In the past few decades, we have had what are known as “shock jocks,” disc jockeys and radio hosts who entertain some listeners by going against the grain while on the air. They attract attention by pushing the envelope as much as they can, until the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) clamps down on the owners of the station. Often, fines are levied in hopes that the company can reprimand their disc jockeys and get them to conform to the rules.
It’s a “catch-22” in some cases, because although some listeners find certain comments offensive, the overall number of listeners increases significantly. More listeners, more sponsorship, equals more revenue for the station. Some radio stations have been fined hundreds of thousands of dollars, and as a result, on-air personalities and their producers have been fired.
Recent shock jocks are people like Howard Stern, Opie & Anthony, or Mancow Muller. These are guys that have cursed on the air. Others have blocked freeway bridges in order to give someone a haircut, while others play pranks on unsuspecting individuals, often while using sexual innuendos.
Although this sounds new, risqué, and refreshing, it is actually nothing new. Fast talking, loud, and hep disc jockeys that push the envelope have been around since the good ol’ days. Cats like Alan Freed (who coined the phrase “rock & roll”), Dewey Phillips, and my all-time favorite “Wolfman Jack” were just some of the early pioneers of making kids’ parents frown.
“The Wolfman” was born Robert Weston Smith in New York City, January 21, 1938. He was the youngest of two children and grew up in Brooklyn, where he became a huge fan of rhythm and blues music. That category technically has a broad spectrum of genres, including what is now called “doo-wop,” but there are also elements of blues, jump blues, R&B, Soul and good ol’ rock & roll. By the mid-1950s, his father bought Robert a large Zenith Trans-Oceanic radio where he became enthralled with the world of broadcasting, various radio personalities, and music of all types.
After countless efforts of trying to become a successful door-to-door salesman, Robert went back to his love for music, and attended the National Academy of Broadcasting in Washington, D.C. After he graduated in 1960, he began working as DJ “Daddy Jules” at WYOU in Newport News, Virginia. Things went okay for a while, but the powers that be decided to change their stations main genre to “nice music,” and at that point Robert moved to Shreveport, Louisiana, where he signed on at country music station KCIJ- 1050.
During that time, Alan Freed was making a lot of controversy with his rock & roll films and live music festivals in New York City, along with what he was doing on the air. Upper middle class parents weren’t fond of this new music due to the racial tensions and divide that were prevalent at the time. Little Richard put it so eloquently when he stated, “The white kids had Pat Boone records on top of their dressers, for their parents to see, but kept my records under their beds. That’s okay, as long as they bought my records!” Freed had the Moon Dog Show, and even played a howl periodically during his sets. It can be heard in many of his recordings.
All of the above factors gave Robert an idea. A great idea! In 1962, Robert met Ramon Bosquez of a radio station XERF-AM in Ciudad Acuña, Mexico. Mr. Bosquez told Robert that “We don’t have rules, so come to Mexico, become a rock & roll disc jockey, and do whatever you want.” What also set this deal in motion was the fact that Mexican radio stations didn’t have regulations on the maximum amount of wattage that could be used. When Robert signed his contract with XERF they offered 250,000 watts, where the average American radio station was limited to only 50,000. This meant that when Robert went on the air, people could literally hear him from all four corners of the United States!
Almost overnight, Robert Smith became a national hit, especially among teenagers. He quickly developed his signature style and called himself “Wolfman Jack,” with constant phrases like “The Wolfman is everywhere,” “Have mercy, baby,” “Who’s this on the Wolfman telephone?” and continuous howls before, after, and even during songs. Being a great fan of rhythm & blues, it is safe to say that Wolfman Jack was hugely inspired by Howlin’ Wolf.
Every hot rodder and custom car guy, as well as rock & roll fans, across America tuned in every night. The Wolfman did pitches for weight-loss pills, weight-gain pills, rose bushes, and baby chicks. There was even a pill called Florex, which was supposed to enhance one’s sex drive. “Some zing for your ling nuts,” the Wolfman would say.
By the mid-1960s Wolman Jack and his family moved to Los Angeles, where he not only continued to be a local radio DJ, but also sent recorded tapes down to XERF in Ciudad Acuña. so they could continue to play his sets. This went on for years until the early 1970s, when a young film producer and director by the name of George Lucas approached Wolfman and asked if he wanted to play a part in the film, American Graffiti.
That part catapulted his career after the film debuted, and not long after, TV show producer Burt Sugarman hired Wolfman to be a host on a new program called The Midnight Special. It was an American late-night musical variety series originally broadcast on NBC, and its success carried it until the mid-1980s. Wolfman Jack continued to do TV, movie, and radio gigs until July 1995, when he passed away of a heart attack. His legacy will live on forever, and the next time you hear something a bit shocking on the radio, please think of guys like Wolfman Jack. “Are your peaches sweet?” Wolfman would say to the girls who called into the show.
Until next time, please keep supporting live music.
