Commercial Radio. How it might have been.

Robin Day adjusted his bow tie and wheezed.

Across a black and white TV studio, the Swingometer nudged a touch into the red in the dark hours of night. His sweaty Conservative front-bencher guest shifted uncomfortably in his leathern seat as the UK prepared to wake up to another Labour morning.

It was March 1966. Good old Harold had called a quick General Election to fix his small majority. Young Ted Heath had barely sailed his way around the Opposition leadership. He lost. Labour was returned to Number 10.

What might have happened had the swing been the other way? It could so easily have been.

A fresh Conservative government would have quietly been just as eager to sideline the pirate chappies broadcasting from the North Sea, as the 70s were to prove. It would, though, have been more sympathetic to the prospect of legitimate commercial radio.  And less at ease with the prospect of the BBC spreading its wings at all, let alone into pop and local radio.  History suggests that BBC Local Radio's eventual arrival turned out to be touch and go: it dawned,  thanks in no small part to the persuasive case from the great Frank Gillard. And Auntie's foray into pop music radio certainly had its critics within and outwith its own camp.

A smug, new 1966 Conservative Culture Secretary who smiled to camera as he walked across Downing Street in that March sunshine would have had a number of exciting ideas in his head.  What would he do with the huge swathe of unused FM spectrum?  Although FM radios were few and far between, the likelihood was that they would catch on.  Maybe an F-Love ad campaign or something similar might have helped.  So, nothing to be lost.  Give the private sector a bash. Charge them for spectrum usage and see what happens. 

Local or national? Well, there was no proven track record of local radio; and, we know for sure, plenty of voices suggesting that it would amount to but "triviality and mediocrity...even if the parish pump could be kept gurgling...it would have no listeners" (The Times, Feb 1962).  So, to get maybe a little more Treasury trove for that spectrum than maybe the 2013 Government got for 4G, probably a few national radio licences would have been prepared for the rubber stamp.

Roll on February 1967.  Test transmissions crackle through the ether for the new national commercial Radio Elizabeth.

It wouldn’t have been very good. 

History suggests that some early commercial blood clearly understood competitive format radio, programming slick stations some way ahead of their time. Other early commercial operators were more comfortable with stentorian Lost Dog radio.  The record shows that many led the charge against, not for, large regional and national commercial stations. 

Ironically, the eventual architect of BBC Radio 1, Robin Scott, would probably have made a decent fist of programming the commercial Radio Elizabeth in 1967, had he sat in the PD chair with his pile of ¼ inch tapes of the pirate Radio London.  'Stand-by for switching.  Radio Elizabeth. Go!"  He would have been wisely complemented by one of the more rational and commercially-astute pirate chaps in the office next door as Sales Director/MD; and a miserable FD to remind him not to hire every single DJ off the pirate ships.  And Tony Blackburn would still have been first on.  Woof woof. 

Its audience success, however, would probably have depended just how free the regulatory codes were.  Would these foolscap pages have permitted a national station which sounded like an early brash and colourful Trent or Beacon; or would the regulator have insisted on something more akin to a nascent, more reserved Hallam or BRMB?  One imagines a brave Tory Culture Secretary would have been less inclined to deposit radio’s regulatory duties down Brompton Road  with the IBA; and invent a new, more liberal radio regulator.  Not least because the latter might be more likely to offer him some Brits tickets, so he could take his mistress to see the Rolling Stones.

It would have sorted itself out.  As would the next commercial national.  They would have been sold on a few times; and settled. No station would have been made to do speech, so TalkSPORT would never have been born. Similarly, the management of Radio Elizabeth would not have been inclined to nod through an Xcel spreadsheet about a format change to Classical music.
 

Seeing the glint of cash, the regulator would have shoved the police messages off 105-108 MHz by the end of the 60s, and made way for a limited network of local commercial radio in major cities.  

Then, as the 1966 Tory Government was pushed aside in a hasty 1970 Election, the BBC would be able to make headway and persuade an excited re-elected Harold Wilson that BBC Local Radio was the only way communities of under 300,000 were going to get a local radio service at all.

Where would we be by 2013?  Brand-led national commercial radio would be a generation ahead of where it is now; and advertisers would have been able to grasp the medium and buy it with ease.  Without Radio 1, commercial radio would be delivering the lion’s share of listening and a share of advertising a few % ahead of where it now sits.  Brand integration would never have been banned, let alone un-banned.  Powerful national pop-brands would be complemented by successful and proud big-city radio; and the BBC would be better-funded to do more of exactly what it does best in top quality speech, smaller markets, minority formats, and older demographics.

