"People like YOU don't work in radio!"

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[grantgoddard]

Making world music's first international star : 1985-1988 : Ofra Haza, Tel Aviv & London

 In January 1985, I had arrived in Israel to work as a DJ on a radio station, but this was no ordinary radio. The studios of ‘The Voice of Peace’ were on a ship anchored permanently in the Mediterranean Sea [see blog]. Aware of my interest in cutting edge music, the station’s popular breakfast DJ Dave Asher (who had been living in Israel for some time) [see blog] played me a recent 12-inch single ‘Galbi’ by a young Israeli singer of Yemeni origin named Ofra Haza. It was a traditional Yemeni song, re-mixed and cut up into a state-of-the-art club tune that sounded to me like a new, exciting ‘Middle East meets West’ genre. I wanted to find out more, but the terrible winter storms and shortage of DJ staff meant that I was stuck working on the ship for the next three months.

Eventually, during my first shore leave, I visited the Tel Aviv office of the small independent record company ‘Hed Arzi’ that had produced the Ofra Haza single. They were baffled that a British DJ would be so interested in one of their worst selling record releases, and particularly one that seemed to have such minimal mainstream potential. They humoured me and let me sit at a desk in their office, penning handwritten letters to radio DJ’s and record labels that I knew back in the UK, sent by airmail along with the single and related album ‘Yemenite Songs’.

Within a month, I had received replies from John Peel at ‘BBC Radio One’ and Charlie Gillett at London’s market leader ‘Capital Radio’, both saying that they had played Ofra’s record on their shows and had received enquiries asking where the record could be purchased. During my next shore leave, I returned to Hed Arzi, whose staff were amazed that their song had been played on national radio in the UK. They introduced me to Ofra and her manager for the first time. I wrote again to several UK record labels and one of them, ‘Globestyle’ owned by ‘Ace Records’, was convinced sufficiently by the airplay to release both the single and the album [see blog].

I returned to the UK at the end of 1985 and spent the next two years trying to convince everyone I knew of Ofra’s talent. By 1987, I had given away so many copies of her records to music industry people that Ace Records’ Roger Armstrong said I would be given one last free box. By chance, I had recently been invited to attend a monthly staff meeting of London pirate station KISS FM (at the London School of Economics) [see blog] and, as a last resort, I distributed copies of Ofra’s records from this last box to some of the station’s DJs, mailed from my part-time job with ‘Rough Trade Records’ director Scott Piering. Simultaneously, I attended monthly meetings in a London pub of music industry personnel who created the new genre ‘world music’ and marketed it for the first time in the UK [see blog].

KISS FM DJ's Jonathan More and Matt Black, recording together as ‘Coldcut’, had already enjoyed underground success with some highly original cut-up singles on their ‘Ahead Of Our Time’ label. They liked the Ofra Haza songs so much that they cut up one of them into their homemade remix of US rappers Eric B & Rakim’s latest single ‘Paid In Full’. ‘Island Records’ in the UK released this remix without seeking Eric B’s prior approval, and without clearing the Ofra Haza sample. By the end of 1987, the single had reached number 15 in the UK singles chart, giving Eric B his first British hit and earning significant royalties for the Israeli record company because a third of the track featured Ofra’s voice, a fact I knew because Roger Armstrong had asked me to time the recording with a stopwatch in order to negotiate his appropriate share of royalties from Island Records.

More than anything, the chart success of that Eric B remix stimulated huge public interest in Ofra Haza’s voice beyond the narrower market for the new ‘world music’ genre. In early 1988, I organised interviews for a promotional visit to the UK, shepherding Ofra Haza and her manager Bezalel Aloni to BBC Radio 1, the BBC World Service and London commercial radio stations. Ace Records re-issued Ofra’s ‘Im Nin Alu’ single, which quickly garnered radio airplay this time, despite it being sung in a strange, foreign language. However, the public demand for the single was so great that the independent label had difficulty fulfilling orders, so it licensed the track to ‘Warner Brothers/WEA’. After an initial meeting with the major label at which I passed on all the press coverage I had achieved to date, my direct involvement with Ofra Haza ended abruptly, just as she was invited back to the UK to perform on BBC1 TV show ‘Top of The Pops.’ I had asked Warner to keep me updated but it never did.

After the success of this single internationally, the Israeli record label invited me to London’s ‘Sarm West’ Studios, where the follow-up single ‘Shaday’ was being mixed. It was evident that none of the Warner Brothers personnel involved had any understanding of the unique charm of Ofra’s Yemeni music in the international marketplace. Ofra’s controlling manager was far too keen to turn her into a mainstream pop singer, which is exactly how the public perceived her in Israel. As a result, the follow-up single bombed and, sadly, it seemed then as if Ofra was consigned to be a one-hit wonder as a result of poor career guidance.

In 2000, I was shocked to learn of Ofra’s death at the age of 42 from AIDS-related organ failure. I emailed the family in Israel, asking to attend the funeral, but received no response. Two years later, an Israeli ‘Channel 2’ television film crew came to London and filmed an interview about my role in creating their country’s most successful international pop star [for 70-minute ‘The Life & Death of Ofra Haza’]. They had just filmed a similar interview with John Peel at his home, during which he impressed them by producing my handwritten letter that had accompanied the Ofra records I had initially sent him from Israel seventeen years earlier. The interviewer asked me if I had made a fortune from ‘discovering’ Ofra Haza for the international market. I laughed. All I had ever received was one cheque for £200 from Ace Records in 1988 to reimburse my expenses for taxis, refreshments and food during Ofra’s initial London promotional visit. Neither Hed Arzi, nor Ace Records, nor Haza’s estate has communicated with me since.

