by Jim McGuinn, Program Director and Host, Y-Rock on XPN

In 1983 my fellow Reaction Formation band members took a hooky day from Downers Grove North high school to go to Chicago to see Spinal Tap playing at a theatre on a Friday afternoon. For a few of us, it was the second time making the sojourn in less than a week. I can’t remember how we heard about the movie originally in those pre-internet days, but for some reason we were hip to it, way before it crossed over. In fact, I remember being in the theatre with people that thought it was about a real band, albeit a pathetically inept one. The way the jokes made our faces hurt, and each punchline was followed by another, often missed because the audience was laughing at the first joke. Needless to say, the key phrases from the film quickly became part of our lexicon, just as the concept of the movie in short order became our band mantra of what NOT to do and what to avoid at all costs. As with every band who has ever existed since the release of Spinal Tap, all decisions moving forward now needed to be vetted through a “what would Spinal Tap do?” filter. Lost on our way to a club – ‘Hello Cleveland.’ Poor attendance at State U – ‘I wouldn’t worry, ______’s not a big college town,’ and so on… None More Black… I’m like lukewarm water… Saucy Jack… and of course, These Go to 11 – now the name of our YrockOnXPN weekly countdown show. Back in 1983 I knew some of the obvious targets Rob Reiner and the cast were spoofing – heavy metal, dinosaur rockers, in particular dinosaur rockers that went thru different styles and ended up playing turgid metal 15 years past their prime (Status Quo and Deep Purple seemed the closest to fit the story line). But in the ensuing decades, as I’ve learned more about rock and roll and film and culture, I’ve come to appreciate Tap even more. In the fall of 2006 I co-created a Rock and Roll Cinema class at Drexel, and we ended the term with a showing of Spinal Tap, and were able to point to references from nearly all the earlier films we’d screened, whether it was A Hard Day’s Night, Gimme Shelter, Don’t Look Back, or The Last Waltz. Tap truly changed my life, as it has countless others, not to mention perfecting the fake-documentary film style, giving Christopher Guest a career and tv shows like the Office and Arrested Development a example to follow. Not bad for a mostly improvisational film created on a low budget and hurried to release. And I know now that even if my radio career goes kaput (matching my rock career!), I can always sell chapeaus in a haberdashery, depending on the hours.

PS: a Philly footnote. While we don’t have complete documentation to prove it, we have strong reason to believe that the character of record promo rep Bobbi Fleckman is based on legendary Philadelphia promo rep Bobbi Silver. One of the hardest working, smartest, friendliest members of that fraternity, Bobbi chaperoned Michael McKeon (aka David St. Hubbins) around for a few weeks in 1978 while he flogged a Lenny and Squiggy novelty record around, from his first brush with fame as part of the Laverne and Shirley cast. Amazingly, 4 years later, the film’s one female record rep has the name of Bobbi.

Spinal Tap, “Big Bottom,” 1982, talk about mudflaps, my girl’s got ‘em!

Spinal Tap… these go to 11.

Spinal Tap doing “Listen to the Flower People,” (not) 1967