Only the Ramones could get away with calling him "Vinnie." Actually, Vin Scelsa once described being mentioned in the band's 1981 song, "It's Not My Place (In the 9 to 5 World)," as the most touching moment of his career. Alas, it's a career that will end on Saturday night, May 2, when he signs off WFUV-FM a final time, two days after his last show on SiriusXM's The Loft.
During the past 47 years, Vin has done radio shows his own way on a number of New York-area radio stations. He's had his highs, like being WNEW-FM's prime time disc jockey in the early 1980s, and lows, most notably his complete disappearance from the dial for a couple of years immediately afterwards.
Vin has mesmerized listeners with his mastery of musical segues, and frustrated others with his long talks on the air. But, he's always stuck to his principles and been true to his muse. More importantly, he exposed the muses of many talented artists to an audience of music listeners.
Tom Waits was one such artist that Vin turned New York listeners onto in the mid-1970s. I didn't know about Tom Waits until hearing Vin play him on Sunday mornings. Waits' eclectic sound became music to my ears while in college, especially on mornings after long nights and little sleep. When I heard "The Piano Has Been Drinking" for the first time on Vin's show, I not only started a new musical journey, but began a long, twisting trip through the FM dial.
Vin turned me on to loads of punk and new wave artists, like the Ramones and Patti Smith, after I'd had enough of most mainstream rockers. He introduced listeners to new sounds, including those of John Prine and Black 47, and rekindled passion for some already established, like Bob Dylan. Vin brought personalities like Lou Reed into our homes with lengthy on-air interviews. He also made us laugh by sharing the hilarious tales of T-Shirt and Razoo Kelly.
Besides spinning all kinds of records on the air, he spun stories that were funny -- a fellow DJ's pilfering of the Beatles' White Album before its 1968 release from an E.J. Korvette store was my favorite -- and others that were simply fascinating, e.g., standing next to Jimi Hendrix at a urinal. He also shared stories that were touching, including some involving Townes Van Zandt and Joey Ramone.
Something Vin had little tolerance for, however, was being told what to do by radio station managers. His tenure on prime time at WNEW-FM ended shortly after the station began playing more mainstream music. A brief stay with a Long Island new music station ended not long after Vin insisted on airing some old music.
When Vin began a 10-year stint at WXRK-FM ("K-Rock") in 1985, he didn't think twice about playing music his young daughter would enjoy. Heck, he even convinced David Johansen to cover "Under the Sea" from the Disney movie, The Little Mermaid, which he no doubt watched several times.
Like most of his long-time listeners, I've gotten to know Vin like a friend or family member over the years. I heard his stories about vacationing in Long Beach Island, and working as an expediter for the jewelry business of his wife's family. I learned about him about running and losing weight, and then gaining weight back and becoming ill. I even got to meet him once, at an HBO studio in midtown Manhattan for the screening of a Neville Brothers film hosted by Ed Bradley in 1989.
Being a radio celebrity, however, was not really Vin's thing. Even though he hosted a number of singer-songwriter shows at The Bottom Line in Greenwich Village in the early 1990s, he preferred the solitude of a radio studio and stack of music he often brought in to share with listeners. As he got older and technological advances made it possible, he didn't even leave his Roseland, N.J. house to do his shows; he hosted them from his home studio.
Vin didn't take requests on the air and rarely acknowledged listeners by name, but he didn't snub those who were in tune with what he was doing (and not doing). In late 1978 I wrote him a long, rambling letter, ending it by asking him to play Elvis Costello's "Radio Radio." Sure enough, without mentioning me or my letter, he played the song to open his show the following Sunday night.
In 1986, after I saw Tom Waits perform in "Frank's Wild Years," in Chicago and mailed Vin the printed program, he shared information about the musical stage production and acknowledged receiving my correspondence on the air. About five years later I got through to him on the phone in the wee hours of the morning while he was on the air just to thank him for playing great music. He seemed surprised that "Charley from Bloomfield" didn't request a song.
Like many people who survived the 1960s, Vin has slowed down a bit over the years. In his prime, he often stayed on the air long past when his show was scheduled to end. A few years ago, he trimmed his four-hour WFUV-FM "idiot's Delight" show to two hours, between 8-10 p.m. Now, at 67, he'll be shutting off his microphone a last time to write and work a bit with his daughter.
Most radio listeners today have probably not heard of Vin Scelsa, but that's probably okay with him. Lots of people aren't familiar with Tom Waits, but he's in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Those of us fortunate to ride along on Vin's musical journey over the decades will always remember how he enriched our lives, and will never forget him.
Vin Scelsa with Lou Reed
(photo from WFUV-FM)
