Category: Commentaries

Viva Las Vegas

12/11/1998

It was a mistake from the start.  I should have known from the moment I woke up, but the dye had been cast, plans had been made, money had been hoarded and supplies attained.  I was way past the point of no return, even after seeing a color picture on the front of the the L.A. Times showing two inches of snow in Las Vegas.

Snow in Las Vegas?  And you expect to double down on eleven and get anything except an ace?

Snow in Las Vegas?  The hookers are wearing furs.

But being the fool that I am, I plunged ahead, ignoring the miracle of God that screamed, “Don’t go!”  No less a prophet than Moses ignored the burning bush, who am I to get a revelation?

The Billboard Music Awards were live in Las Vegas.  Being the cynic that I am, I abhor awards shows.  But my girlfriend isn’t jaded…yet.  I thought this a perfect opportunity to prove to her that award shows and banquets are just a bore.  A shower of stars singing their hits just doesn’t get it done for those of us in the business.  Unless Elvis comes back for a concert, we aren’t interested.  And even then, our seats better be good or we’re not going.

In my infinite wisdom, I figured this would be a perfect opportunity to give her a lesson.  The show was, after all, in Las Vegas.  We could have a good time, in spite of the boredom of the acceptance speeches.  Then, the next time one of these things comes up, she won’t be so excited and will be more than satisfied to drop by the obligatory parties afterwards to see and be seen.

The plane ride over gave a hint of what was to come. Steve Zapp, Bruce Reiner and Deb Peterson were standing in line, waiting for their tickets while working the cell phones.  We went immediately to the bar for Bloody Marys.  It didn’t help

Checking into the great hotel, I was informed that on my last trip, I had only lost a couple of grand, not enough for the room to be comped. They were kind enough, however, to give me the big $1250 suite for $250…like they were going to be able to sell it to anyone else on a Monday night.  But I forged ahead.

Tickets to the show were accompanied by seat belts and altitude sickness pills.  I won’t say the seats were in the rafters, but when Garth Brooks flew high in the air with the help of wires attached to a special harness, we were looking down on him.  Stevie Wonder could see better than us.

I was making a great impression.

The show itself was a clinic in bad production. I’ve seen better at the UCLA Film School. We left after Mariah thanked Tommy and Don…the only class move in the show, besides her performance.

John Kilgo, who’s ruined his career by taking a job with Jeff McClusky, offered to buy us dinner at The Palm. I’m always up for a free meal, so we accepted.

That’s when the night turned really ugly.

After dinner and six bottles of vintage wine, Kilgo noticed a woman walking into the restaurant and commented on how he might ask her to join us. I sneaked a peek.

“That’s no woman,” I told John. “It’s a guy in a dress.”

Kilgo protested, insisting it was the woman of his dreams.

A waiter overheard our conversation and joined in. “You’re discussing the cute number in the green dress?”

“My friend says she’s a he,” Kilgo growled. “Tell him the truth.”

The waiter smiled. “Her name is David. He works for us.”

It was the end of the line for old, “Why is it?” He quickly paid the check and tried not to panic, even when David smiled and tried to slip him a phone number.

We went looking for programmers to join us in the suite for a party. It was slim pickings…reminiscent of a Hitmakers convention. We managed to gather a few lost souls and trudged up the strip to the hotel. The wind was cold and hard, slapping our faces like the hand of a pimp against the cheek of a lazy working girl.

The party got wild. Security was called on three different occasions, but not until the grand piano went through the plate glass window did the volume really start to red-line.

Fortunately, Larry (the accountant for K-Ci & JoJo) paid for all the damages. MCA will see it when he asks for the next advance.

Our group got sloppy drunk and unruly. Zapp lost his plane ticket on a last-minute parlay at the crap table, Deb ate french fries, Reiner got married in the Velvet Elvis Chapel with all of us as witnesses and my girlfriend wants to go to the Grammys.

As for Kilgo? He left with David.

A Family Affair

8/28/1998

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VP

8/7/1998

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

What’s a promotion executive to do?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Very pathetic.

Are You Game?

6/5/1998

The Network 40 Summer Games II June 25-27 in Lake Tahoe are sold out!  As record companies line up their teams, the wolf whistles are getting louder.

