“Fear. Fear’s a powerful thing. I mean it’s got a lot of firepower. If you can figure out a way to wrestle that fear to push you from behind rather than to stand in front of you, that’s very powerful.” — Jimmy Iovine
By the time I was 15 years old, I was in the midst of changing high schools and moving to yet another completely different city: Fresno. Multiple moves and loss of friendships over my short amount of years manifested into my extremely closed off, quiet, angry and distrustful nature. It took me a long time to even consider making friends at my new high school, for fear that I would move and never see them again. Well, I did make friends — really good friends. And the move did happen — only now, it was them who left me. Suddenly, they were all gone, off to college and far from home. And for the first time, I wished I was moving again too. Instead, I was left to my own devices in Fresno; alone and starting all over on a brand new campus.
Freshman year. 2003. Fresno State.
I was lost and uncertain, to say the least. I spent a whole year trying and failing at science classes. I was in the midst of changing majors, saying goodbye to my parents’ aspirations for medical school forever. Since I didn’t have a direction, I thought about what I at least liked to DO. And for me, that was reading, writing and listening to music. So, I switched to the only thing that made sense for me: English major.
Even though I was already working two jobs and could barely keep up with the endless chapters to read and essays to write, I decided it was a good idea to also apply to the campus radio station. It was unpaid. It was another thing to add to my schedule. It would definitely get me more campus parking tickets. But I did it anyway. It was set into motion when I ran into an old high school classmate.
“Hey! How are you? What have you been up to,” we asked each other. The only answer I remember hearing was that she said she worked at the campus radio station and they were looking for DJs. She thought I should apply, to which I answered, “We have a campus radio station?”
I blew it off, not thinking there was even a remote possibility that I would sign up. But I found myself unable to stop thinking about it. I was intrigued by the possibility that I could show other people all the music I knew and loved. I spent all my free time with headphones over my ears. Music was my escape and I would obsessively listen to things I loved over and over again. I wanted to share that experience. So, I found the directions to the station and turned in my application. I had no prior broadcast experience. I had never stepped foot in a radio station. I think I barely knew what an audio board was.
Station Manager Joe Moore, hired me on the spot.
They were in need of someone who could push the play button. Maybe the music didn’t even have to make sense, as long as it covered the awful sound of dead air. As a closed off, quiet and shy kid, making this move was unheard of in my book. It was the first bold thing I had decided to do as a young adult, going against all practicality in favor of desire, emotion and instinct.
“Soreath — what are you doing? You’re going to host a radio show? You’re going to turn on a mic and speak in public? Soreath — what are you doing?” said a little voice in my head.
But I knew that if I didn’t take this opportunity, I would seriously regret it. Instead I leaned into that feeling of fear, nervousness, excitement and anticipation. And that has been what I’ve sought out ever since to inform every major career decision in my life. This was the first time I felt this intuition speaking, telling me that I was about to do something right for me and my personal growth.
I remember my hands being very clammy. I walked into my first practice session clutching my stack of music. Joe showed me how to operate the board. He hit ‘record’ and gave me an hour. He told me to play music from the station library.
Music from the station library? I began to panic slightly. I had already come prepared with a detailed playlist from my personal collection. You see, I was already fully-formed as a die-hard Aaliyah fan. I lived and breathed TLC, Missy and Timbaland, all the 90’s hip hop and R&B staples, of course. But I also had a soft spot for Aimee Mann, Nirvana, The Ramones and Kanye West. The Beatles were of mythical status. I was in love with The English Beat, and just a few years prior, I had listened to Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” for the first time. During my teenage years, I had been through all the exploratory phases: punk, ska, oldies, classic rock, musicals. Turns out, I was building an eclectic foundation which would later serve me well in this role.
I remember staring at the daunting rows of unknown names. They might as well have been written in different languages. I had never even heard of any of these artists. Iron and Wine? Jamie Cullum? Who?
So, I just began blindly playing records. Luckily, I had a knack for skipping to the best songs. And that’s how I discovered music, and invariably, myself.
I remember vividly how much music that place had; stacks and rows of dusty, forgotten records. It was a gold mine, a treasure trove. I didn’t realize it at the time, but working at KFSR was one of the most fun and carefree experiences of my life.
With the guidance and support of people like Frank D, Joe Moore, Don Fisher, Don Priest (who all had their own amazing shows) and our many talented and long-standing DJs, the station started to develop its own sound.
I discovered so much music, sometimes at the same time that listeners were hearing them for the first time. I developed my taste for underground hip-hop, Americana, soul, world, folk, electronica and more. I listened to anything and everything.
Eventually, I even got paid a little money to be the music director. A lot of it was taking calls from promotions companies, but mostly, I got paid to listen to and play music. Great, right? But there are many factors that led me to leave the position. I was close to graduating and at the same time, my real-world career in TV news was just blooming. I got my first job at a TV station because of my radio experience.
I didn’t even know that it was something I wanted to do. I was just fascinated by broadcast in general and I thought it would be cool to operate cameras and see how a TV studio worked.
I decided early on that I wanted to produce. It reminded me so much of being a DJ at KFSR. I was able to select the music (stories) and organize them into a playlist (newscast), and I had control over the content (Music Director). KFSR helped me transition seamlessly from radio to television. It also gave a shy and quiet Cambodian girl, a voice and courage to speak up.
Not only did KFSR equip me with the skills I needed as an adult, it touched me in an emotional way that only music can. It’s made me an overall better human being, to be able to toggle between Johnny Cash, Jenny Lewis, Me’Shell Ndegeocello, Bonobo, The Roots, Mayer Hawthorne, and many, many more. The music that I played at KFSR was the soundtrack to my life.
Every now and then, I still encounter music ghosts. They’re the songs that you can’t quite hum. The names of the artists are a blur, and forget about the song title, that’s a lost cause.
But even though I can’t quite remember the song, I remember how I FELT when I played it. I remember closing my eyes and absorbing the rhythm, the beat, the lyrics. I wish I could go back and touch those songs again. But I feel a certain comfort in knowing that I was able to blast those tunes out to space; that somewhere, someone heard them and maybe felt the same way I did.
