Book Review

2/2/1996 

One of the more interesting interviews you’ll read…and an interview that directly affects your livelihood is in this issue of Network 40. Pierre Bouvard, General Manager of Arbitron, gives his thoughts and answers questions that can help you do your job better.  A PD or MD can learn how to best program a radio station to achieve accurate ratings through the Arbitron methodology.  A promotion person can better understand a programmer’s needs in relation to the dreaded “ratings.”  As a programmer, I have felt the sting of Arbitron’s methodology.  That bad boy bites!

Mr. Bouvard makes some interesting points in his interview.  Whether you agree or disagree with some of his positions, one thing is certain:  Since his appointment as GM of the company, Arbitron has seemed to be more attentive to the needs of radio.  Many radio executives many question the end result of their discussions with Arbitron, but none can say that Arbitron doesn’t give radio a fair hearing.

Mr. Bouvard points out that bad radio makes for bad ratings.  An oversimplification, to say the least, but somewhat true, nonetheless.  If you have a radio station that is programmed correctly and aggressively, you’ll have more good books than bad.  However, Mr. Bouvard is fooling himself if he believes that just programming a successful radio station will generate a substantial gain in a ratings books.

Although Arbitron methodology shouldn’t be the primary focus in adding records, planning promotions and setting up format clocks, you certainly must take that methodology into consideration.  Programming “across the quarter-hours” may be an old wives’ tale to Mr. Bouvard, but as a piece of the pie. It always seemed to work.

A good PD will program a radio station to the audience through the methodology or Arbitron.

Why? Why not?

It certainly doesn’t hurt and, if only as a further attention to detail, it can and does help.

If you are going to be judged, not by how your station sounds but how well you do in the books of Arbitron, you have to play by those rules.  Arbitron uses certain techniques to get listeners to respond to a survey.  Make sure you’re aware of those techniques and use them yourself. 

Since Arbitron uses a recall method, it is extremely important that you ingrain in your listeners the “favorite” flavor.  By constant repetition, your listeners should be convinced that your station is their favorite.  It can’t be stated enough.

Contests and promotions should always have something similar to, What’s your favorite station?” as an integral part.  Force your listeners to identify your call letters as their favorite station.  Perceptions is reality.  Fool around all you want to with “The #1 Hit Music Station,” “Your Concert Connection,” or other slug-lines, but in recall methodology, the answer to “What’s your favorite radio station?” is going to win every time.

Since Arbitron asks participants to write down their listening habits, you should use this same methodology in contests.  On-going promotions that force your audience to listen over a period of time (like Cash Call, High-low, etc.) should be reinforced with the slogan, “Write it down.”

This is not to say that every contest you air should be tagged with that phrase, but having your listeners…and particularly the contest pigs and others who participate regularly in promotions…reinforced with the suggestions to “write it down” can only be a benefit.  Those who don’t play contests won’t be offended and those who do will be reminded.  If a diary falls into one of these households, you’re sure to benefit.

Any promotions that increase specific listening (such as those mentioned above) must be a consistent part of your promotional campaign.  Too often, we become “too hip for the room.”  It’s fine to be hip, but promotions should be aimed at the least common denominator.  The hip and cool people probably won’t participate in an Arbitron survey; they’re too busy.  It’s those nerds who have no life other than their radio that will make your ratings go up.

Mr. Bouvard makes a very interesting supposition in the interview when he says that people don’t recall exactly what times they listen.  Even the GM of Arbitron admits that the results are a basically a “guesstimate.”  So Arbitron isn’t exactly accurate?

Hold the presses.  We’ve got a news flash!

There is no doubt that Arbitron’s methodology in determining ratings is suspect at best and a cruel joke at worst.  Radio has known his forever.  We have criticized Arbitron for their methodology, techniques, samples and returns since the first bad book. However, the joke is on us.

Why? Because radio hasn’t come up with a viable, economical alternative.

We’ve had some experiments with alternative ratings.  Direct phone calls are infinitely more accurate in determining at-home listening.  When you call and ask someone, “What station are you listening to right now?” you’ll usually get an accurate answer.  But when a respondent is questioned about previous listening habits, we’re back to the same old horse…just a different color.  And there’s no way to get an accurate account of those listening at work (who’s going to risk the wrath of their boss to participate in a radio survey at work?) or in automobiles.

People meters are the next step.  These “beepers” fit on a respondent’s belt or inside a purse and measure the frequencies each person is exposed to over a given day.  These would be extremely accurate, but also extremely expensive.  Will radio pick up the additional tab for a supposedly more accurate survey?  Radio already questions the amount charged by Arbitron.

So what’s a mother do to?  Get into TV, where the entire nationwide audience of over 200 million people is determined by 200 households?

Face it:  Radio programmers are stuck between a rock and a hard place.  Your future is often determined by an inadequate system that is often inaccurate.  Most GMs discount the importance of Arbitron…until the book comes out.

You can work hard, spend hours on music computers, research and contests.  You can wear yourself out by programming through Arbitron’s methodology and still get killed by a bad drop.

Good thing there’s another avenue available for your consideration.

Grammytical

3/1/1996 

I like to dress up and have a good time.

Is that line from a song?  Or is it just a state of mind during Grammy week in Los Angeles?

With all due respect to New York, there’s no business like show business in Los Angeles.

Besides, we’re feeling pretty good about ourselves right now.  Magic is back, the Lakers are making a run and it’s Showtime again at the Forum.  The Dodgers are talking the talk as they prepare to win their division.  Disney bought the Angels, so they’re bound to improve.  We don’t have a professional football franchise, so we’re able to see the best games on television.  We haven’t had a really good mud slide in over a year, no fires to speak of and not a measurable earthquake (that’s anything over a 4.0 for those of us who live here) since 1994.  Housing prices are moving up and O.J. hasn’t called a local radio station in over a week.

It’s Grammy week.

I love L.A.

And I especially love L.A. during Grammy week. It’s the one time of the year in this entertainment town that the record and radio businesses gets to pretend we’re more important than the motion picture industry.  In the long run, we fail, of course, but for one brief moment in time we can ask the question: “Did you do it for love…did you do it for money…did you do it for spite…or did you have to, honey?”  (That’s an oblique reference to The Eagles, for those of you who are a little slow.)  And just in case you’re wondering, I always do it for spite.