As it has turned out, we are wisely engineering much of the above backwards, with some necessary pain along the way, probably to a slightly less satisfactory conclusion.  We’ve had little choice.  The last 40 years have been a tough journey with huge frustrations.  Its idiosyncrasies though have provided a fund of some truly great memories and rich learnings.  Radio will never be quite like it again.

Pip pip peeep.

The Pips signal the start of so many great moments in radio. A pause amidst the energy. A grave announcement. A simple sound amongst the complex. Silence separated.

Before the advent of the Pips, a pianist would mark the time on the radio by playing the notes of the Big Ben chimes; or they'd merrily bang a set of tubular bells. What a gig that must have been. 

The Pips sounded their familiar B notes six times for the first time on the evening of February the 5th 1924.  It wasn't a truly fresh idea: Marconi's research department had mooted the move on the day the BBC was born.  Their eventual arrival followed a touch of lobbying from the then Astronomer Royal, Derbyshire's Sir Frank Watson Dyson, and the prospect was greeted enthusiastically by DG, John Reith, who was not averse to a bit of precision. John was, in any case, presumably buoyed by the introduction of the Big Ben chimes earlier in the year.  Frank duly sorted out some mechanical clocks in the Royal Greenwich Observatory after chatting it over with the chap who invented the pendulum clock. Handy to have friends like that. Two clocks were used, in case one broke down. Belt and braces. It’s the unique way they’re funded. Mind you, they only cost twenty quid each.  

On the first evening, the Astronomer Royal himself jocked up to the pips, presumably to a puzzled public.  The sound was conveyed to Broadcasting House by telephone line.  The clever thing was (and your engineers can explain this. Probably at length): they turned the sound inside out, so the pips were actually gaps in the constant 1kHz tone. So, if the line went down between pipping time, the piercing constant noise would cease. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know it wasn’t there until, well, until it wasn’t there. 

The equipment, now governed by an electronic clock, later moved to the magnetic observatory at Abinger in  Surrey, before clocking off for a move to Herstmonceux Castle in 1957.

The final pip had been the same length as the others, but as a flared-trousered Britain toasted the start of 1972, they lengthened it, just so you knew it really was the last one. Counting pips was not the answer, owing to those genuine occasions where time catching up with itself demanded an extra pip. I’d love to see the ‘beware - there are 7 pips tomorrow‘ memo. Bet there was one.

In 1990, exactly on their anniversary, the BBC moved to making its own pips.  Maybe one day it will be an independent production again.  I’ll pitch.  They're now based on signals from the GPS network and from the 60 kHz radio transmitter at Rugby.

A bored Noel Edmonds used to cheer himself up whilst on the Radio 1 breakfast show, by playing with the pips, and ensuring that such play ended just in time to hit the vocal.  On this medley of tribute audio though, you’ll hear him indulge a little more.  Enjoy too an unfortunate pips-related Radio 4 clanger (beware- offensive word) where continuity announcer, Peter Jefferson, made all too clear his displeasure at tripping over his words (language alert); and then a piece of delicious Eddie Mair who converted his own pip mishap into a piece to fill a convenient gap later in PM.

Despite delayed Digital Radio signals and buffered online streaming rendering the Pips a tad confusing for radio listeners, they are still very much part of the broadcasting landscape. Such is the fondness for the concept and its history, the old Six Pip master clock still enjoys pride of place at the Greenwich Observatory.

For a more scientific explanation of the Pips; and the way they were generated then and now, enjoy this clip from Inside Science on Radio 4. 

After 28 years in radio, I spoke up to the Pips for the first time at BBC Radio Nottingham. It makes one shiver. My remaining ambitions include saying 'Radio 4'; and also breaking through the security barriers at the BBC World Service just to say 'This is London' just before Lilliburlero.

A delicious short Arena TV film on the Time Signal dropping in pitch! (HT @Radiojottings)

I work with radio stations around the world in a range of areas. From programme strategy to research, key brand work and marketing strategy. From presenter training to compliance, consultation responses and licensing. Talk to me via www.davidlloydradio.com

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Why is UK commercial talk radio a challenge?

"Sally's on from Croydon. Hello, Sally. "

The history of UK talk/speech radio is an interesting one, certainly for those in radio overseas, puzzling how the format has not been such a huge hit in Blighty as it is in the US, with its large, attentive and often more up-market audiences. 

The first commercial station proper, LBC in London, was an all-talk format.  Launched in the tough industrial climate of the 70s, with an over-eager regulator and government vacillating on commercial radio legislation, it was always to be a tough job. Not least, because for 50 years, the BBC had owned the talk and news territory. (Some fun history here).

Revenues were always challenging for the format too, with its audience falling outside the 25-44 UK commercial heartland, and well above the age of 22 year old skater-Ben, hot-desking at his London media-buying agency. The talk audiences were also, apart from TalkSPORT, only in certain markets (at most, Liverpool, Edinburgh, London), which is an ill-suited framework for a national client-brand seeking to use radio to market powerfully. 

