Archive for category: Planet Reynolds

The Day My City Wept

The Carolina Hurricanes won the Stanley Cup and there’s a vibe shift in my hometown of Raleigh, NC we should never lose.  People are smiling at strangers.  Car horns aren’t expressing frustration, they’re celebrating.  Social media isn’t filled with arguments.

People are weeping with happiness, and radio needs to create that local pride every day.

People who have nothing else in common are connected by a shared feeling.  The Carolina Hurricanes were celebrated with a parade 150,000 people attended.  They didn’t just win the Cup.  They reminded an entire community what it feels like to be part of something bigger than themselves.  Everyone has new best friends.

My message in this week’s Planet Reynolds is that radio has the power to do that every day.

Often, we see ourselves in the entertainment business.  And most days we are.  But we’re also in the belief business.  Think of that big service project you did to support a cause important to you.  You had to move fans into the belief business to get that done.

Every day, we decide what matters.  We help listeners choose what to care about.  We help shape how they feel about where they live.  If we spend hours every day talking about what’s broken, we’re teaching the audience what to believe about the community.

But if we spend hours every day celebrating local people, local victories, local traditions, and local pride, we’re teaching them something else.  We’re teaching them that this is a place worth loving.

I live in a market with Duke, UNC-Chapel Hill, and NC State.  We have seen championships before.  But this one was different.  It bonded the community like nothing I’ve seen in my decades here.

Often these feelings of joy live for a short while.  A team wins, you celebrate, then a few days later it dissipates.  I wonder what it would be like for all of us to make a longer-term commitment to celebrating where we live.

The negativity industry is thriving.  Algorithms reward outrage.  Cable news loves division.  Social media radiates conflict.  Everywhere we go, someone or something is telling us what should make us angry.

Radio has an opportunity to do something different, because you control how listeners feel by what you do.  There might be problems, but there are also victories.  Yes, there’s conflict, but there’s also kindness.  There certainly is division, but there’s also community.

Sometimes the most rebellious thing a personality can do is make people feel hopeful.  It’s like running in the opposite direction from everything else we experience.

No one can tell the story of your town better than you.  Nobody can celebrate local heroes better than you.  Nobody can create pride in your community better than you.  This is not about putting on your show a Thursday feature called Hometown Heroes and ticking that box.  It’s about making a wholesale change in your content to always be the champions of your city.  A vibe that permeates everything.

When the Hurricanes won, the great radio stations of Raleigh didn’t just report it.  They amplified what it meant to be a community experience.  When they won 20 years ago, the celebration was them parading in the parking lot of the arena where they played (true!).  When the Hartford Whalers moved here 30 years ago, they said hockey wouldn’t work in the south.  This time, 150,000 showed up to the streets of downtown Raleigh to express their love for what the team did for us.  And the team responded in kind.

The best personalities become the emotional mayors of their communities.  They celebrate what deserves celebrating.  They shine a bright spotlight on those who make a difference.  They create moments where listeners feel connected to one another.  They don’t tune in just for a laugh, but because they’re desperately in search of something that makes them feel good about where they live.  You can help them see their hometown through a better lens.

Do you need a winning team like we have in Raleigh or in New York when the Knicks won?  Nope, you just need to access the passion you have for your town, then make that content commitment to your fans.

If we committed to making daily moments of civic pride, what might that be like?  One story, one local hero, one example of generosity, one reason to feel grateful.  Imagine the cumulative effect if you did that five days a week, 52 weeks a year.  Not just to build ratings and revenue.  But to build belief. Because when people feel connected to their community, they become happier citizens, better neighbors, and more engaged participants in local life.  And if you did that, how might you be celebrated?

Build that community and radio becomes more than a source for content.  It becomes an epicenter for connection.

The roar coming from Raleigh wasn’t really about hockey.  It was about identity, it was about belonging, and it was about thousands of people sharing the same feeling at the same time.  That’s why we wept.

Radio has always possessed that same superpower.  The question isn’t whether we can create those moments.  The question is whether we’ll become intentional enough to use them.

Because in a world that’s constantly telling people what’s wrong, great talent can still remind them what’s right.   And that might be the most important job we have.

