Gerry Cagle

12/2/1994

Old School.

It’s a term that’s being heard more and more often in our industry…and not with a glamorous connotation.

Old School, more often than not, is a description hung on anyone or anything that doesn’t seem to fit into today’s changing world. Old School. Old fashioned. Old way of doing things.

Almost overnight, a young, cutting-edge, Alternative brand of music began sweeping the nation. It caught most of us by surprise. And the musicians who were making this music were cut from a different cloth. Success, to most of them, was having a semi-regular gig at some place that allowed them to play whatever they wanted and act as outrageously as their lifestyles dictated. Small, independent record companies signed a lot of these bands and nurtured that style. Records, for the most part, sold to a small, fanatical core.

But something happened on the way to another “here to day, gone tomorrow” fad. A lot of the music began to be accepted into the Mainstream. And from an art form, a commercial success began to boom. Large record companies, recognizing a good thing…finally, began signing these bands and the music grew. Suddenly, Alternative wasn’t an alternative any more. Today, it is becoming the mainstay of Mainstream.

And the snake ate the baby.

Change is a fact of life. Positive change is a part of success. But changing for the wrong reasons…or just for the sake of change…is the key to disaster. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” is more than an old saying…it, too, is a fact of life. And a chief ingredient for continued success.

There are those in the record industry seeking change for the sake of change… particularly where promotion is concerned. And it’s a mistake.

Some have the opinion that to successfully promote Alternative radio stations or stations with an Alternative edge, a different approach must be used. The old ways don’t work. A kinder, gentler promotional approach supplied by a younger, hipper promotion person is needed. Since when did applying pressure to get a record played become unacceptable?

It is wrong to assume that promotion people must reflect the acts they are paid to promote. They should reflect the interests of the record companies they represent.

There are no “natural” promotion people. Admittedly, some are more adept than others, but promotion is certainly a “learned” occupation. And unlike professional athletes, who rely on skill and coordination that deteriorate rather quickly, promotion people get better with time.

It is a unique occupation. No other is so contingent upon relationships. The longer someone is in the business of promoting records, the more programmers he meets. And in promotion, the more you know…the more you know.

Of course, you must have talent. Just calling radio stations doesn’t qualify anyone as a good promotion person any more than having blue hair, a nipple ring and a laid back attitude qualifies one as perfect for the Alternative genre.

Record companies are influenced by music. Programmers are professionals who are paid to program radio stations. The music is often incidental. A record company that makes a decision on the wants and needs of a programmer based on the music he plays is in for a big surprise.

The Alternative programmers of today were the Top 40 and AOR programmers of yesterday. And they may be in a different format tomorrow. When GMs look for programmers, they aren’t impressed by the success in the music business…they weigh a candidate’s success in the radio business. When Trip Reeb searched for the perfect person to program KROQ, who did he choose? Kevin Weatherly, whose success was at Rhythm-formatted KKLQ. Was there a more Mainstream programmer than Steve Kingston before he switched Z100 to an Alternative lean? And where was Brian Philips before WNNX and Tom Poleman before KRBE? Or AOR standouts Scott Jameson at WRZX and Ron Nenni at KOME?

Good record promotion people know radio. They understand PDs because they’ve been dealing with them for years. In all of the different formats. Because of the music…and in many cases, in spite of the music.

Any good record company recognizes the importance of being artist-friendly and promotionally aggressive. Warner Bros. built its sizable reputation on this premise.

Because it’s an Alternative station, is the pressure any different? In most cases, because it’s an Alternative station, the pressure is greater because the budgets are smaller. Are all those Alternative stations adding records and not asking for promotions. And none of those stations are demanding acoustic Christmas concerts, are they? Promotion people don’t need to call on these stations because these programmers just sit around and listen to music all day. They don’t have to worry about running a radio station because it’s Alternative…it’s an art form.

So who do you want promoting Kevin Weatherly, Steve Kingston, Brian Philips, Tom Poleman and the rest of the Alternative programmers? The guy with blue hair and a pierced nipple who has little knowledge of radio and promotion, or the promotion people who have worked with them for years in other formats?

Or we could just jump on that buzzword of the ’90s bandwagon…marketing. I will be (and have been on these pages) the first to admit that the industry needs to explore alternative ways of getting records to its audience, but marketing as a stand-alone operation is a losing proposition. It’s healthy to expand marketing plans and to develop additional marketing ideas, but marketing without airplay doesn’t fly, Orville.

Suppose all radio stations stopped playing music and music videos were banned from TV. Where would that marketing plan kick in to pick up the slack.

Marketing can maximize a good promotional effort. But without promotion…without airplay…marketing doesn’t cut it. It’s funny that all those marketing discussions end late Tuesday afternoon when the only thing that matters is airplay. And who gets the airplay? Not that great marketing campaign or those point-of-purchase posters.