Those of you who live in New York don’t quite understand us out here on the Left Coast.  See, we don’t dress up a lot.  You people will squeeze into a tuxedo or evening dress at the drop of an invitation.  Not so us.  It’s got to be special. 

And the Grammys are special.

It’s not just the Grammy presentation.  It’s the total experience.  Like going to a state fair, it’s fun to see the main tent, but the sideshows supply the real action.

And a sate fair doesn’t hold a candle to Los Angeles during Grammy week.  You think you’ve seen the world’s fattest man, the tattooed lady, the piercing Queen, the transvestites, the sword swallowers, the fire-eaters, the freaks, the jugglers and clowns that all did tricks for you?  Honey, come down to Hollywood.  You ain’t seen nothing yet!

The action begins long before Grammy week.  Things begin to get tense when the invitations are sent out.  God forbid if you aren’t invited to one of the parties.  It’s a social faux pas worse than brown shoes with a tux.  It starts when one of your colleagues asks if you’ve gotten an invitation to a certain party.  If you haven’t, the politicking begins in earnest.  You start by calling everyone you know at the company, wondering why you haven’t received your invitation.  They, of course, lie and say they’re sure you’re on the list.  The invitation must be the mail.

You, of course, don’t believe them for a second.  So you begin asking others with more juice to help you out.  They, of course, lie and tell you they’ll get right on it.  You’re left out in the cold.

But, if you’re smart, you can scam your way in.  Just find out others who are invited to the parties you want to attend.  Leave the awards early and stop by the party.  Use their name.  The people checking the lists are not heavy enough to garner an invite themselves, hence, they have no idea what the real person looks like.  You’re never asked for an I.D. And no one is really hurt.  When the “real” people get there, they can prove who they are by showing an I.D.  They’ll get in (after a hassle) and you’ll already be drinking champagne at the bar.

Next to arrive are your actual Grammy tickets.  You quickly break open the envelope and check your seating.  The tickets probably suck.  But it’s hard to bitch.  They’re supplied by a record company.  (Does anybody other than record companies actually pay for these things?)  If you were at a major market last year, and this year you’re in a smaller city, look for your tickets to be further from the stage.  If you’re in radio and you get your tickets early, you’ve got a chance at moving closer.  It depends on the records you add.  Hold out for the prime locations.

The first party is the biggest record company party of the year.  It’s Clive’s party at the Beverly Hills Hotel.  You haven’t truly arrived until you’re invited to Clive’s party.  And trying to get an invitation is almost impossible.  You’ve got a better shot at front-row Grammy tickets than getting on Clive’s list.

Clive’s party happens the night before the Grammys.  Appropriate.  Most believe it’s more important.  And it’s Black Tie.  Now the Grammys are Black Tie as well, but Black Tie in L.A. means anything from a tux to spangled denim jackets with cowboy boots and spurs.  Not so with Clive’s invitation.  Better have the tux or be ready to get embarrassed.

Then we finally get to the Grammys.  The most important part of the Grammys is your arrival.  You must, of course, have a limo.  Anything less is of the lowest order…or either ultra-cool.  You have to be pretty confident of yourself to pull up in your own car.  Since almost nobody in our business has that confidence, the only people who drive their own cars are those who can’t afford a limo.  Take out a loan.  In this town, the bank will understand.

After you get inside the Shrine Auditorium, you must locate your seat.  This is very important because you must determine who has better seats than you.  That’s the only real reason for going to the awards.  You must be able to silently gloat about having better seats than your rivals or smilingly seethe over seating you deem inappropriate.  You’ll do both.  There are enough people over you and under you to have you completely confused.

Veteran Grammy-goers leave their seats right after the opening ceremony.  The lobby provides the perfect setting for the ultimate schmooze-fest.  There you can brush against the titans of your industry and they can pretend they think you’re important…if only until someone more important enters their peripheral.

And don’t forget to leave the ceremonies early.  You have to clear out before the people you’re impersonating later.  It’s the only way you’ll get into the parties.

King Kong

1/12/1996 

It’s about time.

The entire radio and record industry has talked about a full-fledged Alternative station debuting in New York for about as long as the format has been alive.  Although many have made attempts in some form or another, no station, with a signal big enough to cover the New York metro has made a full-fledged commitment to the Alternative format.

That all changed last week.

King Kong. In the form of KROQ Los Angeles programmer Kevin Weatherly, is now climbing the Empire Stare Building.

How will Kevin succeed where others haven’t?  Simple. Weatherly is one of the best programmers in the country.  It’s that simple…but it isn’t that easy.

Alternative radio has been the flavor of the month for several years with varying degrees of success.  The Alternative format has been the dominant format in more smaller markets than large.  Is there a reason for this?  You bet.

Who are the biggest guns?  Bill Gamble at Q101 Chicago, Brian Phillips at WNNX Atlanta, Joel Folger at The Edge in Dallas and Kevin Weatherly at KROQ Los Angeles.

And the biggest of these, by market size and audience share, is King Kong Kevin.

Is there a reason why these four programmers have succeeded in the Alternative format beyond the audience shares experienced by most?  Of course.  It isn’t blind luck, no matter what some people would have you believe.  Each is an experienced programmer who knows how to put together an exciting radio station that attracts the audience.

Is it just coincidence that each of the most successful major-market Alternative programmers have deep experience in the Top 40 arena?  Not by a long shot.

In becoming the flavor of the month, the Alternative format has been perceived as a music format and not much more.  Many stations have flipped to the format because, in many cases, it is a relatively inexpensive format to run and maintain.  The thought is that all one needs to do is program Alternative music and the Audience will come, Pied Piper-style.

This is both true and false.  In smaller markets, where the competitions isn’t as deep, an Alternative playlist will often keep a station at the top.  In larger markets, it takes a whole lot more.

Most stations switching to an Alternative format experience an immediate spike in ratings because of the music.  Let’s face it, even in the worst-case scenario, Alternative is the freshest format on radio today.  However, that spike soon fades if the audience isn’t satisfied with what it hears between the cuts.