We’re hearing a lot of, “My team can beat your team” and “My daddy can whip your daddy” already.

The Network 40 Summer Games were conceived over three years ago at a small gathering consisting or myself, Bruce Tenenbaum and Mark Gorlick.  We were criticizing (of course) a convention that had just concluded.  During our conversation, we bagged all conventions in general.  And it wasn’t just three lone voices crying out in the wilderness.  We were vocalizing the criticisms we shared with every person in the business.

Radio and record conventions are boring. The panels and discussions are a joke.  And they are boring.  The meetings go on too long.  And they’re boring.  There are 100 record people to every programmer.  Nothing is ever accomplished.  Conventions are a waste of time.  And they are boring.

These criticisms were coupled with the mood of the day.  Never before was there such a chasm between those in the record business and those in radio.

We like to believe last year’s inaugural Summer Games helped change that attitude.

There is no doubt that both businesses have changed drastically in the past few years.  Promotion executives spend more time in meetings inside the company than having productive meetings with programmers.  More often than not, the only contact promotion people have with programmers is on the phone…and those conversations tend to be about the immediate possibility of an add.

What about long-term relationships?  In today’s world, a promotion person’s opinion of a programmer depends on what records were added in a given week.

It’s the same for PD.  More time is spent in meetings than listening to music.  A PD’s time is more valuable than anything.  When a PD picks up a phone to talk with someone in the record business, it’s usually, “What can you do for me right now?”

In a business that demands relationships on both sides, we are becoming too busy to establish them. And we need these relationships to survive.

No PD is going to add every record.  A promotion person’s job is to get a PD to consider the record.  Occasionally, one must ask a programmer for a favor…”Would you please listen to my record and to what I have to say about my record?”

You cannot ask a favor without having a relationship.  And you cannot have a relationship without spending time…quality time.

The same is true from the programming side.  You can’t ask a favor of a promotion executive without having a relationship, unless you want to barter and trade.  But if you have a relationship, the promotion person will be more than happy to oblige because both know the other will be there in the future.

This is why we came up with the idea of the Network 40 Summer Games.  It’s is an opportunity to create relationships.  There is nothing else like it.

This year, everybody seems to be having a convention.  It’s particularly funny to me that after the success of last year’s Summer games,  R&R decided to have a convention in 1998 and scheduled it two weeks before the Network 40 Summer Games II.  Coincidence?  Hardly.  It doesn’t matter.  R&R doesn’t get it…never has…never will.

I hope every person who attends the Network 40 Summer Games II also goes to the R&R overkill.  The difference is obvious.

Why aren’t we having speakers?  Because we don’t learn anything from speakers of panels.  Would you rather hear Kevin Weatherly speak about programming to a large group or would you rather have the opportunity to ask him specific programming questions in a relaxed atmosphere?  Would you rather hear Burt Baumgartner give a speech about promotion or would you rather ask him about promotion?

The Network 40 Summer Games II gives you the opportunity to talk one-on-one with your peers and counterparts.  The games are small for a reason…so every person who attends will have the opportunity to spend quality time with everyone else there.

You will establish relationships with those you only knew as distant voices.  You’ll make friends.  Hey, you’ll also make enemies.  You’re not going to click with everyone, but after the Network 40 Summer Games II, You’ll have a reason to hate specific people!

Because of the success of last year’s Summer Gamers, the vast majority of industry people know the Network 40 Summer Games II will provide a unique opportunity to compete and get to know each competitor.  Virtually every record company has committed to being a part of the most unique event in the history of our business.  Most know it will be very special gathering in a very special place that will be talked about for years to come.  A small minority continue to ask, “Why?”  Why is it so expensive?  (Because it’s small and special.)  Why aren’t there any panels?  (Because panels are stupid and boring.)  Why should I go?  (To spend quality time with others in your business…you might even learn something.)  Why are we playing games?  (Because competition builds relationships.)  Why can’t I wait until next year?  (Sure, wait another year to establish relationships.)

If you decide not to attend, all of these questions will be irrelevant.  You’ll only have to answer on question:

Why weren’t you there?

And The Research Says…

4/24/1998

Want to strike fear into the heart of a promotion person?  Mention the IRS?  Bring up a rumor about a significant other?  Talk about the record company going out of business?

