BY RICHARD PACHTER
rap@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
of the Dial: The Rise of Clear Channel and the Fall of Commercial
Radio. Alec Foege. Faber and Faber. 320 pages.
The name ''Clear Channel'' became shorthand for everything wrong with
terrestrial (nonsatellite) radio: Lack of diversity, repetitious music,
boring programming, too many commercials, censorship, jingoism, ad
nauseam.
In a previous life, I was very familiar with radio, first as a record
promotion man and later as a marketing executive at a trade publication
for
radio managers. Initially, I encountered a variety of stations, mostly
independently owned or part of small chains. Few companies held more than
a
handful of stations, due mainly to the limitations imposed by federal law.
But that all changed with the Telecommunications Act of 1996, which lifted
most limits for corporate acquisition of broadcast properties and allowed
ownership of multiple stations in a single market. In the industry, the
resulting change was called ``consolidation.''
Writer Alec Foege's interest in the subject of radio in general and Clear
Channel in particular was piqued when he became aware of the uniformity of
radio stations' programming during a longish family car trip. He wanted to
know why the music was so bland and over-familiar.
He begins with a brief history of Top 40 radio, the company that later
became Clear Channel, and its founder, Texan Lowry Mays. He knew nothing
about the broadcasting business, according to Foege, but was a shrewd and
opportunistic businessman who viewed radio as a unique industry with
unparalleled potential for growth.
As the story continues, Mays builds his business and is poised to take
advantage of the sweeping pro-business trend toward deregulation.
Acquiring
numerous stations, he seeks efficiencies by eliminating various
redundancies. Among them were physical facilities, so Foege writes about
how, in markets where the company owned several stations (as in South
Florida), all are based in a single building, sharing a common management
team as well as administrative and engineering staff.
But the downside became apparent as the cost cutting continued. Indeed,
the
company's nickname of ''Cheap Channel'' was earned by their elimination of
incumbent talent and the promotion of lower-paid employees. At the same
time, through automation and other tools, live local announcers were
replaced by pre-recorded programming or ''voice tracking,'' with the
on-air
content for a multitude of stations originating in a remote studio from a
single announcer. The same voice and personality hosts a show in Orlando,
for example, yet she's really sitting in a studio in San Antonio or Omaha.
And the local news component of most Clear Channel stations had also been
reduced or eliminated, with several striking examples of the absence of
reporting during local disasters cited in the book.
Foege also writes about other issues, such as the company's corporate
culture, with the controversial practices and behavior of managers,
including Randy Michaels, who came into the fold as a result of Clear
Channel's purchase of the Jacor chain (owned by Sam Zell, who bought the
Tribune Co. last year).
This book covers a lot of ground, including the company's politics, which
are more expedient than ideological, according to Foege. But ultimately,
media consolidation has been a disappointment, as evidenced by AOL Time
Warner and other failed mega-mergers. Clear Channel is already starting to
dissemble, though as a result of this exercise, the vitality of radio as a
local medium will likely never return. Right of the Dial explains how this
precious cultural and economic institution was exploited and destroyed.
To receive business book reviews by e-mail or join the Business Monday
Book
Club, e-mail Richard Pachter at rap@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
To read more of
Pachter's musings, go to www.reviewrap.blogspot.com or read his weekly
personal finance blog at www.moli.com/p/moliview/3/category.
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