Author: gerry

1/14/1994

So I’m sitting in Le Dome with a couple of other outlaws watching the ponies run. A money-winner stops near our table briefly and searches the bar with her eyes. Being a true, Southern gentleman, I quickly recognize a lady in distress and come to her rescue… whether she wants me to or not.

“You’re obviously looking for someone,” I say as I stand up and give her a bow. Then, making a grand, sweeping gesture with my hand, I continue, “Why don’t you join me for a drink until your companion arrives?”

She, of course, agrees (what woman wouldn’t) and sits down at the table.

My friends were speechless. I, of course, wasn’t, as I find myself in these situations quite often. I began to impress the lady with a glowing recitation of my pedigree, being careful to mix in enough information on current events to let her know I’m intelligent. Spotting a Warner Brothers logo on her jacket, I jump quickly into a monologue on how tight I am with the record moguls. She tells me she works for the movie company. I shift gears smoothly and explain how I have a movie deal with Warner Brothers on my book, “Payola!” Her eyes brighten up; I think I may have gone over the line (besides, she could check up on it) so I quickly amend my statement to say I have a deal pending. She, unfortunately, isn’t stupid and knows the key word in that sentence is “pending.”

About the time I figure I’m making real headway (which also coincides with the arrival of her drink) she stands and says, “There’s my date.”

I look across the room and see the ugly gnome this beautiful woman is meeting. “You’re leaving me for this guy?” I say incredulously.

She tosses her head back and gives me a quick look over her shoulder. “Call me when you’ve got a deal.”

Don’t you just love L.A?

Which brings me to the point of this Editorial. (If there every really is a point.) In our business, we seldom hear the word, “no.” We hear a lot of other words combined in different scenarios that mean the same thing, but rarely do we hear “no.”

In an industry that thrives on information like almost no other, where insider knowledge is almost as important as it is on Wall Street, where all people really want is an answer… even it it’s the wrong answer, we don’t hear “no” a lot.

No doubt we get the same result. But it’s often more painful. And certainly more drawn out.

Are we afraid of hurting someone’s feelings? Are we afraid of making a decision? Are we afraid of an argument? Are we so used to dodging and dancing that we just don’t know how?

Come on. If Nancy Reagan can just say no, can’t we?

But we are innovative, aren’t we? Do any of these ring a bell?

Callers you don’t want to talk with get the following no’s.

He’s in a meeting. He just left for lunch. He was here just a second ago; now I can’t find him. He’s in the bathroom. He’s in production. He’s in with the general manager. He’s not taking any calls. He was just taken to the hospital.

How about the program director run-around when you’re looking for an add?

It looks good for next week. I don’t have a copy of the CD. It’s a little slow and I’m really ballad-heavy. My general manager is really giving me a hassle about Rap product. I’m sure it’s not going to be a problem. The consultant is giving me a hassle. Let me listen to it again. I’m not getting good feedback. Let me think about it and get right back to you. I’m freezing this week. Call me back at two o’clock. I’m concerned about the stationality. I can’t talk now, I have to go to the hospital.

If you’re the head of promotion and you’re trying to get an answer from your LPM, you’ve certainly heard one of the following:

I really think we’ve got a shot. The guy’s a real asshole, but he said he would listen to it one more time. He’s only going to add two records and two other companies are offering him trips to Paris and thousands of dollars in cash…and a time buy. He’s trying to get his general manager to approve it. He really likes the record. I know I’m in the mix, but the indy will probably bump it. He’s in the hospital, I’m trying to get through to the emergency room.

If you’re a program director and have asked a favor from a record company, have you heard this?

The CDs haven’t arrived…there must be a problem at the plant. I don’t know what happened…I left the tickets at will call. I’ll overnight you a copy. I never got the message. My assistant must have fucked it up. I’m sorry, I’ve been in the hospital.

Damn, we’re a verbose group. We’ll always use a sentence when a word would suffice. Not me. When someone asked if last weeks Editorial about independent record promoters was the last one I would write on that subject, I gave them the answer.

No.

