THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 9, 1995 TAG: 9507090205
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B3 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: [PAUL SOUTH]
LENGTH: Medium: 76 lines
When Steve Brumfield was growing up in northern California, he'd sneak a transistor radio under the covers late at night to listen to rock 'n' roll.
And to a deejay named Wolfman Jack.
``I don't think he came on until after midnight from that station down in Mexico,'' said Brumfield, now the manager of Manteo Booksellers. ``But you could hear him in northern California, and if you headed south in your car toward L.A. or San Diego, he'd just come blasting in there.''
Brumfield came of age in the 1960s, when the capitals of pop culture were Memphis and Motown, Liverpool and Los Angeles. But while most radio stations were spinning the cutting edge sounds of the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, the Doors and the Temptations, Wolfman howled to a different tune.
``He played more classic rock n' roll,'' said Brumfield. ``There were a lot of stations in the Bay area that when a new album would come out, they'd play a cut from that about every 15 minutes. Between the new songs, we'd scan the dial 'til we found the old Wolfman. He played a lot of funky blues.''
Wolfman Jack's unique style won a loyal following. In a radio world where disc jockeys seemed to be cookie-cutter-produced with ``Hey, I'm from nowhere'' voices, the Wolfman shattered the mold.
``He had an offbeat style,'' Brumfield said. ``Most all of the other disc jockeys had this sort of homogenized voice, but Wolfman was different. He'd do things like call-ins. Some girl would call up, and he'd say, `Get closer to the phone, baby. Give me a kiss.' You'd hear this mmmmm-ahhh, and he'd kick right into the song. It was great. We never knew if those calls were real, or if they were made up.''
Ken Mann, the owner of WNHW in Nags Head, said that even the fame Wolfman Jack enjoyed in the 1970s could not overshadow the music.
``Even though he was a personality, he concentrated on the songs,'' Mann said. ``He was The Wolfman, but the songs were most important.''
The Wolfman, who became known to millions for his real-life role in the movie ``American Graffiti,'' never bought into the modern philosophy of raunchy radio amd abusive language.
``He had a contagious enthusiasm that uplifted people,'' said Mann. ``Unlike some of the deejays today, he never said anything derogatory about anybody. Not only that, but he never said anything on the air that was offensive to anyone. The music was what was important. It's not that way today.''
John Harper of Manteo spent 18 years in radio, half that time on the Outer Banks. Now an entertainment writer for ``The Carolina Coast,Harper said they don't make announcers like the Wolfman anymore.
``The first time I heard him was the late '60s,'' Harper recalled. ``I was thinking about getting into radio, and I was talking to this guy, and he told me about a deejay down in Mexico who howled. I found the station one night, heard him howl, and thought, `What a great gimmick.' But the more I listened, the more I realized this guy was not a gimmick. He had heart. He had soul. He was the real thing.''
There is much to miss about Wolfman Jack, who died last week at his Belvidere home at a too-young 57. Those who knew him remembered his kindness. Those who listened to him remembered the fun he brought to lonely teenage nights filled with trigonometry homework.
But more than anything else, in a world that settles too often for carbon copies, Wolfman Jack was an American original. by CNB