All of these are workable.

Try this one:  “I heard your record isn’t researching well.”

Short of a real heart attack, nothing stops the blood flowing to a record executive’s brain quicker.

Why?

Because there is very little a promotion person can do to rationalize a bad research report card.

No sales?  “Hey, stock isn’t in the market yet.”  No requests?  “It’s a passive adult record.”  Poor research?  “Ah, um, well…”

What’s a mother to do?

It’s difficult, impossible even, to spin information over which you have no control.  Promotion people are paid to provide answers…to programmers and to their company.  There’s no accurate answer to the question:  Why isn’t the record testing well?

Programmers are constantly searching for pieces of information that will give their station an edge.  There is more information available now than ever before.  Stations spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to research everything from commercials to records.  This information is dissected and dissected again until a programmer has distilled all the exact information needed to make decisions that will eventually effect the ultimate success of their station.

Unfortunately, programmers are often looking for excuses…reasons not to do something.  Too many programmers have a difficult time just saying, “No.”  This is particularly true in dealing with record company executives.  If a programmer tells a promotion person a record isn’t right for the station, there immediately follows a lengthy diatribe on the record’s attributes…complete with more information.

However, programmers can stop a promotion person cold with the statement, “It isn’t testing well.”

Are there any viable responses?

“Ah, you haven’t played it long enough.”  “Well, it’s a bit early for positive research, don’t you think?”  “If you up the spins, the research will turn positive.”

The problem is that promotion people are dealing from a defensive position.  Any time you’re hit first, it makes it more difficult to recover with a snappy comeback.

Columbia’s Charlie Walk is especially tuned in to the research “problem.”  In discussing this subject last week, he stated the importance of knowledge in dealing with a programmer’s use of research as a weapon.

Promotion people should be ahead of the curve.  Too often, a promotion person relaxes when a record is added.  To many, their job is done. Oh, there’s some thought to increasing the spins, but that’s down the road.  In today’s word, your job isn’t done when a record is added…in reality, that’s when your job really begins.

A good record executive will chart the progress of records with all the stations that are playing it—especially records by new acts or acts that haven’t attained superstar status.  These records are in particular jeopardy and need the most special care.

Instead of waiting for a programmer to tell you a record is testing poorly, you should already have a feel.  Find a programmer who adds your record early and also does extensive research.  Network with this programmer to get an early reading on the research.  If, indeed, your record tests poorly out-of-the-box, share this information with other programmers.  Let them know that the record doesn’t test well initially.  Explain when (if you have the story) the record begins to pick up speed in the research race.  This way, a programmer can’t use the research club against you.  You’ve already shared this information before the programmer begins

Programmers believe promotion people have limited knowledge about radio.  In too many instances, programmers are right. Promotion people are sometimes too busy doing their job to find ways of doing their job better.  The more you know about radio, the more interesting you are to programmers.  They expect you to know about your records.  They expect you to bore them about your records.  What programmers don’t expect is a promotion person who has knowledge about radio.

What does this do?

It gives you an advantage when you don’t have a slam dunk.  And how many uncontested layups do we have today?

Do you know what kind of research your radio station does?  Do you know how many records your radio station researches in a week?  How many people are in their panel?  Who prepares the hook tapes?  Is the research in-house or does the station use a service?

How do you find out the answers to these question?  You ask.  Programmers are only too happy to discuss their jobs.  Promotion people should spend more time listening.  A great sales person once told me, “If you’re trying to sell your radio station to the Coca Cola distributor, you don’t talk about your radio station…you talk about soda pop.”

The same is true for promotion people.  Don’t be afraid of research.  Embrace it.  Find out about it.  Then, use it to your advantage.

You can’t always have a good research, any more than you can always have good records.  But with a little work on your part, you can find good answers.

You might even find great ones!

Cacophonous Symphony

3/6/1998

 

“I can’t hear you.”

 

That’s today’s operative phrase in the record and radio industry. A lot of people are talking…but nobody’s listening.

 

What a sad state of affairs, especially when you consider why most of us got into this business. We were great listeners.

 

Can you still remember when you first felt a desire to be a part of the music industry? What stimulated you? Was it reading about a great deal someone had pulled off? Was it hearing about an egomaniacal record company executive berating employees? Was it someone bragging about how an act was stolen from another label?