We can maybe justifiably point a finger here at the regulators: had they been bolder in licence rounds in, for example, Manchester and Birmingham, UK commercial talk format scale could have helped itself along.  Whilst I am sure GMG was delighted to win the Rock-Talk licence in Manchester, even those who assembled the application concede it was a bizarre licensing decision.  The regulator felt it could address eminently defensible cases for both formats by combining them on-air. Madness. The BBC of course, benefited from years of heritage generating a hugely loyal audience; reception universality; more money to spend; and guaranteed, consistent income. And no problem with the age of that audience either. 

Do the UK's regulations on partiality impact on audience performance? I'd argue probably not.  The UK is accustomed to a more measured approach rather than 'shock-jockery'; and the existing rules, inversely, do allow 'due prominence' of views. This permits a stance which can be sufficiently antagonistic for British ears.  It certainly means the commercial sector can, at least, avoid the 'you might think this; or you might think that' approach, in favour of livelier conversation.

Many times in recent years, a 'competitor to Radio 4' has been mooted; and seized eagerly in glib press headlines.  Channel 4 had bold plans which they nurtured persistently for some years. Those of us in the sector at the time, not least those of us who were talked to about jobs there, walked away from interviews thinking 'if they offered me a job, I'd be a fool to take it'.  We could have saved them a lot of money.  If a listener wants Radio 4, they can have it. If you seek to do what it does, you will fail.  It is the World's finest radio station; and I would campaign on the streets personally with a fluorescent placard were there any risk to this rare, beautiful, beautiful, animal. 

What commercial radio must do if talk is to succeed is to do it simply and differently. Entertaining, intelligent communicators hosting strip shows, aided by a small number of the very best producers.  TalkSPORT has succeeded because it is a definite focussed offering.   LBC is again now succeeding, after years of neglect because it hires the right guys on-air, choosing its topics with the care of a skilled music programmer. Nick Ferrari is, quite simply, a leader in his field in the UK; as is James Whale. James O'Brien is now honing a distinctive act to perfection; and there are others on the roster who also excel. 

Doing great talk radio is not just a skill, it is an art. BBC Local Radio is at its best when it's not pretending to be a music station or Radio 4; but when it has entertaining communicators who know their patch and know their audience, their concerns and their loves. 

Great talk radio (as opposed to speech radio), recognises the value of the listeners' contributions. If you can get the right callers on-air and speak to them in the right way, you create the most brilliant truly un-substitutable radio.  With guests, it is as much about their personalities as about what they are talking about.  Like comedy, great talk radio sounds easy, but it is tough. The words you choose and the order you put them in are the difference between the next great caller calling; or not bothering.  And the difference between someone continuing to listen - or not.  It is what you say and what you don't.  Seizing the moment.  The instinct for recognising when a caller has something unsaid to say.  Like in real life, you need to be able to hop from laughter to tears in seconds without it sounding like a car crash; and be able to generate either whenever you want to.  It's about great stories; great conversation.  One must understand which of the topics the media identifies as 'news' are  really news; often feeding the heart as much as the mind.  In short, it's about always being aware of the real reason why people have chosen to listen. What is the real motivator?

It's not good enough to put some idiot behind the glass.  Great production is hugely important: to get the reluctant caller on air; to suggest the most powerful question; to help shape the angle of a topic; and never, ever, to get things wrong.  Although it's likely not on their job description, they also need to make the presenter feel a million dollars.  A producer who plays with their phone when the board is quiet whilst the presenter is in mid monologue needs to go find a job somewhere else.  Look up.  Appreciate.  The mood the presenter is in affects a show within seconds. They need to be supported, happy, confident and appreciated. 

Wisely, neither LBC nor TalkSPORT is pretending to be Radio 4 or 5 Live. As others have sadly found, alas too late, doing talk commercially without the revenues to pay the most gifted communicators means you will be asking the regulator if you can play some songs before long. And that's not really the answer either.

Talk radio is the purest form of radio. Microphone. Transmitter.  Listener.   It is one of the reasons why irreplaceable radio will, yet again, outlive its  seeming competitors. 

Follow my daily #radiomoments @davidlloydradio. Check my site too www.davidlloydradio.com

Hashtag Hell

“On breakfast this morning Matthew Gudgin wants to know do you think department stores should have more seating?”, announced my Twitter feed.

I’ve a story on that very topic.  I was in John Lewis the other day, and my legs almost gave way. Luckily there was a soft red chair a few feet away and I struggled to it. Not sure what I’d have done otherwise.

Actually, I just made up that compelling, dramatic tale.  But the Tweet is real enough, courtesy of Radio Norfolk.

