What It Was Like Working the ’80s Graveyard Shift at Duluth’s 95 KQDS

The List of Things That Aren’t the Same as They Were within the ’80s is longer than ZZ Top’s beards, however one of many largest modifications has been the out-of-market company takeover of native radio.

Nowadays, for those who dial up your favourite station while you’re driving to and from work, you’ll undoubtedly hear reside voices, although there’s no assure the butts hooked up to these voices are sitting in Duluth or Minneapolis. Rocking Johnny Rocker can spit out the forecast for this weekend’s Twins recreation, however so far as you understand, he’s pulling that information off Google whereas wacky-bantering from Albuquerque.

It wasn’t at all times this fashion. Before the company consolidation that started within the ’90s, radio stations used to broadcast reside, 24-7. Stations had been staffed by actual human beings spinning actual vinyl records in a studio, not a robo-DJ in a closet, digitally tapping a touchscreen. 

I ought to know. From 1985 to 1987, I stored the insomniacs of Duluth rocking whereas by no means as soon as speaking over their favourite songs from Led Zeppelin, the Scorpions, or Lynyrd Skynyrd. I used to be Mr. Late Night Rock ‘n’ Roll, working the in a single day shift on 95 KQDS. What was it like cueing up some Hooters whereas sliding Bob Dylan out of his protecting sleeve throughout an ’80s graveyard shift on Duluth’s oldest basic rock station?

Listen up…

Power

It’s troublesome to explain that feeling of omnipotence after assuming my place behind the microphone. When I hit that ON THE AIR button, I used to be the one voice on KQDS. I held the highly effective Spirit of Radio in my clean labor-free fingers. If I didn’t have Van Halen cued up, you heard nothing! If I made a decision to swap out the newest syrupy White Lion dreck with a banger like “I’ve Seen All Good People” by Yes, that’s what you heard! If I wished to spend a number of hours holding up Lita Ford’s self-titled album cowl with one hand, I did it! There was nobody to inform me no, absolute curatorial freedom. 

Speaking of…

Solitude

I used to be alone. No uptight managers or annoying co-workers crowding my workspace. When the night man sauntered out that studio door, I flew solo till the morning man confirmed up eight hours later. KQ was buried deep within the bowels of a Duluth workplace constructing, stuffed with dentists, monetary advisors, and various muckety-mucks who acquired issues completed from 9 to five. Once the solar went down, that place was a morgue. The studio was bathed within the amber glow of a solitary lamp hanging low over the management board like a vulture. 

And while you grew up on Stephen King books and Kolchak: The Night Stalker, effectively, it was simple to get spooked. Shadows flickered nightly throughout the enormous studio window dealing with out into the foyer. Of course, I knew Leatherface wasn’t going to slowly stand up in that window, holding a bloody bag stuffed with severed heads, b-b-b-b-b-ut: I popped up for a fast verify, simply to make certain. And these rumors of Paul McCartney being lifeless had been ridiculous… till 2:34 a.m., while you had been constructive for those who glanced to the left, you’d see his bloated ghost face observing you, an extended little bit of drool hanging out of the facet of his Macca zombie mouth.

Of course he’s not over there. I’m not even going to look… however… what if he’s?

Wow. The adrenaline rush off these self-induced creep periods was wonderful! Of course, I nonetheless welcomed the sight of a blinking studio line, indicating one more drunk UMD frat celebration needing a jolt of Ozzy’s “Crazy Train.” 

Speaking of…

Presence

Try calling your favourite radio station tonight at 4 a.m. You’ll have higher odds of reaching Paul McCartney’s ghost. But again then, I answered each name: rowdy drunks, lonely recluses, the labor crew on the Duluth Arena-Auditorium, all of them requesting songs that had been most likely developing within the rotation anyway, however no less than I acknowledged the existence of my midnight comrades.

The fact is, we didn’t do requests. During the day, KQ was tightly programmed with 54 minutes of music and 6 minutes of advertisements each hour. But right here’s the factor: They by no means modified that format for my shift, regardless of the actual fact solely a pair advertisements would run throughout this stretch; that in a single day oversight gave me a musical gap to fill each hour. I might play regardless of the Hells Bells I wished! Melancholy? Sprinkle in “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” Amped up on No-Doz and occasional? Crank out each Guns AND Roses. So, for those who occurred to request one thing I felt like enjoying, and also you hadn’t handed out, we had one more human connection.

Expertise

Today, there’s usually much less ability concerned in enjoying music on the radio. You push a button. Even Pete Stauber might do it. (Maybe.) Back then, you needed to observe down the album, fastidiously place it on the turntable, depend the tracks, frivolously drop the needle, hear for the primary burst of sound, wheel it again half a flip, and solely then was the following tune cued up and prepared. Your work wasn’t completed. Next, you needed to keep alert and hear for the final be aware of the tune at the moment enjoying, which some musicians purposely made troublesome. I imply, you strive to determine when Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks are completed getting it on on the finish of “Big Love.”

Also: That spinning turntable was reside. And if one had been to, say, unintentionally knock over a liter of Jolt Cola, cautious listeners may discover the mild piano of “Faithfully” abruptly changed by a SHRIEKING NEEDLE SCRATCH JOURNEYING ACROSS THE WHOLE ALBUM!!! If one had been to try this…

Nearly 40 years later, working overnights at 95 KQDS stays the perfect job I ever had. Matter of reality, I’d return to it in a Heartbeat City, if all of the persona, humanity, and enjoyable hadn’t been sucked out by big-biz weaseldom.

Also? I’d should return that Lita Ford album cowl. And it’s a little bit bent.

Extra KQ tidbits: The Two Most Popular Requests

• “Can you play ‘Comfortably Numb’? ‘Cuz I’m-m-m-m-m!”
• “My cousin/sibling/finest buddy died tonight. You gotta play ‘Riders on the Storm.’ It was my cousin/sibling/finest buddy’s favourite tune.”

Extra KQ tidbits: Best Bathroom Break Songs

• “Kashmir” by Led Zeppelin (8:36). Plenty of time for Takin’ Care of Business, then a leisurely stroll to search out one’s second, third, or fourth wind.
• “The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys” by Traffic (11:40). For these Taco John’s two-for-one Super Burritos shifts.