Promotion people get the airplay. And who gets the most airplay? The best promotion people. Those with relationships built over time.

Old School.

We should all enroll!

11/25/1994

It is Thanksgiving…time to give thanks…and I would like to do that…even if it is against my nature. Bah! Humbug! (Oops, that’s the Christmas Editorial!)

We want to give thanks to all of our new friends in Country radio who have welcomed Network 40 and made it possible for us to move to the next step. Also to our friends in the Country music industry, who are working with us to create a system of tracking Country music that is complete, fair and accurate. And, of course, to R&R for having a chart that is so totally screwed up. Without all of you, none of this would be possible.

Before BDS started monitoring airplay, Network 40 began experimenting with a concept called Plays Per Week. With the help of a small number of radio programmers, we began plotting a chart based on the actual number of times a song was played during the previous seven days. It was quite a daring concept. We asked that programmers supply us with their computer-generated airplay reports and we began compiling a chart based on this information.

Although every record company was demanding accurate information from radio and nearly every radio programmer paid lip service to honesty, in the beginning there were few who complied with our request and fewer still who believed the concept would work.

Slowly, but surely, our list of Plays Per Week reporters began to grow. More and more PDs were interested in having their lists reflect reality. Even as the record and radio industries cried out for a chart based on reality, R&R continued to print playlists that had little or no relation to actual plays. Why? Because it was in R&R’s best interest to continue with an antiquated system. The fact that this type of chart was not in the best interests of the radio and record industries as a whole meant little to R&R. R&R has never been in the business of listening to radio programmers or record executives. R&R has dictated policy to the industries and demanded compliance. If you didn’t like R&R’s rules, you couldn’t play.

Well, a funny thing happened on the way to the playground. Radio programmers began to take a stance against the dictatorial principles demanded by R&R. And when BDS began monitoring the spins of records on radio stations, the circle became complete. R&R was forced, kicking and screaming, into the world of reality. Everyone wanted…everyone demanded…accurate descriptions of airplay. Network 40’s Plays Per Week and BDS-monitored airplay because the standards against which all others were judged.

Even though Network 40 was the first publication to print a chart based on Plays Per Week, we thought it was important that the industry adopt a standard that would be accepted throughout. We offered the use of our term, “Plays Per Week” to other publications. Instead of demanding compensation for our original idea and title, we gave it to any publication…free…for the good of the industry.

Other publications, including R&R, began using the description and it has become an industry standard. But unfortunately, R&R stopped short of the industry goal…that of total accuracy in reporting reality.

Instead of accepting faxed, computer print-outs of actual airplay, R&R demanded that stations report predicted plays. This battle was quickly lost in most formats.

Every programmer knows it is impossible to predict how many times a record will be played in coming weeks. The better question is: Why would a publication want to print inaccuracies? Why R&R continues to ask PDs to provide information that can be easily manipulated is beyond comprehension. PDs want reality. The record industry wants realty. The faxed, computer-generated Network 40 Plays Per Week chart is reality. BDS is reality. What is R&R?

Unreal.

On the opposite page, you’ll find a simple explanation of how to provide Plays Per Week to Network 40. It isn’t guesswork. It is a reflection of your previous week’s airplay. Just as Network 40 reflects the wants and needs of the industry in the rest of our publication, so will the chart.

In monitored markets, Network 40’s Plays Per Week chart can be compared with BDS to make sure all detections are picked up. As a PD, you won’t be getting calls from record companies asking why your predicted plays differed from the actual monitor. As a record executive, you can check the comparison to make certain all of your detections are counted.

In non-monitored markets, Network 40 acts as a monitoring system so everyone will know exactly how many times a song was played.

It is an honest, reliable system that both the radio and record industries embrace. Because it is honest and reliable. And easy for programmers.

You don’t have to guess. You don’t have to wonder whether or not breaking news stories, inclement weather conditions or other emergencies will make your predictions inaccurate. Or what about new releases you get on Tuesday or Wednesday that you want to begin playing immediately? Those songs weren’t included in your predictions. What happens then? There are so many reasons for not predicting Plays Per Week that is amazing R&R continues with the system. Made-up playlists, paper adds, imaginary airplay…there are not a part of today’s radio and record industries. Predicting Plays Per Week allows those who would manipulate charts a was to continue. It is time for the entire industry to reflect what is…not what might be…or could be…or probably won’t be. R&R has been forced to reflect actual PPWs in almost every other format except Country. Why not Country? Maybe it is because, until now, there has been no alternative.

Network 40 is the alternative. Our publication is designed to reflect the realities of our business. The entire magazine is devoted to sharing concepts and ideas to make your jobs easier. We want to make sure that those concepts and ideas are a direct reflection of your ideas.

Network 40 is dedicated to serving the radio and record industries…not dictating what is best for us. So during this holiday season, we would like to give thanks to all of you who are helping.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to carve the R&R…I mean turkey.

