What is radio?

I remember taking a call on-air one Mothering Sunday from a women who said I'd made her cry.

There she was, at the bottom of the garden  pruning her flowers, telling me she'd cried when she'd heard a single dad call in earlier. He'd related the story that his daughters had sent him a Mothers Day card to say he'd, effectively, been the best mother they could have wished for.  The women explained that she'd lost her husband a fortnight before, and not allowed herself to mourn; yet the unrelated tale on-air from a chap she'd never met left her shedding the tears she so needed to cry.   As is so often the case with grief, it is displaced and hits you when you least expect. 

How incredible it is that it was the mass broadcast medium of radio which brought out the Kleenex that sunny Sunday morning.  For her, this was not about radio, this was about a friend in her life. Talking to her. Connecting. Being there.

I am not the only person in radio who's received calls from listeners on the darkest days of their lives .  When it seems there is no-one else they feel they can open up to; they choose radio.  Sometimes a presenter they relate to, but other times just a random text to 'the station'.  And it's  just as often a music station as not.  

A few years ago, I called a listener back off-air who was caught up in a terrible situation and threatening a dramatic exit.  I listened; and thankfully was able to help those better qualified than me track her down to assist.  About a year later, she called again, sounding bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, to say thanks.  Radio had helped her to get her life together.

Maybe the best definition of radio is as a friend.  Yes, it may sound like a hackneyed word from a 1980s jingle package, but it's as true now as it was then.  Chris Moyles' 21st Century audience would readily have viewed him as their 'mate'.  It enjoys that peculiar position  of feeling utterly close and personal; whilst dirty great big aerials pump out its charm efficiently to millions at low cost.

Radio is not always about helping you through tough times.  But is that not like a friend too?

Good friends are sometimes serious, sometimes not.  The best ones are life and soul of your party, yet also there to fetch you from the airport at 5 am in your hour of need.  Most research suggests that the key driver for much radio listening is that it 'lifts my mood', but there is also that reassurance that if you need to know anything, the trusted radio will tell you.  Until that time, you can relax knowing the world is well.  Just like friends,  sometimes the relationship is intense; other times they are just there.  Rather like the contrast between active late night or breakfast radio; and more passive daytime.  

Aren't the greatest friendships in life the ones where, even after months apart, the conversation flows as if you last saw them the day before?  You pick up as you left off.  That is a beauty of radio: it's always there; and the formatics ensure you know the station's personality will be the same next time you bump into it.  

In any definition of radio, real-time might be one important factor.  Most radio is consumed as it is broadcast.  Even wholly voice-tracked stations enjoy a sense of time and place.

This emotional, accessible medium also connects.  So much great breakfast radio today is about story-telling.  A person on the radio will share the ups and downs of their own life and their listener will relate.  Few radio presenters portray themselves as perfect.  Ask Paula White.   

A friend introduces you to things too: a new trend, film, fashion or song. That's another of radio's great qualities. In a world of ever-growing choice, we need someone to guide us through. To help us marshal our music listening and harvest our news.  It's great arriving in a new city, but much better if there's someone to show you round.  Even the cleanest of formats have a friendly voice and someone who seems to know the sorts of songs you like. 

This is a friend which lives and breathes. It has a spirit. A character. And a name.

It's interesting that when looks at the biggest media stories on the last decade, for good or for ill, they are about radio.  Whether the Andrew Gilligan Radio 4 interview; the Ross/Brand debacle; or the Royal 'prank call', they are about radio.  When the DG of the BBC resigned, it was probably the Radio 4 interview by Humphrys which was credited with being one of the final pieces in that uncomfortable jigsaw.  A hundred years on and the medium of radio remains the one which creates the headlines.  The unwashed simplicity and agility of the medium combine to great effect; and in the interview situation, the intimacy through the single dimension of voice exposes the truth effortlessly.

