Brilliance In Bumps And Bruises, On Air And On Screen
A new documentary about WFMU, the scrappy, chaotic and iconoclastic radio station in New Jersey, debuts today at the DOC NYC film festival. Sex and Broadcasting is described by the filmmakers as "an American tale of life, liberty and independent radio." In an opening scene, station manager Ken Freedman is on the air and delivers what amounts to a manifesto.
"WFMU is a heathen religion," Freedman intones over a swelling backing track, "tied up with toy pianos and distorted guitars and ritualistic bagpipe orgies of erotic dancing, weed smoking and mass mania with the beat pounding away in the background, always the beat. WFMU is radio for people who were picked last on the basketball team, for that one person who didn't go to the senior prom, for the misfits and malcontents, the slackers, hobos and dreamers."
Freedman says this description is essentially accurate.
"It's a station that falls in between the cracks of any other kind of category," he tells NPR's Scott Simon. "And it's inside those cracks where we find all the weird stuff that we play on the air, too."
On any given day, a WFMU listener might find him or herself listening to heavy breathing, or three hours of cover versions of The Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby" — though Freedman says that one was "hard to take."
"It seriously made me regret the day that I played three hours of versions of 'Bohemian Rhapsody,'" he adds.
WFMU is a public radio station, but its programming is a little different from, say, NPR programs like All Things Considered. The station, film director Tim K. Smith explains, started as the college radio station for Upsala College. When the college went bankrupt, DJs worked together, led by Freedman, to gain the station's independence.
"It's been independent ever since," Smith says. "But it also is extremely vulnerable. It has no larger institution that can kind of take the hits when things go bad. In that sense, it's a great story of, you know, an American story in the sense of just people who really value freedom over really anything else. And what it takes to do that, over a lifetime."
For Freedman, freedom also means challenging the listener, sometimes to the breaking point.
"We pride ourselves in that fact that it's a radio station that requires to be turned off six or seven times a day," Freedman says. "That's what makes it so great. That's what allows us the freedom to hear things that you could never possibly hear anywhere else on the airwaves. We don't want to sand down all the extremes, which seems to be the way to go for almost any other kind of radio out there. That's where we find the brilliance, is in the extremes, in the bumps and in bruises."
Doing this kind of radio, however, has its risks. While WFMU has recently expanded, opening a venue on the ground floor of its building, Freedman says that the threat of insolvency is an annual tradition. While he's grateful for the film's existence, he doesn't know whether it marks a turning point for WFMU.
"Right now, we have $70,000 in the bank — my bookkeeper emailed me this morning to tell me that — which is about enough for another two payrolls," Freedman says. "So when I went to work today, my job this morning before I came in today was looking under every rock that I could find, to look for additional money to get us through the next four or five months before we do our regular pledge drive."
Still, Freedman says he has no interest in success, insofar as it means losing sight of the station's mission: "If we had a lot of people listening it would mean we had sanded down our philosophy and that we had really gone towards mass appeal. That's never been our goal."
Smith, on the other hand, thinks that WFMU already appeals to more people than Freedman is willing to say.
"WFMU is the kind of radio station where, you know, you walk into a record store in Berlin and suddenly there it is," Smith says. "Someone's streaming this radio station because they know how amazing it is. So in the small pockets around the world — they're small pockets but there's an amazing amount of people that are gonna want to be excited that they've discovered this station for the first time."
Hear the full conversation at the audio link.
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Transcript
SCOTT SIMON, HOST:
A new documentary about a scrappy, chaotic and iconoclastic radio station in New Jersey debuts today at the DOC NYC Festival, "Sex And Broadcasting." It's a film about WFMU described by the filmmakers as an American tale of life, liberty and independent radio. In an opening scene Ken Freedman, the station manager, is on the air and delivers what amounts to a manifesto.
(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "SEX AND BROADCASTING")
KEN FREEDMAN: WFMU is a heathen religion tied up with toy pianos and distorted guitars and ritualistic bagpipe orgies of erotic dancing, weed smoking and mass mania, with the beat pounding away in the background - always the beat. WFMU is radio for the people who were picked last on the basketball team, for that one person who didn't go to the senior prom, for the misfits and malcontents, the slackers, hobos and dreamers.
SIMON: And Ken Freedman, the station manager of WFMU, joins us from New York. Thanks very much for being with us.
FREEDMAN: Thank you, Scott.
SIMON: And Tim K. Smith, who is the director of "Sex And Broadcasting."
Mr. Smith, thank you for being with us.
TIM K. SMITH: Thank you.
SIMON: Ken Freedman, is that really what you think of your listeners?
FREEDMAN: Yeah, pretty much to a T. It's a station that falls in between the cracks of any other kind of category and its inside those cracks where we find all the weird stuff that we play on the air, too.
SIMON: Yeah. What would we hear of a given day on WFMU?
FREEDMAN: Well, this morning the guy who was on the air played three hours of cover versions of "Eleanor Rigby." That was kind of hard to take.
SIMON: Kind of?