11/25/1994

Our brilliant, newly promoted Editor-In-Chief Jeff Silberman came up with the concept of this week’s magazine…the leftover issue. It is an interesting concept, based on the American tradition of Thanksgiving leftovers and the Network 40 tradition of the necessity of publishing when Thursday is a holiday. In order for Network 40 to arrive on your desk more or less on the same day as usual, we have to go to press one day earlier. This means we have one less day to prepare the cutting-edge editorial content that you have grown to know and love.

So Jeff, (you remember, the newly promoted Editor-In-Chief) came up with this “left over” concept. To aid our writing (i.e. to make it easier), we would fill the magazine with leftovers. On the surface, it’s a great concept. You put into the magazine all of the things that were, for one reason or another, left out during the past year. There’s only one problem: I haven’t left anything out…or at least anything I could write about.

I could write about the VP of Promotion who had an interesting experience on a long road trip. This guy stayed at the most expensive hotel…as VPs always do. Most of the hotels have maids who turn down the beds at night and place mints on the pillows. Instead of mints, this particular hotel leaves a large chocolate candy with nuts. Upon returning to his room after a late night of drinking with the local program director, the VP fell immediately into bed and went to sleep. As the next day was Tuesday, he was up early making calls. He didn’t take a shower, just put on a robe and sat down at the table in the living room of the suite. When the maids came to make up the room, he was on the phone and just waved them inside. One of the maids went to the bed, turned back the covers and saw a huge, brown stain (with nuts) on the sheets and began gagging. Realizing what the maid thought, the VP tried to explain, but she threw up on his feet.

I could write about that…but it’s pretty gross.

Or I could write about the program director of a major market station who wanted to send off his departing morning man with a great going-away present. Instead of the same, lame parties and gifts, this PD came up with the idea of bring several sheep into the control room during the jock’s last few breaks. Unfortunately, the sheep were a bit agitated at seven o’clock in the morning and lost control in the lobby, urinating and defecating all over the new carpeting.

Unknown to the PD, the general manager picked up the new owner at the airport that morning. The GM spent the entire trip to the station explaining what a professional organization he ran. The new owner was a bit suspect of Top 40 radio and had his doubts about continuing the format. By the time they arrived at the building, however, the GM believed he had turned the owner around. That is, until they walked into the lobby.

I can’t write about that because it is a sad story. The GM fired the PD. The owner fired the GM. And the sheep went back to the zoo.

Then there is the story of the new act, signed to a large label, who went on a promotional tour. A major station had added the record out-of-the-box and the label wanted to show appreciate by having the group play at a station event in a local nightclub. The place was packed and everyone was drinking heavily, including the members of the band. After the set, the singer and lead guitarist grabbed two “willing” ladies and went backstage. It turns out the ladies weren’t as “willing” as the band members thought and it got ugly in the dressing room. Some clothes were ripped and threats were made, but the manager stepped in and averted something more serious. The PD and MD were surprised when they went into the dressing room and found their respective wife and fiancée upset and crying because the two had been “attacked” by band members. The VP Promotion was not, however, surprised when the record was dropped from the playlist. The promotion tour, and the act, were cancelled.

Of course, I couldn’t write about that. Any more than I could write about the program director who invited his independent record promoter to visit the market and meet his new wife. Of course, the indie flew in and was quite surprised to be introduced to a beautiful young lady. Surprised, because the PD was much older than his new bride. And much uglier. The PD went to great lengths to express his love for his wife. He told the indie how he was hopelessly in love, how the new “Mrs.” Had changed his life and how they would live happily ever after. The indie was elated to see the PD happy. He was less elated, however, at dinner when the bride, while the PD wasn’t looking, ran her hand up his leg.

It got worse when the PD went to the bathroom. His bride leaned over and whispered in the indie’s ear, “Tonight, after my husband goes to sleep, I’m coming to your room to make mad, passionate love to you.”

The PD returns and begins the drive to his home. The indie insists on staying at a nearby hotel. The PD will hear nothing of it. He wants the indie to spend the night so he can find out how well his new wife makes breakfast.

The indie is shown upstairs to his room and is doomed when he sees there is no lock on the door. Long minutes turn into an hour and the house is quiet. The he hears footsteps creaking on the stairs.

The door opens and the PD’s wife enters. Even in the moonlight, he can see she’s wearing nothing but a robe. And she wasn’t wearing that very long. Now naked, she throws herself on the bed. The indie tries to fight her off, to reason with her, but she’s having none of it. She’s young, beautiful and naked. But she’s also the PD’s wife. If the PD finds out, the indie is done.

Then, the worst happens. The PD enters the room and finds his new wife and the indie naked in bed together. He screams and cries and runs down the stairs. The indie follows, trying to explain. In the living room, the PD breaks into laughter. He explains that the young lady isn’t his wife, only someone he hired for the evening to play a joke on the indie.

