Somewhere between Casino Morongo and the only Burger King in
Indio, a part of me died on May 1, 2005. I’m exaggerating,
but when you half expect to see the Fox News text crawl reveal
which celebrities have developed a taste for human flesh,
it’s obvious that hyperbole is now the new black (forget
pink, it’s over).
Anyway, while driving back from Coachella, my iPod’s tape
adapter became snagged on something and the subsequent snap of the
wire produced a Bambi’s-mom-gets-shot level of sadness. My
library of driving music was decimated. I have a CD changer, but
it’s nothing like having your entire library on call. I tried
my mom’s radio adapter for the iPod, but that nonsense with
finding the right station was like using a ham radio. Plus nothing
kills the mood like listening to Elvis Costello and then having it
jump to mariachi music as you drive over a hill.
After getting back to L.A., while driving to my internship one
day, I had a dilemma: During the commute I needed something to
listen to. CDs wouldn’t cut it, and I was forced to go back
to an old flame ““ radio.
An initial listen didn’t inspire confidence. KROQ is still
a 10-deep playlist whose DJs are like the unfunny kids who ran for
class president and thought they were Dave Chappelle during their
speeches. Arrow 93 is now “Jack FM,” which alternates
between great (Depeche Mode) and execrable (the “I Know What
Boys Like” song). And Power 106 still rattles my windows with
an incomprehensible explosion of bass.
My saving grace was the venerable Indie 103.1, L.A.’s
truly unique station. But I switched to it during my commute and
was instantly disappointed. “Great,” I thought,
“I’m sitting in traffic and I’m stuck with
“˜Jonesy’s Jukebox.'”
For the uninitiated, “Jonesy’s Jukebox” is a
talk show hosted by Steve Jones, former Sex Pistols guitarist. He
interviews guests, plays whatever music he pleases and generally
hangs out. Before, I found the show to be downright puzzling. Now,
choosing between Jonesy and KROQ’s resident tool Stryker, I
decided to give the Englishman a chance. Within moments my opinion
of Jonesy did a 180.
It took 30 seconds of Jonesy interviewing singer/songwriter
Aimee Mann to change my mind. I came in on Jonesy asking Mann if
she likes her stepson less because he isn’t technically hers
and being met with awkward silence and a bewildered response. Stuff
this fascinatingly insane cannot be scripted.
What makes the show so intriguing are the little things. Jonesy,
like anyone, has his favorite artists. Actually, he seems to have
exactly two: U2 and Frank Sinatra. Don’t be surprised if you
turn Indie on at 1:30 p.m. and suddenly hear Old Blue Eyes crooning
“My Way,” which is a baffling yet strangely fitting
change of pace from typical rock radio.
And as an example of some of the bizarre things Jonesy does on
the air, he once told a story about hearing a “really great
CD by some chick” whom he’d never heard of at a mall
and buying it, and then proceeded to play it on the air. The chick?
None other than Ashlee Simpson. This is all par for the course on
Jonesy’s show.
Now truthfully, I do miss my music. Yet hearing Jonesy sing the
Sex Pistols’ “Anarchy in the UK” and forgetting
the words despite having been in the band is infinitely more
interesting than anything on my iPod.
So really, radio still has the potential to be awesome, but only
when it’s run by someone who has no idea what in God’s
name he’s doing ““ especially when he takes pride in
that fact.
Think KCRW is L.A.’s truly unique station? E-mail
Humphrey at mhumphrey@media.ucla.edu.