The Beautiful People

2/3/1995

Hold everything.

“You couldn’t get a limo? Only a town car?”

I sighed heavily. In Tinsel Town, where style is all that matters, I was caught in a major dilemma. We had good tickets to the American Music Awards, but Burt called too late to get a limo.

This was a tough call.

“They said they could go to an outside vendor for a limo or send a town car.”

I frowned. It was imperative that the driver be familiar with the ugliness that would take over the AMA parking lot when the show ended. An outsider could be mobbed, or worse, put in the back of the line which would stick you at the Shrine for hours. I was only going with Burt because I couldn’t arrive with my “real” date. She was appearing on the show and I couldn’t meet up with her until later.

“Okay,” I made my decision. “Let’s take the town car, but for God’s sake, can we get there early so no one sees us?”

That was what led us to be outside the Shrine Auditorium an hour-and-a-half before showtime, nodding and saying hello to all of the beautiful people. (It was another unforgivable L.A. faux pas. In this town, you’re never early.) And they were there in force. Also many of those featured on “The Lifestyles of the Not So Rich And Famous.”

Anyhow, I digress. I’m standing outside with my good friend, who has just moved here from New York, and I must listen to what all the people who just moved to California from New York say. It’s all about the weather and how wonderful it is and about the stars they see and about how nice everyone is. Give Burt a couple of months and he’ll get over it. It’s another perfect day, just like all the rest. California does rock…and not just from the earthquakes. That’s why God makes the ground shake and gives us floods, mud slides, fires, killer bees and civil unrest. If it weren’t for those minor inconveniences, everyone would be moving here.

Being unfashionably early turned out to be a blessing in disguise. We got to see almost everybody who was anybody. By the time the show started, we had no reason to go inside, except to witness Dick Clark hyperventilating about time and space.

Anyhow, a few of the awards you didn’t see on the broadcast went to Epic’s Neda Tobin for “Most Outstanding Dress,” Tony Novia for “The Person Most Proud of His Wife,” (Maty made the cover of a ladies’ magazine. I told Tony we would be proud to have her on the cover of Network 40, but I’m sure he was afraid Erica would flip out in a jealous rage. I countered by offering Erica a cover, but Tony refused to discuss it.) When will ABC wise up and team Tony with his wife? He would be better than the slug who is with her and a lot more effective than in the job he’s got. One of the largest rumors is that Novia is only an inch away from a programming job here in L.A. and no, I didn’t start that one.

Once inside, the sun was gone, but the lights were brighter. Virgin’s Phil Quartararo was showing off his chest hair in a new “cutaway” tuxedo. Warner Bros. veteran Dino Barbis was busy bragging about his parking spot. And everyone’s favorite, Eddie Money, left his tickets in his car.

The actual broadcast went about as expected. Country music played a bigger part than ever. Besides Michael Bolton, who always says the right thing, only the Country artists thanked radio for their awards.

The classiest woman in the building was Elektra Entertainment’s Sylvia Rhone. Anita Baker won an award and thanked many. What the industry knows is that Anita could have shortened that speech and mentioned only Sylvia. Her commitment to Anita’s last record was the reason for the award. 550’s Polly Anthony could have tied Sylvia, but she had Keith Naftaly on her arm. Baumgartner’s partner also precluded his inclusion. It made me wonder, between Keith and me, how many Sony acts did we break out of San Francisco? Evidently many, because we were still front and center. It also made me wonder if the number of favors I had done for Burt were about even. Hmmm. He hadn’t offered me any Grammy tickets. Maybe I should remind him about “Jenny Jenny.” On second thought, that’s how I wound up at the AMAs.

The classiest male performance was put in by MCA’s Richard Palmese. He and his lovely wife graced the front rows with quiet dignity. Have any two people other than Al Teller and Richard done more for a  record company with less chest-beating and fanfare?

As the show drew to a close, I moved to the front to be with my “real” date. I had decided it would be best if I didn’t actually accompany Madonna to the AMAs as it would cause too much of a commotion. Making eye contact, she made it clear that I shouldn’t approach her yet. There would be the party afterwards when we could spend some time alone. I gave her my special smile. She pretended she didn’t know me.

Columbia’s Jerry Blair orchestrated a wonderful dinner that brought out the best and worst of Hollywood: Dana Keil turning down Kevin Costner’s advances, Charlie Minor telling Burt “the new Dionne Farris record is so good, even I couldn’t screw it up,” KPWR’s APD/MD Bruce St. James loaning Wild 107’s Michael Martin his cellular phone and Bolton and Louis Levin hounding me for a deck of cards. Sharon Stone was there and was only the sixth most beautiful woman in the room. Number one on my list was Deborah Castillo.