Many Alternative stations fail to become dominant in a market simply because of programming.  The stations aren’t very good.  No matter what the music, a radio station must combine all the elements to become dominant.

Kevin Weatherly has done this better than anyone else in our business.

In a format filled with mediocracy, because too many music directors are in charge of programming, KROQ stands alone.

KROQ is great radio station that happens to program Alternative music.

Is Kevin Weatherly an Alternative music guru? Hardly.  (Although he could be the only Alternative programmer who regularly dips snuff.)  Kevin is simply a great programmer.  Before KROQ, he was a Crossover genius.  (Not, by the way, the only Crossover programmer who dips snuff.)

Are you getting the picture?

I’ve said before that I believe KROQ is one of the best programmed radio stations in the country—regardless of the format.

The KROQ jocks are well-schooled and professional.  Sure they know the music, but more than that, they know the basics of the format.

KROQ produces exciting promotions that hit the middle of the lifestyle.  Too many Alternative stations look at promotions as something dirty.  Too many feel promotions aren’t hip or cool.  Let me explain it in a way you can understand:  Losing isn’t hip or cool.  KROQ doesn’t hesitate to stage promotions that involve the audience in the entire radio station…not just the music.

The production and staging on KROQ are some of the country’s best.  Production Director John Frost is the best.  The staging and production between the music sets up the image and style of KROQ.  The jock doesn’t have to say it.  The production does.

Too many Alternative programmers pay too much attention to KROQ’s music list.  Kevin is the first to tell you that’s a mistake.  KROQ programs music for a unique L.A. audience.  Music isn’t what makes KROQ dominant.  It’s only part of the reason.  Alternative programmers should check out the entire package.  Program your station like KROQ and choose music that is particular to your market, then you’ll have a winner.

Our industry, as a whole, has a problem understanding Alternative radio.  A lot of people want to believe the format is musically special and needs some very hip, very understanding, very cool vibe to make it grow and prosper.

Bullshit.

The success of the Alternative format…any format…lies in the abilities of the individuals who program the stations.  There is a reason that Scott Shannon, Steve Smith and Steve Kingston program in New York.  Will Kevin Weatherly succeed?  Of course.  Just like the others have.  Scott Shannon programs the most profitable Hot A/C station in the country.  Want the definition of Crossover success?  It’s spelled S-t-e-v-e S-m-i-t-h.  The epitome of Mainstream Top 40 programming is Steve Kingston.  The real story is that you could swap all of these guys’ stations around and they would all still be successful.

Because they are great programmers.

Alternative programmers need to spend less time concentrating on being ultra-cool and hip and more time concentrating on programming their stations.  It’s a lot more than just the music. 

I don’t know the definition of cool and hip, but I do know that Kevin Weatherly, Bill Gamble, Joel Folger and Brian Phillips don’t fit it.  They do, however, fit into an even more important category.  It’s called winners.

And that’s the coolest.

Resolutions For All Year

1/5/1996

It is probably the most exciting time of the year.  With few exceptions, we can throw out everything that happened before, erase the board and begin brand new.  It’s a time for new beginnings, rosy outlooks and resolutions.  All the mistakes we made last year don’t count, except to help us in our quest to become better because of them.  It’s all smiles no frowns and a happy tune on the lips of us all.

With luck, the feeling will last a week.

With a sense of purpose, it can last the year.

With hard work and dedication, it can change your life.

As managers of people, it is up to us to give the New Year’s resolutions and the people who made them every opportunity to capitalize on their goals and ambitions.  Luck only plays a big part in the lives of those who have planned and worked hard to recognize and use those “lucky” breaks to their advantage.  As leaders, most of us realize that it took more dedication and hard work than lucks to get us where we are today.  It’s important to share that work ethic and mindset with those around us.

The first week of the new year is the perfect time to begin a program of checks, balances and goals, not only for ourselves, but to others in our company or department.  I’ve always used the time between Christmas and New Year to analyze the past year and plan for the next.  It is important to do more than think about what has come to pass and what will happen.  Careful planning combined with reachable goals will stimulate your actions and keep you on the right course.

That goes double for your employees.

To maximize your potential, you must do the same for your support staff.  A group of people working together can accomplish the individual goals of each a lot quicker and easier than those working alone.  I’ll share some suggestions that have helped me in the past and may prove beneficial to you.

During the first month of the year, schedule meetings with each of your employees.  Set aside whatever time is necessary.  The meetings shouldn’t take long.  I find meetings that last longer than 20 minutes to be counterproductive.  Just make sure that whatever time you designate should be quality time.  Hold all your phone calls and focus all of your attention on the person you’ve scheduled.  If you have a large staff, you might want to schedule the meetings over a period of days.  Too many back-to-back meetings also become counterproductive.  Give yourself enough of a break between meetings so you can absorb the variables that are discussed.

Before the meeting, have each employee prepare notes.  Explain that the notes should be brief and not necessarily formal.  The notes should include a job description, goals, ambitions and a list of the employee’s strengths and weaknesses.

In order for you to get the most out of your employees, it is important to get their input.  Knowing what they want and perceive helps you make personnel decisions easier.  Too often we promote or assign tasks to the wrong people.  If you know what motivates each of your employees, your job will become much easier.

You should prepare notes for each individual listing the same topics you’ve asked them to provide.  The comparison in the meeting will help each of you understand the other and will make working together smoother over the coming year.

The job description is all important.  Although each employee should know exactly what is expected of them on a day-to-day basis, all too often, there is confusion.  Sometimes a little, oftentimes a lot.  Getting a descriptive job description from your employees may surprise you.  You may not even be aware of the tasks they’re doing.  Maybe someone else has given them assignments, or perhaps you’ve forgotten about some of the things you have assigned.  The job description­­—yours and theirs—will clarify any ambiguities.  This description should be specific and include the time they are expected in, lunch hours, breaks and time they go home.  Leave nothing to the imagination.  Compare your description with theirs and combine the two to come up with final blueprint for their working expectations and requirements.

