Anyone who’s listened to jazz on the radio in Philadelphia is familiar with Bob Perkins’ shorthand. “BP with the GM” signifies “Bob Perkins with the Good Music,” naturally.
During my time at WRTI, if I happened to be filling in on an afternoon classical shift, he and I crossed paths occasionally. (The station segues from classical to jazz at 6:00.) Knowing his sly sense of humor, I offered once, “It’s not every day that British Petroleum meets American Oil Company” – a play on BP and Amico (Amoco). His rejoinder had something to do with both of us being full of gas.
I just learned from this tribute by Kile Smith that Perkins died yesterday at the age of 91. I beg your indulgence for my trafficking in cliché, but with his passing, we lost a piece of living history, with a lifetime of accrued knowledge that truly was encyclopedic. You know how people say, “He’s forgotten more than I’ll ever know?” That was Bob. He actually knew most of the Philadelphia artists, stretching back decades, whose recordings he played.
In his 60-some years in the media, he met countless figures from the worlds of arts and entertainment, politics, radio and TV – people like Nancy Wilson, Johnny Hartman, Billy Eckstine, and Mercer Ellington. As a newsman and editorialist, he was invited to the White House twice, during the Ford and Carter administrations. He was the recipient of numerous honors and awards for his achievements in the field of broadcast.
Beneath the effortless cool Kile describes (and Perkins had it in spades), he also possessed impeccable taste. Whether it was Yusef Lateef’s “Love Theme from Spartacus” or Dakota Staton’s “The Late, Late Show,” I always did enjoy his GM.
I was active at WRTI for a little over two years, hired as an on-call classical host, who somehow wound up holding down a regular overnight jazz shift. How crazy is that? I even filled in on “Sunday Jazz Brunch” once or twice. But I was little more than keeping the chair warm for Bob. All the same, it was an honor for me to be able to share the air waves with him, if only for a short time. R.I.P.