You game?

Donald Trump and the Attention Economy: Steal from Him to Stay Top-of-Mind

Several years ago, I was invited to attend a gathering of Hubbard programmers.  Traditionally when programmers of any company gather, it’s time to learn.  One of the teachers that day, besides me, was Fred Jacobs.

Fred gives a great presentation and something he said that day has stayed with me for years:  Donald Trump would have been an amazingly successful program director because he knows how to command our attention and create talk.

The previous Planet Reynolds (Steve Wants to Sell You a Horse) noted how we are in the Attention Economy now.  Everywhere we turn, something is vying to capture our attention.  I’d mentioned in that piece that often what I hear on radio shows is pleasant people having pleasant conversations about perfectly acceptable topics.  We don’t try hard enough to capture and keep the attention of our listeners.  By not doing that, we create the circumstances where something else will.  That’s one of the reasons TSL is abysmal.

So, Steve got to thinking!  I noodled on this question:  what does Donald Trump do that makes all of us, regardless of whether we love or hate him, stop to pay attention?  And what can we take from that to get better so our fans don’t leave?

Here are the ten items I landed on with applications of how they might work for you.  I’m not advocating you start talking about politics or culture-war issues.  But seizing on some of his techniques noted here up against the topics appropriate for your show might create more energy where listeners will stay longer or come back because you’re electric.  Because tension equals attention.

  1. He frames everything as a fight. Everything is a battle:  winners and losers, there are always stakes.  He knows that friction magnetizes attention.  For you:  think about how you frame things.  For instance, you can say, “Let’s talk about tipping in America.”  Or you can say, “If one more person asks me to tip them, I’m going to drive my car into a building.”   Which is more attention-getting?
  2. He uses memorable labels. He knows how to brand everything with sticky shorthand.  Fake what?  Crooked who?  Sleepy who?  It’s all mental Velcro.  For you:  naming what you do is highly memorable.  Labels are remembered faster.
  3. He talks in simple language. He uses short sentences and everyday words with a punchy rhythm with his barstool voice.  For you:  if the sentence sounds like it belongs in an email from corporate, kick it out.  We’re just in the car chatting.
  4. He repeats the message relentlessly.  He knows that repetition builds memory and memorability builds identity.  Because repetition is branding.  For you:  never fear over-teaching anything by repeating yourself.  A catch phrase or a core belief of the show said over and over helps it cut through.
  5. He creates moments designed for reaction. Reaction fuels attention.  Attention fuels coverage.  Coverage fuels reach.  For you:  engineer a reaction in what you do.  Bold language ignites a conversation in their brain.
  6. He makes everything personal. Stories about people are easier for audiences to emotionally process.  For you:  Who’s human in what you’re doing?  Humans beat abstractions every time.
  7. He performs confidently. He has absolute certainty on everything.  Maybe?  Kinda?  Nope.  Conviction builds trust.  For you:  Not arrogance, but conviction.  We like being around people who know what they want and think.  Because living in the mushy middle is a one-way ticket to Loserville.
  8. He creates ongoing storylines. Ongoing narratives are followed.  It’s Trump vs. the media.  America is winning not losing.  For you:  make people pay attention to see what happens next in the story.  For instance – Steve thinks golf is stupid.  Let’s change his mind with some lessons and beers this weekend.  Tune in Monday to see if he’s a convert.
  9. He understands the camera. He creates mental cinema.  For you:  speak to create a picture.  “I’m standing in the aisle at Walmart, holding a $9 jar of Hellmann’s mayonnaise, wondering why it’s so expensive.”  You saw me in that Walmart aisle holding the mayo, right?
  10. He is unpredictable. He never lets the conversation become background noise because he knows that predictability comforts and surprise captures attention.  For you:  don’t let your break become background babble.  The unexpected guest, the sudden stunt, the random street audio, a new segment.  It all goes to helping keep their attention.

Attention beats perfection.  A show that occasionally ruffles feathers, but sparks conversation will beat a polite show no one talks about.

