Liz Wilde
An interview with Liz Wilde
by Scott Hefflon
photos by Trevor Whitaker
It was after 10 p.m.. We were running late (as usual) and got lost (ditto). Finally, we pulled into the really slick-looking business complex. Inside consisted of glass block walls, subtle lighting, potted plants, non-threatening artwork placed at carefully planned locations… the whole “set your mind at ease” decor. It failed miserably. We would all be nervous if it weren’t for instinctive denial. Our fears were foundationless, however. Despite being the hottest D.J. in the area (#1 in Boston/ Middlessex County, Massachusetts and five surrounding states), Liz Wilde (spelled with an “e”. Get it straight!) is surprisingly human. Hillary Clinton recently discovered that janitors are people, too. We discovered that large-breasted, well-paid, sex-pot-hot-shot, rapid-firing, irreverent-witicism-spewing superstaz can be human, too. And then some.
If you’re unfamiliar with “The Liz Wilde Show” on WAAF, get your head out of the vacuum and bash it against the wall a few times. WAAF, 107.3 F.M.? Sound familiar? It’s only the oldest and one of the strongest statons in the country. You know the crazy, breasty (even over the airways, you can tell!) chick who comes on in the afternoons and parodies current events, molests famous guests and barnyard animals on the air, and has more outrageous hip-clips and slapstick licks than anyone else the FCC hasn’t yet censored into oblivion? Yup, she’s the one.
She was voted “The woman you’d most like to strip buck-naked and smear cream cheese onto while riding side-saddle on a Harley doing a buck twenty, give or take a penny” last night by a bunch of drunks at whatever bar I was in. Unlike most of the “personalities” on the air that are too aloof to talk with their listeners, Liz does a totally interactive show. She spouts off with shmoes off the street, delivery boys, Frank Perdue, Orville Redenbacher, Ozzy, Aerosmith, David Coverdale, newcomer idols like Alice in Chains, Primus, and Extreme, as well as just about any butthead who calls in or unknowingly wanders through. That’s the key, man. It’s totally spontaneous.
Like Spinal Tap drummers; you just never know when she’s going to explode. She can go for a while just playing that much needed, therapeutic rock ‘n’ roll. But you know, sooner or later, she’s going to moisten her panties and do a mental strip tease for you. There is no script, only a general plan and lots of free form. Off the top of her head, from the tip of her tongue, from the heart itself is where her material comes. It’s obvious she keeps abreast of current events (again with mammory gland allusions, huh?) and has no qualms about quipping and jabbing playfully at the idiocies that occurs every day. Many of us depend on her inciteful insights as much as Letterman’s Top 10 Lists to keep us in touch with the news. We’re certainly not going to watch 30-60 minutes of watered-down TV drivel. (Minus, of course, the 20-40 minutes of commercials for cars we can’t afford, movies we wouldn’t pay $2 to see much less $8, and hype for yet another breakthrough in toothpaste.) Liz and Company produce their own skits on controversial topics and new releases. The spoofs are hilarious, pack a punch, and often create more of a stir than the original topics. I’m not really sure what that goes to show, but it’s got to go to show something!
The minds behind the Liz Wilde machine, besides the mouth herself, are her “sidekick” and co-writer, Sly, the producer, Sam the Mailman, and the “deep-voiced guy” from K-Mart specials and Monster Truck competitions, Mark Lucas. Also involved are five or more other odd individuals who “write,” do voices, and be weird.
“The Liz Wilde Show,” as formerly plugged (ahem, mentioned) is on weekday afternoons on WAAF, 107.3 F.M.. It’s got higher ratings than any other radio broadcast in the area, and that’s not by mistake. After dealing with safe sex, seat belts, air bags, anti-lock brakes, and enough confrontational non-events, it’s refreshing to meditate naked, wearing only a cock-ring, and let Liz Wilde entertain you with the real world.