 

Nope.

 

You were listening to music. It touched something deep within your soul and you wanted to be a part of it. You really didn’t know what “it” was…but you wanted to be there.

 

You were a great listener. Maybe you listened to the lyrics of a particular song and got hooked. Maybe it was the production. Maybe it was the whole package.

 

Those drawn into the music business might be ambiguous about the defining moment that shaped the course of their future, but rest assured it had something to do with “listening” to music.

 

It more exact with radio freaks. You remember growing up, listening to your favorite station. Maybe it was a particular jock…or one great break that made you decide you wanted to be a part of radio. You knew you could be just as cool as the guy on the air. You wanted to say hip things, be the life of the party and play your favorite songs.

 

That was the key. What cool job. You’re paid for “listening” to music.

 

So we get into the business because we’re great listeners. Those who succeed continue to listen. Remember when you first started, how you were a sponge? You couldn’t soak up enough knowledge. If someone wasn’t talking, you asked questions so you could “hear” the answers. You listened.

 

A funny thing happened on the way to the top. We stopped listening.

 

It’s easy in our business to stop doing the one thing that makes us successful. Too easy.

 

Record promotion people are paid to promote…paid to talk. The information available today about specific records is gargantuan. If it was chocolate, we would all be fat and pimpled. Promotion people have more useless information than ever before to bore even the most open-minded programmer.

 

So what do we do? We talk. And talk. And talk some more.

 

As easy as it is for promotion people to stop listening, it doesn’t compare to the opportunities afforded programmers. As deejays, we’re paid to talk. Hey, what a great gig! Does that mean the more I talk, the more I get paid? No, but many go on as if compensated by the word.

 

The difference between promotion people and programmers can’t be measured in tonnage. Both talk. But with promotion people, the subject changes with the record releases.

 

No so most programmers. The one topic many seem suck on is “I.” That’s sad.

 

I was privileged enough to spend a week the other night with a young music director who had all the answers. Not that he was answering any questions. Nobody could get a word in edgewise. Here is a person whose career is like a balloon. It can go up or down…depending on hot air.

 

Not only was this person not listening to anybody else…he wasn’t even listening to himself! Had he stopped and listened to his own words, he would have been embarrassed by his lack of knowledge, ashamed of his unabashed ego and afraid that he was losing his mind.

 

The babblings of a fool will make you question your sanity…especially when you’re the fool who’s babbling.

 

So what does the industry do with these two insensitive groups…promoters and PDs? We insist they work together.

 

How crazy are we?

 

Promotion people don’t listen. They’re too busy talking about their records. It is sweet irony that the people they’re paid to talk with aren’t listening either. Programmers don’t want to “listen” to what a promotion person is saying. A PD will barely listen to a record, much less the rhetoric about it.

 

Programmers want to talk about themselves. There is no “I” in programmer or promoter, but there is in “idiot,” which is what you are when you stop listening.

 

Who do you think you are? You have the audacity to believe your opinion is the only one that matters? Are you so stupid to believe that if you’re talking, it must mean something? Are you insane enough to think no one else might have a better idea than you?

 

If you answered “yes” to any of the above, you’re guilty. You’re also an idiot and an asshole.

 

Our industry has become a cacophonous symphony…filled with pontification for ego’s sake. Forget cocaine, heroin or crack, record and radio execs are hooked on extemporaneous bullshit…the drug of the 90s.

 

What’s really sad is the ones who are the most susceptible to diarrhea of the mouth won’t believe this Editorial is about them. They can probably talk a good 15 minutest on how it’s not about them. They’re too busy talking to stop and think.

 

You got where you are today by listening. The question is: Where do you want to be tomorrow?

 

If you listen, you might find out.

Louder

2/20/1998

 

I spent Valentine’s Day with Greg Fry. As two of L.A.’s most eligible bachelors, we can’t have dates for Valentine’s Day because, invariably, the ladies get the wrong idea and we run the risk of breaking hearts. (This is, of course, a nice way of saying that two losers couldn’t score companionship on the most romantic night of the year, so we wound up hanging out with each other.)

