About the self-styled music expert…
I spent more than 30 years making a living in commercial radio under the name Sebastian. The first half was as a DJ on dinky mom-and-pop AM stations and on some breakthrough “underground” FM stations. Around 1988 it became apparent that I wasn’t good enough to stay a DJ in a market as competitive as the one where I lived, so I got a cram course in radio research from a disgraced radio buddy and sold myself as a research director to a Susquehanna Broadcasting outlet. I spent a total of 13 years there in two passes, while holding part-time jobs as a weekend jock at other, non-competing stations. I worked with some phenomenal talent over the years: Tony The Tiger Taylor at WQXI-AM; Chris Morgan at Quixie and at WPLO-FM; Ross Britain at WIIN-AM; Barry Chase at Z-93; and finally Leslie Fram, Rick Stacey, Sean Demery, and Domino Lini at Power 99.
The great radio recessions of 1987, 1991, and 2003 each cost me my job. Radio has yet to recover from the last one, so I put up a shingle as a consultant and did radio research projects for 99-X — I swear I made as much as a consultant in 2004 as I had as an employee in 2002, and worked half the hours. I also did some projects for the local public radio outlet, and for a national radio research company. But when Susquehanna was sold to the Darth Vaders at Cumulus I was left without an income. Since then I’ve managed to survive on normal (ie, non radio) jobs, but I miss radio’s heyday, and I miss the music of MY era.
The music of my era was LOUD. And as a DJ I got free tickets to great concerts. I was at WPLO-FM (“103 and a third, Atlanta’s alternative high”) in my 20s and went to concerts three nights a week; a typical month would include Bob Dylan, Emerson Lake & Palmer, Slade, and a slew of club bands that usually never had hits, like The Michael Stanley Band and Brussel Sprouts. REO Speedwagon eventually had some hits, and so did John Stewart. The Who and The Stones and Led Zeppelin and trash like Cheap Trick and AC/DC took its toll, and now I wear hearing aids. They don’t work worth a flip for live music, so it takes a dinosaur like Paul McCartney to get me to a concert these days.
Around 1968 my sainted mother saw me watching Donovan on TV. He was wearing a khaftan and incense was burning (on the TV program, not in our house) and he looked like the poster child for Elfland. My mother said “How can you stand to watch that faggot?” and taught me that my parents weren’t supposed to like MY music. I assume I am not suppose to like today’s music, and I’m happy to oblige. It’s probably no worse than “my” music, but I literally can’t hear it properly, and I don’t like it — I prefer melody to rhythm. Sly & The Family Stone were great but they destroyed southern soul music. Give me Percy Sledge any day!
As for my self description… Maybe it was 1974 or so. I had picked up some girls hitchhiking (you could do that back then), we were at my hippie shack with some other friends. I was expounding on some new record or other, and I noticed I was not making any progress with one of the girls. I asked her if she was okay and she replied “self-styled rock and roll experts bore me.” My feelings were hurt but I laughed because that indeed was how I saw myself. No, she and I never got it on. I don’t think I ever saw her again.
So this blog is my outlet for still caring about The Beatles and The Beach Boys and The Yardbirds and The Mamas & Papas and The Velvet Underground and Joe South and The Hollies and Sonny & Chér. And more. Usually I can tell the difference between what is good and what I like — sometimes they coincide, but I don’t give a rat’s ass if they don’t. If I like it I listen to it. It might be The Legendary Stardust Cowboy’s “Paralyzed” or maybe Chér’s Stars LP. One thing it will not be is recorded later than 1980, with the possible exceptions of The Bee Gees or Appetite For Destruction by Guns N Roses.