1/7/1994

Question: How many independents does it take to get a record on a major radio station?

The answer in the 1980s was 11. One to get the add and 10 others to call it in.

The answer in the 1990s could be: What’s an independent? With few exceptions, record companies are changing the way they’ve been doing business with independent record promoters. Already gone are the automatic payments that begin when a radio station attains parallel status. Going is the seven-four-three equation that has been in place for the better part of a decade. Calling in the add just ain’t gonna cut it anymore.

Record companies aren’t going to accept someone else’s criteria of which stations are important any longer. The record companies will be making those decisions…and treating the stations and the independent representatives accordingly.

Paper adds will be a thing of the past. With the advent of BDS and Plays Per Week, playlists won’t be a deciding factor in record in record company remuneration.

Play for pay is back…with a vengeance. And the emphasis is on play.

If it’s not on the radio in a decent rotation, record companies won’t care. Isn’t that the way it should be?

Anyone interested in maintaining the status quo is living in a subjective dream world. Change has begun. Already. Be a part of the future or you are doomed to become a relic of the  past.

So, how does this change in record company relevance affect you? If you’re in radio, you may not feel it…unless you’re a station that gets promotional and marketing dollars from independent record promoters in exchange for providing early adds. Or unless you’re a radio station that adds songs to your playlist without playing them. Or unless you’re a radio station in a smaller market that keeps a tight list and doesn’t influence record sales.

To quote that great line from the movie Planes, Trains And Automobiles, if you fall into one of these categories, “you’re fucked.” And quite frankly, if this is the case, you should be.

Why did we come up with a plan for independent record promoters to pay radio stations for the privilege of getting their adds early? In the strictest sense of the word, it might be legal, but it certainly isn’t right. And why have record companies paid independents for this information? In almost all cases, the independents involved don’t have any direct influence over the record adds on these stations. They just get them early. In the future, it’s not going to be enough.

Independents are going to be held accountable for their input. If they can get records played, they will be paid. And they should be. But just getting information early won’t wash. What will count?

Yank.

Before BDS and PPW, in independent could influence a record’s success by kee;ing it off a station’s playlist. It was an easy call for the program director. He could help the independent by not reporting the record. It didn’t hurt the PD because he could play it anyhow. The only way a record was measured was by its position on playlists. Not anymore. Keeping a record off a playlist doesn’t matter any longer. BDS and PPWs count airplay. And record companies are depending on BDS and PPWs. Not playlits.

If you’re in a BDS market, your airplay is an open book. What if you’re in a non-BDS market and don’t report PPWs? You can run, but you can’t hide. Record companies are not going to provide promotional or independent dollars to stations that don’t report PPWs. It’s not a threat on their part. It’s a fact. The simple train of thought is that if you don’t report PPW, your playlist must not be accurate. If you’re playing games with your list, record companies are not going to support you or your independent in the long run.

If you aren’t in a BDS market and you aren’t providing your PPWs, you should do so immediately. Once a record company makes a decision to downgrade your importance based on your inability to provide accurate information, it will be that much harder to convince them you’ve changed by providing PPWs after the fact. Do it now.

Before R&R’s parallel system (that made small stations with no impact on record sales as important as larger stations that impacted sales heavily), record companies looked to smaller markets to break acts. Radio stations in smaller markets were quicker to react to promotions and releases by new artists than those in the highly competitive major markets. In the parallel system, many of these stations become more interested in their status than the music and relationships with record companies. Lists shrank and adds tightened as much as on major market stations. Record companies were forced to find ways to break acts on larger stations in larger markets. Now, they need smaller stations less and less.

If you’re in a smaller market, it’s up to you to make yourself important to the record community again. Not by being claimed by an independent, but by committing to an open relationship with record companies. Remember the old saying, “Be nice to the people who are paid to be nice to you?” It’s going to be even more important in the future. Because these people are going to control the promotions and the audiences these promotions can attract.

As record companies change their way of doing business, independents won’t be able to afford to augment station budgets in return for early adds. In the 1990s, it won’t be the relationship with the general manager, but the program director that will matter.

