The humor of the old adage "you've got a perfect face for
radio" lies in its irony: anybody with a Quasimodo mug yet smooth, sultry voice
has a chance to seduce listeners over the airwaves. Of course, it takes more
than just sexy pipes. For one, you need a drivers license so that you can drive
your station's version of the Bat Mobile to various parking lots around town
where you can then bean passersby with rolled-up station t-shirts using a
handheld slingshot.
(As an
aside - there used to be a guy here in San Diego named Captain Sticky who used
to drive around his Captain Sticky Mobile and shoot peanut butter - or was it
mayonnaise? - out of his Captain Sticky Gun while parked at elementary schools.
Regretfully, the Captain later made a career move: leading singles on
adult-themed tours of Thailand. But, that's a different story.)
To be a
good radio DJ, you also need to laugh infectiously at everything that happens
on the air unless, of course, it's something really serious. Then, it is your
job to lead the listener (atop a music bed of weepy violins) down the road to
Killjoyville as y'all listen to a public service announcement about genital
warts or the need to shelter and clothe homeless old men like the former
Captain Sticky.
It's also
good if you can refrain from laughing while talking about the music 'cause the
music's never a laughing matter. Remember, your audience takes its music very
seriously. People spend lifetimes dressed up like Wavy Gravy or Bronx pimps
because it's all about the music, man/dawg. But, be sure to laugh at nearly
everything else, especially if your program director tells you it's funny.
Fortunately,
Jim McInnes has disregarded the above formula, ditching much of the industry
schlock to create his own on-air persona. Since 1973 McInnes truly has become
the face of San Diego radio. His midwestern accent reminds listeners more of a
neighbor, or an old friend, rather than a recent grad of broadcaster's school
who welcomes you to another day of car insurance commercials and lame
drug-jargon innuendo. Instead of canned laughter, he has added an intelligent
sense of humor, a bookish knowledge of language, an encyclopedic knowledge of
the music he plays, and a real desire to get out into the community to befriend
both local musicians and just plain ol' local Joes and Joesettes.
McInnes was
born in Detroit and grew up in suburban Chicago, coming of age when Flower
Power was in late bloom. Like many of his fellow Boomers, he found music
through that new-fangled invention - The Transistor Radio. His favs were those
four horsemen of early rock n' roll: Elvis, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, and
Fats Domino. By the age of nine, not only had he discovered music but also that
mysterious voice at the other end of the transmission signal. Soon, he wanted
to be that voice and his career path was set.
In high
school, he was given the job of announcing the daily bulletins over the
school's PA system, such as sports scores, special events, and general
information for over 2,000 students. He never got the chance to play music, but
his propensity for side splitting one-liners once got him hauled into the
principal's office. During these years, he also learned to speak Russian. At
17, he started playing guitar as a way to meet girls.
After high
school, he went on to pursue a communications degree from Southern Illinois
University where he also DJed for the college radio station. Then, in 1970 he got his first paying job in
broadcasting at WIBA-FM in Madison, Wisconsin. "It was right after Kent State,"
Jim remembers. Tensions were high. And, FM radio was emerging as its own
counter-cultural force. WIBA had adopted a "free form" format, giving the DJs
and listeners broad decision-making powers. "We'd play jazz one minute, B.B.
King the next, Terry Riley and other electronic music pioneers, even classical
music, and round out the hour with the Grateful Dead." In many ways FM radio
was beginning to emulate the Woodstock-like music festivals that had popped up
across the country during the 1960s. WIBA-FM, in fact, was one of the earlier
stations in the country to adopt the "free form" radio format, which put Jim
right on the cutting edge of things to come. While in Madison, a city known for
its Bohemianism and radical-left culture, McInnes worked as both a DJ and a
program director.
While
vacationing in San Diego in the summer of 1973, he dropped off a tape of one of
his WIBA shows at KPRI, San Diego's first FM "underground" radio station. Upon
returning to Wisconsin, he got a call from KPRI Programmer Mike Harrison and
was offered a pay cut to move to San Diego.
Then, on
April 30 of 1974, Jim got an offer from KGB. On May 1, he was KGB's new morning
jock, earning a princely $50 more per month! McInnes debuted on KGB as "JM in
the AM." But, his aversion to waking up early soon allowed him to move to
afternoons. The now-famous "JM in the PM on the FM" was born.
