Friday, December 12, 2008

Max Volume on Women

It's fairly simple: A Man wants to "Enter", a Woman wants to be "Entered". A Man wants to conquer, A Woman wants to accomodate. A Man wants to come inside and warm up, A Woman wants to warm & care for. It takes a man many rides in the saddle before he knows what feels good to a woman. Yes; Women want to feel good too. A Man will spend 10 minutes warming up his Truck so the fluids are ready, but expects a Vagina to be "Hot" Now! Women love to be adored, Women love to be touched, (editors note: "Fingers are important, use them to explore, and for God's sake trim your finger nails, and wash your hands) Women want to feel like the center of the universe, because, as the creator of life, you might just see the Solar System in their eyes. Women want to feather their nests, make them pretty, clean, and comfy. To enter her home, is to enter her Vagina. To have you inside is to trust you. Men want to enter, which means she's letting you inside her. Inside her. Yes she wants to know where you've been, because you're inside her. If you tell your Man friends that you met a sweet fine lady, and you went out, your Man friend will say (Ok here comes the obscure Led Zeppelin reference:) "D'yer Maker?" (did you do her ) If I tell my sister I met a sweet fine lady and we went out, she'll say: "who is she, where is she from, where does she work," ...she'll want to know everything from DNA up to now, because her brother is going for a swim in the gene pool of a woman she doesn't know. Sure, many Women pick Men their friends approve of. Like a handbag or accessory. Many men are picked because they fit. Oh you might think you picked her, but she got you. Nice to know you're a "Ken Doll" she likes to dress up, play house with and manage your finances. Many Men take what they get, Yet...they talk a good sport. We all want to belong to someone. Someday when you hit 40, and you're at the hospital, and they ask you for an emegency contact, pray that it isn't your Mom, you put down, Pray that there is someone in the world that loves you. Someone you can count on. Men are Hunters & Protectors. We used to all be vegetarians, but every 28 days men had to leave the cave and go kill something. "Baby I got you a fur coat, these fangs will make a fancy necklace, and tonight we're having a BBQ". To be a Man is to "Enter", to be a Woman, is to be "Entered".

Jerry Rice and Max Volume

One night a couple years ago, Nick Danger and I went to South Lake Tahoe, to attend the Maxim Party at Harrah's Altitude Night Club, which oddly enough coincided with the Celebrity Golf thing at Edgewood. Lots of famous people everywhere, Nick says, "we're the only nobody's here". I said "No Nick, we wouldn't be here if that were true, just act famous". I wandered over to check out this woman dancing on an elevated stage in the middle of the club. The music, Dj, sound system, all top notch. I watched as she swayed from side to side, so serene, so placid, so hypnotic. She seemed so peaceful, so happy. She was so beautiful, i had to stop and appreciate her work, her persona, her facade, her mystique. I became aware of someone standing next to me, but I was in trance. All at once she smiled at both of us, I turned to the man standing next to me, and said "Whoa". It was Jerry Rice. He looked at me, gave me that Superbowl Smile, and said ...emphatically..."Yeah, whoa"....We watched her some more. I thought, "what am I gonna say to Jerry Rice"? Thanks? Good to meet you? How was your game today? No. I just shared a man moment with Jerry Rice. It doesn't get any better. When the song changed, he smiled, gave me the head nod, I obliged with the same, and wandered off... to see Nick Danger who said, "So, now your old pals with the all time greatest"?

Great Moments in Radio...