It worked. We assume the indie got paid.

Those are all stories I could have written, as leftovers, but of course, I can’t. So I guess I’ll just leave this column blank.

11/4/1994

In the past two years, we have seen sweeping changes in our business. Think back to 1993. Had anyone predicted that R&R would no longer matter to most, that Plays Per Week and BDS would be the standard by which radio airplay would be judged, that Soundscan would reign supreme in rating record sales, that Mo Ostin and Lenny Waronker would be leaving Warner Bros., that Bob Krasnow would leave Elektra, that Elektra and EastWest would combine into one label…that person would have been labeled a fool and a forceful intervention would have deposited the culprit into a hole for the critically insane.

Yet it has all happened…and more.

For years, the record business (critical of the stranglehold R&R maintained, yet greatly responsible for its continuation), espoused an honest, accurate gauge of radio airplay. Many supported Network 40’s early stance on Plays Per Week. And reality finally came crashing down with the penetration of BDS.

The beast built on paper adds and manipulated airplay was run over by the bulldozer of reality and lay in the tractor tracks of the wake, its body broken, its eyes red and its mouth agape, gasping for a final few breaths.

Most major record companies shouted with glee and the countryside was filled with joyous festivities. Hands were clasped, backs were patted and feasts were planned. The beast had been conquered and all was well with the world.

Many went to visit the place where the beast had fallen. At first, few came near. Although broken and dying, the brutality of the past kept most at a safe distance from the dangerous tail and the one-venomous bite. But as time passed, the timid became breave. First throwing rocks from afar, then moving closer with long sticks and finally standing adjacent, the crowds abused the former bully, stabbing it with their steely knives…but they just couldn’t kill the beast.

Truth be known, no one really wanted to be totally responsible for the beast’s death…though many took credit for its demise. And after a while, the throngs drifted away until only a few were left to watch the beast die of starvation. News of the beast’s condition, once related by many, was reported indifferently, when it was reported at all. The business continued on its way, thriving on the new, honest high road.

And then a funny thing happened. Some, who were the most critical of the beast during its reign of terror and were the first to cheer when it was broken, began to bring it food. Under the cover of darkness, the beast was again fed the nourishment it needed to survive…paper adds and manipulated airplay.

The beast will never again reign supreme. The beast is broken and beaten and will never rise, but it is surviving because of the few who continue to support deception and dishonesty for their short-term gains.

Network 40 supplies the industry with the most accurate compilation of radio airplay. We do this with the help of our network of reporting stations…stations that are, for the most part, honest and filled with integrity. Network 40 generates our chart based on actual airplay from computer generated airplay reports from our network of stations, which is, by the way, the most comprehensive listing in the industry today.

In the past few weeks, we have noticed a disturbing tendency on the part of a very small minority of radio stations. The airplay reports some stations supply Network 40 do not match those phoned in to R&R. Some stations that are not playing certain records are reporting to R&R that these records are being played. When contacted about these actions, the programmers involved admitted submitting inaccurate information to R&R due to “outside pressures.”

So, if Network 40 has the most accurate and most comprehensive compilation (try and say that fast five times in a row) of airplay available, why do we care? Is it that we want to bash the beast yet again? Although the temptation remains, the simple truth is that we’ve been there…done that.

We at Network 40 are proud of the fact that we were there in the beginning. Wee were first in debuting a chart based on actual airplay. We applauded, lauded and were a pare of the industry’s change from paper adds and manipulation to accuracy. And we want it to continue.

Why some proclaim honesty and integrity in public, then play games and manipulate charts they helped make obsolete, is a mystery.

The point is simple: Radio stations shouldn’t be rewarded for records added that aren’t played. Many radio stations in smaller markets are in a tough position. These stations depend on “promotional support” supplied by independent record promoters and record companies. The temptation is powerful to “add” a marginal record for some kind of compensation, yet, not play it because you aren’t sure whether or not your audience will like it.

No independent record promoter contacted by Network 40 advocates paper adds. No record company wants a paper add. Record companies want radio programmers to believe in their records…if not, then don’t play them.

What is the answer? Simple, if you are a programmer, don’t add a record to your playlist if you aren’t playing it. If you are a record executive, don’t compensate for supposed radio airplay.

The only way a record company can be sure a record is being played is by checking BDS or Network 40’s Plays Per Week Chart. Network 40 accepts faxed computer-generated airplay reports. We don’t use playlists or telephone reports as a part of our normal data base. A record company that does not use Network 40 or BDS as the bass for determining actual airplay runs the risk of false chart manipulation and perpetrates a system all agree was detrimental to our entire business.

At Network 40, we constantly monitor our reporting stations to ensure that the information supplied is accurate. Stations that submit inaccurate or deliberately misleading information are dropped from our list of reporters. But we can’t drop a station that reports accurately to Network 40 and inaccurately to R&R.

