Ronn.W
Second Unit
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2002
- Messages
- 333
Howard's End
Stern's show puts the "um" in "tedium"
Like most people who aren't from New York, I have always found it hard to pry my eyes open while Howard Stern is talking. In theory, I approve of the whole offensive/obscene/outrageous shock-radio shtick, but the only thing that's ever offended me about his show is how slow it is -- the guy sure does like to take his time between punch lines. When he was the king of terrestrial radio, he was more fun to catch on E!, with the hours of chitchat boiled down to a half-hour's worth of dick/fart/stripper jokes. Everybody assumed that he'd go wild on Sirius, since now he could swear all he wanted with no FCC or corporate suits butting in. Yet after just a couple of weeks on the air, his show already puts the "um" in "tedium." He sounds like he no longer has to deal with anybody who doesn't kiss his ass, and as a result he sounds like a bored, gloomy fifty-two-year-old man. How did this happen?
The bright spot of the show's opening week was Star Trek's George Takei, hired as the new announcer, sharing his gay-Hollywood memories with a constant "oh my" giggle. But he was live in the studio for just one week -- maybe not the shrewdest move, since he was the best new idea the Stern crew came up with in their holiday vacation. Howard spends most of the mornings talking about how famous he is, how loyal his listeners are, how many millions of people are running out to buy Sirius radios, while his studio monkey-boys crowd around the mike to say, "Right on, Howard. You still the king." Fans call in to remind him he's still got it. Howard shares fun facts about his personal life (he wears gloves to industry functions because he's nervous about shaking hands; he's had a nose job and liposuction under his chin). He tries to play Allman Brothers songs on guitar (they're too hard) and has phone sex with Jessica Hahn (he doesn't enjoy it). He talks a lot about how bad his New York replacement, David Lee Roth, is. If you thought his sidekicks were useless suck-ups before, get a load of them now. Robin compares him to Martin Luther King Jr. Artie says the main reason he wishes his father were still alive is so he could hear him on The Howard Stern Show. "We're making history," he gushes. And this was the first seven days. By next month, Howard will only be able to keep himself awake ordering the staff to do tag-team ass-to-ass action.
No wonder he's bored -- he's got nobody to piss him off anymore. He's on his own network, with two whole stations mainly devoted to "Howard 100 News," including post-show recaps and a "Superfans Round Table." His new bosses have even cleared the way for him to sell off $200 million worth of shares in Sirius stock. But he's already dreaming of the next gig, musing that he should form a supergroup with Bubba the Love Sponge, Rush Limbaugh and other talk-radio giants. "You know, a supergroup," he explained to Robin. "Like Blind Faith -- they were a really great supergroup." But on the first day he was already back to railing against the FCC and corporate censors -- nostalgic for the good old days when he had enemies, reminiscing about how badass he used to be.
Roth's show is more interesting just because it's so skin-crawlingly awful. In these days of bland Clear Channel/Infinity corporate radio, it's bracing to hear a guy who has no idea what he's doing. He can't remember too many of the wild sex and drug stories from his Van Halen days, so instead he talks about being an EMT (he's delivered babies: "I'm on my fourth," he says) and interviews his eighty-eight-year-old Uncle Manny, who used to book Bob Dylan. It's the voice of an archetypal American loser, refusing to admit his eat-'em-and-smile days are over. Listening to Roth, you feel actual physical pain. I bet Howard must be jealous.
ROB SHEFFIELD
http://www.rollingstone.com/news/sto...ion=6.0.11.847
Stern's show puts the "um" in "tedium"
Like most people who aren't from New York, I have always found it hard to pry my eyes open while Howard Stern is talking. In theory, I approve of the whole offensive/obscene/outrageous shock-radio shtick, but the only thing that's ever offended me about his show is how slow it is -- the guy sure does like to take his time between punch lines. When he was the king of terrestrial radio, he was more fun to catch on E!, with the hours of chitchat boiled down to a half-hour's worth of dick/fart/stripper jokes. Everybody assumed that he'd go wild on Sirius, since now he could swear all he wanted with no FCC or corporate suits butting in. Yet after just a couple of weeks on the air, his show already puts the "um" in "tedium." He sounds like he no longer has to deal with anybody who doesn't kiss his ass, and as a result he sounds like a bored, gloomy fifty-two-year-old man. How did this happen?
The bright spot of the show's opening week was Star Trek's George Takei, hired as the new announcer, sharing his gay-Hollywood memories with a constant "oh my" giggle. But he was live in the studio for just one week -- maybe not the shrewdest move, since he was the best new idea the Stern crew came up with in their holiday vacation. Howard spends most of the mornings talking about how famous he is, how loyal his listeners are, how many millions of people are running out to buy Sirius radios, while his studio monkey-boys crowd around the mike to say, "Right on, Howard. You still the king." Fans call in to remind him he's still got it. Howard shares fun facts about his personal life (he wears gloves to industry functions because he's nervous about shaking hands; he's had a nose job and liposuction under his chin). He tries to play Allman Brothers songs on guitar (they're too hard) and has phone sex with Jessica Hahn (he doesn't enjoy it). He talks a lot about how bad his New York replacement, David Lee Roth, is. If you thought his sidekicks were useless suck-ups before, get a load of them now. Robin compares him to Martin Luther King Jr. Artie says the main reason he wishes his father were still alive is so he could hear him on The Howard Stern Show. "We're making history," he gushes. And this was the first seven days. By next month, Howard will only be able to keep himself awake ordering the staff to do tag-team ass-to-ass action.
No wonder he's bored -- he's got nobody to piss him off anymore. He's on his own network, with two whole stations mainly devoted to "Howard 100 News," including post-show recaps and a "Superfans Round Table." His new bosses have even cleared the way for him to sell off $200 million worth of shares in Sirius stock. But he's already dreaming of the next gig, musing that he should form a supergroup with Bubba the Love Sponge, Rush Limbaugh and other talk-radio giants. "You know, a supergroup," he explained to Robin. "Like Blind Faith -- they were a really great supergroup." But on the first day he was already back to railing against the FCC and corporate censors -- nostalgic for the good old days when he had enemies, reminiscing about how badass he used to be.
Roth's show is more interesting just because it's so skin-crawlingly awful. In these days of bland Clear Channel/Infinity corporate radio, it's bracing to hear a guy who has no idea what he's doing. He can't remember too many of the wild sex and drug stories from his Van Halen days, so instead he talks about being an EMT (he's delivered babies: "I'm on my fourth," he says) and interviews his eighty-eight-year-old Uncle Manny, who used to book Bob Dylan. It's the voice of an archetypal American loser, refusing to admit his eat-'em-and-smile days are over. Listening to Roth, you feel actual physical pain. I bet Howard must be jealous.
ROB SHEFFIELD
http://www.rollingstone.com/news/sto...ion=6.0.11.847
