 |
| Harold RASHMUSHER Jr. noshing in the KILLERWATT's commissary on July 13, 1977, the day of the Great Blackout. |
 |
| Vin CYCLONE c. 1977 |
Overnight disc jockey Vin CYCLONE was the first of the air talent to arrive. He found no records to play. No tapes to cue up. A quick call to “Voice of the KILLERWATT,” Bobby ROBERTO, (yes, phones worked,) and he’s en-route, rowing up the pitch black Gowanus Canal, sitting on crates of records stowed aboard. The recording above chronicles KLW's "journey through a dark, lawless night, the Great Blackout of 1977."
Let's get up-close and personal with a few of the major players in tonight's real life drama!
 |
| Bobby ROBERTO c. 1980 |
Bobby ROBERTO
He's been the Voice of the KILLERWATT since 1972. Truckers pushing big rigs down the inter-slab hear one syllable of Bobby's voice identifying the station, and they know they are pointed toward New York City. Bobby IS the brand!
Before Mr. Rashmusher Sr. (CEO of Conflamed Media Global, owners of the KILLERWATT, 1921-1974) coaxed ROBERTO to join CMG's flagship station, Bobby was flirting with dozens of stations up and down the Pacific coast. Long hair, psychedelics, living on the beach and getting around on a BSA 650 Lightning motorcycle suited him. But he didn't realize his degenerate music jockey days were about to end. It was during an air-shift at Mexican border-blaster radio station XERB that ROBERTO received a cryptic telegram from Rashmusher: "I can't believe you do not have a phone. Who doesn't have a phone? Who lives on the beach? You're a wild one Mr. Robert. My son said I should hire you." The message ended there. Without thinking twice, Bobby said thanks to Wolfman Jack for giving him his start in the business, then rolled eastward, carrying only a sleeping bag, lashed to his handlebars. Helloooo New York! He's been radiating from Signal Hill, Brooklyn, ever since.
 |
| Dave WASTED c. 1977. |
Dave WASTED
Dave was dabbling in college radio at the time. but never enrolled as a student. He would waltz into various tri-state area college stations at will, and harangue the pot smoking, jazz fusion listening, beige wearing, long-haired college radio jockeys who were too peaceful and soft spoken to kick him out. He was a college radio station urchin. An omnipresent annoyance who was trying to get in front of any microphone. WASTED first acknowledged KLW was "the shit" when he heard it from the back seat of a patrol car during the blackout. An epiphany. In future episodes he'll meet-up with a few KLW staffers and Scottso -- who at the time was working at a different radio station -- at the Cheyenne diner on blackout night.
Harold RASHMUSHER Jr. (top photo)
A mensch. CEO of Conflamed Media Global, owners of the KILLERWATT, CMG’s flagship station. Has longstanding “prostrate” (sic) problems. Rashmusher was attempting to take a leak in the private bathroom behind the record library of KLW’s Manhattan studio (31st St. between Park Ave South and Madison) when the lights went out. Moments later, the building was looted, then burned. He made his way to the transmitter site on Signal Hill Brooklyn, arriving shortly after Bobby ROBERTO.
 |
| Retro SCOTTSO During the Blackout of ‘77, SCOTTSO was at New York’s progressive rock station, WNEW FM, where he remained until 1998. He then joined WAXQ (Q-104.3) until his death from a stroke in 2004. Shortly thereafter, it is rumored that Rashmusher leveraged associates practiced in dark, mystical arts conjuring Retro SCOTTSO back to the airwaves -- and the saloon. |
 | |
Chadwicke (Chad) Burger He's an RF (Radio
Frequency) engineer. Kind of a nerd. Sweet guy. Burger's physical
configuration doesn’t stop him from climbing antennas to replace beacon
lights. |
 |
Sid Walker Chief Engineer, KLW the KILLERWATT. A CMG company man. He's busy, irritated, grizzled. Sid's the boss of Engineering!  |
 |
*The quality of the audio reflects the off-the-air nature of the recording, that is, a consumer tape recorder's microphone placed in front of a 1960s vintage tube-type Zenith kitchen radio. Also note the recordist was 685 miles away from Signal Hill, Brooklyn, hearing the KILLERWATT's 50,000 watt AM signal via night-time "skip," or "skywave."
Interested in joining KLW's cracked team of radio fanatics? Info here.
Support the KILLERWATT. Buy us some java:
