"My time. My time. I love my time. My time has something more..."

"...My time's the best there's ever been..."

Hello folks.  Hello folks at world.  Sorry folks, but as the first month of the year winds up, I'm still in thoughts regarding anniversary time of Space Pirate Radio.  Thinking back to that first show of 1974, as I did last week, I noticed during this week remembrances for the Challenger disaster, marking the 25th anniversary.  Ye gods!  Has it been that long?  Remembering the Challenger incident puts me back to the week of the show's 12th anniversary celebration.  (I still remember at the time that there seemed to be a mixture of sadness with celebration.  The Challenger accident happened on January 28th.  During festivities for the show's anniversary, Frank Herbert, the sci-fi author of Dune, passed away on February 11th.)  Anyway...as nice as the 10th anniversary party was for the show when it was on KTYD, the 12th anniversary on Y97 was the most satisfying. 

The poster contest theme continued.  Mike Merenbach, the artist who had started with the 8th anniversary, had come up with a contemplative sci-fi image.  Looking at it now, I am amazed that it sort of predates the kind of image of Coruscant from the Star Wars films yet to come.  Looking backwards now, the Space Pirate Radio ship could easily be docked next to any Republic cruiser.  So I was surprised by the incredible variety of entries submitted using that image. 

I had secured the premises of Zelo (the hip, happening club in Santa Barbara) for the festivities.  The number of entries turned the restaurant/nightclub into an art gallery.  There were a large number of prizes for the most creative entries.  Although there was a grand prize winner, there were a number of other awards for merit to imaginative submissions of the poster design.  I don't think the prizes were as important to the artist as it was to create something unique with the Space Pirate Radio image.  The main winner was a very unique 3D diorama, but other entries included giant stand-ups, sculptures created out of Tiffany-like plastic, and one that was an actual rocket that could be shot off.  It was all quite amazing.  Very surreal.  And hopefully a giggle for everybody. 

Again, for me, I received the most personal satisfaction with this anniversary party for Space Pirate Radio.  It was everything I felt should have happened during the 10 years at KTYD.  Zelo had never done any promotion with a radio station up to this time.  It was a bit of a coup.  And thankfully it was a major success for the club, resulting in even more well attended later engagements.  The party was covered by local media, as evidenced in the photo with KEYT TV reporter, Lance Orozco, doing the interviewing.  Lance was a terrific fellow and had previously brought his camera to an all-night Space Pirate Radio show for a TV feature.  Pardon my gloating, but I was a media whore then.  As an Arts & Entertainment editor as well as a performer, I understand what it's like to be on both sides of the microphone.  I appreciated Lance's work, as well as newsman John Palminteri, who also covered the event.  I have the fondest memories of working with these news professionals. 

On a psychological test I took in high school, I scored with a number zero, determining that I was a complete ambivert: introverted in thought and extroverted in action.  So what the hell does that mean here?  Not sure, but basically although I prefer the introverted creation of Space Pirate Radio in the studio, these extroverted moments of public celebration are a heck of a lot of fun.  And besides, it's good to get out every now and then.

"...My time.  I love my time.  Thank you my time." 

"Because all you of Earth are idiots!"

When Saturday night January 26, 1974 became Sunday morning January 27th, something unusual happened to American commercial radio.  At midnight, the pop rock world of Elton John and Fleetwood Mac faded out and a sci-fi rock soundtrack to a rave on Altair IV began.  Yours truly introduced the excursion with words something to the effect saying, "You are now going to hear the weirdest music you have ever heard in your life."  And the sounds of Hawkwind's "Earth Calling" from the album Space Ritual took over the airwaves of KTYD 99.9 Santa Barbara.  It was a test flight, but Pandora was definitely out of the box.  I knew I was in the deep end, but my crazed enthusiasm to share with the world the exciting new sounds from Europe as well as the eccentric audio delights from my own twisted background made me unaware of the lack of a safety net. 

It was a trip, man.  But the show was just formulating.  In those six hours on that magical Sunday morning, a lot of music was shared, old and new.  I was ecstatic to be the first to play the new Amon Duul II album Viva La Trance, not heard on commercial radio.  The album was due for release on the upcoming Tuesday and it was my first joy of delving through the just arrived promo stack at the station.  We knew, as fans of this little known German band, that the album was coming out and I hoped and prayed that I would find this album in the stack of newly arrived LPs under the music director's desk.  Before starting the show, I scavenged through the treasure trove of vinyl and came upon two copies of the holy grail.  Ah, folks, it was great to be young and feel the charge of playing "Apocalyptic Bore" and "Mozambique."  Monitors full volume, blasting Chris Karrer's space guitar out of the window on the eighth floor of the Granada Theatre building.  It was my tiny fist raised to heaven, banishing the airwaves in the city of the red tiles, exorcising the demon spirit of soft rock, homeboy Mike Love and the "where are my royalties?" current state of commercial rock music.  It was, for me, audio revolution.  There was Something In The Air and we utopians felt it came in the form of progressive music.

In those six hours, I tried to give an example of every musical taste I was into.  Hard rock.  Deep space.  Old and new.  Old songs that sounded new.  The Beatles.  "Astronomy Domine" by Pink Floyd.  Lounge music.  Attempts at comedy.  And trying to break down the cliche of Top 40 radio.  Changing the fourth wall of theatre in the arena of sound.

And like the music I played, the show progressed or evolved as well.  On early shows, I would back announce the titles of record and artist.  By the summer of '74, I would completely abandon the interruption of the mix of sounds by the traditional DJ.  I wanted the program to be a sonic experience.  And although I knew the information regarding work and performer is important to the listener, I felt that the show as an experience should be uninterrupted.  Or that musical themes and experimentation could develop without the old school "and now a word from our sponsor" type of format.  It was obvious that I intended to make the show as uncommercial as one could be on a commercial radio station.  Now there's a challenge, folks.  For the casual listener, this could be frustrating.  But for most of the audience who used the show for their own personal purposes or loved to tape the program, the complete experience was far superior.  Personally, I felt the least comfortable being myself at the beginning of the show, but I would generally give out the information as to what was to be played and other pertinent bits.  The genuine pleasure for me was when I could let my real personalities come out in the various guises throughout the show.  As I had discovered in theatre, it is perhaps easier to place an opinion wrapped in comedy than to blatantly hit you over the head with it.  I prefer a laugh over a scream and find it subversive.  Most bullies don't have a sense of humour.  And you can slip it past them like a truck in the night. 

My intentions were never to screw with the listener.  I felt that if you were tuned in, you were a friend.  And even though I did some extremely over the top things on the air, I never intended to become like the asshole shock jock-types that would later dominate the world of corporate radio.  I didn't force someone to drink too much on an early morning, drive-time show and drown and die just to get a free t-shirt.  That's not what I intended radio to be.  You had freewill.  You could tune in or out, if you liked.  As I said, if you listened and stayed, you were a friend and you were hip as to who the real enemies were.  That was the plan. 

And of course, the whole thing binding it all together was the discovery of new music.  It was meant to be a trip.  Scenic, illuminating and hopefully...with comfortable seating.