It was back in the '80s. The Reagan Administration had just spanked Libyan Dicatator Mommar Khadafi. The Nation was on high alert for terrorist acts, in response to our actions. Later on, Def Leppard would immortalize the moment with a sound bite from President Reagan in the song "Gods of War", where Ron says "If you counted on America to be passive, you counted wrong". I was working on a Saturday, doing a remote at the Convention Center, to coincide with the area new car dealers auto show. Back in those days, the Dj did it all. You had to bring the equipment and set it up all by yourself. We didn't have the state of the art gear that we have today. No Tent, No Inflatable call letters, No kickin' sound system. All we got sent into the field with, was a banner, a Boombox, and some ancient army issue mobile radio hardware. So I get up early, put on my nice 501's, an Op shirt with a collar, and show up early to set up, test the equipment, and meet the mucky muck vip's. I was thinking in my mind what I needed to script for the live breaks I would be doing. I try to keep it concise, succint, and to the point. People want to get back to music. I came in the back door, with all the other working Joe's and set my equipment down near my designated spot. I ran back out to my Firebird, and got the prizes. You gotta have prizes. As I came back in I was grabbed, thrown to the ground, and had a gun drawn on me by the security team. Buch a good 'ol boys. The leader was a big 'ol boy. Probably 6'6", 300 pounds, with 100 of that being his massive beer belly (that more than "Dun-Lopped" over). He had bad teeth, a real tweeker set of chompers, and spit when he spoke. We'll call him Phil. His wingmen were "Rusty", a short lil' scrawny scrapper looking dude, who was flanked by "Chet", an enormous door shaker who I'd love to see catch anything in a foot race. So big Phil's got his gun drawn on me. I think it's a 9mm Smith&Wesson. At issue is the two anvil cases that hold the on air transmitter and microphones and crap. Sitting right next to everything, is the antennae, and stand. Captain Obvious could have put the two together. Big Phil wants to know what's in the cases. By now there's a huge crowd leering for a glimpse of something juicy to share later on with the other car dealers. "It's that Max Volume kid, the cops got him"! Big Phil thinks the radio gear is bombs. I said "I'm the Dj, I'm doing a live broadcast, that's my equipment". Big Phil lets me up, and while keeping his gun drawn, says "Open 'em up, lemme see". I walk over, open the anvil cases up, and start to assemble the transmitter. Big Phil finally puts his gun away. He comes over and says, "Look we figured you were one of Khadafi's boys". I looked at him and said "Are You Completely High"? He grabs my shirt and says "We don't want no trouble Rocker Boy", shoves me, and walks off. I researched my options legally. The consensus was, that the nation was on high alert. This pretty much gave Phil all the creative latitude to do whatever he wanted. Good Times!

Judas Priest Prelude

Let me preface this next story by saying that many have wrote about the Judas Priest trial. Many a TV newscaster covered the story. It became a focus of a "good versus evil" scenario. It was the "hot topic" of the time. For years, right wing wacko's and religious zealots had put forth the proposition that "backwards messages" and "subliminal messages" existed in Rock music and it was the Devil. An Ambitious Reno Attorney along with the families of two young Sparks Men, filed suit against Judas Priest for causing their suicide pact. It wasn't because they smoked a whole bag of weed, or drank beer all day, it wasn't because their home life, and parents, weren't a good thing. It was Judas Priests fault. Because, of course Rock Bands want their "die hard fans" die. Welcome to the mentality of Reno, Nevada, in the mid eighties. Fear is a great motivator. I had to write an essay on it once. Lots of print, and footage on the subject, but no one has ever heard it from the only Dj in Northern Nevada, who ever played Judas Priest. No one has ever asked me to tell it. Stayed Tuned...

