Some Thoughts About the Importance of Radio Past and Present

As I’ve been asked to perform at WMBT’s first anniversary celebration, I thought I might say a few words about how important radio has been to my life.

Radio is a relatively new invention. The first commercial radio broadcast went out on KDKA Radio in Pittsburgh a little over 100 years ago, covering the presidential election in which Warren Harding defeated James Cox. Women had only recently been given the right to vote.

That seems like ancient history, but barely 45 years later I listened to that same KDKA and other AM stations even further east (like WBZ in Boston) when atmospheric conditions permitted reception far away in northern Illinois. 1965 was the height of the British Invasion, I was just learning to play guitar, and I loved hearing unknown songs (Chicago stations had their own playlists) from the likes of Billy J. Kramer, the Animals, Manfred Mann, or, best of all, the Who, beamed in by magic from a distant, exotic world.

Chicago’s WCFL was my favorite local station, far superior to its rival WLS, both for its format and for serving as the flagship of Dick Orkin’s syndicated episodes of Chicken Man. I had no idea at that time that I would later become a writer and producer of jingles and (hopefully humorous) radio ads, and, indeed, even a short-lived Chicken Man knock off called (of course) Gator Man (the writer was an amazing impressionist who did a great Jack Nicholson and spot on takes of both Edith and Archie Bunker).

No doubt Dick Orkin, who in addition to Chicken Man produced hundreds of hilarious radio ads, warped my larval brain permanently. But so did the music of the era. I can remember the exact moment I first heard Day Tripper (in the backseat of the car at night, my Mom driving through Chicago back from my sister’s) or the mind-boggling Purple Haze (a few years later, when Jimi cut through the din of a concession stand at Cedar Lake on a hot summer afternoon).

Somewhere around the end of the 60s or early 70s, AM started losing ground to the superior fidelity (and freaking STEREO!) of FM radio. The early days of FM, at least in suburban Chicago, were refreshingly loose in format, if not downright bizarre at times. The AM radio tyranny of singles limited to 2:30 length, with the DJ babbling like a speed freak over the intro and outro, disappeared, replaced by album sides played in their entirety, calmly (even lethargically) introduced by the most laid back and resonant of all possible voices.

In 1972 I moved to Columbus, Ohio, and discovered WCOL-FM. WCOL-AM was the cash cow, chock full of the standard patter and commerce, but the FM station delivered wonderful, deep programming, often bypassing the single for the deeper cut, or the “radio edit” for the longer, more interesting album version (e.g., Free’s All Right Now). I heard and fell in love with 10cc (Wall Street Shuffle), Todd Rundgren (Couldn’t I Just Tell You?), Chestnut Mare by the Byrds, Montana by Zappa, Desperado by the Eagles… all influences that I don’t think I would have heard otherwise. WCOL is now a country station, but remained one of the last hold-outs for resisting corporate playlists dictated from afar in favor of local decision making.

RADIO IN GAINESVILLE

At the end of 1976, I relocated to Gainesville, Florida, where the dominant station was WGVL (now Kiss 105). But I quickly discovered a forgotten treasure, Gainesville’s Underground Pipeline. The odd concept of “cable radio,” a subscription available for an extra $1 per month added to your cable TV bill and connected to an FM receiver. Started by an unhappy WGVL DJ, the pipeline was beholden to subscribers rather than advertisers, and thus the programming was eclectic and fabulous. Let’s just say that one of their jocks went by the nom de plume of “Twist Roper,” and that my occasional visit to their home-converted-to-an-office/studio somewhere off Archer Road often led to a few interesting diversions.

I suspect the Pipeline’s financing was never on very solid ground (despite an investment from Phil Proctor and Peter Bergman of Firesign Theater fame), and thus destined for one more installment of radio frustration.

In the early 80s the University of Florida upped their radio game, launching both an NPR affiliated station (WUFT) and an FM rock station (Rock 104). Meanwhile, Kiss 105 mostly played rock, and was kind enough to give some solid airplay to the album my band TranceForm released in 1981 (one song even won some kind of “play off” contest against a national artist).

But that kind of treatment of locals was far from the norm, and airplay for local musicians was almost nonexistent (I think the Archer Road Band got some spins). The university’s NPR station began as an all-classical format, and the idea of a “college radio station” (a very influential genre playing a wide variety of formats, including a lot of punk rock) was at least discouraged if not actively suppressed. Over the next couple of decades, WUFT developed some jazz programming and slowly incorporated more of the standard NPR news/talk format (Fresh Air, This American Life, Car Talk, et al), and relegated classical music to a different frequency. Through the valiant efforts of staff members like Bill Beckett and Margi Hatch and volunteers like Cathy DeWitt and Kristen Wanner, there were shows (The Caravan, On the Bridge, Across the Prairie) there were forays into more adventurous programming, sometimes (with Kristen and Cathy) with strong support of local music.

Sadly, the current management of WUFT has little to no interest in either local music or music programming of any sort, apart from syndicated national interviews and features that are part of other news/talk shows. One by one, every music show that aired on WUFT has disappeared with no replacement.

In the late 80s, I produced (in cahoots with staff member Robert Wideman) a weekly hour long show for Rock 104 that exclusively featured local musicians. I did that for maybe four years. But it took hours to record and edit, I was working 80 hours a week at Mirror Image Studios, and I received no compensation, so I sadly burned out.

Another hope arose when, in 1993-1998, a 5,000 watt local station, WRRX, reinvented itself as 97X and started a buzz over its quality programming. I recall attending support and planning meetings that were well attended, and the station drew a loyal following. But, alas, the station license suddenly grew exponentially more valuable when its signal was upgraded to 50,000 watts. The owner cashed out, the station was sold, and we lost great music to the likes of Rush Limbaugh and Michael Savage. (Arguably the worst format change in the history of music, but I suspect in the world of corporate takeovers it’s a familiar story.)

A decade later, another welcome development, when Grow Radio emerged in 2009 as a low power, eclectic format, local friendly option, and has maintained a small but loyal following (through the efforts of its unpaid volunteers, who care passionately about music). Thirteen years later, Grow is thankfully still active, but only in podcast format (no more broadcasting or live streaming).

ENTER THE WOMBAT

This is the point in the narrative where typically the grumpy old man complains about how things ain’t like they were in the good old days.

BUT… enter WMBT-FM, 90.1, aka “The Wombat.” This is a passion project funded by a few civic-minded businesses (Wayne Irwin’s Pure Energy Solar, Satchel’s Pizza, Audiology, First Magnitude Brewing Company, and Analogix). The format is delightfully surprising (jazz, the Muppets, classic rock, and genres old guys can’t name) and, best of all, very local musician oriented. It reminds me of the early days of FM, minus the laid back DJ (very little DJ presence—just music). Best of all, it restores me with hope that great radio is not just a memory but a meaningful part of the quality of everyday life.

I invite all who love music, and local music in particular, to step up and support this station… lest we see the pattern repeat itself, and lose another gem. You can donate here: https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=7S2PH8UHU3FR6.

I don’t think I fully realized what a profound force for good radio has been in my life till I put these thoughts together. Thanks, Wombat!

So… after 45 years of producing thousands of songs for thousands of artists, I’ve released a solo record that took a couple years to do, working mostly alone in my studio. Making music is its own reward and I love every part of it. But of course I’d love to hear the reaction of fresh ears. Click READ MORE to see or leave comments. Thanks.