You know that little trick radio disc jockeys use when they’re introducing a song on the air? It’s the ability to talk over the instrumental lead-in, and finish the intro just before the singer sings the first lyric. It was the trademark of all the best DJs on private Top-40 radio stations we listened to back in the 1960s and ’70s.
I learned how to do that – make a live, smooth-as-glass intro end just before the vocalist begins to sing – from a contemporary of mine in broadcasting, friend Dave Fisher. Let me tell you, it’s a lot harder to accomplish than you think. But I learned from Dave, if you prepare your program – I mean really prepare – then you can make broadcasting sound seamless, professional and natural.
Dave Fisher and I worked on air together in Lindsay, at AM radio station CKLY Radio 910, in the summer of 1969. Fisher and I came from completely different backgrounds in radio. That year, I was halfway through my broadcast training at Ryerson and looking for a summer job on air to gain experience and to earn some tuition. Dave, on the other hand, had just finished high school. He wasn’t interested in studying radio. He just wanted to do it!
That summer I lucked out, landing a DJ job at CKLY hosting the summer all-night show. That meant I picked the music, introduced and spun the vinyl discs, ripped teletype copy and read the news at the top of each hour, and delivered all the commercials live too. In other words, I never left the control room from midnight to 6 a.m.
At the time, Fisher, who was a pal of my sister’s, asked if there were any positions available at CKLY that summer he might apply for. I asked the station manager if he’d give Dave a chance to read the news each hour, so that I could catch my breath (and get a bathroom break). The manager said OK. That’s when and where I discovered the Dave Fisher school of broadcasting. “If you get a break, make the most of it,” was his motto.
Every night that summer, Dave gathered the teletype news material. He retyped it, edited it for time and pacing, and rehearsed it to death. Then, he did it all over again the next hour. It was no surprise later that year, when Fisher landed a full-time job – the evening rock DJ at CKLY.
In those years, a working DJ had to have thick skin and a suitcase always at the ready. Dave bounced from stations around Ontario to several out West developing his on-air chops, climbing the ladder to bigger city stations and scoring great ratings all along the way.
In 1984, he landed in Montreal. He was ready for prime-time radio and it was ready for him. For 32 years he devoured just about every shift the station threw at him. When he landed comfortably on weekend mornings with his show “Dave’s World,” early risers in Montreal began hearing some of the best talk radio programming in the country.
Whether it was politics, science, showbiz, gardening, history or trivia, Dave studied, prepared and was conversant in all of it. I was lucky to be on the receiving end of all that preparation. He interviewed me easily a dozen times on a dozen different books I’d written. In preparation, he read every page and I had to be on my toes for his articulate and challenging questions. He was the best! He retired in 2016.
My fellow broadcaster and friend Dave Fisher died last Wednesday. He was 71 years young and barely into his well-earned retirement. He was – as everybody’s been saying this week, not aconsummate broadcaster, but the consummate broadcaster.
I think I heard Dave stumped only once on-air. One night, early in his CKLY DJ career, our family (pranksters all) called in and asked Dave to play a recording by “the famous” Jonathan and Darlene Edwards. In fact, the performers on the disc were big band stars – pianist Paul Weston and singer Jo Stafford – playing and singing purposely off key because it was a comedy album.
On our recommendation, Dave played a cut from the disc. He hadn’t time to preview it. It sounded terrible because it was supposed to sound terrible. I think it was the only unprepared on-air moment in Dave Fisher’s long and storied career. When the song was over, with his distinctive on-air laugh, Dave commented, “Live and learn.”
Dave Fisher learned broadcasting like no other. He lived broadcasting like no other. And if it can be said of anyone, he mastered broadcasting like no other. We’ll miss you, my friend.