To survive and prosper, independents will have to become involved in the msic they promote and the stations they work. No longer can they just take on projects. They might even have to know whether specific records are right for particular radio stations and their formats. Perish the thought!

Good independents will always be welcomed by both radio and records. But the day of the auctioneers are gone. Independents will have to influence the radio stations they claim. And the radio stations will have to have influence…with larger stations who watch what they do, with their audience who will purchase the records they play and with record companies who trust their lists because the provide Plays Per Week.

Simply put, for both independents and radio stations in the 1990s: No yank? No yen!

12/17/1993

Dear Santa,

I know it’s been a while since I’ve written. I apologize, but the year got in my way. And what a year, eh, Santa? It seems like only yesterday that I arrived at The Network Forty. Can you believe it’s been 10 months since I wrote my first Editorial? Remember? The one about “Big Brother” being R&R? Remember how many in the industry laughed? Especially those at R&R? They didn’t know I did my homework, did they Santa? They didn’t know that my thoughts weren’t only my own, but were shared by the majority in radio. Time always tells, doesn’t it, Santa? Who would have thought a year ago that Bobby Poe would be doing more business than R&R?

Thanks for all those hit Top 40 records this year, Santa. I know Top 40 is your favorite format. Can you send some more of those for Christmas?

While I’m writing, Santa, would you mind if I gave you some gift hints for a few people in the record industry? I’m sure they won’t write (most of them don’t know how), but I know what they need.

For Burt Baumgartner, a happy, healthy baby girl with Christine’s looks and personality. A red light for Blair so he’ll know when to stop talking. (Oh, never mind. It won’t matter.) Give Jim Burruss anything he wants. Let the Bulldogs have a better year for John Fagot. But let them lost to Ole Miss for Blalock. Let Barb find true love (and let it be me). And how bout a step ladder for Connone? Send Polly something from Garland. And let Hillary visit the West Coast more often.

Can we get Bisceglia to stop speaking in “strobe” talk? And Schoen a big raise? A welcome mat for Stoney’s new digs on the West Coast would be nice. Get Geslin a hat. Any hat. And another program director who plays golf for Justin. Some more time for Andrea so she can return phone calls. A complete recovery for Joe. And a parking space for Danny?

Stu needs a much bigger office, Santa. And Barney and I both need hard hats for those “special” days when the volume gets turned up real loud. A case of Jose for Fitzgerald. And another good sushi bar. How about a bow tie that lights up for Ratner? And tell all the trades his first name is spelled Marc. Can you give Pfordresher a new name? And tell him the Bulls are dead without Michael. Another Mike, Becce, needs RuPaul’s wardrobe sized so he can wear some of the pastel dresses. He looks so cute in that off-the-shoulder number.

Could you bring Lambert a new toupee? The one he’s been wearing is getting kind of crusty. Val needs nothing; she’s perfect just the way she is. A case of cheap wine for Kevin. He’s getting kind of cheesy with that wine connoisseur act. A bigger expense account for Leavitt so he’ll stop the T.I.G. Friday’s thing. More lunches at the Ivy for Bennett. And more acts to promote for Coburn.

Will you ask Hollywood to stop making Brenda wear the Minnie Mouse outfit at Disneyland during the weekends? She’s really good at it, but enough is enough. And require Lopes to dress in jeans every other day. One Charlie is enough. Tell Leshay he doesn’t really look like Jesus and also tell him the new gig allows him to call anybody “dude.” Don’t let Bob Garland pick up another tab at the Four Seasons. Actually, you don’t need to worry. After we stuck him with the last one, he’ll be staying at the Holiday Inn. Give Daniel Glass a faster time in the next marathon. Tell him Billy Brill is chasing him; that’ll work. Let Brodey and Carlton have giant years.

Give Butch a hint of a northern accent. He’s sounding too much like my father. And how about a cut and trim for Skip? This retro thing is getting out of hand. Don’t give Barbis anything. He’s got all a man could need…including Hix. Ditto Riccitelli. And give Vicki and Linda anything they want.