To the very small minority of radio programmers who report inaccurate information, we say, “Resist the temptation and deliver us from the evil of paper adds.”

10/28/1994 (Halloween)

“I was working in the lab, late one night…”

Johnny “Prince Of” Darkness potted down the rest of the song and grabbed the request line. “Hello. K-Drac.”

“Hi there,” a low, female voice purred. “Is this Johnny Darkness?”

“You’re talking to the Prince,” the deejay said as he reached for a CD. “How can I help you?”

“It’s not you who can help me, you poor, doomed soul. I’ll be helping you before the clock strikes midnight.”

Johnny punched another blinking line. “Hello. K-Drac. May I help you?”

“Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

Johnny frowned and quickly hit another line. It was the same voice…but it couldn’t be…he had just hung up on her.

“K-Drac.”

“It’s no use…you can run, but you can’t hide.”

“Jesus,” he said, “you sound just like…”

“It is me, my dear, sweet, innocent fool.”

Johnny slammed the phone down and checked the clock. Ten-fifty-five. Halloween, Part 3 had just ended at the local theater. The whacked-out calls always began when the movie was over. He leaned back in his chair and stretched. Only an hour left on his shift and he would become one of the ghouls himself, emceeing a costume contest at a local night club.

As the second-hand crossed the top of the hour, Johnny hit the station ID.

“This is Kay Dracula…KDRC, Muldavia, Indiana.”

When “Thriller” kicked in, he turned down the volume and reached for his tenth cup of coffee. He had been drinking since his shift began at seven, but it was all he could do to stay awake.

He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, the thoughts of the strange female on the consecutive phone calls nagging in the back of his brain. It should have been a warning signal. The last deejay that held the 7-midnight shift had disappeared the previous year…on Halloween night…but Johnny didn’t give it any thought when he got the gig. Night deejays were always disappearing, then popping up at another station somewhere else.

It took KDRC a long time to fill the slot. Word had it that the station was haunted…the man Johnny replaced wasn’t the first who had disappeared mysteriously. But Johnny didn’t care. He needed the money. Besides, he didn’t believe in ghosts.

When he opened his eyes, he instantly knew something was wrong. The entire room was dark. No illumination came from the ceiling or even the board. He sat up quickly. The air was chilly. He could feel a cold mist against his face.

“What’s going on?”

A voice behind him ran a chill up his spine. “I said you could run, but you couldn’t hide.”

Johnny wheeled around in his chair. Standing next to the door, her face lit by the single candle she held, was a beautiful woman. She seemed to be floating in mid-air, a flowing, white robe fell from her shoulders to the floor.

He started to rise, but she held up her hand. “Please don’t get up.”

He had no choice. From out of the darkness, strong, claw-like fingers clamped down on his wrists, mashing them against the chair. He jerked his head around, but could see nothing. Were others holding him or just unattached hands?

His breath caught in his throat. A steel vice crushed his chest. He fought to swallow. “Wha…what do you want?” he stammered.

She smiled. Radiant. A face like an angel’s. With a sultry, but chilling voice she said, “You, my dear boy.”

She stepped closer. The candle hung behind her, suspended in mid-air.

More claws grabbed his ankles and knees, spreading them apart.

She stepped closer between his legs, then reached out and caressed his hair. Smiling, she rubbed the back of her fingers against his cheek. “You’re such a handsome young man. Much prettier than the last one…and the one before that.”

Johnny’s heart beat in his ears. He was hypnotized by her beauty and her eyes. She stared right through him into his soul. She dropped down and placed her palms gently on his thights. She lay her head against his chest. He felt her body through the thin, sheer robe.

His mind raced, trying to find a solution to the puzzle he was a piece of. It was a nightmare, but he was wide awake.

“Relax,” she cooed as she stood up. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her shoulders shrugged and the robe dropped away. She was wearing nothing underneath. She sat on his lap, her lips brushed against his ear. “Trick or treat,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes again, swept away by uncontrollable emotions and the erotic sensation of her tongue swishing against the side of his neck. He felt himself spinning into a deep, bottomless void.

“Hey, idiot.”

Johnny snapped awake. Chuck Henry, the all night deejay, was standing over him, a wicked smile on his face.

“I thought you were doing some special Halloween programming by playing “Thriller” over-and-over for an hour, but I guess you just fell asleep.”

Johnny rubbed his eyes and stared at the clock. It was midnight.

“It worked, though,” Chuck rattled on, “the phones are ringing off the hook.”

Johnny got out of his chair without a word and staggered down the hall to the bathroom. He turned on the cold water and splashed it against his face. After a few seconds, the fear that churned his stomach was barely a memory. He checked out his reflection and managed a crooked grin. “None the worse for the wear.”