One of the most beautiful was a pretty, young thing who was being accosted by two older “producers.” While in the bathroom, I overheard the two “dirty old men” discussing their plans for the young lady, who had just arrived from Wichita.

Upon returning to the bar, I eased next to the damsel in distress and shared with her what I heard. Instead of being shocked, she smiled and ran my hand under her dress where I felt a decidedly unladylike bulge. Leaning forward, she whispered, “Honey, they aren’t producers and I’m no Dorothy from Kansas. I guess they’ll find that out when they travel the Yellow Brick Road I just took you up, but by then, I’ll have had dinner and drinks.”

I sat back contentedly. In Hollywood, there’s always a good ending. Besides, with the revelation, Sharon Stone moved back into the top five.

I went off to find Madonna.

Quack! Quack!

1/13/1995

Charts…charts everywhere a chart, paginating poorly and breaking many hearts. As long as my record moves up, I’ll read the charts.

Everybody sing!

Of course, this Editorial had to be about charts. More specifically, R&R’s charts. Excuse me. R&R’s new and improved charts. In other words, they’ve changed. Again.

It is hard for us not to say, “We told you so.” Too hard, in fact. “We told you so.” Two years ago. It was over two years ago, in fact, when Network 40 began publishing the industry’s first chart based solely on Plays Per Week. R&R laughed.

It wasn’t too long afterwards that the radio and record industries began using the Network 40 PPW chart and BDS as the standard by which record activity was judged.

In several Editorials, Network 40 “suggested strongly” that R&R drop its archaic ways of tabulating the chart and join the industry in publishing charts based solely on Plays Per Week. We even offered R&R the use of PPW without a fee so our entire industry could be standard.

R&R refused. For a while. But when the industry began to move away from R&R’s charts, surprise…R&R began the first of many changes.

R&R graciously took the term “Plays Per Week” without any acknowledgement to Network 40 or a simple, “Thank you.” (We weren’t surprised.) And R&R designed some new charts.

Unfortunately, R&R didn’t design them correctly. So screwed up were the original charts that R&R was forced to change them again and again.

Finally, last week, R&R threw in the towel. They dropped their unreliable weighting system and the even more ridiculous “add factor” and began publishing a chart made up of unweighted Plays Per Week without any add factors or other bogus paraphernalia.

In other words, R&R finally began publishing a chart just like the one Network 40 has been publishing for over two years.

We only have one question to ask. “What took you so long?” After countless Network 40 Editorials, thousands of complaints, several sacrificial lambs and a couple of ownership changes, R&R had another change to get it right. But God bless their pointy little heads, even in a feeble attempt to do too little, too late, R&R still managed to screw up. Twice.

First, R&R admitted that all their charts were inaccurate because of the methodology, weighting, add factors and other bullshit. R&R changed them all. Except the Country chart.

Excuse me? If all the charts are inaccurate because of the methodology, should all the charts be changed? Why is Country unchanged and inaccurate? If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, isn’t it a duck? But R&R didn’t stop there. Instead of including all Top 40 reporters in the “new” chart, those still left in power (if only for a short time) decided to arbitrarily take some stations out of the chart because of their musical stance. In a blatant rip-off of the Monitor, R&R is printing a Pop/CHR chart and a Rhythmic/CHR chart.

Network 40 has no problem with R&R printing two charts. We print several. It’s often important to plot a particular record’s progress by format in different PPW charts. However, our main PPW chart includes all of our reporters.

Why? Simple. Since our inception, Network 40 has been consistent in our belief that a publication should not dictate to the industry it reflects. It is not our job to define a radio station’s format. Nor is it our right. Those who choose to do so are wrong. R&R is wrong.

In their haste to be different, R&R, with another change to get it right, missed again. R&R arbitrarily decided certain stations are Rhythmic (and should be in a different chart) and other are Pop and should remain in the “main” chart.

Who decides what stations go where? It certainly isn’t the stations that make those decisions. We could blame Tony Novia and Kevin McCable, but they’ll both be back in radio soon, so we’ll skip right to the top. It’s a cinch that Erica Farber won’t be returning to radio. In order to successfully return to radio, you have to have been successful in radio. Since Bob Wilson has taken the poison pill, Erica is in charge. Doesn’t everyone feel more secure knowing she’s calling the shots? Her success in radio was marginal. Her knowledge and passion for records is questionable. Maybe R&R should change its name to RA…Radio Advertising. That’s something Erica was good at.