More golf time for Leach. He doesn’t play nearly enough. And keep Szulinski off the course. Satter’s way too Jive. I don’t know what to give him. Send Benesch the name of a bail bondsman who will trade for CDs. And a good computer for Lynch. Ashes and switches for Plen. He’s been a bad boy. For Tenenbaum, the keys to the MCA jet. And let him get to use it any time he wants. Don’t worry about Gorlick, Santa. I’ll give him my scrapbook of the “good old days” so he can pretend he was a part of it.

I know R&R has very little to do with the radio and record industries any more, but let’s throw them a bone anyhow. They will be asking for that monitor system again, just like they’ve been asking you for the past three years. Go ahead and put it in their stocking, Santa. It’s the only way they’re going to get it. Let Dave Sholin come to The Network Forty so people will be able to read the stuff he writes. For Barry? A shallow lake so he can finally walk on water. On second thought, I’ll take care of him. It is, after all, a personal thing.

And for McClusky? How about a little yank?

For the staff of The Network Forty, don’t listen to their pleas for a kinder, gentler boss. It ain’t gonna happen. But bring Pat a pennant for any New York team. A date…any date…for Dwayne. (Good luck on that one, Santa.) A clean, new lefet foot for Jeff. Bring Wendi a copy of “Single White Female;” Kilgo a plain, khaki cache shirt. A split personality for Jenna. A tan for Karen. A wedding for Josie. More MCA ads for Tricia, a staff that hits deadlines for Jodi and a real man for Sarah.

For our friends in radio, thank them, Santa, for all their support. They’ve made The Network Forty the fastest growing trade magazine in history.

Give them everything they ask for.

12/3/1993

Gatherings of our clan are unique occurrences. Is there any group as adept as those in the entertainment business at making small talk about absolutely nothing? Let’s face it. The useless information quotient redlines after five minutes with any select few.

It’s a product of our environment, I assume. Most really don’t have a choice except to babble on in a group. It wasn’t long ago that our jobs were part and parcel of meeting and eating with our counterparts, whether record or radio. Now, it’s hard to take a phone call, much less schedule a face-to-face conversation. There are too many other meetings inside the building.

What’s going on here?

Last week’s Editorial struck a chord with many about the relationships between programmers and record promotion people. Many programmers said they would value establishing relationships, but they never get the chance. More often than not, their contact with record company representatives comes through a phone call. Or fax.

What happened to the personal appearance?

The job had changed. And the people.

When I programmed KHJ Los Angeles in the mid-‘70s, there would be 60 record people in the lobby on music day. And lunches and dinners throughout the week. In the early ‘80s when I programmed KFRC in San Francisco, 30 would be lined up. And a couple of lunches and dinners would be scheduled each week. In the mid-‘80s at WAPP New York, maybe 10 would be there. There weren’t any lunches. Maybe a dinner. And in 1990 at KWOD in Sacramento, we were lucky if we saw one person a month. Dinners? Forget about it.

In three years at KWOD, I never met half of the record company representatives who were based in San Francisco, less than 90 miles away. Boys and girls, personal contact isn’t an option, it’s mandatory. And should be consistent. Whatever happened to road trips?

Get out of the office. Make more visits and fewer telephone calls. Every promotion person should have a calendar with consistent personal appointments with those in the assigned territory. And heads of promotion should study those calendars and make LPMs accountable. You can’t develop relationships if they don’t know who you are.

What if the programmer refuses to meet with you? What if you can’t get in to see him? Then you should resign. Or be fired. You’re paid to develop relationships. Find a way.

It’s really simple. If you aren’t meeting with your radio contacts on a consistent basis, you aren’t doing your job.

So it all boils down to group meetings at conventions. Or Parties. Or other record companies’ functions. I swear, at most record company showcases, you see more employees of other record companies than you do radio people. And it becomes a feeding frenzy.

When did you get in? Where are you staying? I’ve been trying to call you for weeks. I’ve been meaning to talk with you for a while. What are you doing afterwards? Do you want to grab a quick drink somewhere quiet where we can talk?

