Sometimes I wish I’d kept absolutely everything from my college radio days. My time as a student broadcaster predated the point when hefty archives could be handily condensed down to a dinky drive the size of exhausted cigar stub, so any exhaustive collection would have been a bulging box of papers and audio tape. No matter the pack rat tendencies that lurk inside me, dragging my history from home to home (and eventually state to state) simply wasn’t feasible. I know that. Still, I’d love to load up different slices of bygone broadcast days.
I’m often surprised at just which fragments of memory can still the wistful nostalgia. To present a typical and absurd example, I’d really enjoy once again hearing what we called “the Mo’ Money montage.”
During the summer of 1992, I was earning most of my beer money (and, you know, funds for rent and food and stuff) by working at a local movie theater. I took advantage of that connection — and the fact that the theater was run by a highly pliable manager — to secure movie ticket giveaways for the radio station. Specifically, I orchestrated tickets for the opening weekend of the movies that were hoping to reap the rewards of eager summer ticket-buyers. While this occasionally meant highly coveted prizes such as Batman Returns passes, it was more likely that we were urging listeners to get excited about the likes of fated underperformers like Alien 3 and Boomerang. (We had the good sense to not even both with a Man Trouble giveaway.)
By mid-summer, we were getting a little bored with the standard, “It’s time for tickets; caller seven wins” approach to doling out the goods. So we came up with a slightly different approach when we had tickets for Mo’ Money, the comedy that hoped to capitalize on the buzzy success Damon Wayans was enjoying with the television series In Living Color. We edited together a bunch of songs and sound clips that included the word money and dropped it in the midst of sets of music. When listeners heard the “Mo’ Money montage,” that was their cue to call in to win.
As I recall, the sharp finale of those handful of highly-edited seconds was the one of the closing refrains from the Daisy Chainsaw single “Love Your Money.” This was the sort of song that arrived at the radio station and immediately exploded. Driving, catchy, sardonic, and over in less than three minutes, this was the sort of single we college kids could instinctively embrace. I still have a version of that track, and it has the same energizing effect every time it shuffles up. I just wish that montage occasionally shuffled up, too.
Listen or download –> Daisy Chainsaw, “Love Your Money”
(Disclaimer: To be honest, I didn’t check to see if this song is still in print in a physical format that can be procured from your favorite local, independently-owned record store in a manner that compensates both the original artist and the proprietor of said store. If it is, please view this shared track as encouragement to engage in proper commerce to experience more of the band’s music. Or maybe go buy any record from that store. You’re worth it, and they surely deserve the business. Since I know the rules, even if I don’t fully agree with them, I will gladly and promptly remove this file from my little corner of the digital world if asked to do so by any individual or entity with due authority to make such a request.)