Written on September 30, 2004
They don’t have good DJs any more.
They don’t have any real personality – some of them try to be as shocking as possible, some of them try to pretend as though they have an extensive knowledge of music. Some of them just read the copy that’s provided to them, and supplement it with popular songs. You don’t have to be smart to be a DJ today.
When radio started, it reigned. TV hadn’t come into its own yet. It was different then. It really was. Even for me, born in the early 60s. Look at the effect that Wolfman Jack had on a generation; Cousin Brucie, Harry Harrison, Alan Freed, Jack Spector, Dandy Dan Daniel, Murray the K…these people had the status of movie stars, and deservedly so. DJs told stories and lured you in…a voice in the night coming from the radio, speaking directly to you. It was more personal than TV; it was almost intimate. A good DJ taught you something about the music you were listening to, and gave you a deeper appreciation for music history.
Scott Muni, a.k.a. The Professor, passed away today. He was 74, and still working, for Q104.3 in New York. He had a one-hour show in the afternoon, just so we could keep in touch with that legendary gravelly voice, and stay educated about rock.
One of his earliest jobs was as one of the “WMCA Good Guys” on Top 40 radio in New York. Now, when I first started listening to Scottso, on WNEW, I had to overlook the WMCA thing because, for Pete’s sake, my MOM listened to that station. I concentrated on the now: Scott Muni was already a legend, even in the 70s. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have the sexy morning drive slot, or the nighttime slot. What was a beautiful afternoon without Scott Muni and a perfect album side? Before NEW, he worked at ABC, and much of the Beatles-arriving-in-the-US radio stock today consists of the Scott Muni ABC stuff.
WNEW was always the place to be, for rock and roll radio. Vin Scelsa! Dave Herman! Pete Fornatale! Alison Steele! Dennis Elsas! Dan Neer! Mark McEwen! Carol Miller! And, of course, The Professor, Scott Muni. Rock and roll fans from around the country would beg friends in the NYC area to send tapes of Scott Muni at work; he was a walking encyclopedia of rock – he really was The Professor. And I lived right here; I didn’t have to beg friends or scour obscure radio bands looking for bootleg re-broadcasts.
This is from the CNN story announcing his death, “Muni was renowned for his interviews with artists such as Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger, Pete Townsend and Springsteen. In one of his more memorable encounters, Muni was speaking with Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page when the musician suddenly collapsed to the floor in mid-sentence, wiped out by days of partying. The unflappable Muni simply put on a record, woke Page up, and conducted the rest of the interview with the guitarist lying on the studio floor.”
Scott Muni got me through a lot of tough times. For example, 1984 was a really rough year for me; my brother was in a fair bit of trouble every time I turned around, and he died late that year. I was trying to figure out what I was going to do with my life, into the second year of a rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis that I thought would last forever. I would sit, in an apartment on 71st and Broadway in Manhattan, trying to escape from finishing college and working as, of all things, a fragrance model. WNEW was running a contest – you had to put together clues that they were broadcasting, guess what song the clues led to, and you win a Porsche. Man, oh, man, I wanted that Porsche. I just knew it would solve all of my problems.
My friend Mike and I put a picture of that Porsche on our bedroom door – we’d look at it each morning on the way out and think, today’s the day we figure out what song they’re talking about, and we win. Road trips! In the Porsche! We had it all planned. I would come home in the middle of the day to hear Scott…I knew he would be the one to deliver that final clue that would enlighten me. I would sit in that apartment and listen to The Professor. It was kind of the bright spot of 1984 for me; Scottso’s Perfect Album Sides.
The song, by the way, was “God Gave Rock and Roll to You” by Argent.
We didn’t win the Porsche.
Before that, though, something else happened that sealed my relationship with Scott Muni. One night, specifically, December 8th, 1980, I was doing homework for a Lit class when I heard, on the radio, that John Lennon had been shot. It was a throwaway, as if, OK, he’s been shot, but he’ll be OK. I thought, who would want to shoot John Lennon? and went back to my homework. A bit later, if I recall correctly, somewhere about 11:20, I was listening to the song “Master Blaster” (Stevie Wonder) on, God forgive me, another radio station, when the song was cut off in mid-stream. I sat right up and said, he’s dead. I know he’s dead. And the DJ confirmed it.
Who the hell would want to shoot John Lennon?
I didn’t want to hear some two-bit DJ attempt to immortalize Lennon; I shut the radio off and went to sleep. I woke up, went to class, all the while thinking, “I read the news today, oh, boy…” I came home to listen to Muni…and he did John proud. I was profoundly affected by Lennon’s death, and so was Scottso. In fact, thereafter, he began every show with a song associated with Lennon; a Beatles song, or a solo effort. He became forever linked to the Beatles through John’s death.
The knuckleheads at WNEW decided to change their format in 1998, and sacked the entire crew of giants, including Dave Herman and Scott Muni. They went all-talk and hired the likes of Opie and Anthony. Guess which radio station has since gone down the tubes?
Today the rock and roll world mourns one of its guardians. There’s an old Righteous Brothers song called “Rock and Roll Heaven” – and the refrain goes,
“If there’s a rock and roll heaven, then you know they got a hell of a band.”
Well, now they have a DJ, too.
Craziest thing ... I was writing about 'NEW for my blog a few weeks ago ... still have it saved in the drafts bin.
I actually met Scottso a few years ago ... I went to one of the Shoot Outs at the Hard Rock one day after high school let out ... I was maybe 16 at the time, in the mid '90s.
I partied with Phil Collins, and met the love of my life, then-morning DJ, Pat "Paraquat" Kelley, who shared the 6-10 a.m. slot with "Mr. Marty" Martinez, Jim Monoghan and Donna Fiducia.
Around the same time a friend of mine dragged me to 'NEW's old building at 655 3rd Avenue because she wanted to meet the members of YES in the lobby, so while she was gawking all over Rick Wakeman, Steve Howe and Chris Squire, I got to meet Dennis Elsas, Dan-o Neer and Harris Allen.
Once I spoke to Dave Herman on the phone; Harris Allen, a few times. Met Tony Pigg, Pat St. John, Carol Miller at the 'NEW Xmas Concert at the Beacon.
When Scottso died, I was inconsolable. And when the station died, I just turned off the radio all together.
All I listen to now is The Moonshine Show and Tennessee Borders on 89.9 on Sunday mornings. Sometimes 88.3 WBGO, when I could get reception (rarely).
I'd give anything for a decent classic rock radion station. Q-104.3 just don't cut it. They cut the cheese, maybe.
Posted by: Erica | 26 September 2006 at 07:18 PM