🔥Twelve Ways a Radio Show Quietly Sets Itself on Fire🔥

I cover in Planet Reynolds the strategic chess moves personality shows must make to win images, audience loyalty, and ratings.  But let’s flip that board.

Here are twelve ways a tenured show can slowly get itself into trouble.  This won’t happen overnight.  A dramatic ratings collapse won’t happen.  But inch-by-inch violate enough of these, and you’ll be coasting.  Because smart competitors love strategic confusion, you’ll also be quietly building a launchpad for one of them to steal your audience.

Time for an unapologetic inventory:

  1. Neither the show nor the cast hold a distinct point-of-view. Great shows stand for something.  Winning personality radio ain’t wallpaper.  It’s opinionated, it leans, it chooses.  A show or cast without a point-of-view becomes audio oatmeal – emotionally forgettable.  Listeners bond with conviction.
  2. There is poor role and character definition. If everyone is everything, no one is anything.  Sharp shows have a defined cast.  Think Howard Stern.  He’s the gravitational center.  Robin is the counterbalance.  The supporting cast fills in the blanks.  No roles on that show are blurred.  Whether a large ensemble or just two people, if you can’t share your real life and defend your angle honestly, you become an actor in a play no one wants to see.
  3. The show fails to capture the moment for content choices for the demo. Great shows seize cultural lightening.  They know what the audience is talking about today, not last week.  They then stamp it with their own personality.  They don’t wait for a prep service to tell them what mattered yesterday – they are always on the right edge of what’s happening now.  Relevance has a half-life.  Miss it and you’re left doing something that might have expired.
  4. The show loses touch with its constituency. Your audience is a tribe and you’re in it.  Listeners can easily forgive an idea that doesn’t work, but they won’t forgive feeling unseen.  Make them always say, “we get you.”
  5. The show does not innovate. Success has a seductive lullaby.  The ratings are fine, TSL is steady, the cume isn’t eroding.  So, you end up doing what you did five years ago.  Yikes.  Audiences evolve, attention fragments, and you don’t operate in a vacuum.  Innovation means sharpening your show.  Adding new segments and ideas bats back stagnation.
  6. C-level ideas turn P1s into P2s (or don’t turn P2s into P1s). This is death by mediocrity.  Bland, C-level ideas, never inspire.  They just go unnoticed.  Create appointment listening by not doing things that end up being background noise.
  7. The show becomes unfunny or un-fun. Don’t let your show leak its joy.  Listeners tune in to escape the seriousness of life, companionship, and to be around something that wakes them up.  Laughter and fun are the one thing that binds every psychographic in your audience.
  8. There is no “cume urgency” in what they’re doing. Why should the audience tune in right now?  If there is no reason to show up in this quarter hour, you’re training the audience to go elsewhere.  You must have “don’t miss this” built into your show.  If the show lends the vibe of “safely later”, it will be consumed later.  Or never if that’s what is found elsewhere.
  9. There is a loss of motivation and work ethic. Tenure, for some, can breed entitlement.  Prep shrinks, risk-taking fades, and meetings become shorter.  “We’ve arrived so no additional work is necessary” becomes the mantra.  The audience knows if you’ve prepped for them.  They can also hear autopilot.  I love when I’m across the street against this with a truly hungry show.  Comfortable = vulnerable.
  10. Egocentricity.  Don’t become obsessed with yourself, believing you’re the sun to the audience’s universe.  The audience must always be central to what you do.  Flip that equation and they will slowly check out.
  11. The program becomes predictable. Routine builds familiarity.  But predictability breeds boredom.  Don’t let tension disappear by being so predictable that there are no surprises in the show.  For all its faults, even SNL is constantly refreshing the cast, its angles, new segments and characters, and fresh executions.  Predictability is comfortable.  But comfort is not a growth strategy.
  12. They are not involved in the community. When you and your show are absent from community events and grassroots touchpoints, you weaken the emotional connection you built.  Make your presence be known by being everywhere.  Embed yourself into your city, even if you’re syndicated.  That will pay off with more content, more connections, and allow you to present more humanity to your audience.

Time to take an assessment.  You won’t necessarily lose an audience for violating one of these.  Or even three.  But every unchecked weakness opens a door.  Be soft without realizing it and a strategic competitor could eventually rise up.

So, take an inventory.  Or better, have your show do it and, if you’re a program director you do it, too.  I’ve created a grade sheet here if it helps.  Then compare notes for an honest conversation about the show so you stay sharp.

Because sharpness isn’t by accident.  It’s by disciple.

Whoopi Walked In and the Audience Walked Out: Why Fame Isn’t the Same as Fit

WKTU, New York just celebrated a milestone 30th birthday in the format.  You may not remember, but part of that history included having Whoopi Goldberg as its morning host.  When I listened back then, it was one of the most confusing radio shows I’d ever heard.  As fate would have it, I met Jim Ryan, who put Whoopi on the brand.  I mentioned I never understood the show, which did not work.  Over the years, Jim and I have talked about this.  I turn Planet Reynolds over to him this week for this excellent analysis explaining why and what’s to learn from that.  This article first appeared in the terrific Barrett Media.  I found it incredibly interesting, so I asked Jim to share it here, too.