 

Two guys discussing radio…Greg in his earl 30s, me nearly 40. (Why do you have to be in your late 30s to be “nearly 40?” If you’re just past your 40th birthday, aren’t you as “nearly 40” as if you were 38? I think so and since it’s my Editorial, I’m nearly 40.) Anyhow, after several bottles of beer and as many glasses of wine, what did we wound up doing? All together, radio geeks:

 

Listening to airchecks.

 

Only people in radio understand. It’s a disease. When two or more radio freaks are gathered together at someone’s house with alcohol involved, we wind up listening to airchecks.

 

Afterwards, the discussion turned to high-energy radio and why stations abandoned that delivery. The next day, between three-putts, I posed the same question to Scott Shannon and Dan Kieley. Nobody had a definitive answer.

 

Top 40 radio abandoned its high-energy approach several years ago…not because it wasn’t working, but because PDs just opted to go another way. No high-energy Top 40 was beaten in the ratings by a more “mellow” approach. So, what happened?

 

Blame the consultants. It’s an easy out…and not exactly accurate…but close enough. Consider my reasoning: Most consultants are hired by management. Very few managers are comfortable with high-energy radio. Too many negatives are associated with that delivery.

 

Consultants don’t program, they consult. They don’t listen, they analyze research. Most consultants try and reduce negatives from their client stations. Subjective research says the audience hates too much clutter, too much talk and screaming deejays who rap over the beginning of songs.

 

When the consultant suggests eliminating these negatives, the biggest fan is the manager…who doesn’t like these things either.

 

There you have it.

 

Subjective research is extremely dangerous and basing decisions on this information should only be done by the PD. Allow me to shed light on some subjective research: When KIIS, Z100 and KFRC were dominating their markets, what were the biggest complaints from listeners? Too much clutter, too much talk and stupid deejays who rapped over the intros to records.

 

However, these same listeners were the core audience They like those stations because the stations were fun to listen to.

 

It’s an interesting point to note that clutter…meaning too many commercials…was always the first thing mentioned, yet no manager cut the commercial load because the audience didn’t like it.

 

To their credit, consultants also insist that their client radio stations should sound “fun.” But a consultant isn’t programming the station. It’s up to the PD to take the advice of a consultant, then make programming decisions based on what makes the radio station sound best.

 

Be careful of subjective research. It’s dangerous…particularly when used by the wrong people. Consider subjective research used by NBC for the top-rated Seinfeld show. Sixty-two percent of the television audience doesn’t watch the show because they don’t like the jokes and can’t identify with the characters. Thirty-eight percent watch the show because they think the jokes are funny and identify with the characters. A consultant might suggest changing the jokes and characters to attract a larger audience. The head of programming might tell the consultant to get bent.

 

It’s interesting to note that KIIS and Z100 began losing listeners about the same time high-energy was abandoned. I know other factors were involved, but humor me for a second. Both of these stations employed the top consultants to no avail. Both stations began regaining listeners when Kieley and Tom Poleman re-energized the sound. It’s also interesting to note that WXKS Boston and WFLZ Tampa have continued to dominate their markets over the years by never wavering from their high-energy approach.

 

Does it work today? Our panel of “experts” says, “Yes.” To those consultants and managers who moan that older demos would desert, may I point out the most successful 25-54 station in the country: KRTH Los Angeles. KRTH is filled with hih-energy promotions like “The Big Kahuna,” stupid phrases like “King Kong Cash” and jocks who talk up every vocal and hit every post. It isn’t just the music, or every Oldies station would share KRTH’s billing.

 

The audience wants to identify with a station. They…and the station…want to have fun. Consider these factors when you’re studying subjective research. Every successful station has negatives associated with it. The more successful, the more negatives…also the more positives. Weigh the criticism against your programming judgment.

 

Remember, if 90% of the available audience doesn’t like your station, you’ll have a 10 share, a bonus, a new contract and your choice of teams at the Network 40 Summer Games in Lake Tahoe June 25-27.

 

Go home, break out some airchecks, then return to the station and kick it up a notch!

Stupidity Is Timeless

2/13/1998 

I got a note from Mark McKay last week. We worked together at KFRC San Francisco, B95 Kansas City and Y106 Orlando. Mark is on the air in Kansas City and told me he was listening to old airchecks of KFRC to find bits and breaks he could use because, as he said, “…stupidity is timeless.”