The world around us has changed, folks.  It’s louder, edgier, and very, very noisy.  Job #1 is to capture their attention.  Job #2 is to keep it.

Do that and they won’t just hear you, they’ll follow you.

Steve Wants to Sell You a Horse

It was the Monday after the Kentucky Derby many moons ago.  My on-air partner and I decided we needed to use that topic for content on the show.  So, we hatched this brilliant idea to call the McDonalds up the road from the station, claiming we were the owners of the horse that came in last place, to see how much they’d give us for him, saying he’d make for delicious hamburgers.

Genius, huh?  We live in the attention economy and thought those three minutes would certainly keep listeners from going elsewhere.

At 10:00 that morning, we were hauled into the GM’s office and informed we’d lost the McDonalds account.

Fortunately, we had a very good manager who awarded creativity and risk-taking.  He understood, gave us a pass, and replaced them with another client paying a higher rate.

Don’t bank that idea for next year.  The world (and business environment) is different now.

I listen to radio all over the country and, in too many places, hear pleasant people having pleasant conversations around acceptable topics.  In this environment, that won’t cut it.

Where are my renegades?  The mischievous people?  The quirky who can capture the imagination of the audience and cause talk?

I am NOT suggesting you be reckless or inappropriate.  But we do need to foster an environment of silliness again if we’re ever going to stay top-of-mind with our fans, so they develop this fear of missing out.

We ain’t gonna get that through a prep service or being inoffensive and playing it safe with bland conversations and phone calls from listeners chiming it.

Yes, I know the corporate folks look down on this and the lawyers default to “no” a lot.  But how do we work past this to find the sweet spot for people who can do it?  I know we’ve chased many of them away from our industry.  But that doesn’t absolve those of us who remain from thinking that way, too.

Pleasant all the time is our enemy.  It makes radio completely missable. Take a stand, access your sense of humor for silly angles that can be leveraged into talked about breaks.  In one word:  innovate without doing wacky radio bits.  Wait, that was six words.  Sorry.

I had a show once that bought a ton of girl scout cookies.  They invited in two teachers who built a big Jenga tower with the cookie boxes.  The teacher who made the tower collapse lost, and the other got all the cookies for their school.

Or the Boston show that was outraged when Dunkin’ changed the name of the Boston Cream Donut to the Philly Cream Donut.  The Flyers were making their Stanley Cup run (rivals to sports-loving Bostonians).  They had listeners bring their Dunkin’ merch to the station to burn unless they changed the name back.

Or the talent who mused on-air, concerned he left the iron plugged in before leaving for work.  A C-level show would have left it at that.  A B-level show would have opened the phones, asking listeners if they’d ever done that, too (kinda lame, but it’s something).  This show went A-level and sent the co-host home to check.  A narrative with tension!  And while en-route (all of it on-air), they called his insurance agent and found out he hadn’t paid his renters insurance.  Ouch.

Or the show, in new digs, who found a crushed Cheez-It in the carpeting and called every other talent during that program, asking their favorite snack, to figure out who dirtied the studio, pissing off the chief engineer.

We don’t need prizes and contesting isn’t the elixir.  We need imagination.  Doing something imaginative to capture all who are listening will feed the fear of missing out.  An image every show needs to get that extra measure of audience to set you apart.

I’m inspired when I watch old Letterman clips on YouTube.  He was a master at it.  So was Colbert.  I know they had teams of people to suggest this stuff.  But we need to access those odd things more if we’re going to survive and thrive.

So much of what I hear lives in the Sea of Sameness.  Shows that do this kind of stuff will prevent people from leaving.  You’ll capture them for a moment to see what happens next.  If you create attention through imagination, you can then persuade listeners to stay longer, come back, or have a deeper relationship with your show.  If you don’t create imaginative attention, then you can’t.

Let’s go already, radio.

PS:  Because I know you’re wondering, Pavlovian came in dead last in May’s Kentucky Derby.  He had 30-1 odds.  Today, there’s a better than even chance he’d make a delicious quarter-pounder if anyone is willing to make the call.