He never noticed the two, tiny puncture wounds on his neck.

“Yo, Darkness!” Check’s voice stopped him as he was walking out the door. “You’ve got a caller on line one. She sounds hot.”

He hesitated only a moment before picking up the phone. The dream was almost forgotten. But the familiar voice brought it crashing back with a vengeance, freezing him with fear, yet exciting him at the same time.

“Happy Halloween.”

10/18/1994

I was born in Mississippi, in a little shack way out by the woods…everybody used to call me Patches…

Okay, so the “Patches” reference may be carrying it a bit too far. The fact is, I was born in Mississippi and raised on Country music. Unlike my contemporaries in the publishing field, my roots run deep. It’s harder to get any more Country than Columbia, Mississippi, a tiny town (population 5,000) in the southwestern part of the state. It wasn’t until I visited the big metropolis of Jackson that I realized I was a redneck. It didn’t take long after that realization to be proud of my neck.

My earliest dream was to be a Country music singing star. Unfortunately, unlike Rock & Roll, it is almost mandatory that to become a Country music singing star, one must be able to sing. Being a true redneck, I didn’t let this “small” default slow me down. Besides, I was surrounded by the best in my quest. At one of my first studio sessions (at Malaco Recordings in Jackson), the arranger and drummer was another young “comer” named James Stroud. Fortunately for James, he produced and played better than I sang. I kept saying it was the microphone. James made me believe the cotton he was jamming in his ears was because of an infection.

After listening to the final product, I, as a true redneck, blamed the outcome on the studio and material. So I tried Muscle Shoals. My fellow Mississippian, Mac McAnally, wrote the song and with Mac on guitar, I recorded an aptly named tune, “Another Dry Run.”

It was.

With all my money gone, I returned to radio and plotted and waited. I saved my money and went to Nashville. Reality sometimes gets through, even to a redneck. So maybe I couldn’t sing, but I could damn well produce. I had a couple of acts (who “acted” like they could sing) and I acted like I could produce. With all due respect to David Allan Coe, I even wrote the perfect Country song entitled, “The Number One Song In The Country.” I figured if I could get just one station to play it, at least a few people would know I had written the number one song in the country. You get the picture?

Nobody else did.

I returned to my home state to become Chief of Staff for the Governor. While in this position, I spearheaded the establishment of the Mississippi Music Hall of Fame. The first inductee? Charlie Pride. I then ran for Congress. Some of Nashville’s most prominent music executives were kind enough to contribute to my effort, though I suspect most, like Bruce Hinton, did so more to keep me from returning to radio than to send me to Washington. The run for Congress was more like a walk. Although my campaign manager (Harry Nelson, now PD of WBCS Boston) and I toyed with the idea of hitching two mules up to a wagon and barnstorming the district, the idea was nixed by my daddy who said he had a reputation to maintain. (Editor’s note: Harry kept one of the mules and lives with it to this day!) Rusty Walker claims he voted for me, but after analyzing the tabulations, we could account for every vote within my immediate family…except one. I’m convinced my brother turned on me at the last second. I think it was the mules that got him.

So I returned to radio…programming KFRC San Francisco for five years…much to the dismay of Jack Lameier. Jack was the guy who had to scramble for concert tickets for me every time Willie Nelson played anywhere near northern California.

I said all that to say this: I’m back. First I tried singing Country music. Second, I tried producing Country music. Now, I’ll write about Country music…and I promise you, the third time will be the charm.

The Country Section in Network 40 is a personal dream come true for me. It is the culmination of much hard work and research by the entire staff of the magazine. With the publishing of the Country Section comes a commitment from Network 40…a commitment to produce a weekly publication that serves the Country radio and record industries.

Barry Freeman, VP/Country Editor, will be opening our Nashville offices in December. In the coming weeks, we will be announcing additions to our Country staff to make Network 40’s Country Section the very best in the business.

How do we indend on achieving our goal? By reflecting the interests and needs of Country radio and Country record companies. Unlike R&R, Network 40 wants to know what you want. We won’t tell you what’s best for us. Our intent is to make your jobs easier…not dictate policy that undermines your ability to maximize your efforts. Network 40 is successful because we work with the record and radio industries.

I don’t have the room and you don’t have the time to point out all the problems with R&R’s Country Section. (I used the word “section” liberally.) One of the most glaring errors is evident in R&R’s chart weighting. Forget, if you can, all the other problems R&R has, (you won’t have to forget very long…we’ll remind you) the chart is ridiculous. Country music needs a chart based on criteria determined by Country radio popularity and Country music sales…not a weighting system used by all other formats. Country music is unique. The charts should reflect that.

Network 40 commissioned two research projects to identify Country music influence and sales. Instead of using Arbitron’s ADE (Area of Dominant Influence), Network 40 will use our own ACE (Area of Country Dominance). A market will be weighted by how it generates Country music listeners and Country music sales, not by total population and total record sales.