Ofra’s incredible voice lives on through the music she recorded, although I am always reminded of the parts of her life that had been unbelievably tragic. The crucial roles of the late John Peel and Charlie Gillett in her international success should not be forgotten. Ofra Haza’s music arrived in the Western world at a time when the public welcomed sounds that challenged their expectations. We are musically much the poorer for the loss of Ofra, and of John and Charlie, from our world.

[Green Productions in Israel has just completed a video documentary ‘One Song’ in Hebrew that narrates the story in detail for the first time of how ‘In Nin Alu’ became an unlikely pop chart hit.]

[Originally published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2026/01/making-world-musics-first-international.html ]

[grantgoddard]

I did not think the girl could be so cruel : 1989-1990 : Amanda Jane Lyons, BBC Radio

 July 1989. I had just broken up with my girlfriend of three years, after a particularly bitter confrontation that had shocked me profoundly. Since Easter, London’s rail and underground system had suffered a series of one-day strikes that had brought the city to a complete standstill once a week. On returning home one evening to the flat we shared, I had found a note informing me that me she was staying overnight with a friend because she was working the late shift in her job and thought the following day’s strike would prevent her from getting home.

However, that evening, I happened to notice that the packet of condoms stored in the bathroom cabinet had been disturbed and, on inspection, I found that several of them were missing. When she returned the next day, I confronted my girlfriend with this evidence and she admitted she had spent the night with a work colleague who was still in his teens, and with whom she had planned to have sex using my condoms. Later, I discovered that my girlfriend had been harbouring sexual desires towards this work colleague for at least the previous year of our relationship, and that she had specifically asked her employer to change her shift pattern so that the two of them could spend the night together.

I was outraged that she had deceived and cheated on me so blatantly. I told her that our relationship ended there and then. However, she refused to move out of the flat that we shared as joint tenants, so the two of us were now living together in a horrible atmosphere. I no longer wanted anything to do with her, but she refused to get out and go her separate way. It felt as if a complete stranger had suddenly invaded my living space, so I tried to stay out of the flat as much as possible, since I could no longer trust her to tell me the truth about anything.

December 1989. I bought a last-minute return air ticket to The Gambia for £199 and spent three weeks there, enjoying a fascinating and restful time, lazing in the sun on a beautiful sandy beach. The holiday proved to be the ideal antidote to both the pressures of the KISS FM licence application [see blog] and the continuing antagonism I was suffering from my former girlfriend, who was still refusing to move out of our flat.

Blearily reaching home, I noticed that the flat’s front door no longer seemed to have a curtain across the inside of its window. I turned the key, went inside, and realised that many other things were missing as well. In the kitchen, the wooden dining table had vanished, the saucepan stand and vegetable rack had gone, and there was very little cutlery to be found. There was a note in my former girlfriend’s handwriting that I did not need to read to understand what had happened. She had finally left the flat during the three weeks I had been away, but she had taken much of the contents of our home with her.

I cautiously opened the door to the spare room, to find that shelf units, a filing cabinet and a writing desk had gone. In the bedroom, the double bed was still there, probably because it was too large to remove easily as I had assembled it within the room. More shelving had gone and two bedside tables were no longer there. I was mightily relieved to find that my stereo system and record collection looked untouched. Then, opening the door to the living room, I was amazed to find that the entire room had been totally stripped bare. There was no longer a carpet, curtains or furniture – not even a lampshade. The room was completely empty, the only remaining fittings being the curtain track and a bare light bulb swinging from the ceiling in the centre of the room.

I was far too tired after the long journey, and too pleased with my restful holiday, to immediately become angry about the situation. This flat had been the first unfurnished rented accommodation I had taken in London, and I had invested all my savings in redecorating the place and purchasing all its contents. For the first few months living there, my lack of funds had left the place almost bare and I had slept on a mattress on uncarpeted floorboards. Now, most of the household items I had built up over the last few years had gone. I returned to the kitchen and decided to read the note from my former girlfriend. It started: “I have moved out. Things that were jointly purchased, divided as follows ...” Then it listed several household items. However, the list bore little relation to the items that had disappeared from the flat, and the note quickly became irrational and bitter: “I have taken the kitchen table since you always wanted to chuck it out.” Predictably, she had not left me either a forwarding address or phone number.

There was no fresh milk in the flat which might have enabled me to find solace in a much-needed cup of tea, so I crawled into bed, tried to forget about the loss of so many of the flat’s contents, and fell asleep. It was late at night, already early Saturday morning, and I realised that I would have to spend the next day sorting out exactly what I had lost and what I was going to do about the situation.

It was only just daylight when I suddenly realised that the phone was ringing. It seemed to take me ages to drag my weary body out of bed, as the phone continued to ring long and hard. Who on earth would want to phone me at this early hour on a Saturday morning [see blog]? I toyed with the notion that it might be my former girlfriend, who seemed determined to inflict as much hurt on me as possible, despite our relationship having ended abruptly through her own infidelity and lies.

The first thing I needed to do was to secure the flat properly, since my former girlfriend still had two sets of keys for the front door. The last thing I wanted her to do was to return while I was out and remove anything further that might take her fancy. Unfortunately, opening the door to the hallway cupboard, I found that all the useful household tools had already gone with her. There was no ladder, no iron, no ironing board, no painting implements and, most importantly, no screwdrivers, chisels, hacksaws or drill.

