Back in the early 1980s I’d been covering Marshall Crenshaw on a consistent basis and I heard he was gonna be on a hew talk show called Late Night With David Letterman. So I taped it on my VHS and while I got pissed because the elevator races ate into time Dave could have spent talking to Marshall, I still forgave him because… well, because he was very funny.
As the years went by I saw Late Night and later Later in person essentially whenever I felt like it because of my work in advertising.
But back to the show. So I watched Late Night for about three months and got addicted and called up Creem and asked em if I could interview Dave for them. They said sure, but I had to set it up myself. So I called Letterman’s office and they told me to call his manager Jack Rollins and so I did. Jack, he was exceptionally obnoxious over the phone, told me to drop off some stuff I’d written.
I did and then I waited a week, called back and this time I just got a secretary who said it was OK with Jack if it was OK with Dave. So I called back Dave and got an assistant who put me on hold for 45 minutes before advising me that Dave was not interested. “How about Paul?” I asked and the phone went click.
Quite simply the worst mannered and most humorless bunch of pricks I’ve ever dealt with. And while I was a huge fan then and while I am not a huge fan now, I certainly still admire the man but as he heads into retirement please let me advise Mr. Letterman to go fuck himself. Click.
There is just a lot to love
the sound seemed to erupt from every side of the room
still on top
“danceable music for the end of days”
contracts its world in Nashisms
let’s take what we are offered
It’s the music, stupid
a restless and fearless freak show