Goals should be restricted to attainable aims within the company parameters.  Wanting to be the company president isn’t a goal.  It’s an ambition.  Goals should be divided into two groups: long-term and short-term.  Give your employees at least one short-term goal per quarter and set quarterly meetings to discuss those specifics.  If it is possible within your organization, shorter time spans and more goals are beneficial.  Whatever the time frames, make sure you schedule meetings accordingly.  Long-term goals don’t need to be as specific.  These need to be discussed at each quarterly meeting and in a final meeting at the end of the year.

Ambitions are important, so you’ll know where each employee wants to be in five or so years.  Knowing your employees’ ambitions can help you put them in the right job when openings arise.  Assigning employees tasks and titles that fit with their ultimate ambitions makes for happier and more productive people.  And it makes you look like a genius.

Although you are aware of your employees’ strengths and weaknesses, it’s important that they are aware as well.  You will be surprised how close your perception and theirs will be.  Discuss specific ways for each employee to accentuate the strengths and improve in the weak area.  Explain how you’ve reach your conclusions.  Each employee needs to know what you think about their working habits and why.

Often an employee will believe he or she is doing a good job in a specific area when you don’t.  This meeting and the accompanying notes will clarify and discrepancy between the perception and reality.

Follow-up meetings on these particular subjects are a must.  If you have only one meeting and then forget about it, the initial meeting becomes as concrete as a New Year’s resolution.  And will last about as long.

Identifying specific working habits, requirements, goals, ambitions, strengths and weaknesses of each member of your team will make each a better and more satisfied employee.  And make you a better leader.

It’s sure to make you all winners.

Merry Christmas

12/15/1995

We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

It’s that time of year again.  The time of year to feel melancholy, think back over the past year, remember only the good times and pretend we really like the people we have to do business with on a weekly basis.  Hey, it could be worse.  We could be doing construction work in Chicago.

With all of our warts and boils, with all of the emotional baggage we are asked to carry or ignore, with all the good and bad our business brings, remember this one important fact:  It beats working!

With that in mind, may I pretend to wish all of you my best for the holiday season…and particular gifts from Santa for the following:

For Andrea, a promise that she won’t be deserted at the convention, and barring that, anything in salmon. Danny Buch needs a life…and if you can’t give him that, let him trade his low-power chain for some real radio stations.  Infinity would be perfect.

My good friend Burt Baumgartner got everything he wished for in the move to California this year.  Maybe you could get him a surfboard…no, forget it…I’ll give him that. Justin Fontaine? What does he need with a boss like Burt?

Jerry Blair needs about two more litters of puppies to make his life complete…not to mention all of us who have to take the new ones off his hands.  Pretty soon, the albino German shepherd will be the mascot of our industry.  I could ask you to give Charlie Walk a little more height…but that would be taking a shot and Charlie’s too good a friend of mine to do that.  Lee Leipsner needs something else…I really don’t know what, but definitely something else.

Mark Gorlick needs a few national assistants.  He’s working himself into a lather and needs just a little help.  Maybe send him a couple of elves.  Also, can you get The Palm to put his picture up on the wall?  It’s past time.

Stu Cohen needs a new superstar project to work.  Preferably Larry Bird.  And what about Barney Kilpatrick?  A little more ink.  Hey, Santa, I can even take care of that since Barney is one of those who does more work and gets less recognition than others.  So what else can we get him?  Maybe his own restaurant in the French Quarter.  As long as I can get a table.  And how about a bigger screen for Greg Lee’s computer? He logs more time on AOL than anybody else in the business.

Could you please get Rich Fitzgerald a membership to a country club so he will get over it?  And a replacement for that $1,000 driver.  Maybe take that Deputy Sheriff’s job away from Marc Ratner.  He the most dangerous person in our business, Santa.  He’s ready to snap and licensed to carry a gun.  We could all be in trouble.

Rich Bloom needs a golf club that doesn’t come loose in his hands after he hits it dead right.  Steve Leeds needs an ark for all of the people he’s bringing in at high tide.

Don’t bring Michael Plen anything, Santa.  He’s been a bad boy this year.  Of course, maybe that’s being a little harsh.  He’s pretty much been the way he’s always been.  Your call.

What about Greg Thompson?  Now that he’s doing it his way at EEG, maybe he doesn’t needs a thing.  He got Bill Pfordresher just before the holidays.  Now it’s just a matter of who will win the toss and get to play golf.  The rest of that group is strange, particularly Coddington.  Santa, please let him know that he’s not heavy.  And Mike Whited?  Tell him he must cancel his weak attempt to establish a “Player’s Lounge.”  He doesn’t know any.

Phil Costello needs a new Beatles record.  Oh, yeah, he already got that.  How about some corners in his office?  Jeffrey Blalock needs a lot more frequent-flyer miles and Chris Lopes has got to let his hair grow.  It was his strength.

Don’t let me forget Rick Bisceglia, Santa.  I’m sure you can find him.  And Bruce Schoen? Bring him a number one pen.  He’s been writing with a number two long enough.

And Santa, I don’t wish to bring bad tidings on anyone, but if Lori Anderson ever has trouble at home, please let me be the first to know.  Of course, I’m not sure if having me by her side is a present for her, but I could convince her.  Bring Randy Spendlove some warmer clothes.

Barb Seltzer needs to be on another jury…this time with programmers on trial.  Dale Connone needs a smaller office…to make him look bigger.  What about Hilary Shaev?  An answering machine that gives out really sincere messages

John Fagot wants a new truck and a fishing pole.  Give both, Santa.  He deserves it.  And Tim Burruss needs a bigger budget.  Please, Santa, let him have it!

Joe Riccitelli wants a smoother golf swing and more time to use it.  Vicki Leben needs neither.

Marc Benesch needs to draw some better cards.  Let him hit an inside straight, Santa, but not against me.  And Brenda Romano?  A nice toy to ride beside her in that new car she’s driving.

All Mark Kargol needs is a couple of hit records.  And Lida Galka just needs room to work.

Nancy Levin needs to have more dinners with her secret love.  David Leach needs to hit it straighter.  Not further.  And Steve Ellis needs a sandwich from the Rock & Roll deli.

Butch Waugh and Skip Bishop both need the United States to recognize Confederate money so they’ll be millionaires.  Ray Gmeiner needs to turn Zoo into Jurassic Park with a couple of megatron hits.  Dana Keil should have a rose on her desk everyday.