That day, and during the months that followed, I experienced the same disappointment on many occasions when I looked around the flat for things I used to own. Just when I needed a particular implement for some household maintenance or repair job, I would find it missing and have to buy a replacement at the local hardware shop. To add insult to injury, my former girlfriend had even taken the £24 do-it-yourself manual we had purchased to help us maintain the flat.

That Saturday, once I had purchased a new set of screwdrivers, I set about removing and replacing the front door locks to the flat. My next-door neighbour emerged to find out what was necessitating all the hammering and chiselling on a Saturday morning. I explained that my former girlfriend had removed much of the flat’s contents while I had been away. He told me he had seen her and some helpers spend the better part of a day shifting everything down four flights of stairs and into a large van parked outside. To him, it had simply looked as if she was moving out. Of course, he had had no idea who owned most of the goods that were being carried away.

January 1990. After my former girlfriend moved out of the flat we had shared, I now had to meet the monthly rent payment of £280 by myself. She had also left me several bills to settle – the quarterly telephone bill now due was £138, the highest amount I had ever had to pay, and the quarterly electric bill of £66 was also due. I owed £572 Income Tax to Inland Revenue for the 1987/88 tax year, and my season ticket for daily train travel to the KISS FM office in Finsbury Park was costing me £68 a month.

During the previous month, I had been forced to spend considerable sums replacing necessary household items that had disappeared along with my former girlfriend. A kitchen table, crockery, cutlery, an iron, an ironing board, lampshades and curtains were amongst the items I had already bought. The living room was still completely bare, exactly as my ex-partner had left it. Until now, I had had neither the time nor the money to even start replacing its former contents. If I was now not going to be paid at all for my work for KISS FM in January, another broken promise, I would certainly not have the means to buy the remaining household essentials.

[Excerpts from ‘KISS FM: From Radical Radio To Big Business: The Inside Story Of A London Pirate Radio Station’s Path To Success’ by Grant Goddard, Radio Books, 2011, 528 pages]

POSTSCRIPT:

Weeks later, I received a letter from my landlord concerning its planned renovations to the block of flats. I went into what remained of my home office to check the appropriate suspended file in my four-drawer filing cabinet, only to find it was empty. My girlfriend must have taken the rental contract with her. But why? It was I who had found the flat advertised in the ‘Willesden Chronicle’, I who had made an appointment with the landlord, I who had been interviewed, I who had provided references and I who had signed the contract. Just when I needed to check the fine print of MY document, it had been stolen away.

One Saturday, I walked into a record shop in Harrow and found my former girlfriend there, casually checking out albums. Although I remained so angry about her behaviour that I could have balled her out, I realised that my immediate priority must be to respond appropriately to the landlord’s letter. I asked her why she had stolen the rental contract, explained that I needed it for urgent correspondence with the landlord and asked her to return it. She refused point blank. All I could do was storm off.

One weekday evening, I returned from work by London Underground and, alighting at West Harrow station, I spied my former girlfriend disembark from the same train ahead of me on the platform. I followed her at a distance as she walked out the station and entered the front door of a large Georgian terraced house on Vaughan Road only a short distance away. It made me wonder if her secret plan all along had been to persuade her wealthy parents to buy this house for her and her new teenage lover so that she could then fill it with the household items stolen from the flat we had shared. She seemed to have been leading like a gypsy queen in a fairytale.

For a very long time, her betrayal shook my trust in people to the foundation. Neither was this the first such occasion. After a similarly lengthy relationship during my early 20’s in Durham, my then girlfriend had woken up one morning and announced unexpectedly and without explanation that she would be moving out of our shared home [see blog]. You begin to question whether there must be something wrong with you when your partners repeatedly and unexpectedly desert you.

The scarily personal aspect of my latest girlfriend’s actions was that their cruelty copied so precisely the blueprint of betrayal and inexplicably hateful revenge inflicted upon me by my own father seventeen years previously. He had walked out on his family when I was fourteen to shack up with a teenage girlfriend, leaving my mother to raise three children on her own [see blog]. Not only did he sever all links with his offspring, he then refused to pay for our upkeep and celebrated my sixteenth birthday by convincing Farnham court that day that my maintenance payment be reduced to £1 per year [see blog]. Not only did he starve his family financially, he repeatedly broke into our home and took away almost everything we owned [see blog]. Until the day he died, I never forgave him for stealing my treasured vinyl records purchased with pocket money. You try and recover from such a betrayal … and then the same thing happens all over again.

Girl, there's a star in the book of liars by your name.

[First published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/12/i-did-not-think-girl-could-be-so-cruel.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Letter from Cambodia - munching mince pies by the Mekong : 2004 : BBC World Service Trust, Phnom Penh

 Dear John

Since we last spoke before Xmas, I have made a move …. to Phnom Penh. I am writing this sitting on a hotel balcony overlooking the Mekong River. How did this happen? Nearly two years ago, when I was living in Brighton, I was interviewed by the BBC World Service Trust for a job managing their projects in Africa and Asia. I didn’t get the job but they said they would get back to me if something suitable came up. I heard nothing more until the week before Xmas, when a message was left on my voicemail asking me to call the BBC office about a possible consultancy job in the New Year. Apparently, they had contacted Owen [Leach, former colleague at Star TV India and Metromedia International Inc.] to track down where I was now, he had told them about my job at the Radio Authority, which they found was closed, so they tried Ofcom. They wanted me to go to Cambodia as early as possible in 2004 to support their project there that was partnered with three Phnom Penh radio stations. Could I spare two or three months? [see blog]

