Jeff Wilder's Soapbox

www.billboard.com/articles/columns/the-juice/5915608/notice-to-black-artists-behind-rbs-struggle-at-radio-the-letter?page=0%2C1

What happened to radio? It's not related to downloading or the rise of Pandora or Internet Radio or any of that. No, where we're at right now is the result of a process that began 18 years ago.

In 1996, President Clinton signed into law the Telecommunications Act. This law, which didn't attract much notice from the general public at the time, pretty much removed any limits on how many stations the major conglomerates could own.

This was the Hiroshima/Nagasaki of radio.

Like vultures on a feeding frenzy, the conglomerates swooped in. Mass mergers and consolidations ensued. Many stations that once managed to offer a wide variety of music, that managed to be independent and profitable simultaneously, were either gobbled up into the corporate infrastructure or driven totally out of business.

It was no coincidence that four years after the passage of the Telecommunications Act Napster began. And it was no coincidence that the major labels immediately began screaming about it. And it was even less of a coincidence that many independent artists were pro downloading while many major label artists were opposed.

Downloading was the way those independent artists were going to be heard since it was hard if not close to impossible to get their music on the radio nowadays. Meanwhile, the major label artists were terrified of the possibility that they might have to settle for BMWs instead of Mercedes Benzes.

But why in the corporate infrastructure is it so hard for underground artists to be heard? In the early to mid 1990s, it wasn't uncommon to hear Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Green Day on AOR radio.

From 1993 through 1997 I served as a DJ at my high school's alternative rock station. We played well-known acts like the aforementioned Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Green Day. But we also played underground artists too. Punk, Ska, Industrial, Electronic, Portishead, Massive Attack and many local bands as well. There was a show for hip-hop and R&B and its hosts tried to play stuff that the mainstream Urban stations wouldn't play. And we tried to play them with less repetition than the mainstream stations play what they play. In that era, it was a true alternative for people who wanted something other than a steady diet of Michael Bolton, Celine Dion and Hootie And The Blowfish.

When two of the other local rock stations started playing more popular alternative artists, we moved further underground. 

Today, that station is still broadcasting even with many obstacles. The corporate owned stations have totally changed formats. One went to playing 80s pop, then dance music, then hip-hop, then Latin, then pop again then back to hip-hop. The other switched to a more "active rock" format (IE: a target audience of teen and young adult males who like both Nirvana and Led Zeppelin), then became a Latin station in 2004 and still was last time I listened.

As of right now, my old high school's station is the only station in South Florida that plays current rock on a regular basis. 

Last year I returned to my alma mater's radio station to host a show with some fellow alumni. 

One day after the show had ended, we were standing around discussing the state and direction of radio One of us made the observation that the primary reason why there are so many Top 40 stations and a few niche market ones (most notably Country) is because that's the only format that makes money nowadays.

On the R&B side (which is what the article linked above is about), I strongly suspect that many people up top would prefer to ghettoize (pun not intended sadly) the more R&B style artists as opposed to the more Pop R&B artists. They figure stuff like Timberlake, Chris Brown, Katy Perry etc will sell more in the midwest so they push it.

There are actually two R&B stations in the local area where I live. One combines the old and the new (it's not uncommon to hear both Usher and Marvin Gaye on it). One is reluctant to play anything older than the late 80s. Both will play a John Legend or Mary J Blige song when the mood strikes them. Yet both seem more interested in the most popular acts. This is one of the most likely reasons for why the likes of Blige, Legend, Anthony Hamilton, India Arie, Jill Scott and Kelly Price sell very well to a niche audience. But have yet to truly break out. 

The best thing that could happen would be a true independent station that could target the rock, hip-hop and r&b audiences that want something other than mainstream pablum.

Problem is, there are very few independent radio stations at this point. If there's anything to be angry at Bill Clinton for, it's for being complicit in the theft of the soul of radio.

On October 24 of last year i was reading a Facebook status by a close friend on their playlist of music which consisted mainly of 1993-97 music, the era we were in high school. At the time I was on break and listening to some classic Pearl Jam on my Ipod. After the final notes of "Nothingman" faded my set at random Ipod switched to Nine Inch Nails' "Wish". Once that ended the next song was the Wu-Tang Clan's "Can It Be All So Simple".

I got to thinking about the HS movie I scripted last year. Getting that movie made would be a trip back of sorts. Even thinking about it takes me back to that era. HS to me wasn't hell on earth the way it is for many people (although I never watched Buffy The Vampire Slayer its high school as the entrance to hell is accurate in many ways). But it also wasn't a time I would necessarily want to re-live aside from the high school radio station. I could see myself sitting around the radio station with friends discussing the movie.