Judas Priest and Max Volume

Great Moments in Radio 3.0 -Judas Priest Trial Category: Jobs, Work, Careers
The American Dream. It's different for each of us, yet so much the same. And why is it inherently American? I read this book by the Dali Lama. To surmise the wisdom of it's many pages, we're all so different, yet so much tha same. We all want Love. We all want a warm safe place to sleep. We all want clean water. A nice meal. Yet, by virtue of being ourselves, sooner or later we're going to piss somebody off. So why purposely piss someone off. You're gonna do it anyway. I read a book by Benjamin Franklin, "Poor Richard's Almanac". What did I get from it? This quote: "Most people die when they're 21, but they're buried at 84". By 21 most of the masses have learned all they will learn. they've decided on which foods, which "brands", which styles, which music they enjoy. They become rotting sacks of flesh, consuming, and purging, flushing away yesterday. Some reinvent themselves. Some grow. Some contribute. It's all a big equation in some Vonnegut daydream. I give. I have always been in pursuit of my dream. To find love, make a home, and participate in the arena of life. I got an internship in radio my first year in college. It was 1982. KOZZ was Reno's only Rock. There was a cool AM top 40; KCBN. They were good. They had class, top talent, and did a great job of mixing up the hits. They all had nice haircuts. KOZZ however, was the long haired hippie rockers. KOZZ had a 75,000 watt transmitter, and a relentlessly good staff. Led by Daniel Cook, a.k.a. the "Sarge", KOZZ started the day with Bruce Van Dyke, who did some of the coolest, funniest radio ever. Steve Funk followed with a mid day buffet of tasty treats, pure sonic bliss. The Sarge drove everyone home with some of the harder stuff, and had the gift of theatre to his show. After 6pm, I came on. I played whatever I felt like. I came up with names for excursions into the fray. Headphones Only was prog rock heaven. Metal shop was teeth, radio with bite. Power. I had every record company in the world sending me product. I listened to everything, and played what I liked. As a musician in a band, I could make a statement, but as a Dj with a "Big Stick" (radio terminology for transmitter in excess of 50,000 watts) I could shape the musical landscape of 3 generations of listeners. More people listened to me than drove cars. I had a 48- 53 share of male & female's 18-49. I could make or break bands. Then something happened that would end up taking the music away from the Dj's, and into the hands of the consultants. Rock Band Judas Priest would get sued for alleged "subliminal messages" in their music. Our company and general manager would issue this edict: that we trust the judgement of our Dj's to play quality music popular to the audience. Yet on a national level, the impact of the Judas Priest Trial, spearheaded by Ken McKenna, in Washoe County, would have broadcasting companies opting for the conduit of consultancy. Hiring a third party to make the decisions about music. The music was put on trial. Here in Reno, Nevada people would became polarized into two factions: those who thought the belief that music made two Sparks teens form a suicide pact was asinine, and ludicrous, and those who believed Rock music was the Devil. It was a story that sold newspapers, and got big ratings for the evening news. It had parents groups in a fuss. It had preachers screaming from the pulpit. Did they attack Columbia Records? Did they drive to Hollywood and do their backwoods hick song and dance? No. They came after me. It put my ass right in the crosshairs of every right wing wacko, religious zealot, and fueled the fire for the competition. Newspaper reporters were in the lobby waiting for me to get to work. TV news teams would have a camera on me when I got out of my car. Nice to get your car on TV so some nutjob can slash your tires. I had a TV news team show up at my house. My house was on the evening news! Shortly thereafter, my house was broken into, and some wacko destroyed all my belongings, and spray painted "Child Killer" all over the walls. Legal recourse? Basically what I got from the "Powers the Be" was, that by playing the music, I should accept the consequences of my actions...wait, what? Some sort of Machiavellian twist on "Tacit Consent". Good thing my guitar was with me. My girlfriend, being quite scared, left me, moved out. I slept in a cave on Hidden Beach. People spit on me in restaurants. I got "roughed" up a time or two. Always 2 or 3 big "rednecks", never a fair fight. I did many interviews of clear intelligent rational thought. TV took the sound bites they wanted, and Newspaper wrote stories with a "slant" to further their agenda: that I was a messenger of Satan. There was one decent guy, Steve Timko, Sparks Tribune. Steve didn't buy into all the fear mongering. Steve wrote a good string of stories and chronicled the case. I could have left Reno, but that would be cowardly. I was in it to the end. I would see the day in court. I would be vindicated. You see, until 1987, (when the "Sarge" and I started KRZQ,) I was the only person who ever played Judas Priest on air. I was implicated as the sole accomplice to the band, an emissary of sorts, administering the doses. They wanted to hold me accountable. They wanted to make an example out of me. I gave them all the finger. I forged on. By the late '80s Metal would be the biggest selling music on the planet. Here's a little lesson in economics: Rock Bands are out to sell CD's. No one is going to make money selling music that makes you kill yourself. Not gonna sell too many tickets to your shows, if everyone dies rockin out to your songs. When the trial was over, and Ken McKenna lost his case, Rob Halford, KK Downing, Glenn Tipton, Ian Hill, Skip Herman, several Sony Music Honchos, and I all broke bread, and drank of the vine...heavily. People from the biz still ask me: You still in Reno? You bet your ass. I'm still working on my American Dream, some jackass attorney gave me quite a detour.

