VJ: The Unplugged Adventures of MTV's First Wave

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VJ: The Unplugged Adventures of MTV's First Wave Page 10

by Nina Blackwood


  10. David Bowie, Station to Station

  Alan:

  I couldn’t tell exactly how old J. J. was, but he did seem to be nervous about his age. When we launched, just about everybody working at the channel was thirty or under, including Bob Pittman, who was twenty-seven at the time. And here’s J. J., who had to be around forty-five. He was playing a young man’s game, and he seemed nervous about that at times.

  Mark:

  I met J. J.’s mom years later. She confided that he was older than he said. Tell me something I don’t know.

  According to an MTV obituary, J. J. was born on April 8, 1941, making him forty years old when the channel launched.

  Alan:

  The entire time we were at MTV, it seemed like J. J. was an older guy stuck at the same age. He never aged, never got younger. His bald spot was always there, but for a long time, we didn’t realize he was painting it over with a jet-black spray. I would get undressed in front of anybody and put on makeup wherever. But J. J. would go off in his own little world and come out all prepared. Secretly, he was very vain.

  Nina:

  J. J. went to all these underground clubs—rock, dance, after-hours—he was the one doing what people thought all five of us did. We called him Club Man.

  Mark:

  He would roll into the studio from the clubs to do a show, looking all puffy. He put Preparation H under his eyes to bring down the swelling.

  Nina:

  He said he learned that trick from a soap opera actress.

  Mark:

  The MTV studios were just around the corner from Plato’s Retreat, the famous swingers’ club. I never went there, but J. J. visited the Hellfire Club, another sex club. He’d been there a few times, and he told me crazy stories about the shit he would see there: group sex, girl-on-girl-on-guy, everything. The way he described it, it sounded like a Fellini movie. People would be having sex in these little alcoves with veils over them, like an exhibit. J. J. wasn’t a particularly religious guy, but he said it made him feel like God was going to strike this city down.

  Alan:

  On the air, J. J. was inconsistent. Some days, he’d be nervous and sweaty; we’d watch the monitor and know that he was still fucked up from the night before. And then there were days when he was spirited and eloquent. When J. J. was popping, he literally would say, “Bingada-bada.”

  Everyone tolerated a lot more from him—he had earned the right to be a bit of a diva. He was the elder statesman, the most concerned about all of us. If Nina was emotional or having a tough time, I might feel uncomfortable giving her a hug, but J. J. would be in her dressing room and she was in his arms. So we gave him a lot of latitude.

  Nina:

  J. J. radiated a lot of love. Like me, he was an only child—which is kind of funny, because we represented the two extremes of that. I’m happy being alone, and when push comes to shove, I’ll just hang out with my animals. But J. J. was the opposite—he was extremely outgoing and made everybody into his family. When he was talking to you, you felt like he was only thinking of you. And he treated everyone the same, whether it was the bell cap at the hotel or the head of the hotel corporation.

  Martha:

  J. J. and my dad got along great, maybe because they had both been in the military. And J. J. was amazing in those situations—when he met somebody’s dad, there was no rock ’n’ roll funny business. “Hello, sir, how are you doing? It’s great to talk to you.” He acted like the quarterback of a football team, and showed respect.

  Alan:

  Sometimes the other VJs would go out to a show, and invariably J. J. would already be backstage in the VIP area. He’d come out: “Hey, Al, come on back.” He’d already swung the deal.

  Martha:

  I couldn’t get into any clubs, I couldn’t get backstage, I couldn’t get good tables at restaurants, I couldn’t get behind a single velvet rope. But doors would fly open for J. J.

  Alan:

  J. J. was tight with lots of people. If you wanted to go to a restaurant, he knew the maître d’. He was practically the pope of New York City.

  Mark:

  J. J. had pockets of people that he knew. All of us MTV folks were one pocket, and then another pocket would be these bikers that he was friendly with. There was one morning when some Hells Angels saw him in the Village, waiting for a car so he could get to work, and one of them gave him a ride to the studio on the back of his motorcycle. J. J. also hung around with some Mafia dudes—he was able to have his birthday party on a weekend night at the Palladium because he knew some people who knew some people. He told me Mick Jagger couldn’t get the Palladium on a weekend night! He loved that. J. J. wasn’t a thug himself; he just had the amazing ability to be a part of whatever group he was with. He could talk music and he could talk literature—he was especially into Chinese art and literature.

  Most of the people J. J. hung with were white, and he was into rock ’n’ roll and that’s mostly white. But it wasn’t like he was trying to pass as white. He just had a benign, cuddly vibe.

  Martha:

  One time, talking with J. J., I used the expression “It’s the pot calling the kettle black,” and he stopped me cold. “Don’t say that, MCQ.” (Most of the VJs called me Quinski, but J. J. liked to call me MCQ.) I asked him why—I thought the saying was just because cast-iron pots and kettles are black. He said, “No, no, it’s assigning the color black a negative connotation.”

  Mark:

  J. J. was very in touch with being black. It wasn’t the main way he identified himself, but he had a smooth-black-guy vibe that the women loved. And he was good with that.