Every day, every presenter will connect  with their audience.  Sometimes that connection is a smile.  Very frequently too, it's a tangible response, a phone call, a text, or a social media exchange.  Pick up any listener email today and study the language.  It is the language of a friend writing to a friend.  Yes, the talk stations will generate probably more response, but good music presenters on decent stations now will readily agree that they have a friendship with their audience.  And their audience would agree.

As the world changes, it's certain that others will indeed trespass in radio's garden, just as TV once did.  There will be a shift, but as the Observer newspaper correctly said of radio in 1953 after TV's Coronation coverage "For sound radio, no flowers yet".  Many of us recall the scare stories when the primary-coloured breakfast TV kicked in back in 1983.   At the time of ILR's inception, there was also the fear of the radio-cassette player.  But, it's tough still to envisage a total substitute for a medium which 90% of people consume for over 20 hours a week, given the affection listeners show towards their radio. 

Sometimes when one struggles for a definition, it's useful to consider the inverse. What radio isn't.  Or maybe how much you'd miss it if it wasn't there.  Ask any programme director who's dared to change a schedule, presenter or station name, or close a station to proffer an answer to that.    

The question of 'what is radio' falls into ever sharper focus as music streaming services multiply and press and conference coverage amplifies their existence.  Maybe there is no clear answer to the conundrum.  Is a flow of great songs streamed at will radio or not? Is the Media Guardian's elegant podcast a radio programme or not?  

Just maybe there is no glib black and white answer.  Just as Freud suggested that sexuality lay on a continuum, maybe radio is the same.  Some sorts of sound are just more like radio than others. 

Consider too the dictionary definition of radio remains about carriage not content.  We have, however, chosen to adopt the word 'radio' as shorthand for 'radio programming'.  Maybe, today, we should frame a new definition for submission to the OED.

The contradictions of radio are likely part of its attraction. It's perfect, yet imperfect; surprising, yet consistent; active, yet passive; talking, yet musical; amusing, yet serious; personal, yet huge; trite yet life-saving.  It's a friend and it's alive.

Read too Phil Riley's blog. Should we be worried about Apple?
And Mark Barber's analysis (RAB) of 'how to tell if your streamed music service is radio'.

BRMB - The 1972 proposals

Pages of neatly typed foolscap; and smelling like a dusty old bookshop.

The original BRMB commercial radio franchise application from Birmingham Broadcasting Ltd. makes interesting reading, 41 years on.  Turn the pages of the document which successfully secured the right to operate the first commercial radio station in England outside London.

The warped cover on this December 1972 epistle trumpets an ‘application for a programme contractors licence for an independent radio station in Birmingham’. The dirty word ‘commercial’ being a step too far back then, in the days when huge suspicion remained about radio being left to anyone else apart from the BBC.  Here was a country where, unusually, commercial TV pre-dated commercial radio; save for a few tentative steps in a pre-Corporation 1920s.

The document slid through the large Independent Broadcasting Authority letterbox, as one of four bids for the Birmingham crown in the first round of commercial radio beauty contests. This new IBA regulator was a hastily re-branded Independent Television Authority, thanks to a quick logo change and a few desks moved around, after the Sound Broadcasting Act 1972 was passed by the new 1970 Conservative Government.

Inside this doorstep loose-leaf volume, reminiscent of a hefty college project, a tale unfolds of a bygone age.  There are many characters still around today with considerable insight who could share juicy gossip from the time. I can merely leaf through the musty pages, typed, one suspects, on one of those duplicating stencils, using a battered old Remington.

The name BRMB was said to be "in line with international practice of call letters – easy to remember and easily set to music", "a natural abbreviation of the Company’s name" and "no connotation  which would offend" any of the "different communities". 

A little like the more recent Radio Authority/OFCOM licence applications, the text kicks off with  a list of the ten directors, including MD David Pinnell, an executive who’d worked overseas in radio and TV; and programme manager, John Russell, fresh from BFBS and the BBC. Non-execs included the principal of Solihull College, John Parkinson; and two directors from the largest shareholder, the Birmingham Mail group.  