What’s your brand?

Very often, the best lessons come from situations that didn’t work out as planned. Twenty years ago, while I was at Clear Channel (now iHeart), we believed talent was the key to making radio a meaningful companion. At the time, Elvis Duran was dominating in New York and expanding into other markets, while Delilah was a staple on our AC stations. Sean Compton, who was handling talent acquisition, wanted a household name for female-targeted morning radio. The decision was made to sign Whoopi Goldberg.

We launched the show with great fanfare across major affiliates like New York, Chicago, San Francisco, and Philadelphia. Whoopi was a rare EGOT (Emmy-Grammy-Oscar-Tony) winner; it seemed logical that an award-winning household name would be a hit in morning drive.

However, a disconnect emerged. While Whoopi had a storied career, including her acclaimed role in The Color Purple, much of the radio audience expected to wake up with the comedian they loved in Sister Act. Her vision for the show was more aligned with what she does today on The View. Sitting in the studio most mornings, I saw firsthand the audience wasn’t expecting that direction. Despite the great interviews and funny moments, the show struggled. We learned that in a nine-minute listening occasion, you must be true to your brand. The constant listener calls referencing Sister Act were a reminder that while Whoopi was incredibly talented, that alone wasn’t enough to deliver the expected ratings success.

Regardless of the show you produce, you must ask: “What is the listener’s expectation?” and “What is my brand?” Just as you wouldn’t expect Stephen A. Smith to host love songs or Delilah to act like a shock jock, every successful personality has a defined brand that sets a clear expectation for the audience.

What is your brand? What is the basic plot of your show? If you are part of an ensemble, what is your specific role? Once you answer these, you must run all content through that filter. If you are a “funny” or “feel-good” show, certain topics like politics might be off the table. Conversely, shows like The Breakfast Club thrive on strong opinions. Another example was Mike and the Mad Dog who launched WFAN as the first sports station in America; the show’s success relied on the specific conflict between Mike and Chris. They knew their roles and fulfilled listener expectations every day. Howard Stern, once a “shock jock”, has enhanced his brand to become one of the greatest interviewers in media today. But he uses that brand to be able to ask the questions that nobody else dares to. And gets away with it.

I have worked with many shows where the personalities are unsure of their roles or their on-air relationships. In successful long-running television shows, the audience knows exactly how each character will react. From I Love Lucy to Seinfeld to Everybody Loves Raymond, character friction drives the content.

If you are part of an ensemble or overseeing one, take a minute to ensure each character is clearly defined. Over time, co-hosts can adopt similar mannerisms or opinions, and a re-evaluation becomes necessary. If the friction between characters disappears, so does the drama and the show becomes boring. Long-running shows like Elvis Duran, Dave Ryan, and Mojo have successfully changed co-hosts to stay relevant. The late Kidd Kraddick was so obsessed with show evolution that his program has remained at the top of the ratings for years even after his passing.

Radio shows are only on the air for 20 hours a week, but a strong brand stays with listeners long after they tune out. People think about Howard Stern, Charlamagne tha God, Delilah, and Elvis Duran well beyond their broadcast times.

So, what’s your brand?

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The Power of Paying Attention – Steve’s Grocery Store Screw-Up Just to Write This Blog

Last week, I was sent to the grocery store.  My partner is the cook in our relationship, and he directed me to get peeled tomatoes for a recipe.  I dutifully drove to the Harris Teeter and found them in aisle five.  Ah, success!  But then dread and dark clouds hovered over.  Did he want the tomatoes with basil?  The ones with oregano and garlic?  Plain?  The ones already chopped or whole?  Did he want the Hunts or Contadina brand, or could I buy the less expensive Harris Teeter brand, which was on sale?

So many decisions.  I froze in fear of choosing incorrectly, as I have often done, arriving home and again getting “the look” that “you got the wrong ones.”  So, I did the smart thing and FaceTimed him for the right answers.  I didn’t feel so bad because when I was heading to the checkout, another guy was holding his phone up to a Teeter employee and said, “My wife wants me to buy these.  Can you bring me to them.”  Ah, another spouse anticipating that he’ll get the wrong thing, too.

I have a disease called Permanent Content Brain.  The phrase was coined by podcaster Pablo Torre who admits, as do I, that everything I see I wonder how it can be content on a show.  I am reminded of talent who go about their lives and never see the power of this kinda stuff to help them be relatable or use it to create fun stories the audience identifies with.  So many say “nothing happened to me yesterday” yet when I dig deep and get inquisitive, so much content appears.  They didn’t see it because they weren’t paying attention.

