For the better part of a year, Terbrock’s voice has graced KSHE-95 on the show Monday Night Metal, which the local rock ’n’ roll über-station broadcasts (with typical contrariety) 9 p.m.–midnight each Tuesday. For the affable, bearish South-Sider, that gig fulfills a longstanding ambition of considerable power. “When I walk in for every shift,” he says, “I kiss the board.”
Hyperbole? Maybe. But Terbrock’s no radio debutant. For the past six years, he’s produced The Dave Glover Show on KSHE sister station KFTK (97.1 FM), 4–7 p.m. weekdays. For much of that time, Terbrock has also served as the on-air sidekick to Glover, whom he reveres.
KSHE, though, is a special case. The homeof cartoon pig Sweetmeat has long held aplace in Terbrock’s heart. Even before his college days in the mid-’80s, when he broadcast on Southeast Missouri State University’s student radio station in Cape Girardeau, Terbrock worshiped the “Rock of St. Louis” and dreamed of spinning discs there.
Amusingly, he first won a guest spot on KSHE on a bet. That guest spot sealed programming director Rick Balis’ doom; it reinforced Terbrock’s love for KSHE and made him crave a berth in its Union Station HQ even more. “It took me two years of badgering him,” Terbrock recalls with a chuckle. “I mean, every week, it’d be, like, ‘Will you get this fat bastard out of the way?’”
Balis finally granted Terbrock a 12-week run on Monday Night Metal last summer. Listeners hailed the move, as well as Terbrock’s programming, which ranges from classic metal maniacs like Motörhead to newer acts like Corrosion of Conformity. Around Labor Day, the popularity of the headbangers’ ball prompted the station to extend Monday Night Metal indefinitely.
It likely helped that KSHE DJs like Katy Kruze embraced Terbrock as a comrade in arms. After all, KSHE memorabilia covers one whole upstairs wall of the sprawling Bevo home he shares with his wife of 20 years, Jill, whose musical support he praises. “There’s no conflict there—there’s no arguing,” Terbrock says. “The only thing arguing would be her going, ‘Turn it up louder!’”
That’s apt. Despite its rep for toughness, heavy metal has always had a tender side. When his run on Monday Night Metal turned from temporary to permanent, that dichotomy hit Terbrock with all the force of a Black Sabbath power chord. “I cried,” he confesses. “I cried in front of Rick. I cried when Katy came in. I cried. I’m 45, and I cried like a little baby—’cause dreams do come true.”
