What Happened to FM Radio?

Today’s local FM radio station is run by a single competent person, 3 part-timers and a million salespeople who are convincing the local pizza shop that purchasing a commercial on the ‘Ryan Seacrest Afternoon radio jungle gym Crazy Show” is the only way their business can survive.

Meanwhile, Pandora, Spotify and SiriusXM are eating FM radio’s lunch.

This is dumb people with terrible ideas. I’m your host Eric Gray.

There was a time when the radio airwaves were filled with big personalities, Wolfman Jack, Don Imus, larger than life voices that played non-stop bangers from legendary radio studios. Murray the K, Dick Clarke, all voices that curated their own playlists, exposing the world to new artists like the Beatles, and Elvis, Hotel California, all the good shit from the time prior to the dinosaurs that made the world what it is today.

Now we have local radio stations that sound like every other radio station in the country- because every city has the same playlist, with 25 minutes of commercials crammed between autotuned vocals over wack beats that sound like a cinderblock tumbling in a clothes dryer.

Two things caused this. The first was the payola scandal from the 1960’s.

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In 1960, Alan Freed, one of history’s most legendary ‘boss jocks’ was indicted for the unforgivable sin of accepting $2,500 from a record company to play their records.

This is *exactly* like paying Facebook for ads to make certain people listen your record, or like paying Tok-tok influencers to make certain people listen to your record or like paying a billboard company to make certain people listen to your record.

But because it was one guy, instead of a corporation, it was considered bribery. The government created a term for it- payola- which sounds like a truly horrible thing. In actuality, it’s just a rounding error in some record company’s marketing budget.

And while it’s weird to consider this a bribe, and even weirder to consider this a criminal offense, Alan Freed- disk jockey of considerable fame and talent - was stuck in the criminal justice system tighter than a hair in an oven baked biscuit. This dj, paid a small fine for accepting the $2500, found it difficult to remain employed after this made-up scandal, and drank himself to death five years later.

yet the money didn’t stop flowing, oh no. It just stopped flowing to the guys behind the microphone. Instead, a whole flurry of rules and regulations were passed to make certain that if there was any money to be had in the record promotion business, it would go to the bosses of the radio station, instead.

Through a series of legal loopholes, ‘indie’ promoters became an important part of the radio business. Since it was now *bribery* to pay a DJ to play a record, music companies instead paid a Third-Party independent promotor- an indie- not affiliated with any radio station whatsoever, and then *those* independent promotors paid the radio station. If it was bribery before- and it wasn’t- it was still certainly bribery afterwards… but legal now, because instead of two participants, now there were three. And this somehow made it legal.

Imagine if you had been counseled that sex was a sin, but a three-way was completely fine.

And indie promotors rarely paid cold hard cash. Instead, they sent their latest boy band to do a special concert for the radio station, or they sent a box of branded t-shirts for station giveaways. With DJs like Alan Freed, that money funneled its way through the economy by going into the pocket of a single working-class citizen- a local guy- in tune with the local musical tastes and a resident of the local community of which he was employed.

Through indie promotion, the t-shirts or boyband appearances simply replaced the radio stations promotional budget, allowing that budget item to be zeroed out and the savings pocketed by the C-level executives.

Because as the saying goes, one is the loneliest number, it takes two to tango, and three to circumvent bullshit legislation that fucks over the entire local radio and music industry.

Alan Freed drank himself to death because of $2,500. Meanwhile, radio station executives- people you’ve never heard of- began sitting on the rim of their own swimming pool filled with gold doubloons- using the same tactic that Alan Freed was hammered for, because it was filtered through an intermediary which made it legal

Again, proving that if there is one thing that the US government and big business can agree on is that it’s a fucking disaster if a 40-hour a week working stiff gets a taste of the good life.

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In the early 1990’s, radio was thriving.

The best music by the best musicians were being played on the radio- perhaps for the last time, ever.

The East/West hip hop beef raised the art form to new levels; meanwhile, rock became grunge, while Garth Brooks was killing’ it in Country.

THERE WAS A LOT OF GOOD STUFF. Michael Jackson, Nirvana, Tupac, Soundgarden, the Stones and Aerosmith, Prince, Snoop and Dre and Dixie Chicks OH MY!

Local radio stations, programmed by local people, had tailored each station to their own communities. But, back then, local artists could still make it on the air. Program directors took chances on fresh faces, new sounds, gave ground-breaking bands a chance to fail or succeed entirely, letting the local audience decide.

Every station sounded different. Because it was.

Then, America’s horniest President, Bill Clinton, skipped his afternoon blowjob to sign the Telecommunications Act of 1996, the Second thing that caused FM radio to spiral into oblivion.

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Prior to the Telecommunications Act of 1996, companies were limited to how many stations they could own in a market, and how many stations they could own, nationwide.

Clear Channel, in 1996, owned 40 stations nationally. That was the limit.

The 1996 Telcom Act deregulated the market and relaxed the ownership caps, so that Clear Channel, only 6 years later, owned 1,240 stations nationally.