Only a week earlier, my line manager at Ofcom (who too transferred from the Radio Authority) had told me that I would have no work to do during the first quarter of the year and that “there is nothing for you to contribute to” with regard to Ofcom’s strategic review of the whole radio licensing process. So I asked if I could take unpaid leave to do the BBC work. My request was refused. I asked if I could take paid leave to do the work, since I had eight weeks of holiday accrued that had to be taken by year-end 2004. My request was refused. Suddenly, I was told that there were essential tasks that I would be needed to work upon during the first quarter of the year. I was also told that, when the radio licensing regime restarted in the second quarter, it would be essential for me to be there. So when could I take the vacation to which I was entitled? I received no answer. I thought long and hard about the options open to me. I had applied for all sorts of jobs internally with Ofcom that were more suited to my skills (in departments dealing with audience research, market intelligence, policy & strategy), but no one had offered me anything. The prospect of spending at least three months sitting at my desk doing nothing (just like my job at the Radio Authority) whilst the new Ofcom radio licensing strategy was being decided by others did not appeal to me. I had already spent a year doing almost nothing. So I quit. [see blog]

A week later, I was heading for Cambodia. I arrived here on Tuesday of last week without even had a meeting with the BBC World Service in London. They sent me the airline tickets, a contract and a certificate of health insurance. I am here initially for two months, but which is likely to be extended to three months. They are paying for my hotel bill at a very nice, newly built ‘boutique’ hotel owned by two French businessmen. My room is huge. The hotel has wireless internet access and a modern restaurant. They have contracted me as a consultant (their first, so the contract is numbered WST 001), but the manager in London says that, if the work is successful, I should get further work out of the BBC. He has been very honest and admitted that I am helping them out of a large hole. The project is paid for by the UK government Department for International Development (DfID) who want results by their year-end this April before they will renew funding for 2004/5. My job is to produce the required results. The pay isn’t great (£750/week + US$100/week pocket money) which they have admitted, but they say they are eking it out of the existing budget, as a consultant was not budgeted for.

The BBC set up an office here last year (there is no BBC Phnom Penh correspondent) which now employs around 40 people. It is in a beautiful colonial villa next door to the British Embassy. It has everything you could want – drivers, computers, mobile phones, photocopiers, etc and the essential air conditioning. There are several UK staff here – the project manager is an ex-‘Panorama’ filmmaker, the head of radio is an ex-World Service studio manager, the head of TV was executive producer of ‘EastEnders’. I had no briefing before I left as to what I was expected to do here, so I have spent this weekend reading all the BBC documents about the project, and now have a better idea. The BBC is shifting its strategy from simply making the odd programme or series to be broadcast in developing countries towards a more holistic approach of training staff of existing radio stations in developing markets (i.e. Cambodia) to be market leaders. But the BBC doesn’t have any staff who can do that because existing staff are used to having huge BBC resources available to them to achieve even simple objectives. Small-scale cheap commercial radio is simply not their forte. Even a simple phone-in, in BBC terms, is thought to need a staff of at least 5 full-time people for a single weekly show. The BBC has signed contracts with three stations here to deliver a mixture of pre-recorded spots, phone-in shows and management training (combined with hardware purchase) that will make these stations market leaders. There are 18 stations in Phnom Penh. My job is the training. Money is almost no object. DfID has given the BBC £3.3m for 3 years, not only for radio but also for the production of a two episode/week soap for TV. [see blog]

Phnom Penh isn’t as basic as I expected. True, there is no public transport or taxis, but every fifth vehicle is a 4-wheel drive and there are internet cafes on every corner. Although it’s the winter, it is very hot and dusty here, particularly in the middle of the day when the city closes down for a daily two-hour siesta. There are fewer shops than India and no corner convenience stores. I have just found the nearest supermarket to my hotel this morning, which is almost a mile away, but was surprised to find it took credit cards. There are no ATM’s in Cambodia. Everything is denominated here in US dollars as the local currency is worthless. The city is filled with Westerners as there are so many aid projects here of one sort or another. There is a daily English-language newspaper and an English radio station (‘Love FM’), despite the fact that very few Cambodians speak English. All shop signs and road signs are in Khmer and English because of the sheer number of aid workers here. The city is laid out in the Parisian style by the French with wide boulevards (though the traffic travels in both directions on both sides of the street) and vast gardens that stretch down to the river. Lots of Buddhist temples everywhere. Not so much outright poverty as Mumbai, but then Phnom Penh is a small city and there is no apparent rural-to-urban drift. Most people that survived Pol Pot lived in the countryside and stayed there. [see blog]

Anyway, enough of me. Let me know how things are going. I have intermittent wireless internet access at the hotel, and more reliable internet access at the office. If your itinerary passes this end of the world, please drop in. I’m sitting here eating mince pies (made in Australia) that I bought from the supermarket and thinking about ordering a pizza delivery tonight. Sometimes I wonder if I am really in Cambodia at all (although the endless karaoke phone-in shows on all radio stations remind me that I am not somewhere ‘normal’) [see blog]. Our only worry at the moment is that King Sihanouk has left for China to have a serious operation and, if he were not to survive, there is no succession plan in place and the likelihood of a people’s revolution because parliament has never been recalled since the last election. Oh, and the chicken flu that has arrived here Friday from Vietnam and Thailand. Apart from that, things are fine.