So, I wonder how we get more of these shared experiences on a show to connect with fans.  Here are a few things to consider:

  • Stop looking for a story and notice the friction in everything you do. It wasn’t about my going to the grocery store as much as it was about fearing “the look” and bold move to FaceTime so it wasn’t another Epic Steve Fail®.  Where you get uncomfortable, irritated, or feel awkward is the story.  Great radio doesn’t come from what happened, it comes from what felt off.
  • Pick a side and use bold language. Mushy middle breaks or ones that express all points-of-view die quickly.  Fake opinion for neutrality is death, too.  Great radio lives on the margins.  Hate/love are much better than like.  Powerful verbiage activates listeners.  Examples: “self-checkout is a scam,” or “if you’re paying for groceries with a check, you must be over 80,” or “the cart return thing is really a character test some people fail.”  It’s near impossible for a listener to not have an emotional reaction to any of those frames.  Using language like this includes the audience from the start.
  • Get to it with a powerful hook at the start. “I had to FaceTime my partner from the canned tomato aisle, so I didn’t come home feeling like an idiot again” is a great way to make listeners lean in to hear the story.
  • You must pivot from it being about you to being about the audience. Do that and you’ll get similar content from them which will be entertaining for all to hear.  Actively think of this line, “Is it just me or…” and you might have a content break.  The mistake many make is that it’s just about them – make it about the audience and the connection forms as stories from everyone appear.
  • When asking the audience to advance your content with their stories, never ask “what do you think” or “has this happened to you”. Be specific: “your spouse sent you to the grocery store and you were once again a disappointment in the task – tell us what happened.”  Specific questions get better calls and listener engagement.  Never ask yes/no or agree/disagree questions.  If your reply to them is “why” or “tell us more” you’ll go on a fishing expedition for their content and get little.  Be specific and they’ll have stories with lots of details.

If you can do everyday things like go to the grocery store and pay attention to see the friction, get an opinion, and look for relatability, you’re guaranteed to leave with content.

The next time you go somewhere, don’t rush or do it mindlessly.  Pay attention and note three things that annoy you, give you judgment on something, force an opinion, or make you experience an emotion yourself.  One of them might be content the next day.

Then you’ll never say again that “nothing happened today”.

You must notice everything to develop Permanent Content Brain.  A great disease to have if you are a content creator.  I put together a checklist to train your brain to get there.  Grab it here if you think it’ll help.

Friction Hooks Fans – A Better Way to Build Character Connections (Heated Rivalry Edition)

You’ll come for the sex; you’ll stay for the story.

Heated Rivalry is the “it” show now – lots of buzz.  It’s on everyone’s timeline and seemingly inescapable in conversation.  Why is it resonating and what’s to learn from that?

Heated Rivalry does the one thing at its core every show must do to shift people from being listeners to becoming fans:  they make us care about the characters.  Think of any show or movie that moved you – that connected with you that you still rave about – and note that the screenwriter and story made you care about the people in it.  Think of who you hang with in your personal life; those you know and those you care about.  You must do the same with your show to create that loyalty with listeners.

Heated Rivalry works because conflict is the engine.  The characters are rich and deep and human and flawed and very different from each other.  That contrast creates a powerful storyline.

Here’s proof that conflict is the oxygen of storytelling.  Heated Rivalry doesn’t succeed because everything goes right. It succeeds because almost nothing does.  The story draws us in because there’s lots of drama.  If your story is boring, it’s because drama doesn’t exist.

At its core, Heated Rivalry is built on opposition. Two very different elite competitors locked in a long-term clash where winning isn’t just about the scoreboard.  It’s about pride, identity, ego, and the quiet fear of being seen as less than the other.  That tension never fully resolves, and that’s the point. Resolution ends the story.  Friction keeps it breathing.

The show’s most effective tension point is the collision between public personas and private truth. On the surface, these characters are confident, dominant, and unyielding. Underneath, they’re insecure, guarded, and hungry for validation and connection. One is Russian, the other Canadian – and the stereotypes that come with each.  Every scene’s bravado cracks just a little which pulls us closer to the characters and storyline. We recognize that feeling because we live there, too.

Another smart pressure point is proximity without permission. The characters are forced together by circumstance. Same arenas. Same headlines. Same orbit. They don’t choose connection; it keeps choosing them. That creates emotional whiplash: attraction colliding with resentment, admiration tangled with jealousy. Viewers aren’t watching to see if something will happen, but how long they can resist it and what it will cost them when they stop.

Sometimes the tension is big – Shane’s been texting Ilya for six months and been ghosted.  The anger and hurt feelings are both relatable and palatable.  And sometimes it’s small – Shane introduces himself to Ilya at the top of episode one.  They’re two premiere athletes and one of them is secretly smoking cigarettes.

Emotionally, the show plays a rich chord progression.  Competition lights the spark, anger sharpens it, vulnerability deepens it, and fear threatens to extinguish it.

We care because the stakes are high – we root for Ilya and Shane because we want people to root for us. That’s why vulnerability is so powerful in life and radio – we want the audience to care and root for us, too – and they want to know that we care for and root for them.  You must do that with your content to win.  Because if your content is friction free – if it has no drama – you ain’t got nothing.

Heated Rivalry understands something many shows miss:  likability is optional, but emotional honesty is not. The characters are often difficult. They make selfish choices. They hurt each other. Yet the show earns our loyalty by letting us see why.  We’re not asked to excuse their behavior, only to understand it.

Conflict creates curiosity.  Tension creates attachment.  Emotion creates memory.

That’s the lesson Heated Rivalry teaches. Storylines don’t become compelling by smoothing edges. They become compelling by pressing on them and refusing to let go.