BBC Local Radio Tweets are becoming an art-form. Norfolk often excels at rhetoric:

"Good morning! At breakfast today - rail fares are going up again. Is that fair? Do you get good value for money?"

Presumably, some furious listeners rang in to say it was disgraceful. Maybe a few even called to say they were quite happy, and roll on more increases. Who knows.

I do like the cheery salutations too, despite what follows:

"Good morning! At breakfast - have you ever been burgled? What affect does it have on your life?" (‘scuse spelling)

And a very good morning to you too.  They love that, do BBC Locals.  The false sense of comfy reassurance, then BOOM. Almost Shakespearean:

"Happy Boxing Day. @HarrietScott_ & Chris Rogers presenting breakfast this morning. Talking tube strikes, sales & xmas disasters", suggested BBC London.

Oh no. Thank goodness for the cheery reassurance prompted by others: 

“Worried about the "13" in 2013? The Bishop of Worcester says don't be, in his New year message on BBC H & W facebook page now. “

Phew.  Similarly, BBC Stoke, tempts us with:

“ On the Breakfast Show now...the Chief Exec of @SoTCityCouncil on his first three years in charge”

Then, the station usefully summarises the Chief Exec's appearance with a gentle:

“The chief Executive of Stoke on Trent City Council says the authority is making good progress”

That's nice.  Reminds me of the old ‘is there anything else you’d like to tell us, Minister’, interviewing of the 1950s.

Some stations do excel at Twitter.  Blending the local news and relevant information with genuine engagement.  Making good use of the fact that Twitter is social media,  not a broadcaster.  And one can observe easily the accounts which are well-managed; and where the station chats back to those who comment on its programmes or policies.  

The other great thing about excellent Twitter use is that it can harvest information; and sometimes you can prod that process with a stick, as did BBC Stoke:

“There's a fire at a Cattery on the A34 between Stafford and Cannock. Qasa is on his way but any updates would be great!”

Miaow. One expects, of course, that only a significant lonely and atypical minority of the stations' target audiences are likely on Twitter currently; and the medium is, therefore, probably best used 'business-facing' at present, rather than 'consumer-facing'.  Ergo, to receive information and investigate, rather than to address listeners at large.  Accordingly, to make a song and dance about Twitter on-air probably suggests a station which misunderstands its audience.

Some stations do excel at teasing, though; and one cannot but help reach for the wireless knob when BBC Radio Manchester ‏tempts us with:

“Nxt, a blind author from Stockport tells us how he ended up on a balcony wearing nothing but his pants. And he's a#WorldRecordHolder!”

Sometimes, despite the fairly routine minor story unfolding, there is a sense of urgency  to the plea to listen.  An illustration from BBC Leicester:

“It's hoped a new plan to solve a dispute over the use of a former scout hut in Leicester will bring months of protests to an end.104.9FM now”

NOW! Goodness.  Don’t miss it.  Do as you are told. 

In some stations, the Managing Editors appear to be busy assembling torrents of news Tweets on their private accounts; which the station account re-Tweets. I’m not awfully sure whether they should be busy managing or something instead.  They are the sorts of stations which just have news on their feed.  No chitter- chatter, oh no, just: ‘Bar stabbing victim 'improving'.

It might be argued that station accounts should reflect something of the rich character and conversation of the station, rather than just shouting news headlines.  Without going as far as pointless jolly tripe.  Just doing news Tweets is rather like someone just popping up from behind the cushion and shouting news headlines at you; before retreating. Without so much as a 'by your leave', as I think they say in Coronation Street.

BBC Stoke likes to go overboard with a few pleasantries:   “Have a good friday!”

They also trouble to offer up those crucial titbits, without which we’d be lost:

“A Staffordshire German Shepherd has been named the top police dog in the country.”

Some of the detailed info proffered sounds mundane;  but for some listeners it’s actually going to be useful. Knock this if you like, but you’d be wrong to:

“#SOLENTTRAVEL:Work at Newport bus station from 9.00am. Bus route 1 then goes from Stand A. Temp stop opp Morrisons for 2, 3, 6, & 8. Judy”

Mind you, listening to BBC Solent does, on occasions sound demanding:

“What were you doing 20, 30 or 40 years ago this month? The Cartridge years areJan 1973, 1983 & 1993 from 2 “

Goodness.  How many memories have I got to think up? It may take me some time.  They should pay ME the licence fee.

Compare that with the more engaging: 

"Harry Worth was in panto @RoyalNottingham and this is Kirkby Bentinck station in our Golden Year @BBCNottingham from 12 pic.twitter.com/v15xJBX8"

Now, let's just celebrate; with cheery BBC Stoke:

“Morning All! Stuart & Katy with you for Breakfast and Katy's brought her camera!  pic.twitter.com/h0fyMEAt “

Katy looks pleasant enough; and there was probably a back-story for her having a camera; of which I am ignorant.

