Month: August 1998

A Family Affair

8/28/1998

The changing landscape of our business has generated a ripple effect that washes over all employees…from the president’s office right down to the sanitation engineers.  Being “well-read” in our industry once was quantified by a familiarity with trade publications.  Now, our majority pours over the Wall Street Journal.  Not long ago, a radio company could only own 12 stations total.  Soon, many will own that number in one market.  Record companies were owned by independent raconteurs who built their labels on a love of music and an astute business sense.  Today, most are owned by large conglomerates.  The music of choice is that generated by bells ringing on the cash register.

It’s big business, baby, and like it or not, we’re a part of it.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  Big business brings an entire package.  Pockets are deeper for promotion, marketing, research and development.  In the short term, even the salaries are higher. But there is no free lunch.

Creativity can suffer.  Individualism is harder to maintain.  A Family Affair is no longer the company song.

In a relatively short time, we’ve gone from, “Your loyalty is being rewarded,” to “What have you done for me lately?”

Today, the catch-phrase is “What are you going to do for me tomorrow?”

Remember when we had those “five-year plans?”  With companies changing hands so quickly while stocks rise and fall like a Love Rollercoaster, those “five-year plans” are mostly obsolete.  If you’re lucky, it’s more like five months, or in some cases, five weeks.  And depending on how you answer questions in the department head meeting, it could be five minutes.

Record companies were once looked upon with envy by those in radio.  Where programmers notched their belts and judged their worth on the number of times they were fired, record executives couldn’t relate.  Most had never been terminated.

It’s hard to believe that from a personnel standpoint, radio is more stable than the record business.  More record executives have lost their jobs in the past few years than in the history of the industry.  And it’s not going to get any better.

Conglomerates are buying more stations and record companies.  For this concept to work, operating expenses must be cut.  Don’t believe that this means getting rid of a few computers and phone lines.  We’re talking about people.

This had to change the way we feel about our jobs.  There was a time, in the not so distant past, that people worked for people.  I wrote many letters to new employees that began, “Welcome to the (KHJ, WRKO, KFRC, etc.) family.”  Those words can’t be used today.  It’s all about business.  Family has nothing to do with it.

All of us need mentors.  As baby deejays or fledgling record executives, we need older, wiser, smarter people to teach us the ways of our business.  Those of us who have attained some measure of success can look back on those who helped shape our future.  Then, we can use the knowledge that we gain to pass along to others.

I was lucky.  I had three people who helped shaped my world:  Buzz Bennett, who taught me that creativity was the root of all success; Paul Drew, who passed along his passion for careful planning and execution; and Gary Stevens, who instilled an understanding of the business part of the puzzle.  Without all three of these lessons, my accomplishments would have been much less.  Creativity without planning and execution is a play without words.  Creativity, planning and execution, without a knowledge of how the three combine within the structure of business, is as worthless as a sail on a power boat.

Today, it’s more difficult to find mentors.  Too often, those with the knowledge are too busy moving their company ahead to take time to share and teach.

As for those needing to be mentored, it’s tough in today’s workplace.  There is no sense of family.  The motivating atmosphere is more a fear of failure rather than an excitement to succeed.

We need to understand the business and our part in it.  We all got into this business because of love.  We love music and we love the excitement of the entertainment industry.  That’s what drew us into our jobs in the first place.  Now, we’re driven by a company that is more about profit and loss than a love of music.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing.  It’s just reality.

We must be self-motivated.  We must continue to nurture the love we have within the framework of a business environment.  We should still work for and derive a great deal of pride from making our bosses satisfied, but the greater pride should come from within because of a job well-done.

If you work only to get accolades from the person in charge, you’re dooming yourself to disappointment.  The boss could be gone tomorrow.

Judge your worth and accomplishments on how you’re fulfilling your own goals.  Take pride in yourself.  But don’t confuse your job with your family.  It’s a job.  A good one, but nevertheless, just a job.

When you’re done for the day, then you can go home and sing all night long…that’s a family tradition.

VP

8/7/1998

A few incidents in the past couple of weeks have reminded me that record promotion is harder than ever.  Consultants control more and more programmers.  It seems every station has a deal with an independent.  Radio conglomerates are buying more stations daily making programmers more concerned with their longevity and tighter with their lists.  Callout research, once a tool, is becoming the mitigating factor in airplay.  BDS makes a “favor” add impossible. SoundScan completely nullifies sales hype.

What’s a promotion executive to do?

I’ve used a lot of ink and killed many trees in past Editorials on how to cope with each of the difficulties mentioned above.  But a new problem seems to be raising its ugly head of late.