Steven Tyler and Max Volume

Steven Tyler isn't thinking about yesterday. Yesterday got him here. Steven Tyler isn't thinking about Tomorrow. If he keeps his focus on what is happening right now, Tomorrow will be just fine. When I first met Steven Tyler, it was the winter of '85-'86. Aerosmith was reunited. After Joe Perry, and Brad Whitford left to do "The Joe Perry Project", and "Whitford St Holmes", respectively, the band was back to the original members and they had all gotten off the shit. They were on tour with the DiVinyls, a band most remembered for "I touch myself" (note to self: "beware the novelty song"). KOZZ was the presenting station for the double bill at the Lawlor events center in the winter of '86. Aerosmith was touring in support of "Done with Mirrors" an ok album, from the new marrriage to Geffen. The show had only sold maybe 2,000 seats at the 12,000 seat arena. I got a phone call from Daniel Cook, KOZZ's (then) Program Director. I had the night off, and a hot date for the show, but Daniel asked me to come up and be on the air for when Aerosmith came by. Hmmm, Aerosmith, live in the studio? Yeah, I'm down with that. I can do that. This is gonna be so f**king cool. Or will it? I don't know. You never know. As a Dj, you try to champion the new music you believe in, and sometimes the artists reciprocate with a great interview, or they promise to do a meet and greet with a bunch of listeners, and then sometimes they snub radio completely. Here's the scenario that's running through my head as I drove up to the station. These guys are my childhood heroes. What if they're stuck up. What if the interview sucks. What if I turn into a complete dorkwad, (like the deer in the headlights) and I drop the ball. Which guys will be there? Will there be a microphone set up for the band, or will we have to share? What if my relief doesn't show and I'm stuck on air? How late will I be to pick up girlfriend? Even though I'm late, will she be ready then? (all the men know what I'm talking about) My mind was going 120 mph, when I pulled onto the tarmac at KOZZ. Logistics. Algorythms, Logrythms, good God my mind is on fire! I take command in the studio. Sign all the federal documents, take necessary readings. I ask: "Who's coming, do we know"? A lot of times Reno becomes the farm club of other band members. We're the town where Jimmy & Billy get a chance to be in the limelight. We understand that Reno has immense distractions, and can be seen on the map through a string of mild mannered mid west shows as a great spooge happy rompstomp rest and relaxation oasis! Dude, they give you drinks if you're gambling! There's Hot Chicks Everywhere! Ok so we're down with that. We just want to make sure we give our listeners some connection with the band. It's a big day in Reno, when a band hits town, we're all excited. So now they're here. It's Bill Graham himself, with Steven Tyler and Brad Whitford in tow. After proper introductions, Bill Graham stands me and Steven Tyler right next to each other and says, quite firmly, and concisely succint, in the big voice we all knew so well...."You Two, Right Now, You Get On The Air And Sell Some Tickets!" and then, after that impregnated pause with the eye to eye contact was heard "Do You Two Understand?" ..."Now"....he then left the control room to go listen to us down the hall in my bosse's office. There was a small but powerful silence. Steve Tyler looks at me and says "Dad yelled at us". To wit; I replied, "Let's go do our chores". It was like spontaneous combustion. It was like we'd been fiends forever. Steven Tyler makes everyone he meets feel like the most important person in the world. I learned that. We cracked each other up, had a great inspiringly funny interview. Brad Whitford had fun, Steve Tyler was in his element. Steven gave the audience a bit of what to expect in the show by putting several albums on, and "touring the hot riffs" by landing the needle on the selected bits..."we're gonna hear this one, (puts needle down on Sweet Emotion, and what about this one, flips it over for Walk this Way, it was hysterical. It was most fun interview I ever did. Aerosmith went on to kick the shit out of Reno that night live onstage at the Lawlor Events Center. The show ended up doing over 7,000, and BGP was happy. Oh, and by me being late, she was actually ready. Good Times.

Jimmy Page and Max Volume

Coverdale- Page is a Cd that was built right here in Reno Nevada. Jimmy Page came to town one day, after David & Jimmy had decided to do an album of new material together. Both have serious affectations with the Blues. Both have a peculiar gift for the big rock riff. They immediately hit it off. I was there to answer the call when they needed a mobile recording studio, to pan out the "Sketches" of songs to be. This Cd stands as a great meeting of like minds. It's textures, and volleys of guitar amidst the sheer power of Coverdale's vocals, put it right up in my top faves. A rehearsal/ recording space was needed, and we put them in an upstairs square dancing hall near the corner of Mill & Terminal, in Reno, Nevada. Jimmy and I made friends, he's one of the most down to earth, real guys you'll ever meet. I remember the day he flew in his No. #1, THE Les Paul. If I remember correctly, it's a '67 which he got from Joe Walsh, after a show at Winterland. He told me Joe was adamant "You gotta play this guitar"! When it arrived, we were all sitting around David's Lake Tahoe Chateau, and Jimmy was teasing me..."So, you want to see it?" He'd open the case, and then shut it. A couple moments later he's do it again..."You want to see it"? Jimmy Page is very playful. Jimmy Page loves to tell the stories we all have heard. Furniture in a Seattle Hotel, needed to be "set free" ..."somone might need it" ...Fishing from the Hotel balcony? Why not? Televisions landing on Sunset Blvd? "They make a great sound when they explode"! "Ahhh, The Riot house needed new ones". I still have a pack of Camel lights 100's he left in my car, along with the cheesy souvenier "Reno" disposable lighter. One day I let Ben from Red Cel hold them. I often hold them before a show. Taking Jimmy Page out drinking is a serious endeavor. It's like taking a King, or a President out on the town. Working Secret Service style we'd take him to the toilet. I'd walk "point", and we'd remove everyone from his path. Five large men are needed to take Jimmy Page out drinking. That's why I called on my friends in the beverage trade to help. Once we'd secure a safe haven, in whichever Reno, night spot, Jimmy would lean over, and say "Max, you see that Blonde with the big tits? She's the one that wants to meet Jimmy Page". So now I'd approach said lady and ask her to join us. Jimmy Page would always offer up a $100.00 dollar bill for drinks, but we'd never let him spend it. How can you charge the man who gave you the best music of your life, transcending into the greatest moments of you life, for a beer? C'mon now! I firmly believe the English have a special Alcohol gene. You'd go out drinking with Jimmy Page 'til 5am, be completely trashed, and then he'd call at 10am the next day wanting to go to Bizarre guitar! In our next installment...."Max takes David & Jimmy to Poison"!