And that’s what keeps us watching.

The success of Heated Rivalry should teach us lessons.  What should be our takeaways if we believe in the power of radio talent to make a difference?

Radio talent often believe the goal is to be agreeable, upbeat, and without friction – liked by all.  But the show proves the opposite.  Audiences don’t bond with perfection.  They bond with flaws and pressure.

Lesson One: Find the Tension in Everything and Let It Breathe

In Heated Rivalry, the characters don’t rush to tidy conclusions. They sit in discomfort. They argue. They hesitate. They contradict themselves. That’s what makes them human.

For radio, this means that the messy wins.  Try to position yourself as perfect or unflawed and you’ll lose.  My friend Lori Lewis says, “unpolished is the new polished.”  She’s right.  If you’re wrestling with a decision, a frustration, or a change, let the audience hear the wrestle. Unfinished emotions create forward motion. Forward motion keeps people listening.  No tension/conflict/drama/friction = no memorable story.

Lesson Two: Stakes Make Stories Sticky

Every conflict in the show costs something. Reputation. Identity. Trust. That’s why it matters.

On the air, stories without stakes sound like anecdotes. Stories with stakes sound like life. When you tell a story, ask yourself: What did I risk? What could I lose? What changed because of this? If nothing was on the line, the audience won’t lean in.

Lesson Three: Vulnerability Beats Likability

The leads in Heated Rivalry aren’t always likable, but they are emotionally honest. That’s the trade.

Radio personalities often chase approval when they should chase truth. Saying “I didn’t handle that well” or “I’m not proud of this reaction” or “I don’t understand that” builds more trust than trying to sound polished. Vulnerability is the shortcut to credibility.

Lesson Four: Conflict Doesn’t Mean Chaos or Arguing

The show’s tension is controlled. Purposeful. Directed.

On the air, conflict doesn’t mean yelling or controversy for its own sake. It means contrast. Opinions that collide. Expectations that aren’t met. Internal debates spoken out loud. That kind of friction creates texture without alienation.

Heated Rivalry reminds us that connection isn’t built by being smooth. It’s built by being real under pressure.

If you want listeners to care about you, let them hear what you care about enough to struggle with.  That’s where the bond forms.

Ilya, Shane, Scott, and Kip’s characters are grounded in tenderness, struggle, and betrayal and you want what’s best for them, because you want what’s best for you.  So does the audience.  So connect there.

By all means enjoy the steamy sex in the first few episodes of Heated Rivlary.  That’s the show’s hook.  But at the end of episode six, know that you stayed for much different reasons.  Then see what you learn from that to deepen and grow the bond you have with your fans by how you do your content.

No One Gets Better Alone

If you’re a friend you know that in the winter months, my sport is basketball.  Especially college ball, given I live in the same market as NC State, Duke, and UNC-Chapel Hill.

Years ago, when my father came to terms that his eldest son would never play sports, he suggested that I officiate my uncle’s team’s basketball scrimmages.  That was appealing to an insecure 15-year old because I was told I’d have a whistle and the other kids had to listen to me.  I caught the referee bug so, for the last three decades, I’ve officiated high school basketball as a side hustle.

Many years in, I wondered why I never got the brass ring:  an invitation to call a state championship.  After all, I’d done my time and thought I was pretty good.  When was it my turn?  And why did I keep hearing about others getting that accolade, but not me?  Voicing this to a fellow official, he wondered out loud if I was mature enough to get an honest answer.  Expecting him to simply affirm my perspective, I was trapped and had to say yes.  He recorded me at several games and then showed me the video (an aircheck, if you will).  Who was that overweight guy running up and down the court, I wondered?  Who’s that guy out of position on his calls?  It was me, and I had lots of work to do to get better, if my goal of a state championship was to be realized.

In the many years since, and reflecting on the work I now do in radio, one thing has become apparent – no one gets better alone.

Everyone says they want to improve.  Very few are willing to do the two things improvement requires.

First, you must look inward.  Not casually.  Not defensively.  But honestly.

That means admitting there are parts of your craft that are average, habits that are comfortable, and blind spots you can’t see on your own. Self-awareness is the starting point, but it’s not enough.

Real improvement happens when you invite a small, trusted circle into your process—people who care more about your growth than your feelings.  Not cheerleaders.  Not critics with an agenda.  Professionals who can give you unbiased, dispassionate feedback.

These are the people who will tell you:  “That works… but it could work better.”  “You’re leaning on the same moves again.”  “You’re good—but you’re capable of more.”

That kind of feedback stings a little.  It should.  Growth usually does.

The mistake most people make is crowdsourcing opinions or avoiding feedback altogether.  Both are comfort plays.  Neither leads to mastery.

If you’re serious about improving, build your small circle.  Listen without defending.  Apply what fits.  Discard what doesn’t.  Repeat and get better.

Progress isn’t about talent.  It’s about humility, trust, and the courage to let others sharpen you.