Then there’s there’s the international incident which opens up scope for parallel listener tales:   ‘X has happened, and we want your stories’, sort of thing.   Witness the strategy of consultant, Valerie Geller.  She used to suggest that few people are particularly interested in opinions, but everyone likes to poke their nose into a story.  She might have a point. After all, are any vox-pops remotely interesting or illuminating, unless there’s a funny one at the end?  So, the thinking goes that  whatever has happened, you MUST have a related personal story.

BBC WM takes this to the max; and if I were offering awards, they would win:

“An American family forgot to bury Grandma 17 years ago and had left her in a storage unit! Have you ever forgotten something? 08453 00 99 56.”

It did prompt some response tweets, with tongue firmly in cheek, from @Ian64:

“Every day, people wake up or go to bed. Have you ever done it, or know people who have? We'd like to hear from you. 08453 00 99 56”

WM had the graciousness and self-deprecating good humour to re-Tweet.

I shall actually leave the final word to Ian too:

“Have you ever rang Radio WM? If so, why not call us and tell us why you did it in the first place? 08453 00 99 56.”

My more serious Twitter observations here.
And do check www.davidlloydradio.com too.
Follow me on Twitter for daily #radiomoments @davidlloydradio

Day One - The Launch

The presenters wore smart pastel shirts and stripey ties on the launch day.  In fact, we wore them every day.  It was the view of the Chief Executive of  Lincs FM that clients might fear we were a pirate radio station if we wore a T shirt.  Mind you, his own livelihood relied hugely on the station's success, so he had the right to insist we all wore pink frocks, had he wished.

Such was the hubbub in the green office from the civic guests and clinking glasses on that first morning that the assembled throng nearly missed the opening words.  I cranked up the amp in the office and yelled 'shhhh' in an impatient sort of way, maybe forgivable from someone who's been up most of the night.  I still cringe at some of my edits and mixes on that launch sequence. Not that it helps now.

You've given birth.  You are a proud parent of something which will increasingly do what it wants, rather than what you want.  One day, it will no longer need you; and will likely continue in some form long after you're dead.  Click on the links in this blog; and enjoy some of those memorable moments.

Some stations make a three course meal of their launch day, talking incessantly on-air about how special it all is.  Compulsory remarks include: how tired they are; how long they've been practising; how nervous they are; and how the people in the office are drinking champagne.  But that they're not allowed to consume alcohol as they're on the air. Tee hee.  Radio Wyvern read out a message from  seemingly every single person in Worcester.

Other stations just jumped right in. The edict from Trent's Programme Controller in 1975, Bob Synder, was 'behave as if you've always been here'. 'Imagine you were around, you went away, and now you're back'.  One witnesses a thoroughly proficient music radio sound on that station from Day One. No indulgence, John Peters just got on with it. The same was true at Beacon.  Despite the huge commercial and regulatory challenges of those two stations in their early days, they were probably decades ahead of their time in music radio formatics.  That was evident in the fact that someone had drawn back from the navel-gazing mood of the moment to consider 'what do our audience really want?'.    Contrast this US-influenced clean music programming with the more sedate launch of stations like Radio Hallam, with its BBC DNA.

In fairness, apart from a typical Blackburn gag or two and Arnold woofing, Radio 1 in 1967, more or less got on with the job straightaway too; and one cannot help but admire Controller, Robin Scott's countdown to the two new services; "5, 4, 3, Radio 2, Radio 1. Go."

Many stations allow the Chairman a rare outing on air, come launch day. He typically invites himself to utter a few scripted words in true RP, sometimes introduced by the presenter who is at a loss just  how to introduce this strange man; and probably not awfully sure what he does.  Ocean Sound did it. Radio 210 (2-Ten) in Reading even sat him down in a pair of Beyers when they turned on a new transmitter.  Red Rose Radio was maybe the only one to have the Chairman at launch, with an ad in the same hour for one of his own businesses.

Radio Clyde was philosophical, with beautifully-carved words; and Moray Firth had a prayer.  The voice of David Symonds was almost choked with emotion as he began his round of thanks on the UK's first official commercial (ILR) station, Capital, in 1973.

Is the station's launch a news story, per se?  Every decent journalist will probably say 'well, it depends what else is around on the day's news agenda'; but probably the majority include it in their own bulletins. Some as a brief 'and finally' softee; others what appears to be an accidental mini-documentary. Witness Fosseway Radio.

