What do you do when something you love so much does something you hate?
I listen to the radio on a regular basis, and nearly all of that time my radio is tuned to 100.7 WZLX. One might call me a loyal listener. I love classic rock, and in Boston when you want classic rock ZLX is where you turn.
Growing up between two mediocre cities with two mediocre classic rock stations, I got used to flipping around for tunes. They called me the "seeker." Poking at the car radio often enough to leave my index finger sore and eardrums bruised, I got used to a hunks of rotting musical driftwood floating between the awesome Zep sets, Clapton riffs, and glorious Bohemian Rhapsodies.
But suddenly, upon arriving in Boston, I was more than pleased to discover a near perfect classic rock station that consistently played one damned good song after the next. I soon learned to trust WZLX. I could always count on them. When I wanted good music, I knew where to turn, and I was grateful to live in a city with such a fine radio station. My head rocked back and forth; I lived my life to heavy drum beats and roaring guitar licks. Ahhh, these truly were "glory days. In the wink of a young girl's eye, glory days, glory days," I sang to myself - or maybe that was just Bruce Springsteen.
But, of course, there's that phrase: something about glory fading, something in Latin. Could this apply to my favored radio station? Could WZLX, a station I had hoped would forever continue spreading musical joy in the form of Van Halen ballads like "Hot for Teacher," lose its steam? Sadly, I'm afraid this just might be the case.
Don't get me wrong: every radio station, even the truly great ones, are allowed to let a few musical farts fly from time to time. It's when such flatulence becomes a habit that people no longer want to be associated with you.
So, when I turned on the radio one morning and was treated to Fleetwood Mac's "Gypsy" I said "ugg" and turned the radio off. I came back five minutes later and Steve Miller Band's "Joker" echoed through the room. Ahhh, yes, "Thank you, ZLX ," I said. "Some people call me Maurice," I hummed.
Imagine my surprise, however, when later in the day after a long, grueling adventure involving classes, meetings, and naps, I returned home, turned on my old friend, only to be treated to, yes, yet another Fleetwood Mac tune: "Go Your Own Way." Don't get me wrong, Fleetwood Mac ain't so bad. I mean "Don't Stop" evokes a certain cheery Clintonian optimism I love, and there must be a reason Rumours is one of the biggest selling albums of all-time.
But damn it, Stevie Nicks is supremely annoying, and it seems like over the years the band's soft rock sound slipped a lot closer to the soft side than the rock side. Of course, there's nothing wrong with soft things per se (I like pillows and feathers as much as the next person), but on a classic rock station? No thank you, I'll pass.
But of course, I couldn't pass, not when it came to ZLX. Perhaps it was just coincidence that whenever I tuned in I heard Fleetwod Mac songs, but I find that hard to believe. Everyday, every time I had the radio on, I was tortured with another painful experience. I lived life in foggy purple haze. It felt to me as if the folks at the station had an elaborate computer system that alerted them when I tuned in. That system then set off a big flashing red light with the words Play Fleetwood Mac on it.
Meanwhile my own head throbbed, glowing bright with its own flashing red light that said "Why?" Like Mick Jagger,. I couldn't get any satisfaction.
Something had to be done, but what? Last week when I heard that the upcoming long weekend was to be an "All Request Classic Rock Weekend" I knew. I picked up my phone and dialed.
DJ: WZLX "All Request Weekend" What can I do for you.
Me: So you're taking requests?
DJ: Yeah, what would you like to hear?
Me: Well, I'd like to request that you not play Fleetwood Mac.
DJ: Not play Fleetwood Mac?
Me: Yeah, it's like every other song you play is by Fleetwood Mac and I don't like them at all.
DJ: Well, that's not true.
Me: It practically is.
DJ: Well we play a lot of CCR and Zeppelin, no one's complaining about that.
Me: Yeah, that's because they're good. People like that music. But Fleetwood Mac, come on?
The DJ was neither amused nor interested. He went on to tell me about market research and statistical analysis. He told me that radio stations have guidelines and they play music by the numbers according to what's most popular. He told me that Fleetwood Mac's Lindsey Buckingham was one of rock's most underrated guitarists. He told me that the radio station was "no longer like jukebox." Every words the DJ uttered was another brick in the wall, closing me into a dark, unpleasant world. I wanted to be somewhere else, down on the corner, up on cripple creek, anywhere but here. My heart sunk, my gut churned. Shrouded in disappointment, I was suddenly Tom Petty, suddenly free fallin'.
So what to do? I guess I'm just going to learn to deal, to live with a classic rock station that is in my eyes, less than perfect. I've been handling it alright so far, learning to rely a little less on those tunes to set the rhythm of my day, developing my CD collection, and always, always remembering the words of a few old fogies who once sang, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try some time, you get what you need." Amen.