Many have shared their thoughts with us over the past few months. Your continued insights are what will make the Network 40 Country Section a true reflection of the realities within Country radio and music. We are working with Country programmers and music executives to insure an accurate, representative chart. And unlike R&R, we won’t print it until we get it right.

I want to thank each of you who are working with us to create the “perfect” Country Section. And I want to personally thank Rusty Walker for kicking my butt to get it done quicker.

Network 40 is proud to be a partner with the format of today and tomorrow. And we’re proud to move into our house in Music City, U.S.A.

10/18/1994

There must be some misunderstanding. There must be some kind of mistake. I waited for the add on Tuesday…you were late.

In an industry where tensions between record companies and radio stations increase every week, there are definitely misunderstandings. Unfortunately, the chasms of misunderstanding, in to many cases, are turning into canyons. The symbiotic relationship that exists between the record and radio industries causes more strife and turmoil than any other.

Record companies depend on radio to expose their product and stimulate sales. Radio depends on record companies to provide the product that causes people to listen. Yet these two industries, which depend so much on each other, couldn’t be further apart in the objectives. The ties that bind are stretching to the breaking point and there seems to be little, if anything, that can be done about it. For both industries, the old maxim, “Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em,” is the most accurate description.

Misunderstandings exist on both sides of the coin. In most cases, rather than trying to understand the other, each side tries to “use” the other for its own benefit. Both industries spend much time and money on charities and causes that promote understanding, caring and togetherness. We should devote just as much time to those same propositions as they relate to our day-to-day operations and relationships.

This misunderstanding starts from the very beginning. The vast majority of those working at record companies originally seek their employment because they have a deep passion for music. It’s extremely difficult, if not downright impossible, to find a record company staffer who is not passionate about music. This passion is reinforced by their daily environment. Although record company employees spend a lot of time in meetings concerned with budgets, cost-effectiveness and waste control, their world spins around music.

Record promoters are excited even before a band is signed by the energy generated around the activity. A&R heads share their excitement about new bands they’re chasing. When a band is signed, the entire company is elated. Often, before a new group enters the studio, staffers hear the band live at showcases. They are involved in the entire projects.

As the band prepares a forthcoming release, promotion people hear bits and pieces and the excitement builds. Much time and effort is spent within the halls of each record company to generate more excitement as the project builds. A record’s success means success all the way down the line in a record company. Breaking a new artist is like winning the Super Bowl.

A successful act makes a record company. The record company makes more money. A lot of people make more money. Promotions are awarded. Everything is right with the world.

It’s just a bit different in radio.

Radio programmers usually begin at the same point as their record company counterparts. Most get into the business because they are passionate about music. However, that passion is dimmed quickly by radio reality.

Unlike those in the record business, programmers’ bosses aren’t driven by a passion for music. In over 20 years as a programmer, I never once had a general manager tell me how much he liked a record we were playing. Few of them are aware of the music. Most don’t care.

About the only time a general manager comments on music is after a meeting with a big client who complains about something his daughter was listening to when he took her to school.

Radio isn’t concerned with building an act. Radio isn’t concerned about a new artist. Radio isn’t moved by the excitement within a label.

Programmers are concerned with keeping their jobs. PDs are concerned with the next rend. They are concerned with positioning. So when passion meets positioning, what to you get? Pissed off. A bigger question is, how do we get past this hurdle? The answer isn’t easy. Hard work, more understanding and lot of tender, loving care.

Record companies must be more understanding of the plight of individual programmers. Record promoters must move past the high-pressure hype and auctioneer attitudes and work with PDs toward a common goal. Programmers must rediscover the passion that moved them to get into the business in the first place. Not, of course, at the expense of the ratings, but for the greater success that lies beyond. As more entertainment entities compete for the audience, unique programming abilities may be the only thing that separates one from the pack. Those abilities should include your proclivity for selecting music your audience wants to hear.

Record companies should involve programmers earlier in the life of an artist. Too often, the only thing a programmer knows is that the record is out and has to be added this week. And when a programmer does step out and play a record early  and the act winds upu being a huge hit, what does the PD get? Congratulations from his general manager? A raise? If he’s lucky, maybe a Gold record.

Record companies need to involve programmers at the beginning of projects…and at the end. How many artists visit programmers to say thanks? Few. How many record companies spend as much time and money saying thank you for a successful project as they do for the add?

PDs must be concerned with breaking new acts and new ground. The future of all formats lies in fresh artists and sounds. Playing it too safe may earn short-term gains, but it will spell the death of the format in the long run.

Those in Country Music have done this since the beginning. They involve programmers from the start and, in most cases, also involve the artists so a connection can be made. It makes the process more than a hyperkinetic Tuesday frenzy. The programmers become passionate about the music and careers of the artists involved.