 

It’s the best phrase I’ve heard yet to describe the radio and record business. Nowhere is stupidity more relevant than when analyzing conventions. 

Forever, all of us in our industry have been making the tiresome trek to one convention or another that promises to deliver speakers, workshops and hardware that will make our industrial lives easier. In the entertainment business, where hyperbole is next to Godliness, no statement falls as far from its promise.

 

Stupidity is timeless. Witness last week’s Gavin convention. Now don’t get me wrong, my good friend Dave Sholin does a great job. The convention is well-attended. It certainly is the only large convention you should attend. R&R’s convention (speaking of stupidity being timeless) will be worthless. But large conventions are becoming more of a pain in the ass instead of brain food that is promised. 

Gavin does a good job. But its success is the very thing that serves to its detriment. It’s just too big.

 

And can we please have a moratorium on panels? When is the last time anyone said anything worthwhile during a panel discussion? If one of the panelists happened to drop a pearl of wisdom, would anyone in the audience be awake to hear it? 

The Top 40 panel was by far the most interesting, but my legs still went to sleep. And it wasn’t because of the speakers involved. All are knowledgeable programmers who have wisdom to share. But when five people are vying for air time, you wind up with a lot of dead air. Besides, stations and markets are so different now, what is perfect for one successful station in a major market won’t work for another station in a different place. Instead of listening to Tom Poleman and Dan Kieley on the same panel talking about apples and oranges, wouldn’t it be better to listen to Tom Poleman speak for 30 minutes about what makes Z100 successful, then have the opportunity to listen to Dan Kieley take us through the same routine with KIIS? Having both on the same panel (with two or three other successful programmers) doesn’t serve the audience…or the PDs who are involved.

 

Panel discussions are kind of like programming by committee: There are a lot of good ideas, but by the time the ideas get out, they don’t matter any more. 

The chief complaint about conventions is that panels are boring. Yet most conventionas schedule more panels. That’s like doing call-out research and upping the rotation on songs that are showing the most burn.

 

Gavin manages the best large convention in our industry. But is it too large to serve the needs of those who attend? Do you not wind up seeing everyone, but spend quality time with no one? 

Can you tell I’m leading up to a point? Ah, yes: The 1998 Network 40 Summer Games in Lake Tahoe June 25-27.

 

There are no panels. No boring speakers. No meetings you have to doze through. And even more exciting…no awards ceremony that lasts longer than it takes to download The Beatles library on the Internet. 

There are only 200 people…100 from record companies…100 from radio. It’s a ration you can’t find in most radio station lobbies…much less the conventions.

 

Does that mean you learn less? Hardly. What other setting provides you the opportunity to forge relationships with your peers on a one-to-one basis? Where else can you compete in games of skill and fun with and against others in our industry? 

Would you rather listen to a boring panel discussion or ask specific, face-to-face questions to the PDs and radio executives you only glimpse from a crowd at a convention?

 

It’s a slam dunk. (We’ve added that to the competition this year!) 

Stupidity is timeless. For two years, we did our research to find out what the industry wanted. Last year, Network 40 took the positives, ditched the negatives and dared to do something never before attempted.

 

Guess what? It worked. The inaugural Network 40 Summer Games were the most successful and talked-about event of 1997. And we’re “stupid” enough to do it again this year. 

The Network 40 Summer Games is the most exclusive gathering of radio and record people in the history of our business. It’s exclusive for a reason. You can’t be all things to all people. We don’t try. By offering one-on-one opportunities with those in our industry, you have the opportunity to forge new, personal relationships that will last long after the Summer Games become history.

 

Those who believe relationships are made through casual dinners with 50 or more people are deluding themselves. And if there’s someone more important than you at the table, you’re totally out of luck. 

The Network 40 Summer Games provides the intimate setting that will make it easier to expand your relationships. Plus, we’ve all heard the stories about your athletic prowess. You can talk the talk…but can you walk the walk?

 

Stupidity is timeless. 

So is brilliance!

Shout At The Mirror

 2/6/1998

We live in a strange world…and it’s getting stranger by the minute. Baseball players spit on umpires. Basketball players try to kill their coaches. Everyone seems intent on blaming their problems on someone else. 