Mike Becce, Terry Anzaldo, Joe Hecht and Ray Carlton are all in the same boat:  They need more releases.  Double them up.  Ditto Danny Ostrow.  The same could be said for Jack Satter, but I won’t say it.  Give Ric Lippincott a hog.

Peter Napoliello needs that movie part.  If I get my SAG card first, he’s going to snap.  Let’s give Michael Steele a name change so he’ll no longer be confused with someone in radio.

What about Steve Leavitt?  Give him a charge account at The Ivy, though he may already have one.  Give Craig Coburn a promotion.  He deserves one.

And last but not least, give Val DeLong whatever she wants.  She deserves it.

Now bring me some figgy pudding.

Come Together

12/1/1995 

Come together, right now, over me.

The Beatles documentary on ABC garnered a huge audience.  Interviews by and about The Beatles were on every national television newscast, the local news and just about every talk show in syndication.  Time, Newsweek, Rolling Stone, People and every newspaper in America covered the story of The Beatles releasing a new CD with feature articles.  Water cooler conversation centered around The Beatles just like it did decades before when the group released a new record.  The CD set a single-day sales record.  This from a double-CD.

And some Mainstream Top 40 stations didn’t add the new record, “Free As A Bird.”

Am I missing something here?

Countless Editorials, convention panel debates, professional and casual conversations about programming center on the lack of excitement in radio today.  Programmers are quick to stand up and pontificate about the importance of locking in with the lifestyle of the audience.  Programmers cite promotions and public affairs topics that are familiar to their audience as the important factor in focusing on their core.

Here is an absolute lock…something totally contemporary that the entire world is talking about…something positive…not wars or murders or terrorists or gangs…but a positive musical experience that some programmers chose to ignore. 

I’m sorry, I just don’t get it.

Now, I know that those of you who added the record are nodding your heads in agreement.  And I also know that those who didn’t add the record are saying I don’t know what I’m talking about.  You’re saying that I don’t program a radio station, that I don’t understand, that if I was behind the programming desk, my opinions might be different.

Let me expound.

There is absolutely, positively no reason in the world for any Mainstream Top 40 station in the world not to play The Beatles’ “Free As A Bird.” Period.

There is not one person in America who wasn’t insulated from the hype that preceded the documentary and the subsequent release of the single.  There is not one person who wasn’t interested in hearing what the song sounded like.

Forget, for a moment, whether or not the single is a bonafide hit.  Don’t weigh your decision to add the record on whether or not the musical integrity of the track fits perfectly within your flow or format.  The simple fact is that everyone is interested in hearing the song.  Not one person would tune out when the song was played.  Everyone wants to hear what it sounds like…to decide for themselves whether or not the sound lives up to the hype.

There is no down side.

Play the record for a while.  Daypart it in mornings and middays if you must.  Then, after you play the record a few times, let your audience decide whether or not they want to hear it again.

The hype has already been created.  All you have to do is join in.  Mainstream Top 40 stations across the country are falling all over themselves trying to lock into the 25-54 year-old-demos.  Is there a 25-54 year-old person out there who isn’t interested in hearing the new Beatles song?

Give me a break.

Granted, if you are programming to a specific ethnic group, you’ve got a reason.  I’m not sure that a Hispanic Dance station should jump right on that Beatles release.  Or an Urban station station.  But if you’re a Mainstream Top 40 station, what is the reasoning behind not playing. “Free As A Bird?”  Please help me out.  I just don’t understand.

Is it because, as a programmer, you’re so positive that you can pick all of the hits all of the time that you make these decisions for your audience?  So you’re telling me that every song you’ve ever added to your playlist in your career has been a bonafide smash? And, of course, you never missed one either, did you?

Objective decisions about subjective subjects like music are very dangerous.  They’re more than dangerous; they make for boring radio.

It seems that all too often, programmers find reasons not to do something, rather than search for reasons to make positive, innovative decisions.  All of us are responsible for putting music in the box it is in today.  We seem to want more of the same, rather than to seek out a different sound that might be the trend of the future.

If The Beatles’ earlier music had been held to such stringent rules, we would never have enjoyed hearing the innovative, different, revolutionary songs and albums that The Beatles made.  Rubber Soul would never have seen the light of day.  (What? Play cuts off an album with no single release? The sound doesn’t fit what being played on radio across the country.  I think I’ll pass.)  Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band? No shot.  (A concept album?  What is a concept album?  I don’t know.  I think I’ll pass.) Magical Mystery Tour? No way.  (Another concept?  I don’t understand.  They’ve got the London Philharmonic Orchestra in there.  I can’t play that.)  And the White Album? Puleeze.  (There are different arrangements.  It’s another album without a single.  Hell, there isn’t even a name on this album.  I can’t play this thing!  How will I know which cuts to program?  It’s much too Underground.)

I am a radio programmer.  I understand, more than anyone else in our industry, the pressures that go with the job.  But I also know that we, as programmers, have to push the envelope, now more than ever before, or the envelope will soon be sealed and we won’t have any other way to go.

Research and consultants have bred a type of radio that is too safe…too cookie-cutter…too boring.  As programmers we must find moments that we can turn into magic.  There aren’t a lot of them.  When we do find something positive…something contemporary…doesn’t it make sense for us to ride it until the tank runs dry?

Beatles giveaways, Beatles promotions, Beatles trivia…aren’t these elements that our entire audience would enjoy…especially with all of the hype that was generated by the TV documentary and other media?  Isn’t this a natural?

And, in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.

Goo Goo Goo Joob

11/24/1995 

I am the Egg Man…I am the Egg Man…

Welcome to Beatle mania…the 1990’s version.

It started when Gary Gersh, President of Capitol Records, invited a few of his close and personals to the famous Studio A for a private moment to hear the new Beatles’ song, “Free As A Bird.”  Security for the event was tighter than when The Beatles were recording.  The champagne was first-class, the music was awesome, the moment was spine-tingling.  Then, the anthology on ABC.

And all the memories that came with it.

I came of age with The Beatles.  Everyone else who was between the ages of 10 and 25 in the mid-1960’ can say the same.  A lot of people in our business today weren’t alive when The Beatles were changing our musical world.  Many at Network 40 missed their impact.  They all ask me the same question.  It was the question that Joan Lundon asked Ringo on Good Morning America.