If we all spend a little more time acknowledging that we’re in this thing together…and more effort in involving each other with our own problems and passions, perhaps both industries could begin working together toward a common goal.

Success for both.

10/14/1994

“It’s raining so hard…I wish it would rain all night. (Do-dah.) This is the time, I’d love to be holding you tight. (Do-do-de-de.)I guess I’ll have to accept…the fact that you are not here. (Do-do-diddley-do.) I wish this rain would hurry up and clear…my dear.”

Oh, baby, baby.

I wax poetic…with a reason, I guess…and you hope. I woke up this morning and it was raining. For those of you reading this Editorial, you’re probably saying, “What’s the big deal?” And it probably isn’t a big deal where you live. But here in the land of the instant sunshine, rain is a surprise to most, a blessing to some and a downright shock to others.

When it rains in Los Angeles, drivers go completely insane. Nobody here has a clue how to drive when the pavement is wet. Get real. It never rains in Southern California. (I wonder if I’ll hear that today?) The only thing that drips on our streets is blood. And we know how to drive through that…hit the gas, duck down in the seat and swerve from side-to-side to make a hard target.

No so water. Especially water mixed with the oil that has accumulated on the asphalt all summer. We average about one wreck per mile. It makes for a slow commute.

Which brings me to the convoluted point I was trying to make when I began. I think.

Relatability. As it relates to radio. More specifically, how it relates to how your audience relates to your station.

Did I lose you? Or can you relate?

I make this point because I’m one of the few people in Los Angeles who can drive in the rain while listening to the radio (at the same time chewing gum and maybe even making a mobile phone call). And while I was doing all those things on the way to work this morning (while singing the lyrics that began this muse), I noticed that not one deejay was relating to what I was having to relate to. Given the fact that Howard Stern is on satellite out of New York, I could understand why he wasn’t talking about the weather. But the rest of my favorite stations had no excuse.

In today’s programming world of computer-generated music lists, quarter-hour liner cards and force-fed slogans, most deejays have lost contact with their audience. Feel free to check me if I’m wrong, but if you lose contact with your audience, you’re in a world of trouble. Don’t misunderstand, I don’t expect the guy I’ve got tuned it to know I spilled coffee in my lap, but it is raining outside, fella, something that hasn’t happened in almost a year. The raid does affect my drive and the rest of my day. Am I asking too much that you at least acknowledge the fact? I know you’ve got to pimp that slogan and give away those concert tickets and read those stupid jokes you heard on last night’s Letterman show, but damn it, “Can’t You Feel The Rain?” I can.

In our haste to cut costs please the internal audience (managers and sales people for the most part) of the radio station, it is easy to lose focus on what we as programmers are paid to do: Increase the audience share. You often we paint broad strokes and forget about the fine brushes that make our radio station a favorite with the listeners.

In today’s radio world, it’s almost impossible to set yourself apart from your competition simply with the music mix. Unless you’re extremely lucky, or in a tiny market, you are competing directly with other stations in your format and indirectly with many that sample the same music mix.

One of the elements that can’t be duplicated by other stations in your market is your air talent. A good personality can rise above the mathematics of the format and edge your ratings higher. Of course, the converse is true…bad personalities can also tube it. So it is imperative that you take the time to make your deejays be more than automatons. They must relate. And to relate, they must cover the basics.

The simple things are the most obvious…the most important…and the most often overlooked.

Listening.

A program director must listen to the radio station. Not in the office. Not just on the way home…but the way the audience listens. A good programmer should take off one weekday each month and drive around the market with the radio playing loud. How can you expect the audience to listen to you don’t? How can you expect the audience to relate if you can’t? One day each month spent listening…and nothing else…can make a big difference.

But it shouldn’t stop there. The air staff should also be forced to listen. It’s not enough that a personality cuts to a traffic report. The deejay has to be able to relate to traffic problems…or weather problems…or whatever to make a connection with the audience. Every month, each deejay should spend his shift in the car driving to work…or driving home…or visiting the malls…or wherever the audience is when the deejay is usually on the air. The personality must know what his listeners are going through…not just guess or assume.

Time spent with your air talent, one-on-one, is also extremely important. Don’t expect them just to do their job. Demand it. Take the time to let them know what you want and explain it in a way they can understand.

In this business of communication, we too often fail to communicate with those who can make our station a success. Or maybe we don’t know how.

Lorna Ozmon of Ozmon Media is one of the industry’s leaders in developing talent. She’s developed techniques based on theater arts and psychology disciplines. She has seven keys that she considers important in coaching air personality development. Next week, in this column, you can share her ideas and maybe translate them to your staff in a way that could give you immediate results in the sound and relatability of your station.

I can’t listen them now, because I hear Slim Harpo singing, “Raining In My Heart” on the radio. I don’t know what station because I just can’t relate.

Maybe next week.