  Nina:

  J. J.’s most famous line ever on the air was the time he said, “This is brown Jackson here with news of Jackson Browne.”

  Excerpts of J. J. Jackson, in an iridescent blue double-breasted shirt, giving the music news on September 9, 1982:

  “Former Eagle Don Henley with ‘Johnny Can’t Read,’ preceded by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts with ‘Crimson and Clover.’ My name is J. J. Jackson, you can call me Triple J. I got the music news for you here on MTV. Brimstone and Treacle —it’s the film starring Sting of the Police—shared the Grand Prize at the World Film Festival in Montreal last month. Unfortunately, Sting was not capable of attending the awards ceremony, not because he didn’t want to—when we talked to him out at the US Festival he reiterated that he was quite proud to receive that honor. He’s a fine actor. If you ever get a chance to see him in Quadrophenia, do that as well, because he does a really fine job.

  “Brian Eno, who has produced Talking Heads and Devo and was one of the founding members of Roxy Music, well, he has made a unique video documenting twenty-four hours of the New York City skyline, Mistaken Memories of Medieval Manhattan. Love that. What’s really unusual about the piece, though, is that you must turn your television set on its side. Can you imagine if you’ve got a big combination set? ‘Okay, Dad, let’s get it over.’ No way. Anyway, he’s off the wall, has been for some time, but he does some very creative stuff.

  “Got concert information for you right now: Fleetwood Mac is on the road. Get ready for a Mac Attack—Stevie Nicks is just incredible this particular tour. Christine McVie, all of them, the band is so tight. Next hour, get concert information on Alex Lifeson, Neil Peart, and Geddy Lee—Rush! A little later, we’re going to check out Squeeze, with ‘Black Coffee in Bed.’ ”

  Martha:

  I don’t blame J. J. at all for feeling confined at MTV. He went from launching Led Zeppelin to reading teleprompter copy about Corey Hart. J. J. on MTV was like Jimi Hendrix opening up for the Monkees.

  Mark:

  I sat in the control room, watching his technique when he had to interview a performer he had never met. The artist sat down, and J. J. said, “Okay, so here’s where I’m at. I started at BCN in 1968, and then I worked at K-West in L.A. and then I did ABC News. . . .” He gave them his little bio so they would sit back and say, “Oh, okay, I’m talking
to the right person.”

  I thought it was funny, but I also thought it was a really smart thing to do. I didn’t think I would ever be able to pull that off—if I tried, I’d sound like a dick. But with J. J., it was perfect. He just had a commanding air.

  Alan:

  J. J. interviewed Public Image Ltd: Keith Levene and John Lydon, who had been Johnny Rotten in the Sex Pistols. They were so snotty and renegade, and smoking the whole time, and J. J. was just being cool. J. J. adopted a light British accent in that interview—he was sort of a chameleon, and every time he talked to an Englishman, he had a British lilt. J. J. didn’t let them off the hook at all, and Johnny just smirked whenever J. J. would swat him.

  The interview, conducted on September 16, 1982, was to promote an album (Commercial Zone) that never officially came out.

  JOHN LYDON: “It’s very hard to get away from disco. It’s not so bad, I quite like it. I like turning the radio on and hearing nonstop disco.”

  J. J. JACKSON: “It’s just a rhythm section, though, isn’t it?”

  JOHN LYDON: “Yeah.”

  J. J. JACKSON: “How much of that can you hear before—”

  JOHN LYDON: “Quite a lot.”

  Martha:

  Those guys came in the studio and were having a friendly chat with J. J.—then as soon as the actual interview started, they started with the snotty we-don’t-like-to-answer-questions thing. I don’t think they’d ever been interviewed by a marine before: J. J. stopped the spoiled-kid routine cold.

  Alan:

  J. J. and I would crack each other up. He loved doing funny Johnny Carson voices and old bits from Sanford and Son and Amos ’n’ Andy. His laugh was contagious. He’d have tears streaming down his face, and he’d goad me into getting even sillier.

  Mark:

  He did Jackie Gleason voices too. I don’t think too many MTV viewers got that reference.

  Nina:

  Early on, we were pushing MTV merchandise on the air; we had these little MTV pins for sale. J. J. was talking about the pin and trying to put it on his clothes, and it snapped in two. He went into his British accent and said, “Bloody hell, the thing broke.”

  J. J. Jackson, on December 12, 1983, in a proto-Cosby sweater, back-announcing a video where Loverboy ran through the desert in Mad Max clothing: “Loverboy, Paul Dean and the band, ‘Queen of the Broken Hearts.’ I love some of the ladies in that video.”

  Nina:

  J. J. was a ladies’ man. He would always have hugs for girls, a kiss right on the lips. But it wasn’t lascivious, it was just J. J. I ran into a female DJ that he had worked with, and she told me her nickname for him was Pillow Lips, because his lips were so soft.

  Mark:

  J. J. dated a lot of women. He dated the receptionist at the studio for a while. But there was a warmth to his casualness—it seemed like it was all very easy and comfortable. Whenever we went out, he never had a date—he would meet people at the clubs.