If ever there were a case for a long station jingle, you may as well make it for the launch. Radio Manchester had a jingle to die for. Wyvern had its own song,   Some stations opt for the ethereal strings from nowhere and some scripted words of portent.  Southern Sound played its lengthy theme proudly and mentioned its origins; and BBC Radio Merseyside mused a little about its idents, made by the BBC Radiophonic workshop.

BBC Locals are indeed a different kettle of fish.  In the '60s and '70s, the local clock chiming and a Mayor with chain clanking was as good a place to start as any. BBC Radio Nottingham even called upon the Town Crier (mind you, so did the commercial Mix 96 in Aylesbury).

Many in the first tranche of these BBC 'home town stations'  included a familiar speech from the Postmaster General who issued the injunction:  "Programmes must always be lively, never dull".  Maybe more fittingly, others featured words from their real father: Frank Gillard.  There's also the ambitious OB; as attempted by Radio Merseyside, from 'high and low places'.  Maybe just a touch over-ambitious, as is transpired.

Radio Birmingham symbolised the birth with some random baby crying.  Some, more recently, tried humour, with the presenters at BBC Radio Gloucestershire trying to act out a little comedy drama.  Always better to be a proper actor if you're going to make a good fist of that, in my view.  Radio Teeside chose a listener to bid welcome, which is as good an approach as any for that format.

Despite the  best preparations, things can go annoyingly awry.  Too many omit to fade up the news jingle promptly; or fade up the IRN bulletin too promptly. Roger Day probably still shivers when he hears the Beach Boys vinyl wow in on the first moments of his first show on Piccadilly.  Mind you, it did not stop him tempting fate with the same song (albeit likely from CD) at the Pirate FM launch.  And whose bright idea was it to call a hospital on the launch day of Plymouth Sound?  Presenter Colin Bower sought to speak to a Nurse on the ward where a child had been born at the same moment as the station.  Whilst one admires his determination, he maybe should have given up a  touch earlier.

Another classic moment was Metro's playing in of a tape at the wrong speed.  Video does exist and one can see head in hands.  Seems funny now. I suspect it did not on the day.

What of the first song? It appeared for a time that there was a regulatory edict requiring Tina Turner's 'Simply The Best'.  Star FM simply had to start with Rose Royce 'Wishing On A Star' (introduced by Peter Dickson before his X-Factor days).  For other reasons, the legendary John  Myers  just had to launch all his own Century and Real stations diffidently with 'A Star is Born'.  I recall being in the huge marquee as Century 105 launched in Manchester, and that occasion brought home what a poignant moment a launch is for not only the station's presenters, but more so the tired engineers, the worried management; and their respective long-suffering partners.

The launch of Trent 945 in Derbyshire was thoroughly enjoyable.  Assembling the pre-launch test transmissions and the launch moment was my way of having fun.  Without fear of a disciplinary process at this late stage, may I confess that I returned to the studio the night before launch in March 1987, admittedly fulled by a few glasses of wine.  I opted out of the test transmission music tapes, and played all my promos and every one of the station jingle cuts back to back on-air.  At least I re-cued the carts as I threw them in and out the triple-stack.  

It's easy to look back dewy-eyed at the bygone decades of commercial radio.  Listening back to some of the launches brings one back to reality with a thump the weight of a Uher.  These inaugural minutes probably include just about everything one would wisely not do now.  Successive hugely-long incestuous links with little entertainment or informational value within; shopping lists of show features; the names of unknown presenters later on that day; combined with over-long news bulletins; and  songs we've never heard of.  If a station like that were to come on-air today against a significantly more competitive backdrop, with the BBC now more mainstream and Radio 1 on FM, well few would notice.  Because few would listen.

Witness, though, some more recent approaches. The inspired poetic launches of Isle of Wight Radio; and of Xfm South Wales. Maybe Kerrang 105.2's was a touch long an indulgent; but it had some nice touches of which they should be proud. TeamRock's in June 2013 was also inspired - and beautfully done.

Whilst we should all probably spend our time on engineering programming excellence across the output over the first months as  a whole, and accept that just three men and a dog may be the likely audience at dawn on Day One, maybe it's just human nature to want to do something a touch special to mark the moment.   Then again, with DAB stations  opening and closing more frequently; and analogue stations re-branding more often, just maybe launches in future won't seem quite the same as the day of your wedding any more.

If you do decide to do 'a launch', just don't bother with a 'countdown'. It's been done before.

Enjoy audio from well over a hundred stations launching on my site here.  Thanks to friends old and new for contributions, including Paul Easton and Andy Walmsley.

Is there anyone any good out there?