Yours, Grant

25 January 2004

[First published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/12/letter-from-cambodia-munching-mince.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Let your fingers do the walking … in the cash register : 1976-1978 : Kay, DSU Bookshop, Dunelm House, Durham University

 FIRST YEAR. I had landed in a ‘one-bookshop town’. The lone academic book retailer in Durham City was bizarrely named ‘SPCK’, aka the ‘Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge’ founded in 1698 by English clergyman Thomas Bray. Naturally, it was packed with books about religion. If you desired a tome documenting the life of Saint Cuthbert on the island of Lindisfarne, then Bob was definitely your uncle. However, if you wanted books to study more mundane contemporary subjects, you were dispatched to considerably shorter shelves at the rear of the premises or up on the first floor.

The Durham University economics department had given me the booklist for my first year. I rushed to SPCK the same day and found that none of the required books were in stock. Could I order them? I was told it would take at least three months for delivery, maybe longer. By then, I would be almost half way through my first year. The same booklist had been given to almost a hundred other freshers because first-year economics turned out to be a ‘unit’ that could be studied as a ‘minor’ alongside ‘major’ subjects. Out of the university’s population of four thousand, a hundred students must all have been chasing the same required materials. Despite this, SPCK staff had gazed at my list as if it was the first time they had seen anything like it.

I visited the university library on Palace Green, next to the hugely imposing cathedral, and looked through the dozens of well-thumbed index cards stored in banks of long drawers. Though multiple copies of the books I needed were catalogued, they all proved to be absent from the relevant Dewey Decimal shelves. I had to fill out handwritten triplicate forms to request they be reserved for me once they were returned to the library. When might that be? The librarian said it was impossible to tell because borrowers often kept books well beyond their return date and there was no way to force them back. Fines were imposed but students simply paid them in absentia of sanctions. Library staff had no suggestions about how I could obtain academic books compulsory for the subject I had arrived to study.

Then I recalled that, whilst attending the ‘Societies Day’ for freshers held in the concrete brutalist student union building, Dunelm House, I had noticed signs for a bookshop. I returned there and found at the end of a long corridor a large, high-ceiling room stacked with second-hand books. The economics section turned out to be small and useless. The shop’s stock bore no relation to academic need. It was merely a marketplace where students could sell books they no longer needed for a few pence. I browsed the other sections and stumbled across an unknown book from 1964 titled ‘Understanding Media’ by someone called Marshall McLuhan. It was the first academic book purchase that spoke to my passion for radio, broadcasting and media. However, having failed to discover a university offering such a degree course, I had had to instead choose ‘economics’ as it was my best subject at school. 

I took McLuhan’s book to the checkout where a tiny woman in her fifties checked the price on the inside cover and charged me. She took my cash and placed it on the little shelf above the drawer of her cash register, joining piles of coins already assembled in the same place. I asked for a receipt, as was my habit, but she said it was not possible. Not only did it appear strange that she had not put my cash in the cash register, but neither had she rung up my purchase. I understood straight away that her actions were, er, wrong. Having been required to help run my father’s business for a decade [see blog], I knew that every financial transaction had to be recorded on the ‘till roll’ of a cash register and then reconciled at the end of the day with the money in the drawer. The equation is: cash in till minus float must equal daily till roll. Many childhood evenings had been spent sat around our tiny kitchen table doing these precise tasks for the bookkeeping my mother brought home from her workplace [see blog].

During that first year in Durham, I revisited the Dunelm House bookshop dozens of times, never finding the economics books I sought, but secretly observing the same elderly shop manager when students either bought or sold books. She did occasionally ring up some of these transactions on her cash register, though the majority followed the pattern of my initial book purchase, neither rung up on the cash register, nor the money deposited within. Beside the till, I would see her write in biro the value of each covert transaction in a tiny notebook. These actions were all being accomplished in plain sight within a bustling shop. Evidently, nobody must ever have challenged her as to why she was operating such a system.

Maybe I am too observant for my own good, but it was self-evident to me that she was ‘on the take’. After the shop closed at the end of each day, all she had to do was total that day’s transactions written in her notebook and walk out with that same amount of cash, in the knowledge that the till roll would reconcile with the cash in the cash register. It was the simplest retail scam and, being the only person employed in the shop, the easiest to pull off. There were no debit card or credit card transactions to confuse the issue. What perplexed me was that nobody else had seemed to notice what she was doing day in day out.

I sailed through that first year using a ring binder of fulsome notes I had made at school for economics A-level and so passed the Durham exam in June without ever having found the requisite texts on my booklist. This was a testimony to the abilities of my school economics teacher, Mr Hodges [see blog]. However, I only just scraped a pass on my economic history paper, having opted not to study history at school because my brain proved unable to learn and recite the long lists of dates, names and locations that the subject required. My first year at Durham was immensely disappointing because I had learnt absolutely nothing that I did not already know about economics. Furthermore, my student life there had been nothing like I had anticipated a university would be.

After the end of the final term, I remained in Durham a few weeks to help the student editor of the 1977 Durham Student Handbook, Tony Jenkins, who had asked me to prepare articles for inclusion in the publication, ready to be sent for printing at City Printers in nearby Chester-Le-Street. Just as I was about to leave Durham to start my regular holiday job working in the bowels of the Associated Examining Board office in Aldershot, I received via internal mail the carbon copies of request slips I had filled out eight months earlier at the university library, informing me that the course books I had requested had finally been returned. I failed to comprehend how a Durham undergraduate was meant to study and learn if they were unable to obtain the necessary books.