PPS:  Colbert wrapped up being on CBS on a Thursday night.  The very next night, he’s hosting a cable access show in Monroe, Michigan.  Absolute, total silliness.  I dare you to not laugh at this.  It’s a giggle-fest.  We need more of that.

The Personal is Universal

My girlfriend is out of town on an extended business trip, and I have the place to myself.  She’s expecting me to keep the house clean.  So far, I’d get an F.

My neighbor borrowed my lawnmower two weeks ago and still hasn’t returned it.  I’m scared to ask him for it back.

I’m going on a vacation and on a limited budget.  The cheapest place I can find is a “sex hotel”.  I’m thinking about staying there but won’t do anything and I definitely won’t get naked.

My dog is really sick and so far, my wife and I have racked up $3900 in vet bills.

 

I talk much on these pages that a show’s goal is to Conquer Content and Create Connection.

What is connection, but proving to the audience that you are just like them?  Think of the people you’re close to in your personal life.  It all started by common bonds.  How to do that today?  Well, be honest in whatever you’re talking about.  And tell stories about yourself by being vulnerable and letting them in your world in ways that prove you are just like them!

There are some general guidelines to follow when deciding if a story you experience is worthy of the show.  Ask these questions, because not all experiences qualify:

  1. Is it an experience the average listener could find themselves in? Is there a fair shot they have had or could have a similar experience?  That’s called relatability.
  2. If not #1, is it an experience so extraordinary and intriguing the listener would be interested in hearing it?
  3. In both of the above, is there conflict or tension? We’re all addicted to drama and without it, you don’t have anything.
  4. Is there a powerful emotion associated with the story, so the audience feels it?

Check all the stories at the very top top.  They each satisfy #1 above:  I’m alone in the house and have to keep it clean for when my girlfriend returns from a trip; I am going on vacation without much money and might stay at a “sex hotel” because it’s cheap; my neighbor borrowed something and won’t give it back; my dog is sick and we have massive vet bills.  In each of these, the average listener could relate and you’re bonding with them because of those commonalities.

Where shows get in trouble, you get a disconnect because not every story has the same strategic benefit.  I recently saw a social media post of a talent talking about being on a corporate jet and spilling red wine on a white sofa.  Not very relatable or great use of content time as the audience says, “that’s not me.”

The other problem is when you have stories with no tension.  Because tension is what creates attention.

Follow these general guidelines as you aggregate personal experience content to be sure your strategic goal in creating connection is reached when making your choices on what stories to share with the audience.

Because the personal is universal.

Radio’s Forgotten Superpower (Hey NAB – Read This and Give Me a Call?)

Your fans are driving to work, listening to you, and having fun.  In the quiet, darker moments, what feeling might they be experiencing?  We hear much about a loneliness epidemic in society.  It impacts us all, whether we wish to openly acknowledge it or not.  Loneliness is a public health crisis and no longer a fringe issue.  In the quiet spaces of life – the commute, the cubicle, the kitchen at night, we all have pangs of feeling alone in this hyperconnected world.  These are the exact moments where personality radio excels.

Not to be nostalgic, but when I was a kid and found radio, I would often listen alone in my basement bedroom on Sherman Drive in Newburgh, NY.  As an insecure 15-year-old, I left every listening occasion feeling as though I was hearing my best friend on the radio.

One of my unaided goals for any talent is for the audience to leave saying, “They’re just like me.  I feel like I know them.”

Over the years, we’ve leveraged away advantages.  Some of that we did to ourselves:  we’re less local due to syndication, we’re less unpredictable due to the lawyers and corporate control, and we have ceded music images to music-only services like Spotify and Apple Music.  Some of that was done to us:  the algorithm and passive, endless scrolling.  Personalized feeds feel social but aren’t.  Spotify knows what you like but it really doesn’t know you.  It can’t laugh with you, it can’t root for you, and it can’t comfort you when life gets complicated and punches you in the gut.

One attribute we’ve never lost is our intimacy.  What I learned from my early mentors, that radio is just you and me, still holds.  Every one of us on-the-air has received a call from a listener who had a tragedy in their life, and we were what kept them company through it.