And this buying spree costed Clear Channel a lot of money. So, they looked toward cutting costs.

Suddenly, that local guy in Portland who programmed the local radio station to Portland’s unique musical taste of banjos and pan flutes, was fired, and replaced by one creepy weirdo in Texas who chose all of the music for Clear Channel stations nationwide.

And it’s not just Clear Channel. It was Citadel. And Sinclair and Radio One and Intercom and Cumulus. Five or six companies suddenly controlled every single radio station in the United States.

And suddenly, every radio station sounded the same.

In 1997, this one creepy weirdo decided that ska and horns were a thing, so suddenly the radio had rock music with horns in it. In 1999, this one creepy weirdo believed that rock and rap fusion was a thing, so suddenly Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit were everywhere.

In 2003, the Dixie Chicks said something mean about George W. Bush, and this creepy weirdo in Texas removed all of the Dixie Chicks songs.

About that same time, Janet Jackson popped out her titty in the Super Bowl, and Janet Jackson’s songs were removed too.

And if it is an exaggeration to blame it all on a single Texas creepy weirdo numbnut, I’m not exaggerating by much. The Clear Channel rock stations are programmed nationally by a single person. The Entercom country stations are programmed nationally by a single person. The Cumulus pop stations are programmed nationally by a single person. This cost thousands of jobs, as local decision makers- DJ’s like Alan Freed- who were deeply ingrained in their local community’s musical scene were replaced by a dude 2,000 miles away.

Indie promotors, who could now pay radio stations directly to play records, now only had to pay one single guy to be on nearly every radio station in the country.

So, yeah, Alan freed was blackballed in the industry and drank himself to death over $2500, but the creepy weirdos in business suits making musical decisions for FM radio stations coast to coast? Today?

They’re making bank. And they’re not missing a single hour of sleep over it.

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Once the radio industry discovered centralized programming, they discovered centralized DJ-ing. This is when your local radio DJ is fired and replaced by a person with a good voice 2,000 miles away.

And yes, this includes syndication. Ryan Seacrest’s show is on 130 radio stations, worldwide n the same day. This replaces about 400 local personalities that have lost their job.

Delilah had about 170 stations, The Breakfast club ha nearly 100, Steve Harvey has over 100… That’s well over 1,000 local DJ jobs like Wolfman Jack and Dick Clark and Rick Dees that were replaced- r more likely, never found their way into broadcasting because there was no entry point.

So, if your music all sounds the same, and the personalities are all the same, who works at your local radio station?

Three dozen ad salespeople. A top-heavy shitton of managers and VP’s and executives with titles, and one Program Director- who works 16 hours a day making $40,000 a year and has no say in the hiring of the DJ’s, no say in the choosing of the music, no control over any promotions, really, except for the occasional ability to fart out a free Domino’s pizza once every weekend to caller number 10.

The larger-than-life personalities? Gone. They are at SiriusXM, or in podcasting. Or on YouTube. Or Pandora or Spotify. The latest music, really great shit from great bands? Same thing, boss, they are elsewhere. This flattening of diversity- making every station sound the same- makes everything sound safe. Stale.

It’s hours of artists that never seem to get better andtheir songs never quite get any better and everything just seems to always be going wrong, bands and singers and musicians who make our ears ring from time to time but only become more irritating, until you can’t hear anything else besides the cacophony surrounding them, and you finally say-

Where the fuck on this fucking radio dial can I just listen to a goddman Black Keys song?

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With the Payola Scandal and the Tel Comm Act of 1996, the corporatocracy of capitalist sausage making was laid bare. These legal loopholes formed like Voltron to jerk money from the hands of local artists, local personalities, who super-served their local communities.

This process has made breaking your song on a radio station about as difficult as breaking into the oval office in an Osama Bin Laden costume. The connections necessary to engage with the music industry at this level have been blocked by gatekeepers responsible for running the few remaining media companies with any sway- because there are ten gatekeepers that oversee damn near every American radio station.

And payola, it still happens.

That Hawaii vacation that your local radio station gives away to its listeners? It’s paid for by a record company in exchange for laying a song.

That thousand-dollar daily cash giveaway? That’s a national contest. You’re not competing to be the 20th caller in your city, you’re competing to be the 20th caller NATIONWIDE, again because of centralized programming, paid for by record companies in exchange for playing a song.

And that money replaces the radio station’s promotional budget, sure, but there’s also cold hard cash being delivered to the folks who control the national playlist. It’s just more legal now- filtered through an indie promotor as an intermediary between the record company and the radio station.

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The golden age of radio is gone. In it’s place are streaming apps, and wi-fi connected cars that allow each consumer to find the song they want, when they want it, and also the air personality they want, when they want it.

It allows you to listen to this podcast, sure, but also Motley Crue and Common and Katy Perry, at any time with the flick of a few buttons.

But it wouldn’t be necessary if local radio stations hadn’t become greedy, cheap and corrupt, nationwide *all* at the same time.