He spent
the rest of the 1970s as part of a very talented air staff, building up KGB's
equity as one of the premier FM radio stations in the country.
The idea
for the Homegrown albums was hatched in 1973, the year before McInnes joined
KGB. But, within his first year, he was given the duties of co-producing the
yearly LP devoted to San Diego musicians playing songs with San Diego themes.
McInnes is well aware of the legendary story of how he and the other Homegrown
producers rejected a song titled "La Jolla" by an unknown named Stephen Bishop.
After receiving his rejection letter, Bishop changed the locale from La Jolla
to Jamaica and the song's title to "On and On" and took his little record to
1970s gold.
McInnes
also remembers in the '80s during KGB's on-air "Homegrown Show" throwing back a
submission by a band called Bad Radio only to learn later that the lead singer
was then-unknown Eddie Vedder.
McInnes
would co-produce the Homegrown albums from 1974 through 1984, the year the last
Homegrown disc was pressed. During this time, he also developed the "Homegrown
Show," which was dedicated to spotlighting local talent. Among the talent that
was caught in McInnes' sights was Mickey Ratt (soon to be renamed simply Ratt)
and the Beat Farmers. Ratt's Stephen Pearcy and McInnes became acquainted, with
Pearcy visiting KGB whenever the band was in town. The Beat Farmers' Country
Dick Montana made several co-host appearances on the Homegrown Show.
Another KGB
institution that McInnes would spearhead was the annual Sky Show, now in its
33rd year. "The first year, we had a synchronized sky show, shooting off
fireworks at both Chollas Lake and Fiesta Island," McInnes recalls. But, the
snarls of traffic quickly agitated the powers at city hall. So, San Diego-Jack
Murphy Stadium (now Qualcomm Stadium) soon became the Sky Show's permanent
home.
An
indication of KGB's cutting edge instincts was the TV show "KGB Rocks 10,"
which McInnes co-hosted. The show was one of the first on television to
showcase music videos and premiered on San Diego's Channel 10. Unfortunately,
MTV soon corned the market and "KGB Rocks 10" was taken off of the air.
The '80s
saw Jim cementing his reputation as a local legend. He emcee'd scores of
concerts by national acts and local favorites. (He is even featured introducing
the Beat Farmers on their Loud, Plowed...and LIVE album.) Because KGB was the top
station in one of the top 15 U.S. markets, McInnes was always included in the
national promotions. He was even given a "platinum album" by Columbia Records
for his help in spinning Loverboy's first record to the top of the charts. In
1987, KGB was voted the best radio station in the western United States in a
Rolling Stones poll, thanks in no small part to their afternoon drive guy "JM
in the PM."
McInnes
would also take over the midday slot throughout most of the 1990s, a time slot
that allowed him to stretch out creatively beyond KGB's ever-restrictive set
and play requests while pulling out old favorites. He would even hold down the
morning show in an interim period while the station was assembling the new
Dave, Shelley, and Chainsaw crew. Around 1991, however, the once-cutting edge
KGB went corporate and adopted a "classic rock" format. The old set list of
10,000 songs was now whittled down to around 500. No new music was allowed.
And, those like McInnes, who had been weaned in the days of post-'60s "free
form" radio now found themselves in direct conflict with the corporate program
directors.
Yet,
corporate radio meant corporate ad dollars, which translated into bigger
promotional concepts. During this time, McInnes was sent to Moscow as part of
an entourage charged with covering a Rolling Stones show that was ultimately
cancelled. (The Stones would later play Moscow in 1998.) Still, Jim got the
chance to send his remotes back to San Diego, giving the station a chance to
riff off of its call letters "KGB" and references to the Soviet secret police
agency of the same name. In 1996, McInnes was sent to Ireland as part of a
Guinness beer promotion. "I fell in love with Ireland on that trip," McInnes
recalls. Again, he was able to chronicle his trip through a series of remote
broadcasts.
In 1994,
Jim was given the San Diego Music Awards very first Lifetime Achievement Award
for his tireless support of local music. He also hosted the San Diego Music
Awards from 1996 through 2002. In 1999, he went back to the afternoon drive.
In 2002 the
unthinkable happened: The guy who had defied radio-industry gravity by working
for the same station for 28 years was fired. "Free form" radio had been dealt
its death knell.
To be continued next
month.