FREEDMAN: It seriously made me regret the day that I played three hours of versions of "Bohemian Rhapsody."
SIMON: (Laughter). Yeah. All right. Go ahead. Yes, please?
FREEDMAN: Yesterday I played heavy breathing and graveyard sound effects and goblin laughter and Italian horror movies soundtracks and that kind of thing.
(SOUNDBITE OF WFMU RADIO BROADCAST)
FREEDMAN: My name's Ken. I'm having a really terrible morning here. In the background we're hearing actual recordings made last Wednesday in the middle of my colonoscopy.
SIMON: Now Mr. Smith, let's make it plain - to the relief of both NPR executives and the people who run WFMU - WFMU is public radio but it's not NPR, is it?
SMITH: No. You know, it started as a college radio station and eventually when that - Upsala College - went bankrupt, the DJs banded together, - really led by Ken Freedman - and gained its independence and it's been independent ever since, but it also is extremely vulnerable. It has no larger institution that can kind of take the hits when things go bad. You know, in that sense it's a great story of - you know, an American story in the sense of just people that really value freedom over really anything else and what it takes to do that, over a lifetime.
SIMON: But let me turn a question to you, Ken Freedman, if I can. Freedom, yes - but does WFMU value freedom over listen-ability?
FREEDMAN: Yes, absolutely.
SIMON: (Laughter).
FREEDMAN: We pride ourselves in the fact that it's a radio station that requires to be turned off six or seven times a day.
SIMON: (Laughter). Because that freshens your perspective, or...
FREEDMAN: Well, that's what makes it so great, that's what allows us the freedom to hear things that you could never possibly hear anywhere else on the airwaves. We don't want to sand down all the extremes, which seems to be the way to go for almost any other kind of radio out there. That's where we find the brilliance, is in the extremes, in the bumps and in the bruises.
(SOUNDBITE OF WFMU RADIO BROADCAST)
UNIDENTIFIED MAN #1: What's the next song on the set list, Petey?
UNIDENTIFIED MAN #2: It's called "Chommy Mommy" and it's got Noam Chomsky being(PH) my mother.
FREEDMAN: I think that it's very important to think about the radio audience. We don't want to be doing radio for one person. We like to be doing radio for several-dozen people.
SIMON: (Laughter). But even you've had to expand and now you've got a performance venue, don't you?
FREEDMAN: Yeah. We just opened up our own club and venue in the ground floor of our building.
SIMON: Is constant insolvency part of the creative process?
FREEDMAN: It's definitely part of the annual pattern at WFMU. I don't know to what degree it's part of the creative process. I mean, our insolvency has forced us to take great creative measures from time to time, but I do kind of long for the annual rite of insolvency to disappear once and for all.
(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "SEX AND BROADCASTING")
FREEDMAN: I would say that FMU is a democracy up to a point, but like any functioning system there has to be a bit of fascism as well and there is.
SIMON: There's some spots in the film, I imagine, if you're you and you watch it where people refer to you, the station manager, being referred to as a dictator. How do you feel about that?
FREEDMAN: I wear it as a badge of honor.
SIMON: In the sense that what, somebody's got to make the station sign on and sign off and night, or...
FREEDMAN: Yeah. I like to think of myself as a benevolent dictator, but I think that group dynamics and committee decision-making are some of the things that have destroyed various leftist anarchistic institutions and I'm glad that WFMU hasn't fallen prey to that.
SIMON: Ken Freedman, does this film mean that WFMU has, in a sense, arrived?
FREEDMAN: Oh, no, not in any way. I mean I'm happy that the movie has come out, but I don't think it really marks any kind of turning point or arrival for us.
SIMON: Yeah and can you help us understand what your financial situation is at the moment now?
FREEDMAN: Well, right now we have $70,000 in the bank. My bookkeeper emailed me this morning to tell me that, which is about enough for another two payrolls - and that's about par for the course for this time of the year - so when I went to work today, my job this morning before I came in today was looking under every rock that I could find to look for additional money to get us through the next four or five months before we do our regular pledge drive.
SIMON: And I want to address this question to you both at the end, if I could. Would success - at least defined as lots of people listening - somehow ruin WFMU?
FREEDMAN: Well, it would because if we had a lot of people listening, it would mean that we had sanded down our philosophy and that we had really gone towards mass appeal so that's never been our goal.
SIMON: Tim Smith?
SMITH: Yeah, I mean I won't disagree with Ken, but I would say FMU's the kind of radio station where, you know, you walk into a record store in Berlin and suddenly there it is - someone's streaming this radio station because they know how amazing it is. So in the small pockets around the world, you know, they're small pockets but there's an amazing amount of people that are going to want to be excited that they've discovered this station for the first time.
SIMON: Tim K. Smith is director of "Sex And Broadcasting." Ken Freedman is the station manager of WFMU in Jersey City, New Jersey. The film debuts later today at DOC NYC.
Gentlemen, thanks very much for being with us.
FREEDMAN: Thank you, Scott.
SMITH: Thank you, Scott. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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