SECOND YEAR. Durham had been the only university not offering a student radio station to which I had applied through UCCA. Despite having received unconditional offers from Warwick, Lancaster, Keele and Loughborough, I chose Durham because I was told it had a better ‘reputation’ for future job prospects. To console myself at its lack of opportunities to practice radio, at the start of my first year I had volunteered at the student newspaper ‘Palatinate’, despite having never previously written anything for publication. I enjoyed working in its small office in Dunelm House, though it had proven a culture shock to be surrounded by loud, brash upper-class students who dominated the editorial team [see blog]. My skills were uniquely practical because, unlike my posh peers, I could already type copy quickly and accurately on an IBM Golfball typewriter, plus I had experience in design and layout from working on my father's architectural plans. When the newspaper editor post was advertised in my third term, I stood for election but was terribly disappointed at the student council meeting that my candidacy was not supported by outgoing incumbent George Alagiah. Evidently, I did not possess the ‘right stuff’ that oozed from him and his posh team. Having invested so much time and skills within the student publication, I made the difficult decision to walk away entirely.

Instead, from the beginning of my second year, I volunteered to attend the Finance Committee of Durham Students’ Union [DSU] where I was soon appointed ‘secretary’, taking minutes of weekly meetings and preparing its agendas. The committee was chaired by Kate Foster, the Union’s full-time sabbatical ‘Deputy President (Finance)’ with whom I quickly developed a good working relationship. Foster was a friendly, quietly confident introvert, the opposite of the ‘media types’ who had dominated the student newspaper. My knowledge of accounts and business gained from working for my parents from such an early age proved relevant and useful in understanding the Union’s financial issues. Unexpectedly, none of my first-hand knowledge of real-world finance was being developed by the highly theoretical and dull economics course I was studying [see blog]. Worse for my academic success, I had no better luck in obtaining the requisite books cited by the second-year reading list than I had experienced in my initial year.

In the third term of my second year, I shared my long-held observations about the practices in the Student Union’s second-hand bookshop with Foster, who was ultimately responsible for ‘DSU Services’. We both stood in the bookshop and observed the woman at the till openly taking money from students but not ringing it up on the cash register. Kay must have been so used to operating in this way that she had no qualms about anybody observing her ‘skimming’ of the shop’s revenues. Foster agreed that this employee’s behaviour was totally unacceptable. After questioning, the woman was sacked immediately. Until a replacement manager could be appointed, the bookshop was manned/womaned by student volunteers.

I felt no guilt about my role in getting Kay sacked. I had no qualms about this elderly woman losing her job. Yes, the majority of Durham University students she had served in the bookshop came from families that probably had more money than sense. But Kay was no ‘Robin Hood’ character redistributing her customers’ wealth to the poor. She had stolen the Student Union’s earnings for herself. The amounts might have appeared minor, compared to most middle- and upper-class white-collar crimes which, ironically, were more likely to have been committed by the families of her customers. But during the years that she worked in this job, she must have accumulated significant sums tax-free. Not enough to buy a yacht, certainly, but sufficient to take some nice vacations and purchase new three-piece suites.

Since that day when, at twenty, I was involved in my first sacking (of a woman who would have been almost three times my age), one mystery has remained unsolved in my mind. Though I never learnt when the Union’s bookshop first opened, I do know that the Dunelm House building opened in 1966 (with a concert by the Thelonius Monk Quartet to whose music, by remarkable coincidence, I am listening whilst writing this). It appeared to me that Kay might have worked alone in that bookshop for at least a decade. How many students had passed through that shop during that time. Tens of thousands? How many ‘Deputy President (Finance)’ officers before Kate Foster had managed Kay’s employment during all those years. At least ten? Yet none of those students who bought or sold a book and must have witnessed what Kay was doing at her cash register ever seemed to conclude that something inherently ‘wrong’ and ‘unlawful’ was taking place?

Only after having arrived at Durham did I discover that 95% of its students had come from private schools. My new environment where I was surrounded by ‘affluent’ people was a shock for which I had not been prepared. They behaved like nothing I had seen before. They already seemed to know each other, they moved in ‘brigades’ that were named things like ‘green wellies’, ‘god squad’ and ‘rah-rahs’ and they ignored anyone who was evidently not ‘one of them’. You would never have found any of these privileged offspring working behind the cash register of a shop as Kay had done for years. Neither did they feel the need to understand how accounts or business functioned. Their families employed accountants to handle such grunt work, even as some still employed servants in their grand homes. None of them apparently had the faintest notion that the working class ‘townie’ taking their cash in the Dunelm House bookshop was so obviously stealing part of it.

THEN & NOW. I am reminded of a more recent incident from 2022 when then UK prime minister Rishi Sunak staged a public relations stunt at a petrol station where he filled his car with petrol. He attempted to pay at the cash desk by placing his debit card under the barcode reader, instead of the payment reader, evidently having never previously made a ‘contactless’ payment. Then it transpired that the modest red Kia car he had filled with petrol was not his but belonged to an employee of the petrol station. Had he even ever filled his own (unseen) luxury car with petrol before? As ever, the privileged betray themselves by attempting to demonstrate mundane tasks they have never HAD to do themselves.

It might be imagined that my own experience of class divergence at Durham University half a century ago must belong to a bygone era. Surely, ‘things’ have moved on since then? Mmmmmm. But perhaps it has always been, and will always be, this way. The privileged class has always run Britain, has always controlled opportunities for themselves and they are hardly going to sacrifice glittering outcomes to which they feel entitled to help the rest of us who have no access or right to their immense resources and social connections. We only inhabit their world on sufferance. Durham has always been a ‘finishing school’ for posh kids not clever enough to get into Oxbridge, where they can continue the ‘fun’ they enjoyed at their private schools, find a suitable wife from their own class and bag a lucrative job as a barrister, politician, newspaper editor or some such [see blog].