How can R&R arbitrarily leave certain stations as Pop/CHR and throw others out because of the way they lean musically? If stations like Power 106, KMEL and WPGC don’t belong, shouldn’t stations like Z100, WLUM and WEDJ be thrown into another split> Erica? Erica?

Instead of a magazine trying to dictate policy to radio stations, should we instead focus on those programmers who are doing good no matter how their stations lean? Can’t we look at stations like WPLJ, Hot 97 and Z100 in New York, Kiss 108 Boston and Power 106 in Los Angeles and WNNX in Atlanta as a whole; and programmers like Scott Shannon, Steve Smith, Steve Kingston, Steve Rivers, Jay Stevens, Kevin Weatherly, Stevev Perun, Rick Cummings and Brian Phillips as individuals and learn something from all of them?

The programmers and stations mentioned are highly successful with their individual brands of Top 40. Each leans a little (or a lot) toward one type of music. Then there’s Dan Kieley in Omaha successfully playing almost everything. If R&R is to be accurate, a main Top 40 chart should include them all.

The audience doesn’t define their favorite station; they just listen to it. Good music is good music…good radio is good radio.  Shouldn’t radio stations be judged by their success in playing contemporary music as a whole, rather than micro-focused to fit the format of a magazine?

When will R&R learn? Now that Erica Farber is in control, the magazine should drop all charts and focus on delivering news and information to general managers. If the industry was defining R&R, that’s where we would put the publication.

Until then, if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it is a duck. If it rhymes with duck…it’s probably R&R’s charts!

Happy New Year 1995

1/6/1995

Happy New Year! The countdown has begun. Only five years until the biggest party in the history of the world. And for once, that’s no hype.

No matter what Prince says, we can’t party like it’s 1999 until it gets here. And we’re down to the short strokes. Not that any of us are absolutely assured of making it. But with each passing day, our chances do get a little bit better.

The first week of the New Year…it is the best of times…it is the worst of times. It is the first week of the rest of our lives…a time full of hope and joy…a time of great expectations…a time filled with the determination to change your life for the better…a time to alter your ways and become the person you always knew you could be…a bright and happy time that will make the beginning of the new you…no more wasted days and nights, but positive productive hours culminating in dramatic results of gargantuan proportions…this is the year you’re gonna be a contender…this is the time.

The first week of this year is also only one broken promise away from being alike all the others. So, what are you going to do?

Many negative thinkers believe that human beings cannot change their ways…that habits entrenched from years of repetition will remain. This is so much bullshit. Of course, we can change. It happens all the time. People stop smoking. People stop drinking. People stop using drugs.

People can change. People do.

Change is mostly difficult. People, for the most part, don’t want to change. How many people work unhappily in the same job for years without seeking change, then, when fired, exclaim that it was the best thing that happened to them? It only points out the important process of altering one’s lifestyle for the best. For change to occur, first one must want to change.

But wanting it isn’t good enough. There isn’t one person in the world who doesn’t want things to be different. But to become a force in making a difference, you have to add two additional elements: risk and hard work.

I promise that you cannot effect change, even small changes in your own life, without an element of risk and some hard work. Take New Year’s Resolutions, for example. Most everyone makes them…most everyone breaks them. It is a statistical fact that over 97% of all New Year’s Resolutions are broken…usually within the first month of the new year. So why do we make them? Because we want to change. But wanting change just isn’t enough.

After you determine that you want to change something, you have to take a risk. A risk, you ask? What’s the risk? The risk is that you won’t make it…that you’ll fail. Not much risk. Not like your life…or your savings…but fear of failure is risk enough to make many people not even attempt a lifestyle change.

Psychiatrists will tell you that the majority of people are more motivated by the fear of failure than the desire for success. It’s strange…and it’s sad. Failure isn’t something we should be ashamed of. Failure, except in maybe skydiving and bomb handling, isn’t fatal. And failure certainly isn’t forever.

History is full of inventors who failed many times before their ultimate conquest. The early failures meant only that they were attempting to push the envelopes that were confining their thoughts and patterns.

You also must be dedicated to the proposition of success. You must be willing to work…and work hard to succeed. Too often those who don’t succeed point to those who do and say it’s because of luck. More often than not, luck is getting up earlier, working longer and harder and sleeping less. It don’t come easy. “If you wanta sing the blues, you gotta pay your dues.”

Our industry if full of those who want change. We can (and do) fill convention halls with people who put down the status quo, call for new and dramatic changes, then return to their jobs and continue to follow the other sheep. Not only does the majority seldom attempt to effect change, but they are quick to criticize others who introduce innovative ideas. In no other industry is there more bluster and less follow-through. In both radio and records, we have few walls t stifle our creativity, yet we manage daily to stifle ourselves. With some of the brightest minds working in our industry, it is mind-boggling that we manage to cling tightest to the expected ways of doing business rather than exploring the possibilities of new and startling ideas.

The radio and record industries are changing dramatically. And the ways these industries interact are also changing. Programmers know this. Promotion people know this. The sooner the changes are recognized by those higher up who set policy, the sooner the industries will work smoother together for common goals. Too many of those policy-makers are installing marketing adjustments for the wrong reasons. PDs and promotion teams…those soldiers on the front lines…must be involved in the discussions and implementation if these are to be positive and not simply cosmetic changes.

One of 1995’s resolutions for Network 40 is to create a conference that will enable our indstries to explore innovative ways of accomplishing our goals and interests. There are too many conventions now that discuss “How To Produce A Morning Show” or “How To Promote Specific Records To Non-Specific Formats.” What our industry needs is a forum that will allow unfettered ideas to be floated on the winds of openness and excitement without the fear of ridicule. In 1995, Network 40 resolves to provide that forum.

Network 40 is all about positive changes. Our resolutions for the New Year are to continue to explore all possibilities and to stimulate your thoughts and actions toward the same aim. In our exciting industry, we are in control of our own destiny. We have the ability to find the new act…to invent the new format…that will alter the lives of listeners and change the world. It is for this higher purpose that Network 40 exists.

It is in this spirit, along with the quest for knowledge, that we also resolve to print no more naked pictures on Page 6.

Of course, some of these resolutions will be broken sooner than others.

I Love L.A.

1/20/1995

When Guns ’N Roses came up with the lyrics, they really didn’t have a clue. “Welcome to the jungle, baby.”

Is it just me or has this past year been a particularly evil bitch? January 17th brought everything full circle. I staggered into the front yard, more than a little groggy from another night of under-indulgence (I always feel worse when I get too much sleep) to the usual screams of my neighbors. After two years, they still aren’t used to the sight of a naked man stalking the morning paper.

Back in the house, I stumbled over the trapeze that had been pulled from the ceiling hooks the night before and cracked by head on the Harley still parked in the living room from last weekend. Too weak to make it to the kitchen for the shot of adrenaline, I rolled over on my back and checked out the headlines.

“7.5 Earthquake Wreaks Havoc!”

I sat up quickly…too quickly. The handlebar of the Harley almost ripped my ear off.

“Damn the beast,” I said to no one there, and no one heard me, not even the chair. I shoved the Harley over on its side and didn’t care when the oil and gasoline began pouring onto the rug. With this much devastation outside, who would care about the carpet?

It must have been a great party…the one I couldn’t remember from the night before…to sleep through a 7.5!

When my eyes finally focused on the story and I saw the earthquake happened in Japan, I threw the paper on top of the oil spill and hoped for the best.

January 17th…a day that will live in earthquake infamy for the rest of this decade at least. Is this something that should be studied? Are these shakers clustering around a specific date? Is this a chapter from “Nostradamus” that I missed? Does anyone know? Does anyone care?

You care if you’re a California resident. That’s mainly because Hollywood is in California. The motion picture business must be somehow responsible for all of the weird things that happen here. Sometimes we believe that Cecil B. DeMille has followed the yellow brick road to heaven or hell and is directing all of the insanity that infiltrates our everyday life. It is the only rational explanation.

Think about the natural disasters that come with the territory. Take the earthquakes…please. We go through som many quakes that they become commonplace…sometimes boring. Where else in the world would buildings shake and floors roll and people nonchalantly look around and say, “Three-five.” Only in Hollywood are quakes graded and scored immediately.

Nothing is ever normal here. We can’t have a minor inconvenience. We have to have disasters. In fact, natural disasters are the norm here. It never rains in Southern California…it pours. We can’t have a few showers…a flash flood or two. Nope. We get the whole nine yards. California was in a drought two years ago. You remember how it ended? Rained for 40 days and nights…just like the picture.

Last month brought on ore rain. Television news doesn’t talk about the weather. Each station has expensive graphics to identify “Storm Watch 95” or another flashy name for what is happening. And the clouds must be tuned in. The Russian River in northern California rose 48 feet above flood level. 48 feet! Here in southern California, we had the Malibu mudslides. Nope, it’s not a new amusement park. It’s a flood of mud that crashes into million-dollar houses and turns them into “minor” fixer-uppers.

And just about the time we dig ourselves out of the mud, the fires will come. Last year, half the state burned. This year, with all the rain, maybe we can keep the burning to a minimum.

People who don’t live here joke about the natural disasters that fall upon California. They laugh and say, “Hey, you’ve had fires, floods and earthquakes. What’s next? Swarms of locusts?” Evidently these people haven’t heard about the killer bees. They’re moving up from Mexico.

And, of course, we’ve got O.J. People get killed in every other city in the world and though it’s sad and unfortunate, it doesn’t turn into a combination circus/soap opera. An all-important game in the finals of professional basketball was interrupted while a white Bronco led the California Highway Patrol on a low-speed chase through Los Angeles. Where else but in L.A. would people leave their cars to cheer for “The Juice” as he ran from his accusers?

Simpson’s house and the murder scene have turned into tourist attractions with police directing the crowds and traffic. Vendors sell souvenirs. It’s disgusting. I had to wait nearly 25 minutes for a T-shirt with his likeness on the front. And everyone has a theory. The only difference is that in California, everyone with a theory is interviewed on TV. Those with really good theories get their own shows.

There is some good news among the bad. Violent crime is down, probably because most of us are holed up inside watching the O.J. trial develop on television. What about F. Lee Bailey and Robert Shapiro fighting because somebody leaked information to the press. The fight about the story is now the front page story. You couldn’t get this script approved for an episode of L.A. Law.

California is a state of mind. It is cracked, crazy and continuous. And if you’re in the record or radio business, it’s even worse. Those of us in the record and radio business are like second-rate citizens. In Hollywood, movies rule. And movie stars rule the movies. Let me put it to you in a way you can understand. If there was one table left at The Ivy and a movie star and a recording artist arrived at the same time, it’s no contest. The singer walks. If it’s the singer versus a television actor…the singer still walks. If it’s the singer and the second lead in a new television sitcom, the Nielsen ratings will be checked (every maitre d’ in Hollywood has a copy handy) and a decision is reached. If you’re in radio…forget about it.

So, people say, if California in general and Los Angeles in particular are so bad, why don’t you get out?

What? And leave show bidness?

I love L.A.

Dear Santa (Christmas 1994)

12/16/1994

Dear Santa:

It’s been a year since I’ve written. I’m sorry, Santa. I know I should write more often, but face it, in our business, it’s what can you do for me now? Since you only grant wishes once a year, why should I waste the stamp?

You know I don’t feel that way, Santa. I’m only echoing the intensity of our industry. And the industry has been especially intense this year, Santa. Actually, tense would be a better term.

With all of the fallout in the industry, our good people are looking forward to Christmas more this year than any year in the past. So, if you don’t mind, Santa, I would like to ask for some Christmas presents. Not for me, but for my friends in the industry. Most of them won’t ask. The record guys are afraid you’ll demand a promotion in return. And the radio guys have already given their wish list to their local reps. So just let me drop a couple of hints.

Don’t give Burt Baumgartner anything. He’s getting everything he wants as he moves to California. However, if you could, please do me one favor, Santa. Burt is shipping one of his cars out early and has asked met o put it in my garage for “safe keeping.” Let him send the Viper…with the keys. I promise I won’t wreck it and I’ll never let Burt know I’m cruising the strip in it until his arrival.

Give Jerry Blair another phone so he can talk to five people at the same time. For Jerry Lembo, some No-Doz so he can stay up past ten. For Charlie Walk, a little more exposure. Let Jim Burruss have a new computer…preferably a Mac. Don’t worry about Justin Fontaine. Having Burt as his boss is quite enough. Just let him continue to lose to me in golf, although you don’t have to grant that wish, Santa. I’ll take care of that.

For Tenenbaum, a decision on the length of his hair…or really, any decision. Let him finally make one. And for Gorlick, any cheap shot. He’s so easy to pick on. Actually, Santa, give Gorlick a discount at the Palm, though he should be able to accomplish that on his own. What about Paula? Something good for having to work with those two.

For Craig Lambert, wedding bliss. For Val DeLong, an unhappy marriage so she’ll come running to me. And for Greg Thompson, patience and new answers for the same questions.

For John Fagot, a better year for the Bulldogs (I know I asked for that last year, Santa, but keep trying, will you?) For Costello, a new hairstyle. His wife can work wonders…she just needs to work harder on him. Let the Rebels tie them Dogs for Blalock so he and John can be satisfied. And Pat’s picture for Reiner.

A skyhook for Sky Daniels so he can slam those records home. More trips to the West Coast for Riccitelli. More radio stations for Vicki Leben to call…she’s down to about 400 a week. And a healthy baby for Murdock.

A healthy, happy, stress-less year for Stu Cohen. A big raise for Barney. Please, please, Santa, let Rich Fitzgerald find another restaurant. I know he gets mileage-plus at Iroha, but its gone way too far. Give Ratner absolutely, positively anything and everything he wants.

Polly Anthony got everything she wanted in 1994, but put some icing on her cake next year. Let Barb Seltzer have even more opportunities to hell me I’m the man. I’ll even convert. Make Dale Connone stay away from my daughter. (I know many others have asked you for this same wish, Santa. Grant them, please.) A huge jug of Cajun martinis for Hilary Shaev. For Rick Bisceglia, more nights like the one in San Francisco last month. And let Bruce Schoen get out of the office more.

It was a rough year for Andrea Ganis. She was run over by a cab, dirtied in the streets and slashed by an unfortunate Network 40 package. Let 1995 be accident-free. And have her keep up the matchmaking. Maybe it will work. Give Danny Buch a real radio station to program. Steve Leavitt needs one less computer. And tell Cubby he doesn’t need to attend every event on the West Coast. More hours in the day would be nice for Peter Napoliello. A bigger expense account for Ken Lane. And a cover for Michael Steele. You don’t need to Give Brenda Romano anything. 1995 is going to be her year. For Lopes? Flannel shirts and jeans.

A huge promotion for Butch Waugh. And another “statement” cover for Skip Bishop. More trips to the desert for Michael Plen. He needs them. And more time for golf for Bill Pfordresher. I’m beating him way to badly now.

Jack Satter wants the inside line to The Chrome Lizard. Mark Kargol has to find a new friend. The one he’s got is wearing him out. David Leach needs a membership to a country club. Andy doesn’t. And Kerry has to come out here more often. A Coolio hairstyle for Becce. A giant hit for Ray Carlton.

Many more dinners with Nancy Levin. (Oops, that’s my wish. Okay, I’ll buy.) And more hit records for Ann Marie to bring home.

Switches and ashes for Rick Stone…he’s been a bad boy. Give Lori Anderson the world and everything that’s in it…and one less trip to Disneyland with the kids. How about giving Minor’s throw-aways to Spendlove so he can get his wish and finally be just like Charlie?

Give Joel Denver the best and R&R the worst.

Network 40’s staff needs a lot, Santa. Let Dwayne finally close Hard Kill…though they’re all hard for him. And let him hang with all the “players.” A Knicks’ championship for Pat since he’s in New York to enjoy it. A new rubber chicken for Jeff. Please, Santa, please get some hip clothes for Kilgo…or sunglasses for the rest of us. A non-addictive sedative for Kristen to be administered each Monday. More Crossover stations for Meade. A “special” friend for Karen. For Sara, a real man. We asked for this last year, Santa, and she still doesn’t have one. Kathryn wants more male cheesecake photos. The Lizard wants the opposite. Give Leah a part-time job at KIIS. A beautiful wedding for Josie…ditto Kathryn. A perfect Country state of mind for Barry and Jamie. Harman needs more artistic freedom. Debby wants at least one dead-line to be hit. Let Helen’s “special” relationship with Gorlick to continue. James needs a louder voice…but don’t give it to him. To Victor, a week with no meltdowns. Alden wants an audience with the Joint Chiefs of Staff. A day off for Stan.

Peace on earth and good will toward men and women. And to all a good night.

Country State Of Mind

12/9/1994

“I’m just laid up here in a Country state of mind.”

So, when did Country music get to be so popular? It’s a question I’ve been asked more than a couple of times in the past few years. I usually follow that question with a question of my own: Where the hell have you been?

Of course, because I grew up in Mississippi on a steady diet of Hank Williams (that’s Hank Sr. I could only listen to Bocefus when my daddy wasn’t in the house.), country music has always been my music of choice. The again, if you were growing up in Mississippi in the 1960s, you didn’t have a lot of choices. The Deep South has always raised an eyebrow (and an occasional axe handle) at anything that didn’t have a fiddle in the mix. So it wasn’t until I left and got educated that I became aware that there was indeed some other music out there.