Some members of this applicant group were probably a little bored with waiting, frankly, given Birmingham Broadcasting Ltd had been formed  as long ago as 1961.  The Birmingham Mail probably put the sherry back in the cupboard when Labour won the 1964 election.  Other shareholders  included: the Birmingham Chamber of Commerce; The Co-Op; Davenports and M & B Brewery; a trade union; Grey's and Lewis's store; ATV; newspaper publisher, Berrow's; some local manufacturers; and even Dennis Howell MP, with a careful assurance that no one shareholder had the ability, really, to influence very much at all.  

Read more about the journey from 1961 to going on air in my flick through the fascinating company board minutes here.

Revenues were forecast at £346,000 in Year One, rising to £692,000 in Year Three, yielded from an audience estimate of a 40% adult audience reach. Bearing in mind this estimate was framed before any other commercial station had gone on air; and research of existing ones was scant, the accuracy of this guess really merits a box of Mint Cracknels in recognition.  Little wonder the IBA later congratulated the BRMB team on the quality of its research.  £146k would be invested in studio cap-ex and the such-like, including £12,200 for a fleet of cars.  Whilst Trent had Allegros at launch, I gather BRMB had some Cortinas - and even 'the car you always promised yourself' - the Capri.  Total overheads amounted to around £600,000 by Year Three; profit was forecast in Year Two.

Alongside the dull costs which sit on every radio  P & L to this day,  there are a few which furrow a forehead.   Up to £100,000, by year three, was to be spent on musicians, and a similar fee for IBA rental.  Remember, though, that BRMB was pitching to be just a programme contractor; the IBA would transmit the programmes.

What became known as 'local support, was very much in evidence, the applicant had written to hundreds of local groups.  Back then, even that exercise would have taken weeks of effort by the typing pool.

So.  Programmes.  News first.  National content would come from the ‘all London news station’ (identity unknown); and local news would be assembled by seven journalists equipped, I suspect, with heavy UHER tape recorders and shorthand skills.  Their efforts would be supplemented by press, agencies and those lovely ‘stringers’. The research suggested the wisdom of shorter bulletins, broadcast weekdays from 0500- 2000. ‘Modern communication equipment’ such as 'radio-phones' (did they exist yet?) and a 'mobile unit' might be used. Local information would include lost animals, X-ray clinics, chemists' rotas and farming services.

This was a sensibly framed application, for its time.  It recognised that listeners no longer ‘sit by their sets in the living room’ and that ‘listeners tune in and out’; it highlighted too the importance of programme consistency; the appeal of music shows, and of focusing attention on daytime.  Its staffing levels were not over-arduous; and it established when it could afford local news and when it would rely on national. It also suggested people would enjoy "ever-increasing leisure time", which maybe it did get wrong.

The application recognised the competition as Radio 1 and Radio 2 (heard largely on medium and long wave, of course, back then).  It suggested it would target listeners from BBC Radio 1, 2, 3, 4, BBC Birmingham and Radio Luxembourg.  UK radio listening was seen as being at lower levels than overseas, apart from in Birmingham, where it sat at normal World levels.  I’ve just reminded Rajar of that.  The research appendix found only 54% of people had access to an FM radio. Mind you, 19% didn't really know.  Tony Blackburn was the most-liked UK 'disc jockey'.  Followed by Jimmy Savile.  

This is interesting. "Are people in Birmingham interested in a local radio station?", questioned the application.  "In the main, no", it boldly concluded.  The NOP/CODATA research suggested 34% of listeners quite liked the thought of a record programme for Birmingham folk, whereas 45% preferred one where anyone in the UK could participate.  It was asserted that listeners were cynical after the "failure of the newest radio service, (BBC) Radio Birmingham". Community leaders "scarcely bother listening". Thus, a music-intensive service, punctuated with information was the likely route. Having said all that, the  aspirant operator wisely stressed the importance of LOCAL, written, indeed, in upper case.  Yes, "local broadcasters talking to local listeners about local events".