I belong to lots of referee Facebook groups and am always learning when I watch a posted video or they engage their followers in a philosophical conversation.  Paul Diasparra, an official who runs one of them, recently said this.  I’ve changed the parts about officials, so it resonates with you:

“If there’s one message you take into your future, let it be this:  getting no feedback is the anchor that slows your growth. Too many of us spend time looking sideways, comparing ourselves to peers, measuring progress against others, wondering why someone else moved up faster or got an opportunity sooner. Others spend time looking upward, too focused on talent who are where they wanna be. They compare timelines, they compare paths, and it often breeds insecurity, doubt, and the feeling of being left behind. And then there’s looking downward when you’re comparing yourself.  Maybe comparing yourself to someone who’s earlier on their journey. That doesn’t lead to growth either because it creates a false sense of confidence, feeds the ego, and distracts from the work that’s still required. None of those directions help you improve. The direction that matters most is looking inward. Your career is your story, your pace, your lessons, your setbacks, your breakthroughs. None of it is meant to look like anyone else’s. So, when you focus inward on your preparation, your habits, your mindset, and your effort, that’s where the real growth begins.”

If we’re going to stay relevant as an industry, we all know the power of talent.  But we have a smaller margin for error than we once did because of the amount of competition for the attention of listeners.

If you don’t have anyone you trust or can lean on to help you with this, holler at me and I’ll be on your team.  I want nothing for it except that you pay it forward to others in our industry so they can improve, too.

Because no one gets better alone.

The Raymond Rule – Why Your Characters Need Conflict – Sitcom Secrets for Radio Success

Some nights while eating dinner, I have no appetite on TV for the political shout-fests or sports round table know-it-alls.  So, I keep clicking until I hit gold:  a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond.  A show that hasn’t been on the air in 20 years but always delivers the laughs.

I wanna break down why and then offer your first challenge once the show returns from the holiday break in January.

The foundation of any successful show is its plot and characters.  Without either, you have no direction and can’t have a content strategy.  What is the unique plot of your show?  What is your show about?

Everybody Loves Raymond’s Plot:  Ray Barone, a successful sportswriter and family man, deals with a resentful brother, an always disappointed wife, and meddling parents who happen to live across the street.

It may shock you to know that they made 210 episodes over nine seasons.  And that’s the plot of every one of them (on purpose).  Ditto any successful show (Seinfeld, Survivor, Friends, Big Bang Theory, etc.).  What’s your plot?  The unique one-sentence frame of what your show is about?

Then come the characters.  They must be relatable and each different to lend a contrast to the others.  Here’s how you connect with the audience.  Well-defined characters allow listeners to identify with one.  It’s the tension with the others that makes the plot come to life.

If you’ve watched even a few Everybody Loves Raymonds, you will recognize and identify with these characters:

Ray:  the show’s protagonist who lives across the street from his parents and struggles with the demands of work and his family, often getting a lot wrong.

Debra:  Ray’s wife who is strong-willed, exasperated by Ray’s immaturity and his family’s constant intrusions into their lives. She can never live up to the expectations of Ray’s mother.

Robert:  Ray’s older and taller brother who’s an insecure cop and is always overshadowed by Ray.

Marie:  Ray and Robert’s mother who is an overbearing, meddling woman who constantly puts Ray on a pedestal, while criticizing Debra.

Frank:  Marie’s husband who is loud, sarcastic, and eccentric, and has a habit of yelling and making bizarre comments.

Who are the characters on your show?  They must, must, must be grounded in the truth.  The difference between your characters and those on Everybody Loves Raymond is that yours are real (the TV characters are assigned to great comedic actors).  You cannot give a persona to someone on your show – they’ll be inauthentic and the audience will sense it.  Apply this exercise above to your cast then ask where the tension is and how they are different.

I was recently asked by a program director to evaluate their show.  They said there doesn’t seem to be any electricity in the on-air conversation.  It was apparent why when I listened.  He has two of the same people.  The only difference was their gender.  They are both spouses, parents, the same age, and basically held the same world view.  Not much contrast there.

CBS just had an Everybody Loves Raymond 30th Anniversary Special.  The show’s creator, Phil Rosenthal, said the program is really about his home life.  Because real life is relatable, very funny (if you have the right scripts and characters), universal, and timeless.

When you come back in January, run this exercise as a re-set for the year.  There is never a downside to affirming your plot and characters.

Once you do, your content becomes easier to find and execute.  Your connection with the audience heightens because of it.  And you’ll own that turf.  If you’re strategic about all of this, there’s no way you don’t see greater success a year from now.

My Weather App Curses at Me – Why I Love That and What It Means for You

When Dick Cheney died, I wondered what the weather was for the rest of the day.  Those are two completely unrelated items.  Until I share that I opened my Carrot Weather app, and it said:

Storm clouds have formed over Raleigh because Dick Cheney has died.  There’s a great chance for thunderstorms because he’s trying to argue his way into heaven.

There are dozens of weather apps to choose from.  The Weather Channel, Weather Underground, AccuWeather, WeatherBug, NOAA Weather, Wunderground, and on and on.  Every single one of them alike.  They’re utilities to us – we just want weather information – so it doesn’t matter which we’re loyal to.

