I think I hear the radio
When I was at school I wanted to be a radio presenter, some say DJ. And, with the early 90s airwaves full of inane talking hairdos, there seemed no reason why I couldn’t do a much better job than Smashie and, indeed, Nicey. So, as a sixth-former, I began volunteering at a hospital radio station.
On my very first day the station director told me I would never have a chance in national radio because of my regional accent. I went home listening to some bloke called Mark Radcliffe presenting Out On Blue Six on my pocket radio and wondered how his Mancunian accent had slipped through the BBC Radio 1 net. I liked Mark, particularly the way he never talked over the records. I was all about the music. Which was why me and hospital radio didn’t work out.
I began as a “tech op”, editing tapes for news broadcasts, and then had a go at reading the news. Then, after a few months, I was given a chance to present the station’s regular “Dedication Line” show. The format had a couple of problems, not least of which was the fact that the station never ever received a single dedication. So, we were despatched to the wards to cajole patients and visitors into offering requests. Now the last thing you want if you’re an inpatient in a hospital is to be badgered by some charlie from a tinpot radio station, especially one you’ve never heard of and will never listen to.
Because on those visits one truth became crystal clear: No-one – not one single, solitary person outside the confines of our tiny studio – ever listened to the station. This fact was as soul-destroying as the narrow catalogue of easy listening tunes we were allowed to play. It seemed that every show would feature a made-up request from Doris on ward 9 for Nessun Dorma. And although you could occasionally throw in a Wichita Lineman or a bit of classic Motown, it was very difficult to remain enthusiastic. There is only so much Howard Keel a pair of lugs can take. I packed in hospital radio, and my dream of becoming a DJ ended.
Fifteen years later, radio has changed massively, both in content and in the way it’s delivered. For a start, digital has opened the airwaves to hundreds of new stations, not many of which are any good. Like the digital TV “revolution”, increased quantity has led to decreased quality. Regional accents are everywhere, and that’s a good thing, although it seems there are still too many Fearne Cottons being handed radio shows based on their profiles rather than their talent.
Mark Radcliffe is still around, on the “nations’s favourite” Radio 2 (having survived his ill-fated foray onto Radio 1), now co-presenting the excellent Radcliffe and Maconie show. It’s a show in which the music – not the presenter’s ego – is king, and its mostly hand-picked selection is refreshingly free of the dreaded and predictable programmer’s playlist which dogs much of the station’s daytime output.
Over on 5 Live, the BBC has the nation’s best talk radio station, although it’s about to get a major shake-up. Simon Mayo, probably the best broadcaster in the country, is moving to Radio 2, ahead of 5 Live’s relocation to Manchester (although thankfully Mayo’s always-entertaining Friday afternoon movie chat with Mark Kermode will remain, presumably being broadcast from London). Danny Baker, another top-class radio broadcaster is also likely to leave 5 Live when it relocates. Most likely I’ll stop listening to 5 Live too.
My radio listening has decreased since the arrival of Spotify. But the big problem with Spotify, despite it’s undeniable greatness, is that there is so much music available it can sometimes be difficult to choose what to listen to.
When I do listen to radio shows it tends to be on demand via the iPlayer. Podcasts also eat into my radio listening, with Collings and Herrin and The Word being current favourites.
Much of the rest of the time I listen to Last.fm, a personal radio station that probably best represents what the future of radio is going to sound like. Last.fm builds up personal playlists based on what you listen to, and the results, once you’ve built up a decent profile, are remarkably satisfying.
So what does the future hold? Personalised stations with personalised presenters? Your favourite tracks and new recommendations introduced by a virtual John Peel? There still has to be a place for the radio presenter, as a guide or an entertainer, as company as you trawl through the megahertz.
Like other forms of media, radio is going to continue to evolve in the 2010s. For the time being I’m still going to listen to Radcliffe and Maconie, albeit on the iPlayer, streamed wirelessly via my laptop. There will always be a place for the radio presenter, some say DJ, wherever technology takes us.
