The Love God

August 9, 2009

So I was listening to 106.5 the other day on the way back from work at around 9 PM or so. Normally I wouldn’t be, but both 104.1 and 104.9 were playing Nickelback or something that sounded very very much like Nickelback, and 105.7 were playing some conceptual metal bullshit, so I really didn’t have much choice. 106.5 were playing some cliched techno, but at least it was something.

As the song fades a deep baritone rumbles from my speakers. It sounds like how you’d expect a bowl of molten chocolate to sound if bowls of chocolate had mouths and the other organs necessary for such a process. Who is this voice? Where has it come from? Why is it here? There couldn’t possibly be a body, a mere mortal shell, fit enough to contain and control such a collection of beautiful sounds. The voice told me the name and artist from the last song, a fact so utterly irrelevant to me as to be laughable. It then told me it’s own name. Richard Mercer. God is called Richard Mercer.

He then told me the name of the program I was currently listening to, the program God saw fit to host and broadcast. Love Song Dedications.

At this stage my undying allegiance to Richard Mercer faltered slightly. Surely he’d have something better to do with his time? This voice is a tool of such epic proportions that, for just a tiny second, I thought it wasted on the thousands of Sydney lovers clamouring to show their undying eternal love for another with an effortless phone call to request a song that, in all likelihood, they had no part in creating. It seemed like it just didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

I snapped out of the heretical thoughts. What would I know? I’m just a simple blogger. Of course Richard Mercer matters in the grand scheme of things. He IS the grand scheme of things. This radio station is the theatre of the universe, as long as Richard Mercer so chooses it to be. Mercer went on to start telling his faithful a personal anecdote. I listened intently, as you would expect one to do when God’s telling you something.

Mercer explained that the last song was a dedication from one lover to another, and that it always pleases him to hear of love stories that work out. Fascinating. I bobbed my head in agreement. He then pointed out what normally would be the inane and obvious, but in the hands of Mercer turned into the utterly profound. ‘Love doesn’t always work out, sometimes people can get hurt’, he said. My bobbing segued into a more sombre nod, the kind you’d whip out at a eulogy. ‘I know we have some people out there listening who are going through that right now. If you’ve been feeling that pain … ‘. He trailed off. The tension was so thick your knife would’ve snapped off should you have tried to nab yourself a slice to go on your toast.

‘Well, if you want you can call in and dedicate a song, and … you know. They might be listening. Miracles do happen.’

My faith faltered again. And then blew right the fuck on up as years and years of cynicism, criticism, skepticism and general obnoxiousness exploded back into my psyche. What the fuck was this Mercer on about?

Who could possibly be impressed with a love song dedication? Surely any prospective mate having such low standards would immediately eliminate them from the pool of love candidates? If I called in to dedicate a song to my girlfriend, I have no doubt she would think me somewhat of an asshole. And rightly so, I say. Rightly so.

But here Mercer asks me to suspend my disbelief even more. He claims that a love song dedication could be so impressive a gesture as to actually get a former lover back. Holy shitnuts. As gestures go, dedicating a song to someone isn’t really that hard. Or romantic. In my mind a gesture impressive enough to rein someone back to the ranch needs to be both. Like, say, breakfast in bed. Or an unexpected hot bath with those nifty little floating candles. Something of that calibre.

When I got home I looked up this Mercer character. Turns out the “Love God” is his preferred moniker. Sickening. Under his DJ profile on MIX1065.com, he states the following in a Q&A section:

What’s the best thing about working at MIX106.5?
1. Living one of my childhood dreams of working in radio.
2. Living one of my adult dreams of hosting a program that is based NOT on cynicism, negativity and confrontation, but rather love, understanding and tolerance.

Point one is a fine aspiration. No really, it is. I’m sorry, there’s no tricks here. I know, amazing. I’m not losing my touch though. Honest.

Point two rubs me quite a bit the wrong way. If I call in to dedicate a song to someone who dumped me and now hates me, how on earth is there not going to be a confrontation?

Oh, and pulling on the tender heartstrings of broken young people to get them call your show to dedicate a song to their former lover in desperation seems to me somewhat negative and cynical. The chances of them getting back together based on a love song dedication are so so slim. Oh sure, it may happen. But, and this is where cynicism comes in handy, it is very very unlikely, and as such your efforts are somewhat wasted.  You know that. I know that. I’m sure that wherever he is, perhaps roaming the Mongolian steppes or slipping through the Parisian nightlife, the real Love God knows that as well.


One comment

  1. Nice, had to laugh at this you cynical basted :P… ahh the awesomeness!

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