The American disc jockey is fast going the way of the cowboy: he may be needed in some places, but his frontier is gone. Conquered, even. Was it video that killed the radio stars? More likely some combo of cable radio, the Internet, and commercial broadcasting monopolies. Lay the blame where you will, the job is becoming about as socially crucial as an elevator operator’s, and these days with about the same level of skill.
Nevertheless, some mavericks still ride the range, and like their musical counterparts, the most knowledgeable folks live in the fringes. Which in this town means the mighty WWOZ, 90.7 FM, wherein resides Gentilly Jr., the mysterious blues fanatic who rides into town every Monday night from 7-10 p.m. This January 31st, he celebrates his 18th year on the station with his traditional anniversary show.
Don’t expect a lot of fireworks, though. Not for Gentilly is the friendly banter or the mad boin-K-Doe-boin histrionics of some of many of OZ’s fine deejays; like Clint Eastwood’s DJ in “Play Misty For Me,” he’s a quiet historian—he takes a classicist’s approach to the blues. And just like a cowboy, Eastwood’s man with no name, he don’t say much, and we don’t know much about him. Until now.
He was born Bob Campbell in San Luis Obispo, California, but his family moved here when he was 4, and like a lot of folks, he never looked back. Childhood was fairly standard-issue, musically: “I have a sister who was eight years older than I was, and I got my Monkees records and stuff from her when I was a kid,” he reflects. Having made it all the way to LSU’s business school on a steady diet of Rolling Stones and other rock acts, his destiny was finally sealed by one Jimmy Strickland, the late owner of the legendary Leisure Landing record store. “He was one of the biggest music freaks I ever knew in my whole life,” says Gentilly, still slightly amazed. “I was looking through the stacks, and on one of the little plastic dividers he’d written ‘Muddy Waters’. And next to that, in parentheses, he’d written ‘God’.” Young Bob got blues religion in a big way shortly thereafter, thumbing through his treasured rock records and discovering blues artists through the writer’s credits on the cover songs.
Although Campbell’s ears pricked up at the initial buzz surrounding OZ’s launch in 1980, he remained a passive participant, content to groove to The Duke Of Paducah, Jeff “Almost Slim” Hannusch, and others. Finally the bug bit him too hard, and he was given a show by station co-founder Walter Brock, due mainly to his enormous collection of blues albums. He first went live February 3, 1982, with, naturally, a Muddy Waters cut, “Spoonful.” It quickly became his theme song.
Not long after his second show, he was offered a regular Monday night spot, at that time meaning an hour and a half every third Monday. Broadcasting from the top floor of Tip’s and taping the show the Thursday beforehand, Campbell soon found that he needed anonymity; after a series of crank calls, he picked his Gentilly Jr. alias completely at random, and it stuck. “If I’d known it would make such an impression,” he laughs, “I’d have given it more thought. There’s a lot of people who don’t know me by my real name.”
In 1985 the studio moved to its present location, everything went live, and Gentilly’s spot was upped to three hours, every Monday. “I felt bad,” he recalls. “The jazz guy after me lost his show entirely.” The new format gave him a chance to stretch out, and he took advantage, becoming one of the most eclectic blues DJs in the South. “I try to pick a lot of different things,” he says by way of explanation. “I almost never play anything from the library; it’s all mine. And if you ever saw my music library, you’d understand—it’s not alphabetized. There’s an acoustic section, a female section… I try and mix it up so that I don’t get bored with it. What I tell people is, whether you love it or hate it, it’ll probably be a while before you hear it again.”
Of course, he does quite literally play favorites: “I always try to play at least one Muddy song a week. On April 4th every year, Muddy’s birthday, I have a Mud-In where I play him for 3 hours. It’s a term I got from Jimmy. I also love Elmore James, and early Ike And Tina. But they don’t make it every week.” And the Elder Blues Gods are dominating the scene, always: “I find most new music lacks intensity.”
Some might say the DJ does, as well, but that’s fine with Gentilly. “Some of those guys I used to listen to were more on the radio to hear themselves talk than to play music. I want to play music, and that’s my charter. You might hear ten minutes of me in that three-hour show.” He saves most of his creativity for the playlist—Campbell is well known for his use of segues, positioning songs together in telling ways. You should also know that “most interviews suck. I tend to shy away from them.”
He may not say much on-air, but Jr. (it’s hard to know what to call him) puts more work into his show than most of his ratchetjaw peers. “I take a long time, six to nine hours a week, puttin’ it together,” he says. I take 66 pieces [songs] with me to the studio, about nine or ten more than I’ll need. I write down the first 25 or so, in case I get tied up, or there’s a tech problem.” Is the great Gentilly a vinyl freak? “I was. Nowadays, the playlist is usually one-third vinyl and two-thirds CD. I’ve only had a player for about ten years; I was one of the last holdouts.” What convinced you? “I went into Tower records and they’d taken all the records out. I said, ‘Well, I guess it’s time.’”
Time does roll on, and now that you’re sick to your back teeth of the Millennial hype and the massive looting and rioting (to say nothing of the Apocalypse) hasn’t come to pass, why not celebrate the fact that we’re all still here with a sweet shot of blues? Big Al & The Heavyweights are all over the Margaritaville Café on New Year’s Night with their Son House-meets-Fess brand of boogie. Temptation awaits, however: that same night brings Her Tallness, Marcia Ball, to the House of Blues AND Walter “Wolfman” Washington and his dynamic Roadmasters to the Maple Leaf. (Okay, so Walter and Co. DO come back there on the 8th.)
Mem Shannon gives you a slice of the blues as only a big booming cabbie could call it, declaiming with the Membership at Storyville on the 7th. Red Stick blues legend Raful Neal bids g’day to Vic’s Kangaroo Café on the 22nd, and on the 29th Texas bluesman U.P. Wilson rips it up.
Two brash newcomers and one legendary vet round out the month: Whiz-kid Jonny Lang seduces the House Of Blues on the 15th with Beth Hart opening, and the Killer himself tries to take the stage back from them on the 21st. (TV Note: Big “Al” Carson appears on “The Best Of Louisiana Jukebox” on Jan. 20. Check local listings.)
This issue’s Blues Web Site Of The Month is Vic’s Kangaroo Café (http://www.satchmo.com/vics/), a modest but fun little corner of the web that features a constantly updated schedule of musical events (with appropriate links!) as well as their imported beer list and a menu. Now, that’s how to surf Australia! (Interested in submitting your site or other info? E-mail me at [email protected].)