In the history of society, never have so many bitched about so much. Passing the buck has become the national pastime.

It’s difficult to find an individual who will admit to a mistake. When is the last time you heard someone say: “I’m sorry. I screwed up.” 

No. It’s never our fault. It’s the mail. It’s our assistant. It’s the other guy. It’s never us.

This concept of blaming someone else has always been part and parcel of the radio and record business. There are too many easy targets. The GM can always blame the PD. The PD can blame Arbitron or the Sales Manager. The record company A&R department can blame the promotion department. Promotion can blame A&R. When all else fails, record companies can blame radio. 

But it’s a fact that somebody is responsible. Identifying that person (or group of people) and getting the person to take responsibility is another story.

The entertainment industry, be it motion pictures, professional sports, records or radio, is filled with those who are quick to blame others for their own inadequacies. Accepting responsibility and affecting change to make ourselves better isn’t something that’s done often. Failure is something that’s always someone else’s fault. These feeling of inadequacy usually take the form of loud griping. Sometimes, lawsuits are threatened or instigated. In a few instances, someone steps way over the line. 

Which brings me to the subject of this Editorial.

Nikki Sixx, Tommy Lee, Vince Neil and Mick Mars, the four mediocre musicians who comprise the group, Motley Crue, have never been hesitant to cross the line. As a matter of fact, this group of posers has gone so far over the line that they’ve almost become an invisible blur across some distant horizon. 

Recently, they’ve set a new record for jumping over the line…and this time, it could be impossible for them to jump back.

Motley Crue was big for about a minute. It’s too bad the group couldn’t just fade away like one of their mid-chart records. But no, they must go kicking and screaming into their good night continuing to be “as bad as they want to be.” The difference is, Dennis Rodman can still rebound. Motley Crue can’t even bounce.

In a recent tirade, Nikki Sick blamed all of the band’s problems on Elektra Records Chairperson Sylvia Rhone. When describing Sylvia, he also used the “C” word. 

Nikki, boy, get a grip.

The Crues latest album, which Nikki predicted would sell around three million, is stuck at the 250,000 mark…a feat considered remarkable by most in the record industry, given the lackluster songs that litter the CD. The majority of those sales came in the first week, stimulated by thousands of dollars in marketing money spent by Elektra. Diehard fans wanted to see if Motley Crue could make a comeback with Vince Neil’s return as the lead singer. 

It seems no one was impressed.

Nikki pretended to be the Pied Piper (who had a better voice) and led a recent audience in a half-full concert venue in the singing of “Fuck Elektra.”

Nikki has never been approached to become a member of MENSA. 

Nikki Sixx has lost his mind. Blaming the record company for lack of sales is past ridiculous. Record companies are in the business to make money. I’ve never heard a label head say, “We’re investing hundreds of thousands of dollars on this CD an we’re really hoping it doesn’t sell a copy. We want it to stiff.”

Nikki wants to blame someone for the lack of sales of Motley Crue’s latest album. So he calls the president of his label a derogatory term and asks his fans to “Fuck Elektra.” I’m sure it made everyone at the concert want to rush out and purchase the CD. Trouble is, Nikki’s fans spent all their money on booze, drugs and bail money. So they fuck Elektra (and Nikki) by not buying the album. 

Through it all, Elektra Chairperson Sylvia Rhone has reacted in her typically classy fashion. As usual, she has remained above the fray. However, let me give Mr. Sixx a warning: I know Sylvia a lot better than you do. Keep using the “C” word and the “N” word and one day you’ll find you’ve made a huge mistake.

Hey, Nikki. Here’s a news flash: Sylvia Rhone and Elektra Records aren’t your problem. Instead of blaming her, why don’t you look in the mirror and at the others in your group and ask why you don’t write better lyrics and play better songs? No record company in the world can prevent a hit from happening (why would they want to?)…anymore than it can make a stiff sell…as illustrated by the latest Motley Crue record. 

Please give all this ranting at the moon a rest. You’re boring. Go back into the studio and cut a hit record. Instead of putting Sylvia Rhone down, seek her input. She knows what she’s doing. And despite what you’ve said, she would love for you to have a smash.