“What made The Beatles so special?”

Hey, Joan, did you ever listen to their music?

The Beatles made musical history.  Why?  Because of the songs they wrote and performed.  What made the music special?  Now, there is the real question.  I don’t know if I, or anyone else, have the answer. I only know what I think.

The Beatles didn’t write and perform music that changed the world.  The Beatles wrote and performed music the reflected the changes taking place in the world.  And those who listened were more tuned in to the changes because of them.

John Lennon said The Beatles were a working class band that didn’t change.  That was true.  The Beatles, as singers and songwriters, stayed grounded in who they were as a group, even when they grew into other people as individuals.  They never viewed themselves from the outside, as did the world.  They kept focused on who they knew they were.

The band that changed the world? “We’re just four lads from Liverpool,” was John’s standard answer.  And it was true.

For the most part, The Beatles had fun.  Unlike most artists of today, The Beatles began with a sense of humor and they never lost it.  When you look at the footage of their live performances, you can tell The Beatles were having aa good a time as the audience.

Unlike most artists of today, The Beatles never bought into the hype about themselves.  They didn’t hide from fans or the press.  They were free with their thoughts and ideas.  There are literally hundreds of miles of tape and film featuring interviews with The Beatles.  Accessible?  It was part of their charm.  And part of themselves.

You see, The Beatles wrote and sang about the world around them.  To accurately reflect what was happening, they had to experience it.  Even after they became the most famous band in the world, they were still out there among us.

Elvis hid behind the walls of Graceland.  The Rock stars of today are inaccessible and unapproachable.  John Lennon was thrown out of the Troubador in Los Angeles for heckling an act.  He was also wearing Kotex on his head. I know. I was with him.

Boorish behavior, perhaps, but he was here, there and everywhere…just like the other Beatles.  They experienced life, then sang about it.

Our world was their world…and we shared it together.  They just sang it better than the rest of us.

The Beatles loved R&B music with a heavy back-beat and copied the sound in their early recordings.  I loved the music.

The Beatles made revolver and didn’t release a single.  It had never been done before.  I love that album.

The Beatles started smoking dope, experimented with LSD and sand “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds.”  I fell in love with that song.

The Beatles wanted to put an orchestra behind a rock and roll beat.  It had never been done before, but George Martin, their producer, was more experienced with recording orchestras than Rock groups, so he figured it would be a natural.  And it was. I love thsse strings.

There was no such thing as a concept album before Sgt. Pepper. I love that record.

Like no other group before or since, The Beatles managed to change as the world changed around them…because they were in tune with the world.  As they grew, so did their music.  But they grew with us…not apart from us as so many performers do today.

They didn’t change the way we were.  They just recognized and identified they way we were all changing.  They were a working class band that never forgot their roots.

The Beatles were honest.  To a fault.  No hidden dope-smokers there.  Nope, they came out with it.  So there was no exposé…no tabloid story to conjure up hidden demons.

Except for the one time when John stubbed his toe and said The Beatles were more famous than Jesus Christ, they were mostly loved…for what they were and who they were.  And even that statement was honest.  John was responding to a question about their fame.  He didn’t mean The Beatles should e worshipped, just that because of the media, more people had heard about The Beatles in their day than anyone else at any other time before.

The Beatles were so busy laughing at themselves that nobody else had any room to laugh at them.

They were fab…they were famous…they were a kick in the ass.

Early in the ascension of The Beatles, John was asked what he did in the group.  He answered, “Sometimes I play guitar, but mostly I play the fool.”

They all did.  Beautifully.

The Beatles were all about long hair, lifestyle, laughter, peace and love, but mostly they were about music.

When asked what was next for The Beatles, their manager, Brian Epstein, said, “The next song.”

Thanks to their music, I am the walrus.  And so are you.

Maui Wowie

11/10/1995 

The night had begun to sour an hour or so before…with the rancid tropical drinks laced with rum, complete with the obligatory orchid and tiny umbrellas.  The drinks were served by howlies, pretending to be natives, to the patrons, pretending not to be tourists.  Neither managed to pull off the bluff.

My first mistake was eating the orchid.  The group that had gathered around me, happy to be led through the streets of Lahiana by a man of my supposed stature, began to cast long, suspicious looks in my direction.

Fair weather fools they were.  Without me, they would be perfectly content to see Maui perched atop the stools of one of the tourist traps with a cheap string of shells around their necks.

Not me.  I was searching for the real Hawaii…home of the most beautiful people in the world.  I wanted to dig deep into the depths and find the bones of those who lived when Lahaina was just a sleepy little whaling village…and before…when King Kamahamaha ruled the sand and surf.

To get there, sacrifices had to be made.  I explained this as quietly as possible to the rookie sitting on my left.  He was dressed in a newly purchased authentic Hawaiian shirt that was made, of course, in Hong Kong.  His wife, a dainty little waif who clutched his arm and smiled at everything, hung by his side and onto my every word.

I pulled the guy close.  “You understand, some of our group must die.”

All the blood drained from his face.  The waif choked on her Mai Tai.  The crushed ice streamed out of her nose.

“How’s that drink?” I asked

“Tolerable,” she managed.

Her husband leaned closer.  “What did you mean by that statement?”

I waved my hands around.  “Yee, God,” I whispered, “sacrifices, of course.  They’ll be stripped naked and staked to the sands, eaten by crabs, their bones used to make trinkets.”

The waif threw up on her shoes.  The husband stood up and backed away cautiously, his eyes never leaving my face.

I took another shot of rum.  Thinning out the heard is a process one must go through to get to the true core.  And no one is better at turning a large group into a small one than me.  I am a professional.

I jumped up and headed for the door.  “To the tunes,” I shouted.

Half the group thought I said, “tombs,” and we lost them.  Better still.  There wasn’t room for all in the karaoke bar.

I ordered another drink and listened half-way through some Japanese businessman trying his hand at Bon Jovi’s “Wanted: Dead Or Alive.” When I made my move.

“Somebody grab the mike,” I yelled as I tackled the would-be singer.