As a young’un, I did get a peek or two at the Beatles and the Rolling Stones when they were on the Ed Sullivan Show. If I was real lucky and my daddy went to the bathroom after Topo Gigio or that Russian Circus old Ed was so fond of, I could almost witness the entire appearance before he told me to stop listening to that “crap.” To my everlasting credit, I finally did get my old man to admit that “Act Naturally” wasn’t a bad song, but only because I told him it was written by John D. Loudermilk who, in his opinion, was the “greatest damn writer of all time…next to Hank.” I never could get him to embrace the Stones, even towards the end when he was heavily medicated.

A lot of those who have jumped on the bandwagon recently say Country music finally grew up. With all due respect, maybe it’s the audiences who have grown up.

There are others who say that Country music is well on the way to becoming the Mainstream music of tomorrow. Don’t look now, but with over 5,000 radio stations playing Country music across the country, it’s getting pretty close to Mainstream right now.

Why?

A case could be made for the fact that many of us can’t dance to most of the other music. I just don’t do the “Drop” or the “Slide,” make signs with my hands or jump in a mosh pit. I ain’t no Fred Astaire, but I can two-step. Then again, who can’t? And Country bars are easier to hang in. Oh, a good fight will break out occasionally, but that’s usually what it is…a fight. Very seldom are knives or guns pulled. I mean, you might get your ass kicked, but you probably won’t get killed. I’m no genius. It’s obvious I don’t have the definitive answers. But a couple do stand out.

The music has gotten better. Don’t get me wrong. Country writers were penning standards long before Rock & Roll was named, and Chet Atkins was picking and doubling harmonies before 24-tracks were used. But with the technological boom came a bunch of talented producers who made it possible for Country production to compete with the best of them. In the good ole days, the good ole boys would get a few pickers, rent a studio and cut an album in 12 hours…and that included mixing. The only that that mattered was the song and the beat.

The song is still king in Country, but production and arranging have made the music more acceptable to the fringe consumers. It didn’t hurt when Mainstream began fragmenting into a thousand different definitions. There was a time when you could hear Elton John, Freddie Fender, Al Green and Jimi Hendrix back-to-back on a good Top 40 station. No more. Formats have become too restricted.

And that brings me to the second point: Country radio has gotten better. No format has improved in overall sound, marketing and promotion more than Country. Some of the best radio stations in the country are Country…if you get my drift.

Country programmers are spending more and more time making sure the production of the station is perfect. It’s still the sound that counts to the listeners and Country radio , in many cases, sound best.

Country music, by definition, is much broader than much of the music today. Radio stations and record companies are sometimes too quick to define a song. Not so the audience. They just know if they like it. Country radio allows more of the pieces of the pie onto the plate and it ultimately means more dessert for the listeners.

Country stations are like good Top 40s used to be. You can hear Vince Gill’s “When Love Finds You,” the Tractors’ “Baby Like To Rock It” and George Strait’s “The Big One” and you’ve got Mainstream, Rock & Roll and Country back-to-back. Throw in “Third Rock From The Sun” and you could make a case for psychedelic, but maybe that’s a stretch.

Country music does a great job of pushing the envelope. If someone did a focus group on Mars, most of the aliens would be hard-pressed to make a distinction between half of the songs on Country stations and those claiming to be Mainstream

Of course, there is a dark side to this otherwise bright cloud. The large gains made by Country stations are due in no small part to the success of many new artists. There is so much good music available that PDs are spending time and money determining which records are the best. And they should. However, the danger of over-researching, narrow-casting call-outs and restrictive playlists are real. One only needs to look at what happened to Mainstream Top 40 in the late 1980s to find the end result.

Programmers who have the tendency to put too much emphasis on in-house research can quickly find themselves in the outhouse. The true test of any record is the response of the listeners when they hear it on the radio. Research shows that listeners in all formats…but especially Country…do not tune out new music…even if they don’t like it. They want to hear the latest releases and decide for themselves. It’s only when you continue to play inferior songs does the audience take a hike. So our job as programmers is to expose the right product, test the response and act accordingly.

 

If we’re right…we prosper. If we’re wrong…nobody dies. In the words of Hank Jr., “If the sun don’t come up tomorrow, people I have had a good time. I’m just laid up here in a Country state of mind.”

Hot Air

12/9/1994

“Some guys have all the luck. Some guys get all the breaks.”

Ah, to be a radio programmer. Just think about it for a minute. A radio programmer has the best tickets to the best concerts. You want to make points with the bimbo and meet the band? No problem. Backstage passes?

Anything you want, babe.

What about dinner? Best restaurant in town? You want to bring the bimbo? And three of her friends? No problem Your parents might be there, too? Sure. Bring them along.

You need a promotion because you’re too lame to think one up for yourself? Or your station is too broke to pay for it? You want tickets to Hawaii for a couple of your winners? And you want to go along as their chaperone? And bring the bimbo? Of course. It’s done.