I’ve always wanted the NAB to adopt a new slogan that reinforces to listeners and advertisers this immense strength no other medium has.  I want that positioning statement to be Radio – We Make You Feel Less Lonely.

Not to turn this into a Steve therapy session, but all of us have varying degrees of loneliness in our life.  You or I might not admit that to anyone vocally, but deep down inside we do.  Despite how fast life moves and all these devices we’re addicted to, many of us have pangs of loneliness.  Concurrent, we also feel that, regardless of how hard we try at anything, no one is rooting for us.

I know, this is deeper than you’d expect from me this time.  But here’s where radio shines brightly and we need to lean into this if we’re going to stay relevant.  It’s a lesson on how to deepen the bond with listeners, turning them into fans.

Tackling loneliness as an ongoing community service project is powerful.  Acknowledging this, as I have done here with you, is deeply vulnerable.  I ask shows to talk about this, reinforcing that in a world where people don’t think anyone is there for them, especially during tough times, we are if we do radio right.  So, listeners leave knowing they have a friend, even if they’ve only been there for fifteen minutes.  Radio – We Make Listeners Feel Less Lonely.

Great radio is grounded in Conquering Content and Creating Connection.  There’s nothing more powerful than addressing and solving the loneliness problem each of us experience.  That’s connection.

I was captured by this short video shared by the morning talent I work with at 3FM, part of the National Public Radio System in the Netherlands.  A cast member was about to see a friend she’d not visited with in years.  She mused about how long it might be before they’d see each other again.  So, she wrote her a letter, bared her soul, and offered this private, very intimate moment for all the audience to hear.  As you watch, take note of her cast-mate’s faces.  They sit in awe.  You’ll view this and leave with the same thought I had – I feel like I know her, her values, and how she treats people.  And you’ll want a friend just like her in your life, too.  Radio here made their listeners feel less lonely.

It was neither polished nor “radio perfect”.  It was human.  And in that moment, the studio disappeared, like we were eavesdropping on something sacred.

Somewhere in that audience (somewhere in your audience), there’s a listener all alone, like I was when I found radio.  If we do radio right and dig deeper than trivia games and relationships-features, they won’t feel alone when any segment ends.  Just like I didn’t.

Let listeners know that, and you’ll change their life as they become less lonely.  You’ll change your life, too.  And be reminded why you fell in love with radio as a kid.

If radio is going to matter in the years ahead, it won’t be playing the right songs or having the right benchmarks.  It’ll be because we made someone feel seen, heard, and less alone.

What radio does so brilliantly when done right is make listeners feel less lonely.  Maybe radio isn’t in the music business any longer.  Maybe we’re in the companionship business.  You wanna win?  You want legacy stuff?  Make that job #1 and you will.

Our ability to be intimate with listeners is radio’s superpower.  And could be its next great future.

 

Steve Pet Peeves: Volume 4

Is Steve in an ornery mood today?  Geez, I don’t think so.  I just had coffee with him this morning and he seemed fine.  Let’s ask:  “Hey Steve, anything bugging you today?  And why the hell are you talking in the third person in the blog that you write?”

When you listen to as much personality radio as I do (minimum 6-8 shows a day!), something’s gonna bug you.  That’s why I have the award-winning series Steve Pet Peeves!  It gives me a chance to share some things I hear that create a less than enjoyable listening experience.

Nothing on this list will impact the number before the decimal point.  But do enough of them and it will alter the number after the decimal point.

Here’s Volume 4 (or Volume IV if Roman numerals makes it more official):