And all of this without eye contact. Because the gazes are over shoulders, checking the room to see if there’s someone more important. It’s all bullshit. And easy to see through. Plastic meetings in plastic places always melt in the heat of the real world.

Nowhere is this trait more prevalent than in Los Angeles, the land of shallow waters… and people. Even outside the finite world of radio and records, it exists in spades. Only in El Lay is the artist less important than the people who might be present. Nobody watches the stage. They check out the audience to see who’s there.

And even the audience is reduced to the parallel system. Lesser-known stars or bit players aren’t important. You must spot large and larger players as you move up the food chain.

And, of course, you’re always out to bag the big one. It ain’t a great party unless “he’s” there. And it doesn’t count if you don’t see “him.”

Who is “he?”

It depends on where you are. In New York, it’s Donald. In Miami, Gloria. In Minneapolis, it’s Prince. But in L.A. and everywhere else, for that matter, it’s not Jeff or Rick or Keith or Kevin. It’s Jack.

Jack Nicholson.

Everyone’s always looking for Jack. For star gazers it’s a full-time occupation. For all of us at concerts or parties, it’s at least part-time work. Colin Hay, former lead singer of Men At Work, even wrote a song about it. (He never saw Jack, either.)

Not long ago, I caught him. Nailed the bastard in the Monkey Bar in Beverly Hills. The thrill of a lifetime for a Mississippi-born hillbilly. The sheer excitement of it all made me temporarily insane enough to walk right up to him.

“I’ve been looking for you, Jack,” I said, grinning like a mule eating briars.

He flashed a smile back. “Hey, and I’ve been looking for you.”

Jack Nicholson looking for me? I was stunned. But only for a moment. Until he slapped me gently on the cheek and said, “Get me a white wine, will you?”

From the penthouse to the outhouse in less than a minute.

Don’t you just love L.A.?

11/26/1993

Be kind to those people who are being paid to be kind to you.

Some years ago, the esteemed Bill Gavin uttered that quote when he was questioned as to how radio should treat record promotion people. Years later, conflict still exists between those who play the records and those who promote them. And Bill Gavin’s quote rings louder than ever.

For a program director, never is the contradiction of his job more pronounced that in his dealings with record promotion people. For the promotion people, the relationship and job description are pretty well defined. It is their job to work their way into a program director’s office, into his heart and onto his playlist. It’s really simple. Do what it takes to get the record added.

For a program director, it’s not nearly that simple.

A program director’s job is to choose the music that’s right for the station. What is right and what is not so right is almost always undefined. Adding records to a playlist is usually a subjective judgment at best.

In the past few weeks, I’ve talked to several program directors who were confused about this relationship. “Doesn’t his guy understand the record is not for my radio station?” “Why is the record company pushing so hard on this record?” “Some guy is even threatening to pull service if I don’t play his record.”

Just as many who do record promotion have posed questions from the other side of the fence. “Why won’t this guy play my record? It’s perfect for his station.” “After all we’ve done for this guy, I can’t believe he’s not on this record.”

The answers to these questions depend on your relationship with people who do record promotion.

If you’re a program director who has never asked for a promotion, has never asked for a group to play at a station function, has never asked a record company to pick up the tab to fly your listeners somewhere to see an act, has never accepted a record company invitation to travel to hear a particular recording artist perform, then you have a very definable relationship. The record people who promote you are free to present their product to you with an emphasis on promotion and not pressure.

If, however, you’re a program director who asks for promotions (hey, it’s not a sin…sometimes you have no choice…if your station’s budget requires it, you’ve got to go for it), if you’ve asked for a group to play at a station function, if you’ve asked for a record company to pick up the tab for winners to travel to hear a recording artist or you’ve done the same, then you’re open to pressure as well as promotion.

As a program director, you must understand where the pressure comes from. In almost all of the cases, the person you ask for the favor doesn’t have the power to grant it. The local promotion manager will have to ask his boss for approval of an expenditure for the station. Before the boss approves it, he almost always asks questions…questions you might not be aware of. Will the program director “pay back” the favor? Can we depend on him in the future? Will this solidify the relationship?

