Albuquerque Journal from Albuquerque, New Mexico • Page 19

Television 4 Thursday, November 4, 1993 Albuquerque Journal Page 1, Section mn-mmm Doo-wop and rock from the mid 1 950i to the mid 1960s Hot Lix" Droaramf n) Saturdays 7-fO p.m. featurinq 7 Li rhythm and blues of the 1950s 1 IT iLoUA II in in mi mn iiiiiiiii i kJlfi3.5 p) I p) ft I ilZbfl Id "Cruisin" Saturday Night J) 7 p.m.-midninht Ofdi (dies 1955-75 KZKl-BOOIJj Aiyj 1960s-based oldies, with some crossover into 5 1950s and 1970s A Big band and "crooners" from the 1940s and 960s oldies, plus some '50s ana vus RUSS BALL JOURNAL AM Station Specializes In Music Of the '50s By Rick Nathanson JOURNAL STAFF WRITER WAS A TIME of poodle skirts and saddle shoes. Self-service gas stations were unheard of: Neighborhood diners were common. Beatniks were on the cutting edge. The airwaves vibrated with the new medium of television.

Americans lived "The Life of Riley" and took it for granted that "Father Knows Best." Everybody loved Lucy. But nothing captured the upbeat style and mood of the post-war 1950s I 7 4 i 7i I 1 lil it yfi i I i-7 xfA'vv 7'" -7 'A i 1 V.7 JimBelshaw OF THE JOURNAL You, Sinatra And The Freeway Blues IN THE NOT-TOO-DISTANT FUTURE maybe the next 45 minutes or so somewhere on 1-40 the Albuquerque Fire Department Rescue Squad will leap from its emergency vehicle race to the crumpled remains of a commuter's car, fire up the Jaws of Life, a device used to cut through metal and beloved by TV reporters everywhere because they all need a demo tape of themselves saying "Jaws of Life" on the air and the firemen will begin the long grueling job of prying an accident victim from the twisted metal. These dedicated, highly-trained rescue experts will let nothing stand in their way and they will spend hours on the job, all day, all night, doing whatever it takes, no matter the effort, no matter the cost. Anything to stop the victim from singing or at least to reach into the wreck and unplug the karaoke from the cigarette lighter. Friends, I have seen the future.

It is bleak. Stanley Keith showed it to me in the parking lot of Music Mart on Yale Southeast. But first, I need to make an apology. In the past, I have remarked harshly on the habits of certain cellular phone users. I hereby retract those remarks.

I still become emotional at the memory of the woman who, with a cellular phone in one hand and a steering wheel in the other, swerved at the last moment to avoid a head-on collision. And I have not forgotten the rude goofball at the Winrock Theatre who made and received celluar phone calls while everyone around him tried to watch the movie. But these were only phone calls. No one sang. Stanley Keith and I are in the cab of my pickup in the Music Mart parking lot.

We are in the parking lot because I am a strong person who steadfastly refused to drive anywhere while wearing the headset from the Sanyo PAT-C10 Sing-Along System. Also, I tell Stanley that regardless of our immobility he shouldn't be holding his breath while waiting for ipe to sing, either. Stanley opens a box and carefully pulls out the Sanyo PAT-C10 Sing-Along System. Friends, do you know what "karaoke" is? It comes to us from Japan. The word "karaoke" roughly translates to: "If the networks hadn't canceled Mitch Miller's show back in the '60s this probably wouldn't be happening to us." And now we have karaoke in your car.

With a karaoke system, the alleged singer you plugs in a tape or CD that has all the music but not the words. You supply the words, whether you can sing or not. Then you sing, theoretically loud enough so other people can hear you. Stanley says there are seven karaoke bars in Albuquerque, and for three years or so they have been doing a booming business that shows no sign of slowing down. Music Mart alone has 2,000 karaoke songs on tape and 20 CDs.

"We don't order a lot of stuff because we don't have any place to put it right now, but when we get into the new store, we'll carry it," Stanley says. "We're selling 30 tapes a day. It's all the rage." Thirty tapes a day. All the rage. And now it's in cars, hurtling along the freeway.

"It comes through your car stereo," Stanley says. "This unit costs $269, but they go up to around $1,250." Stanley slips a tape cassette into the dashboard, plugs a wire into the cigarette lighter and unravels the wire connected to the microphone headset. "It's a hands-free operation," Stanley says. OK, but why don't I find this comforting? The unit comes with lyric sheets, too, but fortunately it is not required that the driver read the lyric sheet while singing into his karaoke while driving down the freeway. One side of the tape has words, freeing the driver from having to read lyrics and drive at the same time.