  1. Talent who forget that every day you have listeners who don’t know who you are. I’m a new listener tuning in and have no idea who’s who.  Don’t make me work for it.  Help me by telling me.
  2. Any talent posting online a picture of themselves signing a contract extension.  Please stop.  You’re saying to the audience, “I have job security and you don’t,” which is a bad look to connect with the regular people.  I collect these when I see them.  Maybe one day I’ll release them?!
  3. See #2 above – those who put next to the picture, “Well, you’re stuck with me for three more years!” Don’t be passive-aggressive.
  4. Over-explaining how a game works.  Instead of that, just play a short version of it for the audience amongst yourselves.  Doing that shows how it’s played and will grab the audience more.
  5. Spending the first two minutes explaining things to me before the actual content begins. All that process stuff is a tune out.  Because when we’re explainin’ we ain’t entertainin’.  I’m gonna trademark that line.
  6. The dreaded sports bet between shows. Your team is playing their team, so you make a bet with a show in that market.  Decades of doing this work and I have yet to see how any listener finds this entertaining (because it ain’t about them).
  7. When playing a game, asking the caller if they’re ready.  Yes, they’re ready.  They’re already on the phone and you should have prepped them to be ready before you played.
  8. Shows that go on and on about a cast member’s birthday. You know when it’s someone’s birthday in the office and they make you celebrate it?  You know how you feel?  You really don’t care, right?  The listeners feel that way, too, when you go on about yours.  Unless you have a great story with lots of drama.
  9. Talent who put the phrase “it’s your girl” or “it’s your boy” before they say their name. It’s your boy, Steve Reynolds!  Only DJs do that.
  10. Psychics.  Very 1985.  It doesn’t matter that your phones ring off the hook.  Let’s be better than 1985.

I am already working on Volume 5.  Got one?  Email me here.  If you missed previous versions, find Volume 1 here, Volume 2 here, and Volume 3 here.  I’m told once the list is complete, it’ll hang in the Smithsonian.

What Great Talent Want More than Anything Else

We’re at the end of another thrilling March Madness.  The elite survive and move on in the tournament.  I’m captured by something Duke’s iconic Coach K said while on the Pat McAfee Show:

“Greatness wants to be coached.”

He said this when asked what it was like to coach basketball’s elite:  Kobe Bryant, Shaquille O’Neal, Dwayne Wade, LeBron James and others on the Olympic basketball team.  Pat wondered if he asked them to check their egos at the door.

Quite the contrary Coach K said.  Elite performers have an ego – it’s part of what motivates them.  He told them to bring their egos into the room as long as they could form one ego together that would drive the team.  We know the results.

Over the many years I’ve coached radio talent, there are many qualities that bind the radio elite I’ve been fortunate to work with.  They have egos, but their greatness wanted to be challenged.  That pushing and pulling and questioning of talented people, open to this feedback, helps get them to heights yet unknown.  Their greatness wanted coaching.

Two stories.

The wonderfully smart Dom Theodore called me on a Monday many years ago.  He was programming then CBS’s new Top 40 AMP in New York City.  He wanted me to come to town that Thursday to interview someone they were considering for mornings.  Someone who was out-of-the-box.  They were wondering if they were crazy considering this person.

I am normally leery working with celebrities outside of radio.  They tend to think their persona alone will drive their radio success.  Two hours after having a one-on-one chat with Nick Cannon, I told Dom they’d be dumb if they didn’t hire him.  I was captured by Nick’s aura and passion for radio and told him I would need direct contact with him if this was gonna work.  He really had no idea how to do radio.  While I respected the room (cohosts and producers), the show would rise and fall with Nick’s decisions.  He gave me his cell.  When I got to Laguardia, I texted him and got a reply in thirty seconds.  A good sign.  That’s how it went with Nick.

Nick made every meeting, even if it meant taking the red eye from Los Angeles.  He called to ask questions and for advice.  He thought about radio all the time and worked to learn how we do this.  Despite the station not succeeding (because of a little thing called Z100), I adored Nick.  His greatness wanted coaching.

Ditto Ebro Darden at HOT 97 in New York.  I was taken by this incredible article done on him in Barrett Media last week.  Ebro’s no longer on terrestrial radio.  But look at how he’s elevated.  Ebro, as you would imagine, is no wallflower.  We’d sit in meetings and challenge each other.  Never raised voices, but convictions on both sides.  All I had to do was access the New Yorker in me.  Maybe he didn’t like it in the moment (maybe he did?), but there was always a mutual respect.  Ebro is where he is now because his greatness wanted coaching (from me in small part and I am sure many others in his career).

If you only want to be coached on your terms, you don’t want greatness.  You want comfort.