If the LPM answer yes (and be assured he will answer yes…he is, after all, in promotion), then the VP who okays the promotion will expect favors in the future.

As a program director, it is very easy for you to avoid problems in your relationships with promotion people. Be honest and upfront in all of your dealings. If you need a promotion, explain your needs. If the promotion person can help you, be specific in asking what the record company wants in return. Don’t be, or allow the promotion person to be, ambiguous. Find out exactly what is expected of you in return and then determine whether or not the price is too high.

If you’re a promotion person, do the same. If it’s a favor, explain that. If you expect something in return, outline your expectations. Later, when you feel the program director owes you and he doesn’t share the feeling, your ambiguity may very well harm a relationship that could have been maintained.

The biggest problem in relationships between program directors and promotion people is ambiguity. Be upfront and relations will improve.

As a program director, you can’t ask for favors, even little ones, without having a payback. As a record promotion person, makes sure the program director understands that there must be a give-and-take when favors are extended.

As for relationships in general, I’ve found that the more educated the promotion person, the better for the relationship. Do you want promotion people to understand your station and philosophy? Take the time to explain it to them. It won’t take long. They’re intelligent people. If you take a few minutes to explain how you work, what segment of the audience you’re trying to attract and how you’re working to position the station, you might be surprised at what you get back. Promotion people are looking for an edge. Educate them about your station and it could come back to you in a big way as they look for and design promotions that are specific for your needs.

You don’t have the time? Make time. It’s your business to carve out an edge in every facet of this business.

Promotion people should take time to listen to the stations they service. Try and find out what the program director is looking for and fill that need. Spend time with the program director when you’re not working a specific record. Nothing impresses program directors more than when you say you don’t have a particular record for them this week. Or how about pulling them off a record when you know it’s fried? Those little things create more good will than 10 promotions.

Both sides shouldn’t kid themselves. Relationships are important. If you’re a program director who thinks you don’t need relationships with record company representatives, you’re wrong. The same goes the other way. We’re in this business together. Handled correctly, the relationships can help both ends of our business.

As a program director, be honest in your expectations and your ability to pay back the favors. I always said it’s the record company representative’s job to ask, it’s the program director’s job to say no. However, if the program director asks, it’s the record company representative’s job to say yes. Although that’s supposed to be a joke, many program directors take it as a fact!

If, as a program director, you’re upfront with record promotion people who are still pressuring you about records you don’t believe in, make a proposition. Tell them that you don’t believe in their record, but if they are sure it’s a hit, you will add it. If it turns out to be a hit, everything is fine. If it turns out to be a stiff, they can never again promote you on any record. In other words, if they are willing to bet their future on this one record, you’ll take their word for it.

Their answer will determine your future relationship.

Honest give-and-take…that’s the best policy.

Or a stack of $100 bills about six inches tall!

10/19/1993

Thanksgiving is a time for reflecting…reflecting on the good things that have been bestowed upon us in the past year. So before we sit down to cut our R&R, I mean, turkey, let me give thanks.

First of all, to the superstars who released hit records in the past few weeks. It’s amazing what hits can do for Top 40 radio.

To Madonna and Prince for being so prolific. If all superstar acts would release as many records as they do, Top 40 would be feeling a lot better.

To R&R and those who work there for giving me so much to write about.

To the people of radio in general who have been so responsive to the efforts of The Network Forty staff and who helped us created a new, innovative positive reflector of our medium.

To the people of the record community who have supported our efforts, even sometimes at their personal expense. Change, particularly in our business, is often talked about, but seldom acted upon. The Network Forty has created a lot of controversy in the past few months when we trumpeted change as a way to improve our industry’s prospects for the future. To back away from the controversy would have been easy. To stand and be a part of it was sometimes touch. We appreciate those who took a stand.

To particular friends in the radio and record communities who have worked with us to create a magazine that everyone is now calling special.

To Cher, for having the guts, sense of humor and intelligence to cut a record with Beavis and Butt-Head. And to Geffen for releasing it.