But not my Carrot Weather.  It has attitude and edge, and it almost always makes me laugh because it’s topical.  And it curses at me.  Where I’m blah on all the above, this app entertains me while I’m getting the weather information.  As a result, I don’t shrug my shoulders at Carrot.  Even its name is different from all the above.  What do carrots have to do with the weather?  Nothing!  I’m loyal to it because of these differences, and gladly pay their $30 yearly fee because I (we?) need more laughter in our lives.

The world has gotten edgier.  Most comedians, with some exceptions, have an attitude that lives on the fringes.  Our politicians curse.  The memes we see online that make us feel something have a harsher edge.  And now my weather app is there.

Every choice in any brand category starts from the perceptual position of “they’re all the same”.  In radio, we live in a “sea of sameness”.  This was a point I made on a recent podcast done for RJ Curtis at CRS.  Pamal Broadcasting’s Kevin Callahan, and the terrific consultants Fred Jacobs and Randy Lane, and I talked about talent and the responsibility we have to differentiate ourselves in this morass of “we’re all alike” to listeners.

I’m certainly not suggesting you get on the air and curse like my weather app.  But I am asking what imaginative things did you do on your show today?  If you answer, “we launched a phone topic in the 8:00 hour and got great calls” or “we themed the trivia in our daily benchmark,” I’d probably buzz you out of the game.  Because to the audience, that reinforces we’re all the same.

Carrot Weather is imaginative.  When I got the app, it wanted to know my political leanings and how comfortable I was with profanity (that got dialed up to 11).  Now, when I want to know the temps today, I get attitude and profanity before it tells me, making me laugh or emote in some way so I remember it and become more loyal because it does something its competitors don’t.

One of the points we made on the podcast was that radio doesn’t have a listening problem, it has a top-of-mind-awareness problem.  Our curiosity and imagination must be re-captured if we’re ever going to fix that. And it’s okay to have an edge (important:  if you don’t have a personality that is edgy then don’t be that – be who you are – but that’s not to say you can’t find someone who has it and bring that into your show).

Innovation takes us there, which is why Carrot Weather, when I now open the app, tells me it’s become a musical.  It’s something quirky and new.  It’s opening number is called “What the Eff Is This?”  I bet 1:50 in you’ll be giggling and then curious if it’ll rain today.

I’m not Steve to the app.  I’m Meatbag.  Carrot the Musical continues – here’s I Hate You, Fun to Make Fun Of, and Human.  My weather app keeps entertaining me.  I just have to open the app every day to unlock the songs (more usage/more occasions).  Doing all of this helps them separate from all the other weather apps.  Instructional for us in radio, too.  How do you separate from all the other stations?

We just concluded our yearly state fair in Raleigh.  To make an appropriate analogy, radio is too much bumper cars, and not enough KMG Tango, a ride that spins and flips you in three separate directions all at the same time.

This is the one thing I preach to every show.  Innovate, ideate, be weird and quirky.  Come at things noticeably different, and push back on the standard things every show everywhere does with the topics.  Go be a little odd and edgy.  Because doing same old, same old won’t work any longer.

Rise above it by surrounding yourself with people of like mind so it influences your show.  Be big and bold, have some swagger, and know how you will be noticeably (and at times dramatically) different from everything else out there.  That is our best way of reigniting listeners’ passion for what we do.

Now, as Carrot Weather wants me to remind you, there’s no chance of rain today so go be fucking epic.

Be Bored More. Here’s Why.

Have you ever been at a red light and picked up your phone?  We all do.   Know why?   We’re bored.  And checking email, texts, or worse, engaging the endless scroll of social media fixes that, as we look for something, anything to solve that boredom.

I’d like to make the case that our lack of boredom is one of the things that makes radio less entertaining.  I’ll explain, considering I spend 100% of my time helping shows not be boring.  (There’s a difference between you being boring and the benefit of you being bored.)

I’m always asking shows I work with, “Yea but what are we going to do with that to stand out?”  Our step back from being creative has a huge downside.  People don’t talk about us, they’re not captured by our imagination and curiosity, and we do fewer things that listeners find memorable so we’re not top-of-mind.  I think the solution appears when we go get bored because when we clear our heads, creativity happens.

I get bored in Umstead Park, right by my house.  I leash up Willow Two Toys® and Sam the World’s Neediest Dog® and we go for a walk.  No phone, no music, no headphones, no disruptions.  I turn the “gotta figure this out” dial down to zero.  Only nature and my wandering mind.  And what enters my brain when I invite in some boredom are solutions to challenges, ideas, and ways to innovate I didn’t have when I was filling that boredom with an endless search for something to solve it.

I don’t profess to have any super creative abilities.  But I have found, when I create that brain space by walking through the park, things magically happen.  I don’t know why and can’t predict when, but it happens.  We don’t do enough of that.  As an example from last week, we have a holiday concert at one station and the morning show has 100 tickets to give out.  Instead of doing pairs of tickets so lots of listeners win, or the dreaded Family Four Pack (someone kill this, please), the walk through the park brought me the idea to give all 100 tickets to one listener.  The morning show promotion Deck Your Doors was born in the park because of the boredom.  The talent and brand manager loved it and now we have something that’ll make our show stand out.

