(Retroactive attained its 25th anniversary in April 2019 and Bo Jones is back to interview J.J. Syrja in January 2020 as he goes for 26. The show is heard Saturdays from 9am-12pm Pacific Time on KAOS-FM/Olympia 89.3; see all playlists from 1994 to the present on this site or more detailed info at www.spinitron.com).
Bo: You're still at it!
J.J.: Yeah! More than once, I've had a phone call where a listener says they've moved away from the area, later returned and I'm still on the air. There's streaming, of course, but it feels good to be a part of a community where someone can still get KAOS on their old-fashioned radio.
Bo: What is state of Retroactive now?
J.J.: I'd like to think that the show is surprisingly consistent and good; there's at least a subtle transformation in terms of program content over the years and I'm still excited about fine tuning it every week. I've built an audience, however small, and the response I get at KAOS membership time is gratifying.
Bo: Any down side to how you feel about your work?
J.J.: Sure. I regret having a limited amount of time to assemble the pieces of a three hour show, as I'm working two jobs and have had only a few days off per year since 2013. Thankfully, I can listen to music at my second job and while on the road. It's a bit disappointing that I can't arrive at the station as early as I wish and go through stacks of music or check the internet. In addition to several hours of prep at home, I'm here 60 minutes before airtime and it's a mad dash to put the finishing touches on what's coming up.
Bo: What are your major strengths?
J.J.: Friendliness, enthusiasm, kindness...they go a long way and it's the type of radio I heard growing up. I'm proud of this, too: I'm only slightly exaggerating when I say that I remember everything. I'm talking about the thrill of Top 40 in the '60s; the wild extremes of '70s FM free form rock when I lived in Michigan and Texas; even those elusive songs I heard only once! Early in the '70s there was a Loudon Wainwright III number, "Central Square Song," that I thought might be him. The record had harmonica and the line "Mary McGuire and Big Frank Clark got drunk again last night" stayed with me for decades until YouTube existed and someone could tell me what the song was. And then the Discogs site to tell me what album it's on.
Bo: You are convincing when saying that you have been in the right place at the right time as far as rock'n'roll goes.
J.J.: I have been! Growing up in the Detroit area, there were only two Top 40 stations worth listening to in my 1960s AM radio world--WKNR and CKLW--and it was a rare era where the best music was also the most popular: The Beatles, Stones, Dylan, Motown, Stax, Creedence, Sly, Aretha. My FM connection--WABX, which aired lots of Jimi Hendrix--was way ahead of the others, playing what is now called "deep cuts." My music pals and I weren't button pushers and it's so fortunate for me that I developed an attention span instead of lunging to switch the radio dial just because I was unfamiliar with or didn't like what was on. And Austin radio had its own creative flavor.
Bo: There are plenty of east and west coast music geeks who probably don't give Detroit and Austin their due.
J.J.: Music industry pundit Bob Lefsetz once suggested that the two radio markets I loved so much were overrated. He wrote in a rather condescending way that Los Angeles was the premier rock radio market because it had so many frequencies and if a listener didn't like what was on, they could just punch up another station. I emailed him that his criteria for what makes great radio was plain wrong. Having had fewer choices as part of a captive audience is precisely what made me a better listener in the '70s. My favorite station not only played what was cutting edge--say, Roxy Music--or what was really popular--the Stones--they also played the occasional 1950s gem, like Bo Diddley. Did L.A. stations in their supposed heyday actually put Bo Diddley on the air? If "Road Runner" was on the radio in L.A., super trendy consumers would be switching stations, and anyone skipping the roots of rock'n'roll is depriving themselves of something primal.
Bo: Radio that caters to a dumbed-down arena rock crowd might have something to do with why the music's impact has lessened over recent decades. Those running the show don't really want a new, once in a generation innovator--they want throwaway music with catchy hooks.
J.J.: Absolutely! Going back to the timeless riches of rock'n'roll, one of my true music pals was playing Chuck Berry at work and a co-worker into Journey, Def Leppard and all that glossy, soulless crap asked him, "How long have you been listening to this kind of music?" What the hell! When did early rock become "this kind of music"?