To The Network Group publishers for biting the bullet and letting us plow ahead against the advice of their lawyers. And for never once editing this space, even though I know at times they wanted to.

To Burt Baumgartner for all the obvious reasons…and many more not so obvious.

To Tommy Nast of The Album Network who helped me realize that in spite of everything, we would still get the magazine out…relatively on time.

To Bruce Tenenbaum for taking me to the fight.

To Mr. Ed Lambert for never saying anything negative about anyone…at least not for publication.

To Barry Fiedel for all those mentions at his last convention.

To Alternative Editor Karen Holmes for taking me to see Ministry…3^rd row, center stage.

To Lonnie Gordon for bringing out the freak in me. (Though it wasn’t buried too deeply!)

To Music Director/Crossover Editor Wendi Cermak for interpreting all the rap lyrics.

To Steve Kingston for helping to bring Alternative into the Mainstream and for being my first Network Forty interview.

To Kevo for The Chrome Lizard.

To The Chrome Lizard for getting all the gossip. It’s amazing what people will tell an animal.

To Scott Shannon for honestly sharing his thoughts and ideas for so many years.

For all the nekkid ladies who graced Page 6.

To Richard Palmese and Don Ienner for not staying mad too long.

To the dog that still won’t hunt.

To Keith Naftaly for taking my phone calls.

To Steve Wyrostok and the others who went public and wrote letters about the restrictive policies of R&R.

To Jerry Blair for sleeping through Page6…and to Iris Dillon for not.

To the moles at R&R.

To Jon Leshay for giving Bob Garland a job.

To Xscape and all the other  performers who “unplugged” in our atrium.

To all the night people who religiously phoned in their overnight requests.

To Barney, Kenny and the other thieves who participate in the poker games at my house.

To Marc Benesch for taking the time to explain to me how it works…again and again.

To Mark Gorlick and Marc Rather for their input and ideas.

To Brenda Romano, who gave me my first ad and who I would marry if it wasn’t for Miss November.

To Steve Leavitt for the stunning meal at the Conclave.

To Dave Sholin for giving me the gossip he won’t print.

To Ben Fog-Torres for calling me the “Prince of Pulp.”

To Michael Plen for the famous, “Double Buy.”

To Jeff Wyatt for the longest pool game in history.

To Butch and Skip for being from the South.

To Murdock for The Palm.

To Polly and Barb for helping me with the mugger in Central Park.

To Rick Bisceglia for “Ladies and Gentlemen…Jeffry Osbourne.”

To Burruss for five o’clock.

To Rip Pelly, Bill Richards, Justin Fontaine and Bill Pfordresher for not being good enough to beat me at golf.

To Blaylock for graduating from Ole Miss and to Fagot because the Bulldogs suck.

To Andrea for the gentle conversation.

To Satter for the Jive.

To Leach because he isn’t one.

To Joey cause we always work it out and we both work for lunatics.

To the loon.

To Craig Lambert and Ritch Bloom for being tall.

To “Please Advise” for not doing so too often.

To Rich Fitzgerald for the tequila.

To Barbis for not hiring me at Polygram and pawning me off to Bird.

To Les Garland, my life partner in a relentless pursuit of anything and everything.

To Gary Bird for signing me to a seven-year deal. (It was only after I read the contract that I realized they were “dog” years and I would be treated as such.)

To being single and semi-wealthy in Los Angeles.

And to my Grandfather, who owned several “real” newspapers, who taught me how to write quality journalism and who, at this very minute, is spinning in his grave.

11/5/1993

I’m confused. Again. Most of you who read this column already know that I get confused from time to time. Usually when it concerns R&R. But this time, I’m really confused.

It’s hard enough for me to understand a Hitmakers convention. It’s harder still to comprehend a Hitmakers convention with R&R publisher Bob Wilson as a featured speaker. Excuse me, but what is this all about?

Why are radio programmers asked to pay to participate in a gathering sponsored by one trade magazine to hear another trade magazine make a sales pitch? Hey, maybe it’s a merger.