Promotion VPs, whose time is consumed with meetings and memos that often have little to do with getting records played and building relationships with programmers, have been forgetting the little things that can quickly turn into the Big Bad Wolf.

PDs are running into the same time-spent-concentrating (on the real issues) problem.  It’s difficult to get a PD to take a phone call, rare when one returns an e-mail, rarer still when a PD accepts a dinner invitation and almost impossible for a major PD to attend the showcase of a new artist.

Too often, when we have a PD in our pocket for an evening, a situation that could be the genesis of a new relationship, a growing measure of respect or an early add turns out to be the exact opposite.

Why?  Lack of planning or just complete stupidity.  Promotion VPs, and their soldiers, Sometimes forget the two words: homework and legwork.

When a programmer agrees to attend a showcase, VPs should treat this like a troop movement.  A PD is giving up valuable time to show respect to a record company. Rarely has a PD heard of the new act.  Seldom does a PD really want to give up a night off because the act has a buzz.  In nearly every situation, a programmer attends a record company function out of respect to the company or the promotion executive.  This is a VP’s time to shine, but only if you run the event.  It all goes to hell if you let the event run you.

Dealing with today’s Mainstream artists, whether established or new, is always a pain in the ass.  For the most part, artists don’t care about PDs.  They care about sound, lights and the audience…and what color M&Ms are served in the dressing room.  There is a reason Country artists have a longer lifespan than those in other genres.  Country artists, no matter how big or small, make sure PDs are welcomed at every opportunity.  Country artists are usually pouring the drinks at the pre-show meet-and-greet.  Mainstream artists are more likely to show up late in a bad mood, anxious to get everything over with because nothing is more important than their “art.”

Their “art” is worthless unless it’s heard by the masses.  It won’t be heard unless programmers play it.  And it won’t get played if a PD has a bad experience at a showcase.  A promotion executive can’t control an artist.  It’s impossible.  But homework and legwork can take command of the situation.

If a PD agrees to attend an appearance by your artist, start your homework.  What kind of artist are you showcasing?  Is the artist pleasant?  Does the artist truly care if a programmer will be in attendance?  Will the artist be on time?

If it’s possible, sit down with the artist and explain the importance of a PD’s attendance.  Convince the artist that homage needs to be paid.  If this is impossible, then take charge of the logistics to make sure the evening will be pleasant for the PD.

If your artist is prone to be late, doesn’t care about a meet-and-greet or is on a strict time schedule, make alternate plans.  Treat the programmer to a great dinner before the show.  This way, you control the situation.  Over dinner, you can extol the virtues of the artist.  The PD doesn’t need to meet an artist to be impressed.  Most of the time, PDs don’t even want to have their picture taken with the artist.  If you can’t work it out so that it’s easy and painless for both parties, don’t bother.

Make sure the show begins on time.  While you’re having dinner, check with your local rep waiting at the venue.  If the show is running late, order another bottle of wine.  Don’t make a PD wait for a showcase or you’ll be waiting when you want the add.  It’s quid pro quo to the max and if you don’t believe it, you should get into another business.

“Don’t worry, the PD will understand,” is an overstatement bordering on the absurd.  PDs don’t understand.  If you believe differently, you’re living in a subjective dream world of adolescence incapable of comprehending your own environment.

After you’ve done your work and planned the evening to the exact second, things outside of your responsibility can cause the evening to spin out of control like a psychotic horse racing toward a burning barn. In this case, improvise.  But as you improvise, remember that the PDs pleasure is your only objective.  I recently witnessed a perfect example.  Columbia Sr. VP Promotion Jerry Blair made careful plans for a group of PDs to have  wonderful evening with Mariah Carey.  Nothing was left to chance.  Then, everything went wrong.  Rain poured during the concert, prolonging the event.  Afterwards, at a scheduled party, the weather played havoc.  Mariah was to meet the PDs after MTV appearance.  MTV took forever.  The PDs were left waiting.

Blair didn’t assume that the PDs would understand.  He went to work.  Blair personally reopened the bar and began pouring drinks.  He made the time-spent-waiting as comfortable as possible.  Next, he arranged for Mariah to make an unscheduled appearance in his suite back at the hotel just for the programmers.  And he didn’t stop there.  The next week, he was on the phone to all of the PDs apologizing for the inconvenience and giving them additional promotions.  He left nothing to chance.

Is this why Mariah’s next record was most added?  You be the judge.

Rest assured, PDs judge promotion executives under the column headed “time-spent-worthwhile.”  If you believe differently, you’re a VP, all right.

Very pathetic.