late night radio show host x radio station intern
1976 Los Angeles

He's the Nightfly. Julian Becker once dreamed in jazz and rock 'n roll among the orchards out past Mendocino; now, at the foothills of Hollywood, he's the silky, 400-grit voice across L.A.’s airwaves from midnight to six at WJAZ. Between deep cuts of progressive rock or jazz fusion, Julian fields late-night calls from insomniacs, loners, conspiracists and the heartbreak-prone. Trading quips and confessions with panache, he reads horoscopes off matchbooks, muses on urban legends, tangents gracefully through anecdotes and sometimes lets silence coax the next story. Beneath the suede jackets and the easy grin, the man behind the mic is a softly guarded mystery.

Yet the suits upstairs are closing in, itching to turn WJAZ into another faceless Top 40 jukebox. Julian’s stake in the game is his life's work, the self-portrait he slides into the booth to etch every night. As interns shuffle tapes and tempers flare in the break room, Julian quietly wonders if his late-night elucubrations are living on borrowed time.

i've got plenty of java / and chesterfield kings / but i feel like crying / i wish i had a heart of ice

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After nearly losing its license and facing bankruptcy in '73, radio station WJAZ 97.5 FM was bailed out by a quiet benefactor with a soft spot for independent media. Under more pragmatic management (led by formidable former employee Stevie Callahan on the ground), WJAZ found its identity: an eclectic, fiercely independent oasis on the FM dial. It retains the freeform spirit of the hippie era but tempers it with enough structure to sell ads and keep the lights on.

By 1976, it's a known but precarious entity in Los Angeles - a beloved cult favorite for music nerds and night owls, and a constant, nagging source of frustration for corporate radio conglomerates who see its prime signal as valuable real estate being wasted on "unmarketable" art.