Now I get it. It’s like those Miller Lite commercials you see on television. If they can combine great taste and less filling, we could do it with R&R and Hitmakers. Let’s see, if you combine Bob Wilson with Barry Fiedel, you get Barry Fiedel with shoes on. If you combine the back page of R&R with the front cover on Hitmakers, you get a back page that you have to pay for. And if you combine the Hitmakers Discovery Club with R&R’s vapor-ware, they might just discover an on-line system that offers hype and speculation.

Wilson has cracked. For years, he has sat upon the top of the heap, content with making money at the expense of radio. Have any of you in radio ever heard from Bob Wilson? Has he ever called to offer you help or advice? Would any of you recognize his face or voice? It’s doubtful. Up to now, he’s been as accessible as the Wizard of Oz.

Now, facing an industry that has lost faith in R&R and its entire process, the mountain comes to Mohammed in an effort to sell us the Holy Grail. Bob Wilson, unfortunately, believes that just because he tells us something, we’ll believe it. My question is: Where has he been the last 20 years? If Bob Wilson and R&R had been attentive to the problems of radio and concerned about the industry in the past, they wouldn’t have to resort to a misguided, 11^th-hour plea for support and understanding. Where have you been, Joe DiMaggio, when the industry complained and pleaded with you to change the reporting status of radio stations? Where were you hiding when radio asked for clarification on reporting guidelines? Why did you not care that your system welcomed corruption and choked the record industry into a pattern that rewarded “reported” record play with no correlation to sales?

Bob Wilson was making money, that’s where he was. And as long as the cash flowed, the system continued. So why is he now, like a Scientology recruiter, speaking to an assemblage of radio programmers to hype his heralded vapor-ware? Because the radio and record industries have finally rebelled against R&R’s dictatorial approach. This has caused R&R to lose power and with the loss of power comes the loss of money. Dwindling power and decreasing revenues brings Bob Wilson to the Hitmakers convention.

Does Bob Wilson believe that just because he is the founder and publisher of R&R, the industry will embrace his empty promises with open arms? With all due respect, Joel Denver has done an admirable job in selling the coming of vapor-ware. It wasn’t Joel’s fault that the system has been delayed and flawed for years. Hey, he’s just been following the company line. Empty promises are empty promises, no matter who delivers them. It ain’t the messenger, it’s the message.

Had R&R been listening to the industry instead of dictating to it, maybe this point would be moot. Welcome to the 90s, Bob. The industry isn’t buying hype and bullshit any more.

The emperor has no clothes.

Since I inexplicably wasn’t invited to participate in this gathering of the greedy, I won’t be in Hoot-lanta to pose questions to the podium. But if I was, here are some to ask, supplied by the readers of The Network Forty:

#1:  Please explain, in 500 words or less, the exact criteria for reporting status.

#2:  Why do you limit the number of reporting stations?

#3:  Why do you keep making promises about delivering this vapor-ware and not coming through?

#4:  How long would you allow a reporting station to promise to deliver information, then not doing it, before you wouldn’t accept anything reported by the station as fact?

#5:  Exactly when will this vapor-ware be available? (This answer is easy…it’s always “three months.”)

#6:  How much is this going to cost? I know the company line is that the software is free for the first year, but what about hard costs and telephone charges…and please spare us the MCI “Friends And Family” line.

#7:  Do you really think my life will change because I get “Street Talk” earlier? It’s useless information anyhow.

#8:  Why isn’t WPLJ (whose Scott Shannon was honored in R&R as the top programmer of the last 20 years) an R&R reporter?

#9:  Speaking of selling, R&R has been for sale for almost a year and no one has bought it. Why?

#10: Do you still insist on predicting Plays Per Week and do you think radio will participate?

Of course, the biggest question is when will the R&R monitor system go on line? Perhaps we’ll invite R&R to invite that question at the 1994 Network Forty convention. And 1995. And 1996. And 1997.

Most of us won’t be in Atlanta to hear Bob Wilson’s speech, but we won’t miss a thing. I’m sure, to quote from William Shakespeare’s “MacBeth,” “It will be a tale told by an idiot…full of sound and fury…signifying nothing.”