Nobody did.  As the businessman’s friends came to his defense, my “friends” headed for the exit and the safety of the street.  I found myself there shortly, helped by two able-bodied security guards on the look-out for people just like me.

“Perfect,” I grinned.  “Two survivors.”

My compatriots, Burt and Christine, were waiting…for my company or because I had the keys to the car? I couldn’t tell, but they had been through much worse with me before.

“Where to now?” Christine wanted to know.

“To the tattoo parlor,” I answered.

Burt immediately hailed a cab.

To hell with all of them.  I staggered down Front Street to the parlor, fell inside and demanded service.

“What would you like?” the tattooed tattoo proprietor questioned.

I pulled myself up to attention, or as close as the rum would allow.  “I want,” I said indignantly, “a gold stake in my left ear, just like King Kamahamaha.”

“No problem, mate,” he said.  “But you’ve got to understand that I do body piercing here.  We don’t use a gun.  I want you to feel the total piercing experience.”

With eyes gleaming, he pulled out a long, shiny ice pick and waved it in front of my eyes.

I didn’t waver.  “You’re going to stick that in my ear?”

He grinned.  “Anywhere you like.”

“Does it hurt?”

A bigger grin.  “The pain is tolerable.”

I asked for the ice pick.  He handed it over and leaned on the counter.  I hefted it, checked the weights and balance as I checked him out.  The dude was pierced all over…holes in each ear, both nostrils, tongue, everywhere except…

I slammed the pick through the back of his hand, nailing him to the counter.  His screams followed me out of the door.  I surmised that his tolerance of pain wasn’t as high as he suspected.

I managed to make it to the beach before my legs finally gave out.  Rum has that effect on me.  I inhaled sand for a while before passing out completely, waking up hours later in a puddle of slobber and sea water.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it,” a voice rumbled behind me.

I rolled over on my back and saw King Kamahamaha himself, outfitted only in a thong made of leaves.  In one hand he held a crude spear…in the other, what was left of my bottle of rum.

“Are you him?” I asked.  “Kamahamaha?”

He nodded.

“The King!” I cried.

He laughed and sat down beside me.  “No, I’m Ken Kamahamaha.”

I frowned.  “Any relation?”

He shrugged.  “Some.”

I contemplated his answer for a while and reached for the bottle.  Together, we emptied it. 

“What’s that matter, brudder?” he asked.  “You look sad.”

I was.  “I wanted to get my ear pierced with a golden spike, just like King Kamahamaha.”

“You mean like this?” He held out a huge hand.  In his palm was a golden spike.  It glistened like a diamond in the light of the full moon.

I lay back on the sand.  “Put it in.”

He shipped out a large knife with a dull point and went to work.  When he was done and the blood had dried, he asked, “How does it feel?”

I fingered the golden spike imbedded in my left ear.

“Tolerable.”

Monster Mash

10/27/1995 

Buford Bellows turned down the monitor and hit the button for the telephone.

“K-Bat request line, what do you want to hear?”

He heard a deep breath followed by a coarse whisper, “Please play ‘Monster Mash.’”

“Thanks for calling.”

Buford punched out and stared at the phone.  All 10 lines were lit up.  All, no doubt, with listeners wanting to hear “Monster Mash,” “Thriller,” “Spooky” or some other ghoulish tune.  It was, after all, Halloween and the freaks were out full-force on Hollywood Boulevard.

There was nothing like Halloween in Los Angeles.  As if the weirdoes needed a special night.  But efforts were at a fever pitch.  Even by Hollywood standards, this particular Halloween was turning into an Academy Award winner.

The intercom, on the front door of the rundown building in the alley between Hollywood Boulevard and Sunset, had been buzzing all night.  He answered it only occasionally.  The freaks were bad enough on the phone.  He didn’t need to see any up close and personal.  Besides, it was strange enough in the studio.

It started when Heather, his regular request operator, did a no-show.  In her place she sent someone straight from central casting.  The guy was well over six feet tall, even with his stooped posture.  He was skinny as a rail and white as a ghost.  With real funny eyes.  Jet black.  Like his hair.  And clothes.  The darkness was accentuated by the pale, almost opaque, skin that covered the protruding bones in his face.  Hands like skeletons.  And the guy didn’t walk.  Buford didn’t think his legs even moved.  He just sort of swooped.

He gave Buford the creeps.

The name, at least by Hollywood standards, was normal.  Dude.

As if.

Buford wasn’t from Hollywood.  He was about as far away from Hollywood as one could get.  He grew up in Alabama.  Came only seeking a job.  As a deejay, he always wanted to work L.A. Even at the stupid little AM station that hardly anyone listened to.  It was still a major market and he jumped at the chance.

Buford was checking his music log, getting ready for the next break, when the overhead lights in the studio suddenly went out.

“What the hell?”

“Not to worry, boss” Dude said as he swooped through the control room door, a candle already in his hands.  “A little mood lighting.”

“How did you get here so fast?”

Dude managed to shrug his scrawny shoulders.

“Did you shut off these lights:”

“Not directly,” Dude said with a smile.

For the first time, Buford noticed the sharp, pointed teeth.  The street people in Hollywood would do anything to be different.

Buford took the candle and waved Dude out of the control room.  He couldn’t be bothered.  The PD at the big station in town had said he would be listening tonight.  If Buford a good show, he might land the opening.  He wasn’t going to let anything stop him.

He cleared his throat and hit the mike.  “K-BAT on Halloween and all my freaks are out at night.  You know the Bat phone number, 666-6666.  Get on it now and tell me what song to play that will make you howl.”

Buford sat back contentedly.  Even in the candlelight, he had hit the post.

“Boss?’

I t was Dude on the intercom.  But Buford couldn’t see him through the glass.

“Where are you?”

“On the intercom.”

“I know that.  Where are you?”

“Right in front of you.”

Buford blinked his eyes and Dude appeared.  Buford shook his head.  He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately.  His mind was playing tricks on him.

“What do you want?”

“Lines 1-10 are holding for you.”

Buford picked up the phone.  “Hello, K-Bat.”

It was the same, coarse whisper.  ‘Monster Mash,’” the caller said.

“How did you get on all the lines?”

“My powers are special.”

