Moon or shine, Detroit DJ and Party Princess Lisa Lisa holds court over the airwaves at Oldies 104.3 WOMC and as entertainment attorney at law. For the record, the legal name of this doyenne of techno – Top-40 – hip-hop – rap – beats of decades past and present: Lisa J. Orlando.
Arguably, the Royal Oak resident is a DJ at law – or, say, a legal DJ. Her spin: "… when you look at the span of my life, the timeline of my life, the majority of it was spent as a DJ. That, I think, is my ultimate passion. But both areas are fueled by the same kind of thing – running your mouth, thinking on your feet," Orlando muses. "I guess I would say I'm a DJ that's also an attorney. And then if you ask me at 6:00 after I just won a case, I might say I'm an attorney that's also a DJ. That could change day to day."
Around the dial
The Farmington-bred music supreme was turned onto radio at 88.3 WCBN-FM, the University of Michigan student-run radio station. To jive with her new passion, she switched her major from pre-law to communications and English. After graduating in 1982, she parlayed an internship at the original 93.1 WDRQ into roles as promotions and programming assistant and part-time air personality.
And so began an odyssey of the Detroit radio dial: urban WJLB-FM98 , where she was the first Caucasian promotions director; Top-40 Z95.5 (predecessor to Channel 955); rhythmic contemporary 96.3 WHYT (now 96.3 WDVD). It was at 96.3 that Orlando finally sparked her career, and, more importantly, gave rise to others ...making music history.
"You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes one in a lifetime yo…"
-"Lose Yourself" Eminem
In the early 90s, Orlando hosted Open Mic Nights for unsung rappers like, oh, Marshall Mathers (Eminem) and Bob Ritchie (Kid Rock). Wanting to "bust a rhyme", they would "call the request line and just audition for me free-style, just rappin' away on the telephone." Claude Young, now another big techno DJ in Germany, made 3-minute impromptu beats in the station's production room for the best artistes to rap over live on the air.
"I could tell that this urban hip-hop thing was going to be moving out of the confines of The Ghetto Boys and Black Sheep into what Eminem and Kid Rock have turned hip-hop into today," she recalls. "It all strictly came off the street, even with the mixers I worked with… Nothing was solicited; it was all just an era of the city that I was glad to be part of."
Today, there is no parallel to the production room (or boom) of 96.3. The practice of tapping up-and-comers to do live ditties has been erased by radio's increasing conservatism – think FCC indecency regulations and 8-second delay – and with the shift from live nighttime broadcasts to those pre-recorded over voice track. "Radio used to be so much more raw 15 years ago," she laments.
During that era, 96.3 dominated in the ratings, with much credit due to Orlando, says Rick Gillette, the former program manager at WHYT who dubbed her Lisa Lisa. "She wanted to help Kid Rock and Eminem and those kids because she thought they were good and she wanted to give them a chance... We had this vehicle, and how could we use it to lift these kids up? I think she really likes music, she cares about the artists, and she wants to see people get ahead and succeed in the business and have the same opportunities she did. She's a giver, not a taker."
Talent magnet
Orlando's desire to give aspiring entertainers – a new wave of techno DJs like Claude Young, Kevin Saunderson, Derrick May, Juan Atkins, Richie Hawtin, Jack in the Mix, and Jackie Christie – some exposure revived her early interest in the legal field. To prepare for representing local talent, she enrolled at the University of Detroit Mercy and "went to law school during the day and then rocked the mic at night and taught aerobics in between." She graduated in 1993 and passed the bar in 1994, the same year that 96.3 changed format and replaced its air staff. Thus, law in earnest it became. After working for Detroit entertainment attorney Rosemary Daher for about six months, she established her own private practice.
After a two-year absence from the air, 93.1 WDRQ called her to take over their afternoon drive program. For the next nine years, she had the ear of commuters, practiced law for friends and family, and found fame as a nightclub DJ. She spun her own mixes, un-edited, sometimes on a live mic with babel in the background. "I played at Space, I was a resident there for three years, and Bleu, Backstreet, gay clubs, straight clubs, white clubs, black clubs, all of 'em."
Early in 2006, she recalls matter-of-factly, the station switched to a jockless format. Static again. So her caseload, and radio-biz clientele, grew late into 2007.
Then the career teeter totter shifted once again, when Jay Towers, her former morning host at 93.1, extended an invitation to a new dance party – at Oldies 104.3 WOMC. "And my first thought was well, how do I go from a Top-40 format to do oldies? My idea of oldies was The Beatles, and Credence Clearwater Revival and all that kind of rock stuff before I was born. He said, 'No, we're really trying to move this station into the 70s and early 80s, all this stuff that you grew up with. ' "
Now Orlando still orbits the moon: from the witching hour to 5 A.M. Tuesday through Friday, and live for the Saturday Night Dance Party from 8 P.M. to 1 A.M. While the weekly nightclub gigs are over, she still plays at one-up parties and special events. "My dance party show has enjoyed great success; the ratings have come back very strongly, with the demographics that they wanted. It all worked out. I'm still practicing law, not quite full-time but more than I have in the past, and doing the oldies thing at the radio station."
Her favorite vocalist? Believe it or not, timeless contemporary Barbra Streisand. And trust her to show for morning court appearances, just hours after signing off the air.
"She's done a good job keeping herself in the public eye and of being a local personality in a struggling entertainment market for anyone, really," says Daher. "In times of depression, entertainment is always the first to go."
Other than passing the bar, Orlando's signature act is "having longevity in my hometown, on the air, in a format I love. I don't know of many other female DJs outside of maybe Karen Savelly (of 94.7 WCSX) that have been able to do that in the music format."
This DJ-cum-barrister, who represents legendary R&B artist Norma Jean Bell could have made a new dedication to one of the entertainment law and music capitals (Los Angeles, New York, Miami, or Nashville), but instead chooses to stay home.
She says, "When anyone tries to dumb this city down, it's not even close to being true, because when they like the talent, whether it is a club DJ, a musician, a jazz artist, or an on-air DJ, they're going to make sure that you stick around. And I've been fortunate to have that kind of a listener fan base. I've been welcomed at every station I've gone to."
And that's her closing argument.
Tanya Muzumdar is a freelance writer and regular contributor to both Metromode and Concentrate. Her previous article was Sex in the Sprawl.