RADIOHEAD STORY : #1

  I started as an intern at WDRE out on Long Island in April 1990., within two weeks Malibu Sue hooked me up with a paying gig doing data entry. From that I started producing her "Top 30 Count Down". A Casey Kasem-ish count down of the weeks top requested songs at WDRE as well as a cross section of record sales from local independent record shops across our listening area, as well as Square Circle, Record World, and Tower Records.
  I would do my research (pre-Google) via communication by telephone and fax to record company personnel. I would also thumb through endless magazines, fanzines..etc...
  Anyway, Sue (Malibu Sue) offered up her office for me to work in. Prior to that...I moved my manila folders from place to place around the radio station. So, right from the beginning, as I was researching facts about "our" next count down. ...various musicians would show up to be interviewed and need a place to hang out before going on air. They need a safe place away from gauging eyes of "sales reps", "interns", "goofy radio personalities",...etc....Sooooo they put these people in Malibu Sue's office. The office where I worked.
  I met many artists this way. They'd be shuffled off to Malibu Sue's office, pushed inside, and there was me. Little ole Dave Jemmott, writing, calling, faxing....and as soon as they were led in and the door was closed behind them, I'd stand up and introduce myself.. I'd offer them coffee and get back to "my" work. Leaving them alone.
  Sometimes conversations would come to me. Sometimes they wouldn't.

 Anyway, by 1993 I had had quite a few experiences meeting musicians, famous and not quite famous. When this band named "Radiohead" where out supporting the "Pablo Honey" LP & the single "Creep". They stopped by for an interview. They were all stuffed in my office. After their "on air" with Malibu Sue, they were going to SPRATS nightclub in Westbury for a "Meet & Greet" autograph signing session while Malibu Sue  and I did WDRE's "Party Outta Bounds" Weekend Kick Off!!!!

   The tour manager & some record company guy tell the band they have to now go "SPRATS" and "meet & greet"....they are not happy.
   The record company guy asks me if I know where "SPRATS" is?....I do....and not only do I know, but I'm suppose to work there from 4:00 - 6pm. Doing "Radio Emcee Shit".
  I tell him it's just up the block and I'd show them the way, but my car is the shop. So he says, "Why don't you hop in the limousine with us?"
  Twenty minutes later I'm in a limo with RADIOHEAD, their manager, and a record company rep, I'm sitting next to Thom Yorke. Thom's head is up against the window. We are driving on Merrick Ave. He's staring out at Eisenhower Park. I look at guitarist Jonny Greenwood and ask, "What the fuck are you guys doing going to SPRATS? The crowd sucks. You'll be lucky if they know who the fuck you are. All young yuppies, Mother Fuckers."
  I look forward. The record company guy is giving me the "cut it" symbol...slash across his throat....and Thom Yorke lefts his head off the car's window and says, "I FUCKING told you so." Collasping back into the closed window.
  We arrive at SPRATS. Pull in back. The band waits. They rest, we go inside. Set up a folding table. Lay out 8x10 photos and Sharpies. People start showing up, drinking, eating. We bring the band in. They sit at the folding table......and wait. After a few minutes some twenty-something guy dressed in a business suit approaches the table and asks, "So are you guys in a band or something?'
  Thom Yorke gets up and walks out.

The End.

Getting Paid $40 to See Pixies (Resurrecting the Ghost of Studio 54)

  I La La Love The Pixies. I've seen them 6 or 7 times. (Frank Black once. The Breeders twice). In 1991 their Trompe le Monde Tour stopped in New York at The New Ritz. The venue was once home to Studio 54. I got two pairs of tickets for free from WDRE, the radio station I was affiliated with at the time. I went to the show with my buddy Ivano from Italy, Matty the Horse (The WDRE Van Driver) & his girlfriend. 

  We drove into New York City from Long Island and parked over on 9th Ave. The four of us were walking down 54th St. toward the venue when we were pounced on by the usual swarm of scalpers...and their cries, "Who needs tickets?"..."Who's selling?"...etc... I saw a scalper I had dealt with before and said, "Hello.".

  He asked if we had extra tickets. I told him, "No."  He then asked (in his almost Russian accent), "Are you on the list or do you have actual tickets?"

  "We have tickets. No guest list tonight."

  He said, "I'll give you guys ten bucks a piece...and still get you into the show if you give me those tickets."

  "Wait.....I hand you these tickets. You hand me $40 and then you STILL get us into the show?", I questioned.

  "Yes."

  I looked at my friends. Matty & his girl shrugged. Ivano was like, "No fucking way!!!" (I told Ivano to be quiet and follow my lead.) 

  "Let's do it." I said as I reached into my pocket, pulled out the tickets & handed them over. This stocky, Eastern European scalper held up the tickets to the sky, looked at them and quickly shoved them into his jacket pocket. Reaching into his jeans, he pull out a wad of twenties and handed me two...and said, "Let's go."

  We walked pass the venue. Through the crowd out front and stopped at the building next door. The scalper said,     "OK. Two at a time. Who's going first?" 

 We all looked at each other, dumbfounded. I turned to the scalper and said, "Me! Me and him." Pointing to Ivano.

 The scalper told us to follow him into the building. He told the other two to wait and he'd be back for them in five minutes. 

  We walk in and follow this guy to the elevator. He presses the button and turns to me and with his thick Baltic/Russian/Ukraine..whatever accent says, "This is how they used to sneak people into Studio 54. You know Studio 54?, disco, very popular disco, it was." We wait a few seconds and .."DING!" The doors open and the three of us step inside. The doors close and we head down to the basement. 

  The doors open. Its dark. You can smell the damp air. "Ssssssh...this way. Stay close. Watch your step."

  This guy, that I've only met on the streets of New York to do illegal activity, leads us down a dingy corridor, Exposed cinder block walls. Puddles splashing with each step. We get to a doorway, look in. Across the room is a hole in the wall and there's a light on the other side. "Go to the hole over there and wait for instructions."

  At this point, my friend from Italy grabs my arm and whispers firmly, "NO FUCKING WAY."

  I tell him to be brave. We walk across, through the darkness and just as we are a yard from the hole...a hand reaches through and gestures to hurry. I'm the first one through. Ivano right behind. Now we are standing in a brightly lit room. There are walk in refrigerators and industrial equipment laying about and this shady looking guy points down the hallway to a stairwell. He says, "Go up those stairs. Open the door and you're in."

  We bolt! Down the hall. Up the stairs. Stopping at the landing, we can hear the music blasting, there's a door on the left and a door on the right. I grab the door knob on the right and we rush in. We are now standing behind the bar in The Ritz. The bartenders look at us. We turn around and run to the other door. We open it. Step out. WE ARE IN!!! 

  We run into the crowd. Hug. High five!!!! Ten minutes later Matty & his girl emerge, smiling. Matty grabs me and says, "Holy shit!!! That was c-c-c-c-razy!!!!"

PIXIES KILLED IT THAT NIGHT. They ended with "U Mass", one of my favorites.

I got this sticker that night.