Buford hung up.  Almost scared.  But he had a job to do.  Someone was listening.  Someone who mattered.  Someone who could get him out of the hell hole he was working in.

“You really want that job, don’t you?”

Buford wheeled around.  Dude had swooped in behind him.

“What the hell do you know about it?”

Dude smiled.  The teeth seemed longer.  “I know all.”

Buford was irritated.  “What do you want?”

Dude dropped into a coarse whisper.  “I want to hear ‘Monster Mash.’”

“Jesus,” Buford cracked, “Was that you?”

“It is me.”  Dude parted his lips.  The teeth were glistening now.  “I want to give you what you want.”

“Bullshit,” Buford said.  “I want that job at KIIS. The PD is listening right now.  If I do a good show, I might be in.”

“I can give you anything you want.”

“You know the guy?”

“I am all-powerful.”

“Cut the crap,” Buford spat.  “Am I supposed to believe you’re Dracula?  If that’s true, the show me something.  Turn into a bat and fly around the room.”

Buford watched as Dude transformed himself into a small, black bat and fluttered around the control room.

“Okay, I guess you win.”

Dude retransformed into a freak.  “Now do you believe me?”

“You can get me that job?”

“Absolutely.”

“What do you want from me?”

Dude’s smile got even bigger.  “I want to bite your neck.”

Buford rubbed his chin and looked around the room quickly.  “Alright, but make it quick.  My record’s running out.

Chart Monitor

10/20/1995 

Can you hear the theme from Jaws getting louder in the background?  Dun-dun, dun-dun, dun-dun.

VO:  Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water…

Boys and girls, we aren’t safe yet.  Another great white shark has been spotted lurking off the coast, waiting to pounce on our young, weak and infirm.

Does the phrase, “The King is dead, long live the King,” ring a bell?

Oh my God, Chicken Little, the sky is falling! Again!

It wasn’t so long ago when I was writing Editorials about the Darth Vader of our business, R&R.  Heading the long list of detrimental deeds by the publication was R&R’s insistence on dictating to the industry they pretended to serve.  Chief among the complaints were R&R’s arbitrary decisions regarding the reporting status and format designations of radio stations.

Remember those days when things were simple?  We all felt comfortable in our habits.  I had something to write about each week…you knew what you would be reading.  Life was easy when we had only one thing to focus on. 

Now that R&R’s power has eroded so much that the company can only use 15-watt bulbs, it would seem that peace could settle over the universe and love could rule the world.  Unfortunately, this isn’t Aquarius and I am not the 5th Dimension.  The Dark Side’s power is strong.

The hottest topic of conversation at The Monitor gathering this past weekend in New York centered around labels.  I’m not talking about record labels, but labels that trade magazines, particularly The Monitor, are using when describing and listing certain radio stations.  Many programmers and record executives were extremely vocal when discussing this proposition both inside a panel discussion and outside in the halls.

What’s it all about?  Several things, really.

Do trade magazines have the right to dictate policies to stations and record companies?  It’s an interesting supposition.  Trade magazines depend on information gathered from radio stations to put together a credible publication.  When the publication is credible, record companies support the magazine with advertising.  (Some magazines have no credibility with radio, yet, for outdated reasons, they still garner some record company support, but for the sake of this Editorial, let’s leave them out of it.) Since all trade magazines depend on support from both the radio and record communities, it’s hard for a trade magazine to dictate to anyone…unless that trade assumes power it doesn’t really have.

Remember R&R?

You don’t remember R&R?  Hmmm, neither does most of the industry.

The Monitor got quite a lot of industry flack at the gathering last week by suggesting a method by which all radio stations would be classified.  Michael Ellis of The Monitor has decided to classify stations based solely on music.  If a station plays music that fits within certain guidelines, it will fall into a certain category.  Whether or not a programmer thinks his or her station belongs in that category is immaterial.

Really?

In my opinion, it isn’t. Give Michael credit.  Neither he, nor anyone else at The Monitor, dictated these guidelines as official positions.  Michael has merely floated these guidelines as opinions to get feedback from the industry.

The feedback had been ear-splitting.

It is, and has been, Network 40’s position that programmers describe the format of their individual stations.  Who better to make that distinction?  Particularly in today’s age, where New York’s Mainstream Top 40 would be a Houston Alternative station, it is impossible to accurately describe a particular radio station unless market variables are taken into consideration.

Presentation must be taken into consideration.  Presentation has always set a true Top 40 apart from the competition.  Anyone who doesn’t take presentation into consideration when defining a station isn’t looking at the whole picture.

What about the programmer’s opinion?  Shouldn’t it count for something?  At Network 40, we believe the PD’s opinion counts more than anything else.

Steve Kingston knows more about his radio station than we do.  Ditto Steve Perun.  Since both operate thousands of miles apart and we can’t listen to both with equalarity (you like that word?), how either Steve classifies his station makes all the difference in the world.

Is KMEL a Top 40 station in San Francisco?  Absolutely.  KMEL’s list last week reflected about the same ethnic mix of music as KFRC ten years ago.  And their presentation is definitely Top 40.  Is WPGC a Top 40 station?  In Washington, D.C., it most certainly is.  Would either of these stations be Top 40s in Wichita?  Who cares?  Each stations is a reflection of the market it serves.

I believe Michael’s agenda in classifying stations is an honest attempt to produce what he believes is a more accurate chart.  I applaud his efforts, if not his decisions.  We go with what we know.  Michael spent most of his time in radio as an MD.  Most of the Network 40 editors are former programmers.  We believe that a format is more than music.

What’s all the fuss?  Why should any programmer care how a trade magazine classifies a station?  Many are afraid a trade’s definition can be used by their competition when seeking advertising revenue.  Others feel a certain classification might deny their station promotions from record companies.

The solution is simple.

Network 40 doesn’t put classifications on any of our reporters.  We allow programmers to describe their own stations.  We feel they are significantly more qualified.

So, what happens if we disagree with the description supplied by the programmer?  We don’t use that station as a part of our data base.

What about radio stations?  Suppose the programmer describe a station a certain way and a trade magazine insists it should fit into another category?  Simple.  The programmer should refuse to report to the publication and not allow the magazine to use its call letters.  The power lies with the programmer.

It’s that simple.

End of story.