Putting aside the talk about our frustrations with consolidation, absence of job security, and the diminishing lure of commercial radio, I’d like to ask this back to basics question:
Why do you like being on the air?
Whether you are an air personality on a music station, talk host, or production guy – currently working or not – what is it that draws you to this avocation?
I’ve often observed that people who have the greatest passion for something are often the least able to explain why they feel that way.
This spring I will have done radio in one role or another – air personality, PD, sales, production - for forty years (punctuated, of course by periods of unemployment).
I can honestly say that when I open the mic here in 2010, I get the same rush I did when I was 17 years old, spinnin’ the 45s at Buff State’s WSCB or at WWOL. The thrill is still there.
I can’t tell you why.
It might be the ring of on-air compression in the phones. It might be the satisfaction of a well-executed backsell or a brilliant (very occasionally) bit of schtick in 20 seconds. I’ve got economy of words down cold.
Maybe it’s a smokin’ piece of music slammed perfectly after an absolutely jammin’ jingle. (having taken the on-air software out of “auto” mode - lol)
I’m not embarrassed to say that I experience exhiliration when performing the now unfashionable skill of talkin’ up the vocal. I know the audience doesn’t care, but I’m being selfish.
I love to listen to an aircheck after a good day on the air and I’m still amazed to think “damn, that’s pretty good.”
Perhaps it’s been to my detriment, but I’ve never been successful as a “talk about the community” guy. Nor am I of today’s creed which says “you must share your everyday life with your listeners.” I have always felt much more at home as a presenter of music, and I believe this is a valid raison d’etre on the air – often undervalued in today’s radio. I love reading up on the artists whose music I’m playing and incorporating their stories into my on-air rap.
Shallow as it may seem, the simple desire to “sound great” has propelled me all these years. It does to this day.
When I’ve asked air personalities why they like being on the air, I’ve heard responses like “I really enjoy brightening a listener’s day” or “I know that something I say during my show can make a real difference in someone’s life.” Great – and more power to you guys because you’re probably right! I, however, claim no such altruism. I just enjoy the rush of sounding great. I’m more inspired by Dan Ingram than by Dr. Wayne Dyer.
I have no illusions. I haven’t been and will never be one of those big market, big numbers air personalities, and what motivates me is unlikely to push anyone into that stratosphere. Nevertheless, I’m a notch or 2 beyond the liner card guys, and believe I’ve always executed well in the formats I’ve worked. For me, that’s been enormously satisfying.
Today, my primary role is production, which brings, of course, another kind of professional satisfaction. But on those days when I fill in live for a vacationing air personality, I’m smackin’ the posts, I’m tellin’ stories about George Strait and Lady Antebellum, and I’m 17 again.
Nick Seneca
Why do you like being on the air?
Whether you are an air personality on a music station, talk host, or production guy – currently working or not – what is it that draws you to this avocation?
I’ve often observed that people who have the greatest passion for something are often the least able to explain why they feel that way.
This spring I will have done radio in one role or another – air personality, PD, sales, production - for forty years (punctuated, of course by periods of unemployment).
I can honestly say that when I open the mic here in 2010, I get the same rush I did when I was 17 years old, spinnin’ the 45s at Buff State’s WSCB or at WWOL. The thrill is still there.
I can’t tell you why.
It might be the ring of on-air compression in the phones. It might be the satisfaction of a well-executed backsell or a brilliant (very occasionally) bit of schtick in 20 seconds. I’ve got economy of words down cold.
Maybe it’s a smokin’ piece of music slammed perfectly after an absolutely jammin’ jingle. (having taken the on-air software out of “auto” mode - lol)
I’m not embarrassed to say that I experience exhiliration when performing the now unfashionable skill of talkin’ up the vocal. I know the audience doesn’t care, but I’m being selfish.
I love to listen to an aircheck after a good day on the air and I’m still amazed to think “damn, that’s pretty good.”
Perhaps it’s been to my detriment, but I’ve never been successful as a “talk about the community” guy. Nor am I of today’s creed which says “you must share your everyday life with your listeners.” I have always felt much more at home as a presenter of music, and I believe this is a valid raison d’etre on the air – often undervalued in today’s radio. I love reading up on the artists whose music I’m playing and incorporating their stories into my on-air rap.
Shallow as it may seem, the simple desire to “sound great” has propelled me all these years. It does to this day.
When I’ve asked air personalities why they like being on the air, I’ve heard responses like “I really enjoy brightening a listener’s day” or “I know that something I say during my show can make a real difference in someone’s life.” Great – and more power to you guys because you’re probably right! I, however, claim no such altruism. I just enjoy the rush of sounding great. I’m more inspired by Dan Ingram than by Dr. Wayne Dyer.
I have no illusions. I haven’t been and will never be one of those big market, big numbers air personalities, and what motivates me is unlikely to push anyone into that stratosphere. Nevertheless, I’m a notch or 2 beyond the liner card guys, and believe I’ve always executed well in the formats I’ve worked. For me, that’s been enormously satisfying.
Today, my primary role is production, which brings, of course, another kind of professional satisfaction. But on those days when I fill in live for a vacationing air personality, I’m smackin’ the posts, I’m tellin’ stories about George Strait and Lady Antebellum, and I’m 17 again.
Nick Seneca