I can recite a few tales of stunning individuals who arrive in our clan, with the old blood surging through their veins.  They give their all: their own time and expense in pursuit of a long-term career they were born to achieve.  They never question whether they are to be paid, or how much.  They give everything they have; and, hopefully, those who take them in through their doors honourably make sure they are not out-of-pocket.  Such people are bright, bright-eyed and identifiable within seconds.  They want to help.  They give before they ask to receive; and by that time, you’re already keen to lend a hand before they even have to ask – because you are desperate they should stay with your company for the rest of their lives.  They watch, they listen; and they soak up what they need to know effortlessly.  Because they are interested. To see their enthusiasm make me dewy-eyed. 

But am I alone in despairing, largely, of a generation? 

There are others  who write in to us, not really knowing my name.  They suggest they want a career in media, but are not entirely sure.  They talk of what their long-term aspirations are, forgetting that we all have rather a lot on our minds.  Some even forget who they’ve written to, and mention other radio stations in error along the way. They have ideas of their own talents way beyond their abilities; and demand we spend our time offering feedback.  I wish I had the courage of Cowell, and felt I could simply fire back an automated email suggesting that they’ll never make it – and they should really focus their energies on something else. Like singing, radio attracts so many who are convinced they can do it, but really cannot.  Great performers make it sound easy.
  

I recall one person we once took on for work experience who turned up at 1030 a.m.  When I gently suggested we turn up a little earlier , she explained she’d been out late so had only just got up.   I recall another journalist applicant who found it tough to suggest what key industry might exist in rural Lincolnshire, even when I asked her what she saw when she stared out the train window.

Syndicated emails sometimes plop into my Outlook from students asking me, effectively, to write their media exam answers for them.  I write back and ask them to formulate some genuine questions.  I rarely hear back.  And there are the eager mothers writing on behalf of their surly 17 year olds, asking for help in securing work experience or employment.  If I were a parent, I fear I’d stick my nose in and be just the same, but actually, the people we really want are the 17 year olds who have the initiative to get off their own backsides and quietly make their own overtures to us.

There are some great radio courses, run by people I respect deeply.  They are probably as frustrated as I am by the others in their field who appear out of touch.  Courses which specialise in talk radio, without a hint of education about the science of music radio, despite the fact that all but a handful of station amongst the UK’s many hundreds play, at least, some songs.  Instead, there are hours spent on coaching students how to build three-minute features on mice in windmills.  Even Radio 4 chooses only to play a ‘package’ on The Today Programme, when the line goes down and they get desperate.  Where is the coaching on how radio communicates; and how do you cajole a reluctant caller to going on-air and creating a truly astonishing piece of radio? Where is the coaching on language? Where is the coaching on business?  Are aspiring radio journalists coached sufficiently on how they sound? Do they step back to consider how much of their bulletin has been received – and remembered - by their audiences?  Judging by the robotic delivery we too frequently observe, maybe not.

I fear I may get political when I amplify my concerns that the UK spends billions on education, yet do we get a flood of quality applications when we advertise a job? Whether it be news, imaging, copy-writing/creative, social media, sales, manager, or software developer.  No.  Whilst we are often highly delighted with our eventual recruit who defies the trend, we do not always get the range of applicants we  expect  for such a truly great industry.  Why is it too that frighteningly intelligent people arrive, seemingly lacking the ability to write English to a decent standard.  I lacked the benefit of a university education, but whatever the nature of the Degree, should we not expect a vaguely acceptable standard of writing from one of the UK’s many graduates?  Not least because, increasingly and maybe perversely, radio demands that, with its ancillary online and social media channels.

The range of jobs in radio is often misunderstood.  Beyond ‘being a jock’ or ‘working in the newsroom’, the wealth of opportunity is ignored.  Which radio station would not bend over backwards to a bright personable, hard-working, persuasive individual, interested in radio, saying ‘I’d like a career in radio sales’?  Maybe it’s that old British thing which looks down on ‘sales’ as some dirty job.  That’s why this country invents great things and never quite extracts their value. ‘Sales’ is a dirty word at a dinner party.  We’ve all met bad salespeople in our general lives in all fields - and we’ve met truly great ones.  Is it just not 'British' to aspire to be UK radio’s best sales person?  Combine, also, sales with programming: devising and selling great promotions and sponsorship is a wonderful job; but where are the applicants in our email boxes for those positions from people with a self-evident flair? What of creative writers to write great persuasive and award-winning radio ads?  Where are they educating the next generation to tackle such skills?

Because we are such a fascinating, enjoyable industry, at least some applicants defy the above and shine through.  I wonder if that’s true of other industries.

Check my site at www.davidlloydradio.com

Hello patients everywhere

Isn't it strange seeing people you haven't seen for thirty years? Not least when, with some folk, you feel able just to pick up where you left off. 

Last weekend, on that misty Saturday night, a throng of us congregated in the splendid surroundings of Nottingham's Wollaton Hall.  We'd last met at hospital radio: for many of us, that was decades ago.  Since then, some of us had blagged our way into professional broadcasting; others had taken a more sensible course in life.