Back in 1968, a letter from Ian S White of Durham’s (all-male) Grey College was published in the student newspaper Palatinate under the heading ‘Elitist Students?’ It criticised “the elitism of so many students, the feeling that they are somehow special and that they must not therefore associate with the ‘townies’. […] At the moment, the will, on the part of the University, does not seem to be present.”

That ‘will’ for change within the university was always a pipe dream. From the time in 1963 when Durham demerged from Newcastle University, it was purposefully designed “to provide for the North of England a Collegiate University, one in which the undergraduate experience would be essentially the same, though simpler (and less expensive) than that afforded by Oxford and Cambridge in the South.” This strategy was doggedly pursued from 1963 until his death in 1984 by ex-Army university registrar Ian Graham who “sought out also a large number [of students] whose names were known to him through his acquaintances in the schools or among previous generations of students.” Graham excelled at populating ‘his’ university with this old (private) school tie/old boy network that would eventually span generations of Britain’s most elite and privileged dynasties. [see blog]

What about after 1984? Whilst seeking a photo online of the DSU bookshop, I accidentally stumbled across a 2024 article in Palatinate by English student Stella Fenwick:

“When I arrived in Durham, I was faced with the fact that, for half of the year, this little northern city is transformed into a cacophony of London accents, and vastly different educational backgrounds compared to anyone I had met before. […] Though we may relish the prestige of being second to Oxbridge, we must confront the disproportionate number of privately-educated students accepted to these universities. […] We are promised by novels and shows that we will ‘find ourselves’ at university, but for many this moment never comes. The broken promise, which we believe is broken only by ourselves, leaves us feeling inferior to the people that have experienced Durham in the Instagram-able, Oxford-like way.”

It is simultaneously so sad and so outrageous that the experience of ‘higher education’ for us non-privileged students, who should benefit from it the most, still remains tainted at Durham by the behaviours and attitudes of the privileged elite who have always overwhelmingly dominated university cohorts.

I imagine that, had I not intervened, Kay might have continued working in that bookshop and stealing cash until the day she dropped dead … impervious because, amazingly, both her student managers and her student clientele had absolutely no clue how the day-to-day world of commerce functions below their own rarefied strata of British society.

[First published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/11/let-your-fingers-do-walking-in-cash.html ]

[grantgoddard]

New upstarts clobber complacent commercial radio industry two-decade market monopoly : 1973-2005 : Independent Local Radio, UK

 The UK commercial radio industry has grown dramatically since the first station launched in 1973. The history of the industry can usefully be divided into two chapters:

1.  1973 to 1990

At the beginning of this period, local commercial radio stations were opened only in the UK’s biggest cities and then, in the 1980's, new stations were launched in smaller cities and in largely rural counties. The regime was characterised by the word 'monopoly', as only one commercial station was licensed in each location (London was the only exception, with two stations licensed with very different formats). Each station broadcast its programmes simultaneously on the AM and FM wavebands, enabling it to reach the maximum possible audience in its coverage area. Each station’s success depended upon its ability to attract listeners away from national and local BBC stations, and its ability to attract advertising to the new radio medium and away from competitors such as the local press and regional television.

Listening figures to local commercial stations were generally very high. They were new, exciting and offered something more local and less stuffy than BBC stations. Because each local station was a separate local company, run by a local Board and financed by local shareholders, each station cultivated its 'localness' to the maximum in order to attract listeners. London’s 'Capital Radio' was a prime example of the success such a strategy could have. Using the slogan 'In Tune With London', every day the station used its converted red double-decker bus to visit a different London location, handing out stickers and leaflets, as well as offering listeners the opportunity to meet presenters and request songs. These 'personal contact' strategies paid enormous dividends and generated substantial loyalty between listeners and their local station. By the 1980's, they were supplemented by community outreach projects and charity fundraising marathons. 'Capital Radio' had a JobCentre branch and a flat share information service in its foyer [see blog], which became young Londoners’ first means of finding accommodation in the city.

By the end of the 1980's, local commercial radio was a big success with listeners and had developed a loyal following across two generations of listeners, giving it substantial audience figures across a wide variety of ages. Up and down the country was a range of fiercely individualistic, quirky stations, each with their own name, each with their own 'star' presenters, and each adopting their own idiosyncratic music format. By now, each had woven itself into the fabric of its community and was as much a part of local life as the town’s football team or the local bakery chain.

The one aspect of local commercial radio that proved problematic was stations’ inability to surpass their 2% share of total UK advertising expenditure. This percentage stubbornly refused to grow, even during times of an advertising boom and radio became known within the advertising industry as the '2% medium'. It was viewed as an 'extra' to be added to media campaign plans in times of boom, but quickly struck off when the economy was not so good. As a result, advertising revenues fluctuated enormously during downturns in the economic cycle and one local station was even forced into liquidation.

Radio’s main problems in attracting national advertising were:

• Even all the stations added together did not cover the whole UK

• Because each station was independently owned, buying a campaign on all existing stations was a labour-intensive task

• Station advertising rates and packages varied hugely, more dependent upon stations’ ability to extract such prices from local advertisers than any standard cost per thousand

• Station formats varied as much as their names, so that some stations delivered considerably older or more female-orientated audiences than others.

Because national advertising was so problematic, the majority of advertising sold on local commercial stations was derived from local businesses. By the late 1980's, local radio had proved its effectiveness at marketing local products to local listeners, and a bond had been forged between local business owners and the local sales teams of stations that was the economic lifeline of these broadcasters.