You’ve got two choices: Update your tired act and become a part of the future…or be buried with your mediocre past. 

Amnesia

1/23/1998

Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?

We live and work in a business that goes through more change than a toll booth operator.  Unfortunately, we don’t always have our quarters ready.

If you’re in radio, you should always be ready to move.  Losing your job is a fact of our business.  It doesn’t matter how good you are, you are destined to move on.  It’s the nature of this beast.

Why?  There are a thousand reasons.  Maybe you get complacent.  Maybe you start to slip.  Maybe another station signs on in your market and cuts into your audience.  Maybe you get a bad drop.  Maybe a new GM comes in and wants to hire his former PD.  Maybe the popular morning personality hates you.  Maybe your station is sold.

If none of these situations arise, there’s always “philosophical differences.”  That’s a joke.  There is no philosophy in radio with which to disagree.

However, getting fired isn’t the subject of this Editorial.  This is about what happens after you get fired.  Or more accurately, what actions you take when another gets fired.

Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?

The relationships between PDs and those doing record promotion are nervous at best.  Those relationships must be built on mutual trust.  It takes time.  And it takes consistency.

Do relationships really matter in today’s over-researched world of programming and promotion?  Of course.  Those who think differently have no relationships.

Can a relationship stop a hit record?  No.  Can relationships make a stiff become a hit?  Of course not.  But there are hundreds of records vying for spots each month…records that are unproven.  And relationships can get those records played to find out if they are indeed hits.

Promotion people are paid to establish relationships with programmers so a record can get a shot.  I’ve written several Editorials about how to establish those relationships.  But one important factor seems to be the most overlooked…especially in today’s ever changing landscape.  What happens when the person with whom you’ve developed a relationship gets fired?

Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?

Too many times, you lose contact.  Not because you drift away, but because you stop doing your job.  You do nothing to continue the relationship.

The most important time to call a person, the time when you will make the biggest impression, the time to really cement a relationship…is when the other person is out of a job…or out of your specific format.

A promotion person who doesn’t keep in contact with a programmer after s/he loses a job is a poor example of a record executive.  Not only is this job failure, it’s stupid.

Where do you think these out-of-work programmers are going to wind up?  At the State Department?  Almost 99.99% will get another programming gig in radio.  And each will make you pay dearly because you “forgot” their phone number.  And out-of-work programmers aren’t fooled by that “one-time” phone call.  We’re talking about consistent, “how are you?” calls.  It won’t take much time and will come back in spades.

If, on the other hand, you get amnesia when one of your programmers gets fired, expect  s/he to develop the same malady once another job is landed.

It goes the other way as well. Programmers who depend on record people to supply them with all the freebies should keep in touch if the record person goes down in flames.  Otherwise, payback is a bitch.

Need examples?  How about all those who fawned over APD/MD Bruce St. James at KPWR Los Angeles?  Bruce goes to an Oldies station in San Diego and can’t get a phone call returned.  Guess what?  He’s back at KKFR Phoenix.

Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?

One of the very best in the business is Arista’s Richard Palmese.  When I was in radio, Richard and I weren’t particularly close, yet every time I got blown out (and believe me, it was a lot), one of the first (and last) calls I got was from Richard, inquiring as to whether there was anything he could do.

Are there any of you who have “lost” Steve Kingston’s number since he’s programming Howard Stern?  Is there anyone out there who believes Kingston won’t be programming a Top 40 station in the near future?

Ask Scott Shannon who he talked with today.  It’s those who called after he walked the plank at Pirate Radio in L.A.

What about those who forgot about Bill Richards when he left KIIS?  He’s only one of the largest consultants in the business now…and still not taking your calls.

How many of you called Rick Gillette when he was ousted in Detroit?  Did you really think he would work at Network 40 for the rest of his life?  (Okay, bad example.  He didn’t return my calls when he worked here!)

On the flip side, how many PDs lost contact with Peter Napoliello after EMI folded?  Now he’s running A&M with jobs to fill and promotions to give.

Bottom line:  If you want to be special in this business, you have to be special to those with whom you seek relationships.  Don’t forget about them when they’re between jobs…and that’s what it is…between.  Programmers are like roaches…they will be back.  Keeping in touch is good business…plus, it’s the right thing to do.

Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?

I can’t remember.