For generations, he was the voice of Shaggy on the old "Scooby-Doo" cartoons that we used to watch on Saturday mornings. We just didn't know that was him. Hey, we were kids. Whoever's voice played what cartoon character didn't matter a whole lot then.
Over the years as I left childhood and became a teenager did I know who this man born in Detroit was. That was because at Christmas time 1978, I was introduced to this radio show that had been around for over eight years called American Top 40.
I didn't hear the whole countdown of the 100 biggest hits of the year. As a matter of fact, I missed the first part of that countdown on Christmas weekend 1978. I caught the last couple of hours of the second part on New Year's weekend. I was stunned that a Top 10 hit called "I Go Crazy," which seemingly never left radio from the fall of 1977 until the spring of 1978, finished at No. 12 on the chart for the year in spite of the fact it only got to No. 7 on the Billboard Hot 100. And though the Bee Gees' hit from "Saturday Night Fever" called "Night Fever" spent eight weeks at No. 1 that year, longer than any other song, it finished No. 2 behind Andy Gibb's "Shadow Dancing," which spent a mere seven weeks at No. 1.
That would be my introduction to the charts. Three weeks later on Super Bowl Sunday, I got reintroduced to what was now the regular countdown of the 40 biggest hits of the week. I remember getting home from something our family did and my dad turning the stereo to WXLO-FM (99.1) in New York. He knew I might be interested in this show called American Top 40. Again, I didn't hear the entire countdown, but picked up in the third hour sometime after noon and listened until 2 p.m. when the band Chic made AT40 history by going back to No. 1 for the third time in its chart run with "Le Freak," something never done in the AT40 era.
Yeah, I was hooked for the rest of my pre-teen, teen and young adult life. AT40 was my weekend life no matter what radio station it was on – whether it was WXLO, WJLK in Asbury Park, WJRZ in Manahawkin, N.J., WPLJ in New York or WPST in Trenton. For four hours, AT40 was my best friend. By 1982, all the debut songs in the Top 40 that week were getting taped. By 1979, my dad was buying Billboard magazine every week so I knew what songs were ready to hit the AT40 countdown that weekend.
Until his departure from the show the first time on August 6, 1988 because the company refused to fork out $1 million a year for him to host the most recognizable music show in the world anymore, AT40 hosted by Casey Kasem wasn't a weekend event.
It was a religion.
Still is thanks to the rebroadcasts of the shows I listened to in the 1980s and the ones from the 1970s that I missed but rediscovered thanks to Sirius XM, which brought the shows back in August 2006, and to the Premier Radio Network, who have done an outstanding job of taking the restored broadcasts and having them played on various radio stations all over the world.
So when Casey Kasem passed away on Father's Day morning, June 15, at the age of 82 after fighting a form of dementia for the better part of two years, it was as if another huge piece of my childhood died, too. I understand what dementia in any form does to a family all too well. So, believe me, his passing was not unexpected.
A lot of the music trivia I learned about, whether it was the song or the act performing, was because of the show. It was Casey Kasem who delivered the stories in that recognizable voice of grandfatherly reason. That style was why he was the King of the Countdowns. Too many of the countdown show hosts out there now try to get fancy and do something that just doesn't resonate with an audience. I won't name names, but you kind of know who and what I'm talking about.
Each countdown every week was a four-hour present as far as I was concerned – even if I did know what the song was and where it was in the Top 40 that week. And sure, there were stories he'd repeat over and over again about such artists as Marvin Gaye (how Gladys Knight and the Pips made "I Heard It Through The Grapevine" a smash first before Gaye did as his version sat around for three years collecting dust), James Brown (about growing up so poor and then earning enough money to buy the radio station he listened to as a kid), Ray Parker Jr. (about how he hung up on Stevie Wonder four times before finally being convinced by the man himself he was who he said he was) and Freddy Fender (how he was gone from the music scene after being arrested in 1960, then tried to recapture the promised glory and it took over a decade to do so). I knew the end result each time, but that was OK. And yes, in 1987, Casey could not bring himself to say the controversial title of that George Michael song from the "Beverly Hills Cop II" soundtrack, but that was OK. It was a pretty controversial time to see a song called "I Want Your Sex" climbing the chart.
The countdown was entertainment thanks to the trivia, the stories, the "extras" and those famous long-distance dedications. Four hours of listening to the countdown meant four hours I wasn't thinking about getting into some kind of trouble, not that I was looking for it. And if it wasn't just the radio program – it was his early Saturday afternoon staple on television "America's Top 10" in which you got to see the man himself introduce the videos of the songs that were on the various charts that week. Yes, you could call Casey Kasem the very first "VJ" if you'd like, long before Mark, J.J., Alan, Nina and Martha and MTV invaded the cable airwaves and started introducing music videos.