This strikes me as a safety feature, an aural airbag. Stanley slips a Sinatra tape into the tape deck and punches the play button. The music begins. The song is "The Lady Is a Tramp." The music goes and goes. Stanley does not sing.

Neither do I. Stanley flips over the tape and we listen to the side with the words. He turns it back to music only. Stanley mutters a line or two into the mike. I decide Stanley is the bravest person I have met in my life.

"Sinatra really isn't my generation," he says. I tell himjjnow Sinatra songs, I can do Sinatra. I slip on the karaoke headset, the music begins, I mutter once, I mutter again, and somewhere Rodgers and Hart spin in their graves. Back inside the store, Stanley shows me the larger stage unit the store rents for $100. It comes with CDs, tapes and video monitor on which the lyrics roll by, each line highlighted so the singer knows when to belt it out.

"It's not just bars," Stanley says. "There are lots of rentals to churches and companies for annual parties and picnics and that sort of thing. Casey Luna Ford rented this for a company party." I ask him if the lieutenant governor sang. "I don't know," Stanley says. "Mrs.

Luna picked It up at the store. She loved it." As I walk out to the parking lot it occurs to me that the lieutenant governor might have invited the governor to that company party in Belen. Do you suppose Bruce King actually picked up that karaoke microphone and It's probably best not to think about it JAIME DISPENZAJOURNAL Lucille Garcia, an employee of YesterDaves Bakery and Grill, dresses in the 1950s theme of the eatery, which also features a working '50s' era juke box that plays many of the same tunes featured on "Jukebox Oldies" station BO-AM. like the music. "Looking back, there was nothing much to be depressed about," explained Albuquerque radio personality Bobby Box.

"The war in Korea was over, Eisenhower was in office and the only thing he contributed to politics was a better golf score. "Everybody was just on a natural high. The music was carefree and happy and reflected what was on people's minds love and cars and dancing. It's what cheatin' husbands, pickup trucks and hard drinkin' are to country music." Box, 52, has been a familiar voice over various Albuquerque airwaves since the 1960s but these days he is specializing in the music he really loves, and he's broadcasting it over a radio station he co-owns. KJBO-AM, which he promotes as "Jukebox Oldies," went on the air in July.

To steal a 1959 line from the Platters, has smoke gotten in this man's eyes? The Albuquerque airwaves are already saturated with more than 40 radio stations, and most of the listeners are tuned to the FM dial. According to a recent Arbitron radio survey, in fact, only 25 percent of Albuquerque listeners are tuned to AM at any given hour of the day. In an environment like that, why would Box even think of introducing another station an AM oldies station no less? Well, to Bobby Box it makes perfect sense. "It's gonna' work out fine," he says with a grin, borrowing a line from a 1961 Ike and Tina Turner hit song. First, there is a certain amount of novelty to KJBO because it is on the AM band.

"I wanted to do this on the AM," Box said. "It was a prime goal. The AM dial is where it all began, and we're very proud of it. FM really didn't catch on until the mid-'70s, and the oldies stations that are now on the FM appeal mostly to a younger crowd." Second, Box plays only American artists, concentrating on the years 1954 through 1965. There are a few exceptions this particular jukebox plays anything by Elvis Presley, regardless of the year, for example.

But aficionados of doo-wop and early rock can look to KJBO for such fare as Clarence "Frogman" Henry lamenting that he "Ain't Got No Home," Shelly Fabares pining away for "Johnny Angel," and Jerry Lee Lewis having fits with a "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On." The other oldies rock stations feature a wide range of American and British music of the 1960s as the core of their playlist (with occasional forays into the decades of the '50s and the 70s). But as far as Box is concerned, the music stopped in 1964. "The Beatles changed everything when they hit in January 1964 with 'I Want To Hold Your Box said. "Then the Paul Ankas and the Ricky Nelsons and all the teen idols and doo-wop groups took a back seat." Even Elvis was a casualty of the so-called British invasion, which also included groups like The Rolling Stones, Herman's Hermits, The MORE: See AM STATION on PAGE B2 7 .7 ,) RUBEN D. LUEVANO JOURNAL Bobby Box, a longtime voice over the Albuquerque airwaves, is a co-owner and morning drive-time announcer on KJBO-AM..