THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, August 16, 1996 TAG: 9608160041
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Larry Brown
LENGTH: 148 lines
HAT'S UP, Y'ALL?
What's it gonna be?
Who's on the line with your homey Al B.?
With those words, the party's started.
That's when the talented, the nervous, the neophyte callers ring in to the latest edition of ``The Roll Call,'' WOWI-FM's (102.9/103 JAMZ) fun and funky call-in segment that airs twice a night on the station's hip-hop show.
They come armed with home-written raps - four lines of bravado that usually consist of their name and why they're the baddest, smoothest or sexiest.
Since its debut last winter, ``The Roll Call'' has been infectious. Callers jam up the phone lines at 7:35 and 9:35 p.m. for the 10- to 20-minute segments, while listeners shut up, pump up the volume and edge closer to the nearest radio.
And the ringleader of the nightly circus is the hyper hip-hop hawker Al B. Sylk.
``It's a vehicle for people to interact and be a part of the program,'' Sylk said recently.
And it's clean and positive.
``How many times can parents sit and listen or watch something with their kids and enjoy it?'' he said. ``That's what I'm looking for with `The Roll Call.'
``And you just can't beat the participation.''
With a groove called ``Hey, Mr. DJ'' from the female group Zhane pulsing in the background, Sylk begins his three-line Roll Call intro:
What's up, y'all?
What's it gonna be?
Who's on the line with your homey Al B.?
Caller: Well, my name is Jerome and I'm here to say
This show is cool in a major way
Sylk: Well, that's jam good with the shout that you're sending
Tell me, Jerome, where you representin'?
(Reader's Note: To the uninitiated, represent means to claim high your home city, whether you're calling from ``P-Town,'' ``VA-Beach'' or ``The Peake'').
Jerome: I represent Norfolk as clear as can be
My crew's always rocking to 103
Sylk: Norfolk's in the house!
Jerome: A-baby baby!
Sylk: Norfolk's in the house!
Jerome: A-baby baby!
Sylk: Norfolk's in the house!
Jerome: A-baby baby!
Sylk: Norfolk's in the house
Both: With The Roll Call!
The program's charm picked up shortly after Sylk moved here from Pittsburgh, where he also did the show. Its success here, he said, has been overwhelming.
Teens, college students, professionals, military personnel, moms, pops - ``The Roll Call'' seems to transcend the usual demographic barriers in radioland.
``I get them all,'' Sylk said. ``I get anybody who can talk and some people who can't talk.''
Rarely have just a few lines from a radio show invaded our daily dialogue. But that's just what ``The Roll Call'' has done to listeners across Hampton Roads.
``I am sweating `The Roll Call,' '' said Tawny Millard, 20, a senior at Hampton University. ``I think it's cool.''
Millard, who likes to shout ``Hampton's in the house!'' when she's with her girls, proclaims the show as a fun time to listen to the radio.
``It gives people an opportunity to be creative, to have fun, to be on the air, which the average African-American doesn't get to do,'' she said.
Brandon Lockhart, a junior at Princess Anne High School in Virginia Beach, listens a couple times a week, usually in a car.
``It gives people out there with talent a chance to call in,'' said Lockhart, 15. ``It's a great idea.''
And it's one, Lockhart said, that's had people talking from the classroom to the beauty shop. People want to know whether the previous night's callers were sweet or sour, whether they could flow or if they were ``chicken-line'' callers - those who giggle, stumble or just hang up when it's their turn on the mike.
And it's not just for teenagers.
``No matter who you are or who you bump into, if you just say the opening statement: `What's up, y'all. . . ' People know how to complete it,'' said LaVenia Rice, a master control operator for Fox-TV in Norfolk. ``People know exactly what comes next.''
Rice, 25, credits Sylk with shaping one of the most innovative shows on radio.
``He's got a unique twist. . . . No one has ever had the skill or the talent or the know-how to pull out something like `The Roll Call,' '' Rice said. ``It takes a lot of talent to make it go smoothly.''
Sylk, 27, said he's flattered by the compliments, as well as the people who'll stop him on the street and want to rap for him.
``I think it surprised a lot of people how many adults enjoy `The Roll Call' and take time out of their day or their evening to listen,'' he said.
It's become a ritual for some to stop what they're doing to tune in twice a night. Conversations drop. Dinners burn.
``No matter what they're doing, they'll stop,'' Sylk said. ``They don't want to miss.''
There's at least two types of listeners: those who simply enjoy listening to other people rap and the wanna-be Snoops who jot down their rhymes on notebook paper and dial and dial and dial until they get through.
``You have people who practice,'' Sylk said. ``Like kids do homework, you have people that practice for `Roll Call.' Parents too.''
Some, Lockhart said, approach their friends to see how a rap sounds, or flows.
``They have them ready like three to four weeks before they call in,'' said Lockhart, 15. ``It's always so hard to get in. It's always busy.''
The trick, Sylk said, is to just be yourself. When you call, you . . . can't . . . talk . . . like . . . this . . . and . . . expect . . . to . .
``I encourage everybody to be themselves,'' he said. ``Some people can do it, some people get frustrated.''
But it seems that when many people call Sylk, it's like they're calling an old friend or that kid from high school who used to joke with everybody.
``I think that comes from listening and just having my mom's personality,'' said Sylk, who describes himself as very outgoing. ``When people are comfortable around you, there's no tension and they feel they can talk to you.''
Even though he's the only man in the booth, Sylk's interaction with callers creates a party atmosphere. He coos to female callers and jokes with the guys.
There's barely time for him to slow down between cuing tapes, grabbing CDs, answering phone lines, recording dialogue and getting ready for the next leg of his show. He does all this while shouting into the mike and dancing like he's in the middle of a house party. He's pushing out energy like he just drank 10 cups of coffee.
The hyperactivity, he said, all comes from his love of entertaining listeners.
``I'm given the opportunities to do what I like to do so,'' he said.
When he was in college, Sylk said, he never wanted to do radio.
``I thought you couldn't be you,'' Sylk said. But he tried it.
His experiences, culminating in his favorable stint here, have shifted those early feelings.
``They allow me the freedom to do what I like to do,'' he said about his bosses at 103. ``They know I have enough sense not to go overboard, and if I do . . . Hurricane (program director Hurricane Dave) is there with the rope to pull me back.''
Going overboard in radioland can mean using obscene language on the air - an FCC no-no. Whether in their Roll Call raps or in just making shout-outs, he tells listeners he runs a ``PG show.''
He won't air racial slurs, harsh profanities or comments that disrespect women, he said.
``I wouldn't play anything I wouldn't want my daughters to hear,'' said Sylk, the father of a girls age 5 and 10.
``If they can't hear it, I don't need to be doing it.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by Huy Nguyen/The Virginian-Pilot
Al. B. Sylk interacts with listeners while answering the phones
during "The Roll Call by CNB