From January 1979 until August 1988, Casey Kasem, born Kemal Amin Kasem on April 27, 1932, to Lebanese parents and who first got into the radio business as a disc jockey in nearby Flint, Mich., in the 1950s after serving in the Korean War, was my weekend radio entertainment. And even when he was on vacation and had someone like Mark Elliott, Robert W. Morgan or even game show legend Bob Eubanks hosting that week, I knew "Uncle Casey" would return the next week to count down the hits.
And when he counted down to Steve Winwood's "Roll With It" at No. 1 on that August 6, 1988 countdown, I listened to the end to hear him give his final thank yous and give credit to those who worked diligently on that broadcast that week. I was waiting for a final farewell after hosting the show since July 1970. For months, I knew this would be the last AT40 under the ABC/Watermark flagship for him. They claimed it was a "ratings issue" that they wouldn't pay him what he was worth.
Um, guys, he was worth every last penny you paid him. There was quite an interest in AT40 solely because of Casey Kasem. By 1988, the music industry was changing and not all for the better. So maybe numbers were down by then because of the stuff that was being put out there. Remember, rap and hip-hop were slowly coming of age. Even so, a 56-year-old Kasem could make the music sound hip.
To this day, it's one of the worst decisions ever made by a radio network. Yes, ever!
But shockingly, he didn't say goodbye to his fan base that day he signed off on AT40. It felt like he was going to be back the next weekend, even though I knew Shadoe Stevens was taking over and ready to put his own mark on the show to what some people thought was going to be a "younger, hipper" audience.
Some of us who were fans of the show because of the original host never bought it and never really bought the whole Shadoe "appeal." But I was a faithful listener of the show and he did try to make it appealing as best as he could. It wasn't Shadoe Stevens' fault in the end, really. The Billboard charts were splintering into full-out messes and the technology that charted the Hot 100 chart was severely changed.
Not having Casey Kasem around anymore to count down the hits was bad enough. But to change twice between 1991 until the show's end in 1995 to a radio airplay chart was even worse. Technology may have made for more of an accurate account of the charts, but it wasn't making for a better show or countdown followers. And the music wasn't getting any better either.
Meanwhile, Kasem returned with Casey's Top 40 in early 1989 and it was still the same ol' Casey counting down the hits, telling stories and freely handing out trivial bits to the audience. But the genie was out of the bottle by then. Using a "different" source to count down the hits other than Billboard just never felt right. They were counting down from the Radio & Records music charts and since I had no access to them, I really could never get into it. And even after the AT40 name was resurrected in 1998 and Kasem was allowed to host under that title again, it still wasn't the same. Billboard's Hot 100 was the countdown chart bible. By the latter end of the century, there were too many charts saturating the landscape and telling everyone what their big hits were.
It was still Casey, though. And so when I heard he was being sent out to the AT40 pasture again in late 2003 in favor of the "younger, hipper" Ryan Seacrest, I knew it was over. For a short time, I tried to listen to the Seacrest-hosted AT40 but because the musical landscape isn't even close to what I remembered from the 1970s and '80s and it's his style of hosting a show, I just could never regularly listen to that show again.
And you might call it being nostalgic, but since 2006, I try not to miss any rebroadcast of the old AT40, whether it's the '70s or '80s rebroadcasts, even if Sirius XM's failed excuse for
editors chops the old show to embarrassing bits, not allowing us to hear more of Kasem's personality on those shows.
I knew this day was going to come sooner or later, especially after Dick Clark died in 2012 at the age of 82.
Those who grew up with Casey Kasem, whether if it was as the voice of Shaggy or Alexander Cabot on the cartoon "Josey & The Pussycats" or any of the guest appearances on shows such as "Charlie's Angels," "Hawaii Five-O," "Quincy, M.E." and "Police Story" or his TV or radio countdown shows are in mourning over the passing of this amazing man. I've heard many people have great stories about the kind of man he was to them in the Facebook page for "American Top 40, the '70s" the last year or so. I thank each and every person for telling their story, especially those who worked alongside him at whatever company employed him.
The last year has been a sad, sordid tale with this dying man being pulled around like a wishbone. All I really wished for was that he was surrounded by people who loved him ... and that meant all family members. The man deserved to pass away with dignity – not in dysfunction.
And so I thank those who loved him – whether it was his daughters Kerri and Julie and son Mike to first wife Linda to his second wife Jean and their daughter Liberty as well as the many siblings, cousins, uncles and mother and father – for sharing him with myself and the millions who loved him.
I'm not sure what landmark or monument you can erect in his honor. I leave that up to those who have this man's back and know what's right. I tend to believe he wouldn't want any of us to make much ado about him.
He may not have made a big deal over himself, but he sure was a big deal in every way, shape and form.
R.I.P. Casey. We'll keep our feet on the ground as you have finally "reached the stars."
Beautifully written.. he was a great man!
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