22 Sept 25th-Oct 1St, 2025 phoenixnewtimes.com PHOENIX NEW TIMES | NEWS | FEATURE | FOOD & DRINK | ARTS & CULTURE | MUSIC | CONCERTS | CANNABIS | and tore across the city. “That was something cool that happened while I was on radio,” he says. “I was like, ‘There’s a tank loose,’ definitely giving little Fitz’s dreams a reality. Because, man, when I was in high school, I wanted to steal one of them fucking tanks just to see what it was like, many decades before ‘Grand Theft Auto.’ I was gonna have five wanted stars.” Over the next decade, Madrid bounced between on-air jobs mostly at rock stations across the U.S., building a career largely fueled by amps, attitude and adrenaline. “I’ve moved all over the country as radio guys tend to do. I lived everywhere from Alaska to Florida,” he says. “There was one brief, really rad moment in Las Vegas when I worked for an urban AC station and man, that was cool as shit.” In 2005, Madrid found an equally cool gig in the Valley. Landing at KUPD Madrid was hired as KUPD’s afternoon drive-time host in 2005. He admits he was intimidated at first, given the station’s respected status in rock radio. “(It felt) like I walked into something that was so fucking big. Even now thinking about it, I’m just like, ‘Damn,’” he says. “It was legitimately crazy stepping into this station.” Two decades later, Madrid’s become a fixture at KUPD, which has been a mainstay of Arizona rock radio since its debut in 1979. Radio’s occasionally known for inter- station feuds and behind-the-mic beefs. Madrid says KUPD’s been the exception. No backstabbing or feuding jocks. Just solid chemistry with the whole crew, including popular longtime morning man John Holmberg. “The dysfunction in radio usually is the morning guy and the afternoon guy fucking hate each other and are constantly playing the program director off on the other side,” Madrid says. “It’s just this scrambling dirt pile of bullshit that has never happened to KUPD.” That isn’t to say they don’t give each other shit. “I’ve worked with these guys for 20 years. We’ve all seen each other naked. We’ve seen each other at our best and our worst and everything in between. It’s a good relationship,” Madrid says. “Is there ball busting? Absolutely. Is it mean-spirited? Absolutely fucking not. Do we say rude shit to each other? Completely. Is it always done respectfully? You fucking know it, because that’s the thing that keeps this going.” While Madrid doesn’t have any Howard Stern-style stories of showdowns with fellow deejays, he does have tales of memo- rable moments with KUPD fans. There’s the time a listener got his name tattooed on their back (“I hope they’ve since gotten that removed,” Madrid says) or a raucous occa- sion introducing Slayer’s final Phoenix gig in 2019. “(The) place is fucking packed, and I said to the audience, ‘I want to do some- thing with you guys.’ They’re like, ‘Whatever.’ I’m like, ‘(Start chanting) ‘fucking Slayer, fucking Slayer,’” Madrid says. “Dude, it felt like grabbing the throttle of a 9-billion-horsepower motor- cycle. The roar that came out of the crowd. I got to — just for a second — use the ephemeral, magnificent, otherworldly power of Slayer to bond with the fans. I will never fucking forget that.” Local metalheads are also known to lose their minds at KUPD’s annual UFest when Madrid launches piñatas into the pit. Fans tear through the crowd, racing the papier-mache beasts to the rear of the venue and back to the stage. Madrid says the piñatas “look funny as fuck bouncing along a crowd” and the races are filled with antics, like an older rock ‘n’ roller who charged ahead of the competition in 2024. “It went into the audience, and it started to come back down. And then some dude with giant dad energy ran it down to the front of the stage,” Madrid says. “He’s running with the piñata on his shoulder with a tallboy in hand, booking it down to the stage. I’m like, ‘Oh fuck.’” One of Madrid’s favorite KUPD memories came just this past summer. Arizona Secretary of State Adrian Fontes, temporarily serving as acting governor, made an in-studio appearance to sign a proclamation declaring July 22 as “Ozzy Day” following the death of the late metal god and Black Sabbath frontman. “My hair is standing up on end,” Madrid says. “To see Arizona just acknowledge the power of Ozzy’s music and Black Sabbath and all that kind of stuff, it was an amazing moment.” Interviewing icons While Madrid never scored an on-air chat with Ozzy, he’s interviewed a slew of metal heavyweights. Some have been hilarious, like when Marilyn Manson nicknamed him “DJ ‘Tits’ Madrid” in 2012. Others were more moving, like his backstage Rock Solid from p 20 >> p 24 Fitz Madrid at Peoria’s Silver Dragon Games. (Fitz Madrid)