  Martha:

  Sometimes J. J. would come to work and complain, “People are leaning out of cars, calling my name. I don’t get it—everybody’s trying to talk to me. I can’t even take the subway anymore. It’s like I’m Elvis, I can’t go anywhere.”

  Meanwhile, J. J. would go out wearing giant aviator sunglasses, a full-length rabbit-fur coat, and red cowboy boots, with a three-hundred-pound Akita on a leash. You could not miss this guy—from a million miles away, you could tell he was somebody. He just exuded moxie.

  Mark:

  J. J. told me that on the inside, he felt like Super Fly. For a year or so, he was wearing a floor-length fur coat—it was a full-on pimp coat. One day, I came into the studio and J. J. was upset—it turned out it was because a fan had written to him. She told him that he was her favorite VJ because he reminded her of Fozzie Bear. He laughed about it, but it was a reality check.

  13

  Hot in the City

  New York City Serenade

  Alan:

  MTV was very much based in the New York scene. The record business was there, and Madison Avenue, and visual artists like Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat.

  Martha:

  I loved New York City. I could never understand why anyone would live in Minneapolis or Atlanta or anywhere else, when New York existed. When I walked down the street, I felt like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Writing 10003 as my zip code gave me a thrill every single time.

  Mark:

  When I was sixteen, I got my driver’s license. Three weeks later, I drove up the New Jersey Turnpike to New York. I can’t believe my parents let me do it—that’s insane.

  Nina:

  When I first came to New York, I felt very L.A., and I had a lot of West Coast pride. I was blond, I loved going to Topanga Beach, and I worked barefoot all the time.

  Mark:

  I used to call Nina “Hollywood” on the air, because she was so L.A.

  Nina:

  My acting teacher Marc Marno was from New York, and he worried about me moving to the city. He told me, “You have to be careful, because it could break you. You’re fragile and it’s a really tough city.”

  I could not believe the volume of the ambient noise in New York. Even in the dead of night, the city had a certain hum. After a while, I got used to it. Some nights, I’d sit in a restaurant with a pad of paper, drinking Courvoisier and writing poetry. My poems had turned dark, focused on broken spirits and shards of iron and steel—stuff like “and the broken glass that glitters, which pierces the soul of humanity.”

  Alan:

  My favorite thing to do in New York was to sit in a coffee shop on a rainy day with a copy of the Times, and people-watch. It made me happy and lonely at the same time.

  Nina:

  I ended up loving the darkness of New York City. It was a great experience, because it didn’t break me—it made me stronger. Because I didn’t know anybody, almost every Sunday I would go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I would wander through the whole building, looking at everything, but I gravitated toward the Impressionists. I felt surrounded by the spirits of these artists.

  Mark:

  One of the first clubs that I went to in New York was Danceteria. I would dance, but sometimes I would go there just to hang out and listen to the DJ. One night, there was a girl walking through the place, and her only item of clothing was a belt. I asked her, “Aren’t you uncomfortable like that?”

  She said, “I have no negative emotions.”

  Alan:

  I loved clubbing, but I wasn’t a hound for it the way J. J. and Mark were. After a rock show, we’d sometimes go to the all-night clubs, on J. J.’s recommendation. In fact, any club, if they didn’t recognize me, I’d throw J. J.’s name around—whoosh! I’d get right in. The Limelight, on Twentieth Street, was my favorite—it was a former cathedral, massively cool and ornate, and it had the best ambience around.

  Martha:

  The Limelight was pretty far north for me. I was one of those Village girls who rarely ventured above Fourteenth Street. With the exception of my summer sublet on the Upper East Side, my entire time in New York was five minutes from my college dorm. I never got a summer place on Fire Island or any other out-of-town vacation spot: I had a deck, and that was all the outside space I needed.

  Nina:

  MTV put me up at the Berkshire Hotel for a month. Since I had moved to New York with just a trunk of clothes, I figured it was a good idea to find a furnished apartment. It was eye-opening to discover how expensive it was to have such little space.

  Eventually, I found an L-shaped studio on Fifty-sixth Street. It was a cute little gem: The walls were painted forest green, the sofa was upholstered in green and red plaid, and there was white lacquered furniture. It also came with an indoor tree. I lived there for most of my time in New York City. When I think of that apartment, I think of getting ready to go out. I’d play Joe Jackson’s “Steppin’ Out” and put on my perfume oils, which made me smell like the flowers I’d always
check out when I passed by florists.

  Alan:

  I went to two or three live shows a week: Madison Square Garden, the Roxy, the Palladium, or my favorite, the Beacon Theater. Sometimes I would sneak off to a jazz show at the Blue Note or the Village Vanguard—I didn’t really talk about that at work. At MTV, I was a closeted jazz fan.

  Nina:

  Danny came to visit me, to check that I was doing okay. It was during a garbage strike, which made the streets of New York stink like you wouldn’t believe—as if he didn’t hate the city enough already. I tried to convince him that the smell was soulful, but he wasn’t having it.

 

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