It always seems in some ways that only a few people ever feel genuine nostalgia for high school. I remember walking in to school one morning in 1994 and hearing this girl talking. I knew her to be one of the more popular well-liked girls. I heard her talking to a friend and she said "I hate this school. This school and this town both suck". Like most teenagers, she felt like she was in the middle of nowhere. High school is a sort of boot camp everyone must go through. Complete with drill instructors who punish the whole class every time someone f****s up. It can be hell. But for most it's a character builder.

The teenage years can be among the most painful for anyone. But when many people look back, they tend to try to remember the fun stuff and forget the un-fun stuff. This was noted by a former teacher of mine not too long ago.

In hindsight I always felt that the 90s were a sort of cross between the lost generation 1920s and the inward looking 1970s. Unlike our parents those of us who grew up in the 90s didn't grow up in the shadow of Vietnam and unlike the following generation we didn't grow up in the shadow of war, terrorism, economic decay, reality TV and Infomercial culture and a society dominated by crass materialism. But there always seemed to be a sense that things could erupt in chaos at any moment. Indeed the attitude many seemed to have in that era was embrace the chaos. Enjoy it while you can. Parents and teachers often say that. But in that era it seemed true even without knowing what lay around the corner.

And of course one of the main things that kept us teenagers of the 90s going was the music. Yeah, the decade did start with New Kids On The Block and Milli Vanilli being considered legitimate musical acts and ended with the Backstreet Boys being thought of the same way and there was a large amount of crud throughout the decade (The Macarena, Barbie Girl). But the best of the era can stand with any era. There's something to the point about a lot of it. It doesn't get much more universal than "Here we are now, entertain us".

Lots of great rock, great rap, some pretty good R&B. Even some of the pop from that era sounds better than a lot of what passes for pop these days. Hell, Aerosmith had only just started to go downhill.

I guess my point here is that for those of us who grew up in the 90s, we had to do with what we had. Which is true for most generations in a way. Most of us turned out pretty good with a few exceptions here and there. Not the greatest generation no. But maybe the coolest. Or the Geek-Coolest.

Everyone knows how it feels to lose someone you love. I don't mean to death. I mean when you feel them slipping away and you wish there was something you could do about it. But you can't.

It can feel even worse when you sense you had an opportunity at happiness and you let it slip away. But because you truly love the person you must make the sacrifice.

Went through that feeling last year.

It was with a close friend who I'd found myself falling in love with.

We met 7 years ago when we worked together. I always felt she was a good friend, an attractive girl and lots of fun to be with.

At the time she was dating someone and I was in the midst of a love affair of my own (not a secret one though). That ended and she broke up with her boyfriend. At the time I contemplated asking her out. I decided not to for a few reasons,

One, it's not a good idea to date people you work with. Two, our job was about to be outsourced. Third and most significantly, I didn't want her to think I was looking to her as a fallback girl.

We were let go from our job in mid 2009. But we stayed in touch.

In April 2012 she told me about weekly kickball games she was having with friends at a local park. I decided to show up and did so. The games became a regular thing for a few months until they got rained out.

As we played i started to realize I was becoming interested in being more than friends. So now is the time I thought.

I then found out she'd started dating someone just recently, not long after we started playing in fact.. I met her new boyfriend, found him to be a nice guy and saw how happy she was with him. So much for my plan to ask her out.

So we kept on. But my feelings for her continued although I kept them to myself.

In January 2013 she announced that she was engaged. I immediately felt a ripping feeling: on one hand happiness for her, on the other pain that she was lost to me for good.

I immediately congratulated her and she thanked me. Inside I was screaming at myself for not asking her out the first time we played kickball.

That's what hurt the most: the sense that I'd had a chance at happiness and let it slip away. Of course, there's no guarantee she would have said yes to my request for a date and even if she had, there's no guarantee it would have worked out. But in some ways, this felt like a missed opportunity, in some ways worse than if we'd tried a romantic relationship and it hadn't worked out. On the other hand, it could also be said that a friendship can last forever and that romantic love can often end in the blink of an eye. Not to mention that if our romance failed it could easily have alienated me from her friends who I often play kickball with.

Quite a few of those friends knew my feelings for her and when I explained why I was doing what I was in that case they replied "Jeff that shows that you truly love her. You're willing to put her happiness ahead of yours".

They married in November of last year. I still talk to her and am glad she's happy. I moved on with my life. But I still find myself thinking of the ending of the movie Love And Basketball and fantasize every once in a while about playing her in a one-on-one kickball game for her heart.