’t able to reach out to him!
When I was a kid my three careers of choice were to be a
Farmer
Trucker
DJ
I didn’t get to be any of them, but I do still love all three of those lines of work. And, if fate allows, I am trying to get a volunteer spot on a local public radio station. It is an exercise in persistence. I hope it works out. I’ll let you know.
Fun article – let’s add Madge to the mix (see what I did there?):
https://youtu.be/NsKF-IhR_mI
I wonder what Harry Chapin was like as a person. I know that he was very involved in charity work and good causes, but was he always depressed? Or did he get all of that out in his work, and his daily demeanor was light-hearted and fun?
Because his songs were sad, sad, sad. There were a few exceptions, but “Dance Band on the Titanic” anyone? And, yes, I love them. “Taxi” is one of the songs that I stay in the car to finish listening until the end, no matter if it makes me late.
I wonder how many of us here dreamed of becoming a radio DJ. I still do, and the job is now largely defunct!
Other commenters already mentioned my favorite DJ-centric selections, but there’s also this deep cut from the 90s:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6n4QUIjUJFk
The thought has crossed my mind, yes.