That prize fight in Las Vegas next weekend? You say the new bimbo is a fight fan? A boxer herself? Oh, a mud wrestler. Close enough. You want to get a suite, sit up front and pretend you’re important and rich?

You’re there, babe.

You’ve got to admit, the life of a radio programmer ain’t all bad. You get all the good things in life without having to pay for them, if you don’t count having to play a “strange” record on occasion. You can act like an ugly, insensitive know-it-all jerk. And people will pretend to like you.

Plus, you have the opportunity to win cash and fabulous prizes in the A.I.R. competition for doing what you’re paid to do already…listen to new music and figure out how well the songs will do. What a wonderful, wonderful life.

“Some guys do nothing but complain.”

And then there is the life of the record promotion person. A PD wants dinner? Trips? Promotions? The promo person must provide willingly and pretend to be happy about it.

The promo person must also spend “quality” time with the bimbo, although, in many cases, the bimbo is actually better company that the PD. And the promo person would rather talk with her. But that’s another Editorial.

So the promo person must slop through the sludge with the slugs. And ultimately pay for the A.I.R. competition that sends PDs cash and fabulous prizes.

And there’s nothing extra for the record promotion person, is there? No contest to enter. No games to play. No way to get cash and fabulous prizes. Every promotion person knows they would do better than every PD in any music competition. But there isn’t any.

Do-do-dee-do-da-do! (Think horns.)

To the rescue come your good friends at Network 40. Recognizing the terrible plight of those in the record business (and it’s easy for us to recognize those slights because as former PDs, we were the slighters not so long ago), Network 40 is proud to announce a contest with cash and fabulous prizes for record company promotion people only. We call it, “H.O.T.A.I.R.”

“Heavy On The Absolutely Incredible Bullshit!” (Okay, so we couldn’t come up with a suitable word that means the same thing and begins with an “R”…excuuuusssseeee me!)

After months of careful evaluation and exhausting research, we have come up with the ultimate contest…HOT AIR.

We call it HOT AIR because that’s exactly what it is…HOT AIR. (Actually, it’s really HOT AIB, but that doesn’t have the same ring.)

It costs nothing to enter. The only stipulation is that you have to be a promotion person, listen to the music and participate each week.

The rules are quite simple:

(1)  Each week, Network 40 will ask you to listen to five records and predict how well these records will do on Network 40’s PPW chart.

(2)  Points are awarded as follows:

10:  Predict the record won’t make the chart and it doesn’t. (Minus 10 if it does.)

25:  Predict the record makes it into the Top 40 and it does. (Minus 25 if it doesn’t.)

50:  Predict the record makes it into the Top 10 and it does. (Minus 50 if it doesn’t.”

100: Predict the record makes it to number one and it does. (Minus 100 if it doesn’t.)

Points are totaled sometime during the year and a winner is announced. You are also eligible for special “bonus” points as follows:

150:  Be the first person in your company to close out your region. (Minus 150 if you’re the last. Plus 300 if you’re the last and still hang on to your job!)

250:  Get one of your records added on a radio station without going through the independent. (This bonus is not applicable if you pay the indie anyhow.)

500:  Get any of your records added on a radio station without having to provide a promotion or a time buy. (This bonus is not applicable for any record already in the Top 10…unless, of course, it’s on WKRQ.)

750:  Get any of your records added on a radio station by talking only with the music director. (This bonus is not applicable at stations where the music director’s input is actually important…which means it’s pretty much applicable everywhere.)

1000: Get a record added at a station and have no one else call to take credit for it. (This bonus will be paid on the honor system…we’ll have to take your word for it and trust that you wouldn’t ever lie…so this will never be applicable.)

1500: Predict any record on Imago will make it into the Top 40 and it does. (If one of Imago’s records actually makes it into the Top 40, then to collect these points, you must pay Network 40 for the amount of advertising dollars we’ll lose for taking this shot!)

2000: Get one of your competitor’s records added instead of your own so you can get credit for the points. (This bonus will be tripled if you tell your boss that is the reason that you didn’t get an add that week.)

3000: Get the bimbo to talk the PD into adding one of your records. (This bonus is tripled if you bring this up in front of his wife!)

So, now you have the rules for Network 40’s exclusive HOT AIR contest. Remember, all decisions of the judges are final. The number of ads you purchase in Network 40 has no bearing on the outcome…as long as you don’t want to win!

Old School

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!

Thanksgiving Turkey

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.

Stale Stories

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.