When I got back to the office one day after pondering this, I Googled “the impact boredom has on creativity”.  What I found was amazing.  An article came up by Arthur Brooks, a Harvard professor.  As did a video (below).  It’s worth five minutes of your time.  He said:

“We hate boredom because it makes us think about things we don’t like.  But boredom switches our brains to bring us creativity, solutions, and even less depression.”

So, I’m here to say go be bored.  Find a park, let your feet touch grass figuratively, leave the phone behind, and let your mind wander.  If you’re one of my on-air talent, try this weekly and watch what happens to your creativity.

Any of us could bang the drum on radio’s issues.  One thing in our control is what fuels our innovative spirit.  Those of us of a certain age remember the wild west days when we’d think of an idea on Tuesday and it’d be on the air on Wednesday.  It doesn’t just have to be standard phone topics or family four packs.  We need quirky ideas and treatments to the right content on our shows that capture the listener’s imagination because they came from ours.  Doing fresh things with the right topics will make whoever is listening in that moment stay because it’s so compelling.  Getting more bored might bring you those ideas – it’s what works for me.

I recently decided to add to the boredom menu.  I bought a bike.  While my friends all have bets on when I’ll end up in the emergency room, I’m betting that the boredom of the rides, with no phones or distractions, will unlock more of my curiosity.  A few days ago, the boredom of a ride brought me the idea for this blog.

I understand how the phone manufacturers and social media algorithms have addicted us.  But some boredom unlocks creativity.  So, let’s make some room for that to reclaim our full imagination.  Ditch that bonus meeting or Zoom (unless it’s with me!) and create space in your week to let your mind wander.  A walk in the park is my secret weapon.  Maybe it’s yours, too.  It could help your problem solving and increase your creativity, too.  Then watch how much more inventive and memorable your show gets.

Q100, Atlanta’s Biggest Challenge When Bert Leaves

Coming this Monday, the all-new Molly and Steve Show (laser effects).  They lit up Binghamton, and now they’re bringing their number one morning show (extended echo to accentuate “number one”) to the ATL.  Molly and Steve – they’re real with more fun (canned laughter), more prizes (cash register sfx), and War of the Roses.  The all-new Molly and Steve Show – you won’t wanna miss it – starting Monday right here on Q100 (jingle, up tempo song).

Human beings gravitate to routine and structure.  The Bert Show on Q100 in Atlanta has been a part of that for decades.  And poof, one day soon, it will go away.  What will happen to his massive, loyal following in Atlanta and across his network of stations?  However the station handles this moment could determine its success for many years.

Maybe you’re going through this, too.  I’d like to help.  But first, can I take you out for bite to eat?  My treat.

I have a friend who owns a bunch of restaurants where I live in Raleigh.  Almost all of them are successful.  I asked her how that happened.  While location and the food experience are important, she shared a template for launch which both fascinated me and is one I’ve adopted when introducing a new show to any audience.

It’s the soft launch.  Low profile, zero hyperbole, none of the hype.  All of that chest-pounding about how great things will be is for all of us, insiders who want to communicate that a show is so damn good, they’ll be damn good for listeners, too.  You must earn your stripes, and she reminded me that the higher the expectations, the greater the chance of failure.  Promotion heightens expectations.  Listeners hate hype and hyperbole and eventually reject it because it’s never that good upon a first listen.

Her soft launches are very quiet.  They open and whoever finds them gets the experience as the host team, kitchen crew, and wait staffs find their chemistry.  Figuring all that out quietly and with little attention and no klieg lights shows her where the speed bumps are.  Once that’s all smoothed out after a few months, and word-of-mouth starts, is when they consider promoting a more mature product.

I’ve launched tons of shows over the years.  My most paramount rule and the companion to every decision we make, is to do no harm to the existing cume.  They’re there for many reasons:  loyalty to the old show, habit, they like the music, there were features they enjoyed.  When people wake in the morning, they like routines.  And they hate when those routines are disrupted.  So, acknowledge this and go slow lest that cume scatter.  If we lose them, it costs money to get them back.  Protect it.

Goal #1 is to endear the new show to the exiting audience.  Here are the general rules I ask shows to follow when they’re new to the station or market:

  1. Topics should be familiar because you aren’t.  Familiarity is so important when people wake up.  Play the hits when it comes to topics.  Nothing unfamiliar.  Topics:  what’s going on locally, what’s up in pop (popular) culture, stories of your life that show you’re just like them, and music/artist-based content (so the show weaves itself into the larger station brand).
  2. Affirm and earn images that you’re fun, genuine, friendly, and authentic in every break.
  3. Character development is very important. Introduce yourself by being honest and sharing your life.  Letting them get to know you helps form that connection which leads to being familiar and loyalty.  A goal should be the audience saying, “they’re just like me and I feel like I know them.”  You don’t get that done in one break.
  4. Be interested in them so they’re interested in you. Lots of phones, lots of storytelling.  Put the focus on the audience.  Nothing is more powerful than you getting them to talk about their favorite subject – themselves.
  5. Avoid the point-of-fatigue that happens in breaks by under-staying the welcome. Short breaks lead them to wanting more.
  6. Music is your friend right now. Lots of music holds their hand through the transition.
  7. Be careful of the treatments to your strategic content so listeners don’t think, “They’re trying too hard to impress me.” In three words:  don’t be wacky.
  8. Benchmarks, especially now, help provide that structure I noted above. They give you the best chance to define the show and get into the listener’s morning routine.
  9. Respect the past. What fits the brand and what expectations do longtime listeners have?  Meet those in every break.
  10. No promotion of the show just yet because promoting something heightens expectations by users. This is a soft, quiet launch.