Ebro and Nick (and the many other great talent I’ve worked with) have convictions and a vision for their shows.  They also crave the conversation to improve.  They want someone to challenge them and hold them accountable.  None of that scares them.

The core attributes of those who get to greatness (you must have all three):  Aptitude (their talent), Attitude (we embrace growth positively), and Work Ethic (we out-work everyone else).  There’s much in radio we don’t control.  But these items noted here, the through thread of excellence, are choices in our control.

Radio is dying?  Not if we have personalities with greatness who want to be coached.  Those folks thrive regardless of the environment.

💣 But The Phones Blow Up When We Do That… 💣

Why It Matters:  because doing same old, same old and allowing the phone lines or social media reaction to guide your content strategy are coin flips.

The week of November 3, 2025 was a particularly tough one at the intergalactic headquarters of The Reynolds Group and for your old pal Steve Reynolds aka the Top Ten Talent Coach®.

I spot checked two different shows that week and something so horrific happened on both that it took multiple therapy sessions and some gummies to deal with.  Only now can I talk about it.

I tuned in and both shows had on psychics.  Cue the thunderclap.

Hype and hyperbole aside, I did bristle at the content choice and imagined what both would say when I asked why.  As a former morning guy, I tend to know the excuses before I hear them.  I was well-versed in using all of them to justify a content choice that was both bad and non-strategic.

Here’s what they’d say: “but the phones blow up every time we do that.”  As if the phones were an affirmation of a smart decision.  They might be right.  But they could also be wrong.

I wanna make two points:

  • It scares me to make content decisions based on direct feedback from what you get on the phones, when listeners talk with you, or what you see on social media. Not that those people are wrong for themselves, but it’s dangerous to extrapolate what a few people say and believe it’s correct for all.  Four blinking phone lines means that those four people are reacting to what you’re doing.  Without research, there’s no idea what everyone else thinks (test recall and perceptions and you’ll know much more than what blinking phone lines or social media likes/posts say).  If listeners tell you how wonderful you are, that’s their truth.  But remember, no listener will ever reach out to say the opposite.  It’s easy to be romanced into thinking that that’s how everyone feels.  But, emotions (good or bad) are never a smart way to decide about content for your show.  Tens of thousands are listening at any given moment.  That five said something is noise in the grand scheme of things.  The question I’d ask both shows above is this:  how did having on a psychic fit our content strategy?  If that can be answered satisfactorily, then let’s do it.  If it can’t, then we shouldn’t.
  • The specific issue I have with psychics is that it isn’t a modern content choice. It’s quite old school and might say to the audience – we do this because we’ve done this and that should be good enough for you.

One show I work with decided to pull the old standard War of the Roses last year.  It got us our best streaming downloads and tune ins, but the show lost favor with it and, in a reassessment of our content strategy, we believed it no longer fit where the listeners are in life.  In a world with lots of arguing and deception, they and the show’s hosts hearing about cheating couples no longer was right.

That’s not to say drama doesn’t work.  We just had to update doing dramatic things, but no longer through this feature.  I’m not advocating taking this feature off if you do it, just sharing the conversation I had with this show about its fans.

We pulled the feature (everything went online and on demand for those who like it) and came up with new (modern) ideas to get stuff like that on the air.

Some talent reading this will wanna defend psychics.  I’ll make it easy.  Email me here to make your case and let’s have that spirited conversation.  But we need to be more strategic and inventive to get to our win, given the vast number of choices listeners have for content and connection.

Let me leave you with this great quote from Harry Styles on Howard Stern on the best advice he ever got in his career (clip here).  Harry said:

“I think one of my favorite things a friend once told me is remember that everything that people say about you isn’t true.   Whether they say that you are horrific, it’s not true.  And if they tell you that you’re the best thing ever, it’s not true.”

Certainly, accept those comments.  That’s the truth of the person sharing it.  But…your plot and content strategy beat all of that.  Can you honestly and dispassionately connect the dots between whatever you decide to do on your show and that?

In a world with lots of noise all around us all the time, choose well and smart.  And ignore the feedback you get from those blinking lights and social media posts.  It’s always dangerous to decide only from those.

🔥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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