Bo: What's changed about music and Retroactive since I last interviewed you?
J.J.: It's all gone to hell! Not really. Sometimes I can get cynical about the state of rock'n'roll but along comes someone like Courtney Barnett or Ty Segall to breathe new life into it, so I never think it's "had its day." But it has become harder to cram a representative batch of what's most important to me into three hours. Twenty some years on, there's an entire history of Olympia and Northwest DIY (Do It Yourself) music and punk since I arrived here, which I still draw from. Hip hop is as bold and innovative as what Charlie Parker, Sister Rosetta Tharpe or Prince did in past decades and yet it doesn't inform what I do much. I felt closer to hip hop in the '80s--and my favorite decade for reggae will always be the '70s. I've taken some shit for not being thrilled about Americana--the Jayhawks, for instance--or proto-Americana like the Grateful Dead. Too much of what's labeled Americana sounds like a retreat to me, whereas punk or the retro soul Sharon Jones created gets in your face. I'm in the minority, but the Dead never excited me. A few good songs, a friendly Jerry Garcia guitar sound--yet their stuff rarely catches fire. Save for "Uncle John's Band," because David Crosby taught them how to harmonize on it, their vocals range from anemic to mediocre. My Americana artists are Carl Perkins, the Band, Lucinda Williams. And I call Mavis Staples an Americana artist because you can't categorize her style as blues, gospel, rock or R&B. It's all of those elements.
Bo: You have long reminded the audience of the work from artists who have passed as time moves on.
J.J.: I hope I'm not being morbid about honoring and remembering those who have died; it's really important to celebrate their artistry, which will live on through their recordings. Most radio stations mentioned the death of Fats Domino a few years back yet his full impact on American music is lost unless you play his wonderful records...there are gobs of them. The almost weekly tributes provide a learning process for me. Take the late Michel Legrand, the French artist who wrote movie soundtrack staples like "The Windmills of Your Mind." I was surprised to find an album where he's playing edgy boogie woogie on piano and covering the bluesy side of Aaron Copland. It's one of many ear-opening discoveries.
Bo: How about a few words of advice to new DJs as far as keeping their programming fresh and vibrant?
J.J.: Make your presentation sound magical! That means not cutting off audience applause at the end of a live track--fade that out as you're talking over the cheering! Don't be lazy, disc jockeys. You have the opportunity to create something that the radio listener can not possibly do at home--unless they have faders on their sound system, of course. Have an idea of what you want to say before you go on the air, but have the flexibility to change when a new idea wants to be unleashed. Musically, establish a core sound, then move away from it, then come back. Using the element of surprise, like a bit of cheap nostalgia--I played "Yummy Yummy Yummy" once--is a fun detour, but don't overdo it. If I'm doing a birthday tribute to a soul singer, the set before that is usually rock-oriented, which sets up a nice change of pace. And that birthday recipient is usually not played for a few months leading up to that special segment. You want the listener to be craving music from that artist; you don't want them to be saying, "That DJ plays him/her/they/them all the time."
Bo: While Retroactive has a familiar feel to it, you mainly avoid the tried and true.
J.J.: Thanks, and I guess that's a good place to end this chat. Patti Smith's biggest hit was "Because the Night." I avoided playing that on the show until I had aired more than 30 of her other songs over the years--and when it was played, it was in a three-song birthday set. I want the program to be accessible yet not so easy to peg, usually sans the artist's best known songs. So why would I nix playing "Good Vibrations" or "Hey Jude"? Scan the Seattle radio dial and those ultra successful songs are there every day; KAOS is supposed to be different. Here's a better example than the Patti Smith song: My wife Gina has been incredibly supportive of my hard work and understands the way I want Retroactive to resonate. She said, incredulously, that her friend heard "I Walk the Line" during my Johnny Cash set--in my opinion, it's still a stunning record but a really obvious choice. "Aw, I accidentally cued the wrong track," I told her. Gina started laughing, saying, "I knew you wouldn't play that!"