It's a running gag on Seven Second Delay that Andy Breckman's music tastes run no deeper than Poco and Jackson Browne. But like his faux misanthropy and staged insults (fact: he IM's an apology to each caller after every show), Andy's alleged musical Philistinism is a riff. His iPod shuffle reflects a more eclectic appetite than 90% of the station's sneering, insecure poseurs. Andy's tastes are so adventurous that he endures charges of parochialism on 7SD because he doesn't need to prove anything. The evidence is readily available online in the playlists of the long-running, if episodic program, Go To Hell! With Andy Breckman.
Over the years, Andy has hosted dozens of last-minute WFMU fill-ins, usually during off-hours, with little fanfare. As his archives indicate, the real Andy Breckman is a musical connoisseur, a sonic bon vivant, an audio omnivore. From psychedelia to show tunes, from snotty L.A. punk to hip-hop, from Ethiopique to breezy Tin Pan Alley, from Senegalese Mbalax to free jazz -- if it can be ripped, one-clicked at Amazon, or downloaded from a blog in Thailand, it will end up in Andy's earbuds, and eventually on WFMU's airwaves.
The tragedy of Andy's career as a DJ is that, due to an unfortunate confluence of archiving software glitches, server crashes, accidental file deletions, and vindictive hackers (including several rival DJs), audio exists for just one show (April 1, 2009). However, meticulously annotated set-lists handwritten by Andy on Post-It pads have helped WFMU document every segue from every program he's hosted since 1994. These playlists chronicle his genre-surfing musical Odysseys: there are thoughtful concept shows, clever song threads, and sets that reflect a surprising commitment to eco-awareness. Andy's tribute to the 1967 Summer of Love offers a vault of nuggets so obscure that not only do these relics not appear on any other WFMU staffer's playlist, they can't be Googled without circling back to Andy's archives.
Though the audio of these programs has been lost, there is a rabid following for Andy's singular brand of broadcasting. His shows are so deeply revered that obsessive fans have recreated many of his famous playlists as BitTorrent distributed files. It goes without saying that these music-only compilations aren’t the same without Andy's snarky commentary and mic breaks punctuated by droll rape analogies.