Tami Heide

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Lisa Kwon on the ‘90s disc jockeys of LA's KROQ-FM.

There are no great interviewers anymore. This is partly due to the culture of press cycles, a narrow yet bloated window of time where artists spin some yarn about their creative output, but not without caveats like asking for the questions beforehand or approving the profile before it goes live.

Interviewers are afraid to be unrehearsed now, too. It’s hard to watch a single Hot Ones episode without noticing Sean Evans’ brain whirring like a computer. While shouldering the expectations to have weekly viral episodes over a wing-guzzling shtick, the once-curious celebrity interviewer now sticks to an optimized, bloodless script that provokes his interviewees into a reaction that is pregnant with clicks, comments, and shares. Rarely do clips become popular because of his guest’s answers. They go viral because Sean is prepared to make them laugh, sputter, and sweat, and then these clips are tossed.

This is twisted in a way that even ‘90s radio personalities—unafraid to say the wrong things or get in trouble—would be reluctant towards. Hungover from the stunts and public displays of melodrama ushered in by Howard Stern’s era of shock jocks, Los Angeles’ rock DJs at the turn of the decade were seeking some return to form. At its worst, it was way too hetero. A young Chris Hardwick got his local break at 106.7 KROQ, where he market-tested a cool, dry humor before slowly conjuring up his Nerdist movement. Jed the Fish was at his prime in the ‘90s, pranking his coworkers on air and being the perverted dude promoting the radio’s yearly calendars. But among the detritus of disc jockeys who couldn’t go a morning without a dick joke, I received the clarion call from KROQ’s Tami Heide to see interviewing as a serious craft. 

Tami was best known for her ability to riff with the major personalities of her time: Smashing Pumpkins, Stone Temple Pilots, and Blink-182, to name a few. The way I see it, her best interview was conducted for KROQ’s Loveline with Dr. Drew, after her coworker Riki Rachtman dropped out on just a few hours’ notice. I was a baby when the original episode aired on February 24, 1994, cradled to the rollicking headlines of Rodney King, gang sweeps, and toxic waste.

Listening today, I hear the rot of the ‘90s as Tami interviews a certain bratty punk trio from Oakland, California. The episode premiered at a time when Los Angeles was tallying over 600 murders a year underneath blush pink, smog-choked sunsets. The band just signed to a major label and were off to a ravenous press with minimal media training to promote their debut full-length album. Jaded by the political climate yet poised for mainstream success, they were eager to talk about punk, sex, weed—all the things that made growing pains in a Republican California a little less uncomfortable.

ICYMI