Routes into radio are as different as the people who work within it.  Some  drink up their experience from student radio, others simply apply for a transfer from being a showbiz name. In the mid '70s, commercial radio was fuelled by those from the biscuit factory radio, UBN.

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A few individuals have been in radio so long they have forgotten quite how they got in; and others moan so much they really should look for the door marked exit.  

For many of my generation, hospital radio was the trunk road to a career in the medium.  Nottingham enjoyed a well-respected hospital radio station, launched in the 70s when even commercial radio had yet to begin in Robin's City.   

I was turned away from NHR's dusty, pre-fab building for being too young, but battled through, aged 16, to win my blue Dymo membership badge at last.  Nottingham Hospitals Radio was frighteningly well-managed, with a clear focus on its audience.  Like so many of that generation, it was in hospital radio that I learnt the rudiments.  Just maybe the number of professional stations across the UK is now so large that broadcasters can speed their way to huge FM transmitters without sufficient probationary benefit.

A Saturday afternoon NHR programme from 1982

As so many in radio, I began on-air with a very high voice.  Thankfully, my first ever show on

17th December 1977 is lost on some crumbling 1/4" tape somewhere, although I do recall 'Underneath The Arches' from a warped Flanagan and Allen LP was my first song, which tells a little of how well-targeted the station genuinely was.  Mark Woodhouse tech-opped, which stood him in good stead for his own technical future. Cheers, Mark. Goodbye  to see you again. Anyone born at our station  knew about preparation, pre-fading and PPM levels.

Rather too many hospital stations appear to target their disc jockeys rather than their audience, which must be a little annoying for those who donate monies to keep the stations alive. Yes, hospital radio can have been a great training ground, but that is not the reason for its existence.  Ours had mandatory ward visiting  with summary execution for those who missed it more than once.  Wisely so.  My 93 year old dad's just out of hospital and, on boring days there, he would have killed to have someone stop by his bedside for a natter. It means more than you'll ever know. 

In the late 70s, when commercial radio was being called upon to be more meaningful, 'hospital radio link ups' were hurriedly organised.  I was duly asked by Trent if I'd supply some ward interviews.  Desperate  for a professional break, I duly obliged; and dragged a heavy Uher round disinfected wards. A generation will recall the Uher tape recorder, possibly by the affliction of a lop-sided walk in adult life, given it weighed as much as a large Christmas turkey.  I was despatched to the maternity wards and, as an shy, innocent youth,  learnt more there about the female body than I had hitherto.

In the studio, our equipment was sufficient.  Sonifex cart machines with a loud click played out our stolen poorly-edited jingles, armed with black AA2 carts, which our younger members dutifully re-laced with lubricated tape.  A few battered Ferrograph tape machines with an editing block nailed near the heads were reserved for editing; and a swish new Revox played out the evening's recorded shows.  Sig tunes for each show, which were compulsory given this was the 70s, were kept on 5" spools. Yellow leader at the front red at the rear. Turntables were slow to start, so each had a felt slip mat which one gripped until the required moment. Release the fingers; and lo, the Dooleys.

Early lessons were learned about the importance of vocabulary.  'Listeners' were referred to as just that on-air, never 'patients'.  The hope was that our pirated jingles and spotty, adolescent presenters playing The Old Rugged Cross meant that they might forget the major surgery the following day. 
Radio Trent feature on NHR 1977

We received a crash course on how radio is a one-to-one medium; not least because, on lucky days, we did indeed amass that single listener. Alas, too many on-air professionally nowadays forget the power of the singular 'you' and suggest that 'any of you  out there' keep your 'texts coming in'. It's a basic rule of radio broken by too many, too often.

Note the light switch (mic live light!)

An early duty for me was the programme for the long-stay geriatric hospitals. One popular feature within was the 'birthday list': "Hello Agnes, happy 93rd birthday. Here's George Formby - and the one entitled...". We'd run down the shiny tiled corridors to conduct a last minute check that all was well with dear Agnes's health just minutes before the show; on the pretext of delivering a branded Christmas card.

The Nottingham  station, run by the towering Barrie 'James' Pierpoint, was strong on PR.  Upon its birthday, a team of typists would compose neat letters on the Golf-ball typewriter to professional stations, requesting 'anniversary greetings'.  May I now concede that it was actually a ruse to get stereo copies of their jingles.  Now, though, those messages have become a lucky piece of radio history.

Friends, it was good to see you again. Including those who should have gone into radio but sadly didn't.  

More hospital radio memories - and other fond recollections - in my book 'Radio Moments'


More hospital radio discussion on blog post:  'Why Do We Bother With Hospital Radio?'