How lovely is this, under the heading: 'underlying satisfaction of radio’. "Radio succeeds" because it helps an individual "feel part of his society, combats loneliness".  It also "bolsters self-confidence...and self respect, and counters boredom of the routine, none more than the housewife and mother". Indeed.  

Music? It was all about "familiarity, tunefulness, quality of lyrics, tempo and quality of performance, appealing to a wide range of age groups and musical tastes". Not "wallpaper music" nor the "endless Top 50".

62 staff would work on the station, with 29 in programming, 16 in sales and 5 engineers. 12 people were in admin.  Let's remember back then there were few computers, so ad logs and, well, everything, just relied on a chewed Biro. The general manager would earn between £9,000 and £11,000 per annum; programme manager, news editor, and sales manager at around £5,000. 'Announcers' were rightfully some way down the scale at between £2,000 and £3,000, around the same as the 'maintenance technician'; and just a little more than the person doing ‘cassette make up’ (copying ads onto cassettes for clients) at between £900 and £1,200.   The music programmer came out with £1,100 to spend on flares and flowery shirts, a little  less than the 'newsman' at £1,600-£3,000.  'Salesmen' were on £1,750 to £3,000. Women, it seems, were rarely envisaged. And no IT guy.  

The IBA had a fetish about ads being separated from programming; and indeed from each other.  This application suggested, accordingly, ‘an electric gong' or similar between ads, but wisely cautioned it could become irritating.  In other words, "yeah we’ll do that if you insist, but it’d sound bloody stupid".  BRMB would be launched within six months of  a licence award. I suspect the engineer did not type that bit.

One can unfold a draft programme schedule, showing ‘Start the Day Right’ at 0500; ‘Contact’ at 0800; and 'A DJ show' at 1100. 'First edition' followed at 1200, with 'Homespun' at 1400; and the legendary 'Tradio' at 1600, where listeners could swap unwanted items.  Including pets, it said: "Hey, my dog's a real pain, may I please swap it for your nice Collie".  I think they’d run out of programme titles by they got to naming the evening show ‘5 onwards’.  ‘Up to date traffic’ was a proud feature, warning of "delays which may affect the arrival time of other members of the family". That's how life was in pre-iPhone days. There was also a ‘housewife of the day’ feature. Of course.

It's easy to smile at the odd programme strand.  Overall, though, this is a more prescient document than I imagined as as it fell off the shelf.  Here were some people who'd spent considerable time considering their approach.  There is a firm foundation of solid radio thinking, melded with the sort of language which they sensibly knew the regulator would wish to read when discharging its statutory obligations.  It did not, however, over-promise on programme delivery, and made, potentially controversial, points with confidence and reason. 

The level of detail was some way behind the, maybe excessive, degree of detail requested in later licence rounds, where a regulator had to 'broaden choice' from stations which already existed.  The specific music stipulation and endless percentages of this and that, by which applicants later won their licences, and then asked to be changed, are absent.

And.  I know I'll get a few folks' blood boiling when I say this.  But when I read in these 1972 proposals of music flow, short news bulletins, a bit of information here and there, consistency, and doing a bit of good when one can, maybe we have not come as far as some suggest from what sensible people were once promising in markets which already enjoy excellent BBC radio.

Interested in what it was like inside early commercial radio? Grab my own personal memories of those days in the book 'Radio Moments'

LISTEN: BRMB - 1974 test audio and launch
LISTEN: Les Ross, last show
LISTEN: Les Ross in 1989
LISTEN: Tony Butler 1983
LISTEN: Two Strangers & a Wedding 1999
LISTEN: The Walkathon returns! 2011
LISTEN: Tom Ross - IRN Gold Award Winner 2011
LISTEN: BRMB Party in The Park 1997
WATCH: John Russell reflects in a video interview