My restaurant friend said that, while food and location are important to each of her places, it’s the dozens of people she employs who make that experience come to life.  She’s worried about them and the other group of people – those who float in to eat who have no formed opinions of her restaurant (aka listeners).  Managing all of that takes precedence.

That conversation re-wired how I think about debuting shows.  The talent you’ve hired might get frustrated at the slower pace, but it sets up the existing cume (who hate change) to have a better chance to react positively to what you’re doing.  Whoever follows Bert is in a unique spot to save that audience.   But only if they’re strategic will they have their best chance to protect what’s there.

It should be the Molly and Steve show because they’d kill.

Want a one-sheet of the above rules?  Grab that here.

The Kennedy Connection

Two summers ago, in a brainstorm in Boston with MIX 104.1’s Karson and Kennedy, we were tasked with developing a big, new idea to combat depressed summer cume.  Lots of folks were on vacation or not paying attention to radio and we all wanted to do something big to capture the imagination of the audience and create tune in.

In and around all the ideas being offered, I asked an odd question that kinda popped in my brain:  what is the longest contiguous street in Boston?  We fired up the Google machine and found out that Washington Street spans five towns and 14-miles.

I suggested we go on a long walk one morning for charity.  That became Kennedy’s Wicked Long Walk.  Kennedy just did her second walk and, in one day, raised over $70,000 for Samaritans, a local charity that serves young people who are challenged with mental health issues.  Kids and mental health are the show’s causes, with the latter being important to Kennedy, as she’s been quite open with the audience about her mental health.

To create talk and momentum, we developed a five-day story line to add drama, tension, and interest, with the walk being our final chapter.  Year one it rained, year two had even more of the feels.  This year, people walked along with her with their dogs, mayors of the towns greeted her along the way with proclamations, police departments lined up to celebrate what she and the show were doing, business owners said hello as she passed.  NBC10 in Boston even followed along (video here).  All of it live on their air, as they asked fans to donate to help the struggling charity Samaritans.

I’m not one for metrics but let me share some impressive numbers.  Over $70,000 donated from more than 700 individual donors in one day.  Samaritans provided to Kennedy the donor list and she wrote a thank you to every single one of them.  She shared where their money was going and what it meant to her that they cared enough to help.  Can you imagine how it felt for those who gave to hear from her?

Listeners wrote back to thank her for the show making them laugh on the way to work and how proud they were of she and Karson for being so open about mental health.  Kennedy shared that the replies were so moving, she’s saving them for days when she’s having a bad mental health day.

Kennedy suggested this blog and wrote me:

“At the end of the day, I think they felt like we had a connection.  Isn’t that great radio, though?  Connecting?  The only difference between us and A.I. is the ability to connect on a human level.  I’ve been crying on and off all day with what listeners shared back with me.  I’ve never felt so connected to our listeners in my life.”

There’s that word again – connection – the one word I keep using that bonds you to anyone in your life who’s important.  That’s how you create radio fans, too.

Here’s my point:  there is an immense amount of stress, negativity, anger, and tension in the world.  Running in the opposite direction, which is what this show (and all the shows I work with) do so well, is smart.  Listeners are begging to be around a brand that not only does good in the community, but creates opportunities for them to do good, too.

Seven hundred different people donating money in one day is amazing.  Yes, listeners gave because they love the show.  Of course, some donated because they’re philanthropic and care about the cause.  But a reason people give is also a bit selfish – they give, too, so they can feel better about themselves.  Karson and Kennedy create those opportunities for their fans and are rewarded in loyalty that translates to #1 ratings.  If you do more of that – support your community and a cause important to you – you will deepen the connection, give listeners a chance to feel good about themselves, and elevate the images of the show with those who don’t or can’t.

This show gets the big and small stuff – they do things with relevant content that create wonderful experiences in the moment and big things that cause talk and keep them top-of-mind.  Kennedy’s Wicked Long Walk is a new tradition for the show that asks listeners to help join forces for a cause that’s important.  It’s a bold, different way to give fans a chance to do so, too.  In turn, that deepens the bond – the connection- between Karson, Kennedy, and their Producer, Dan.

That.  Is.  Great.  Radio.  That is what we do well and need to do more of.  Taking are of the community and asking the audience to help.  Lean into that.  If you do more of this stuff with your big, powerful show and radio station, you’ll win bigger, too.

I helped launch Karson and Kennedy sixteen years ago.  Their show is successful for many reasons.  That they are so connected to the market and their listeners is central to all of it.  They’re up for a Marconi in a couple of weeks.  I hope they win.