At the same time, by the late 1980's, complacency started to infiltrate local radio that resulted directly from stations’ lack of competition for listeners and lack of competition for local advertisers. Stations started to work less hard than they used to in order to please both their audience and their local business community. The government’s regulator released stations from having to fulfil many of their community obligations. Instead of seeing that work as an intrinsic part of their loyalty-building strategy, stations such as 'Capital Radio' closed their Community Department overnight [see blog]. At the same time, stations had their eye on merging with nearby stations to increase profitability, or arranging stock market flotations to generate capital for acquisitions. Several stations diversified into all sorts of businesses from theatres to restaurants, seeing themselves as 'entertainment' rather than purely 'radio' companies. In the 1980's, anything that involved making money seemed a good idea.

For the first time in its history, the late 1980's saw 'Capital Radio' suffering declining audiences and, like other local commercial stations, it had no idea what to do about the problem. It had only ever competed against the BBC for audiences and, only then, back in its very early days. Since then, it had always taken its audience for granted and simply presumed that listeners would never turn to any other station. All the local stations still enjoyed a monopoly over commercial radio advertising in their patch. It was something they felt they had a right to. The 1980's economy was booming. Everyone was getting rich quick.

2.  1990 to now

The existing radio stations received their first major shock when the regulator suddenly licensed a range of 'incremental' stations in areas that already had existing local stations. This was the first time that the so-called 'heritage' stations had ever faced competition from newcomers. For example, in London, 'Capital Radio' lost audience straight away to 'Melody Radio' (targeting older people), 'KISS FM' (young people), 'Jazz FM' (wealthy middle-aged people) and 'Choice FM' (the Afro-Caribbean community). Suddenly, the audience that 'Capital' had taken for granted for so long was deserting it in droves for stations that sounded new, fresh, innovative and in touch with London, something that 'Capital' had done less and less of in recent years.

The second shock came when the regulator licensed three national commercial radio stations, a full thirty years after local commercial stations had been introduced. The industry had been arguing for years that it could never break through the 2% barrier (of all advertising spend) unless businesses and agencies were able to offer clients a proper 'national' opportunity to book a single campaign across the whole UK. New national commercial stations could offer such a deal and give the existing local radio stations a chance to share in radio’s enhanced visibility. As a compromise, the new stations were deliberately introduced in such a way so as not to impact local commercial radio audiences too greatly. The national 'popular music' station was to be confined to the poor-quality AM waveband, while only a minority-interest music station would be allowed the coveted national FM slot.

The third shock came when, having seen the success achieved by some of the specialist music stations that were part of the 'incremental' experiment, the regulator decided to roll out a programme of many more new local stations in more areas with existing 'heritage' stations. Thus, the 1990's heralded the biggest and fastest expansion of radio stations the UK had ever seen, immediately after a period of relatively slow industry growth in the 1980's. The shock of moving from a stagnant period of complacency to suddenly being immersed in a highly competitive situation where they had to fight for both listeners and advertisers proved a wake-up call for many local stations. What followed still has a considerable impact on the radio landscape of today. The radio industry underwent a fundamental re-structuring that included:

a.   The emergence of radio groups

A limited amount of consolidation had occurred during the 1980's, largely based on regional geography, whereby groups were formed from the combination of several local stations in a region (i.e. Midlands Radio Group Ltd, Suffolk Group Radio Ltd). As early as 1985, GWR Radio Ltd started a series of acquisitions based on the simple motivation that 'big is better' and the trend continued throughout the 1990's with stations bought and sold for greater and greater sums of money.

b.   The entry of media groups

Starting in 1990, large cross-media groups such as EMAP plc, Virgin Group Ltd and Chrysalis plc bought their way into the radio industry, acquiring a mix of heritage stations and newly launched stations. This substantially increased the sale prices of local stations.

c.   National advertising

The launch of the three national radio stations had the desired effect of attracting national advertisers and agency media buyers to radio for the first time. With local stations now consolidated into fewer groups, it became easier to buy campaigns through a single selling point to run on stations across a region or regions. Both the national and local stations benefited from the influx of national revenues.

d.   Cost cutting

In an industry where costs are mostly 'fixed costs' and revenues are almost infinitely 'variable', GWR Group pioneered the strategy of cutting costs to the bone at the many stations it acquired. According to GWR CEO Ralph Bernard: “It became very evident that if you don’t have size, you don’t have the ability to do things and you are forever trying to find the money to fix leaks, literally.” GWR’s policy of implementing economies of scale across its stations led to the centralisation of many tasks.

e.   Local advertising

As stations became incorporated within larger and groups, national advertising became of more and more importance to their owners. The bedrock of local radio, local advertisers, soon became serviced by regional rather than local sales teams, until eventually they were serviced hardly at all from a national sales office. As a result, local advertising revenues became less and less important to groups that were growing bigger and bigger.

f.   London agencies

With the rise of youth brands in the marketplace, and the evident success of London youth station 'KISS FM' [see blog] in creating a commercial focus for a demographic that had never before been served by commercial radio, London advertising agencies suddenly wanted to buy campaigns on stations that delivered 15- to 34-year-olds. Faced with both local and national competition for audiences and revenues for the first time, local heritage stations suddenly started chasing a younger audience. As a result, the middle-aged audience that had been loyal to their local commercial stations for many years started to drift away (mainly to 'BBC Radio Two'), alienated by stations playing too much dance and rap music.

g.   'BBC Radio One'

Although the turn of the 1990's had been a scary time for local heritage stations as they suddenly faced competition in their own areas from competing commercial stations for the first time, they were all helped immeasurably by the BBC’s decision to change drastically the programming of its most popular station, 'Radio One'. Until then, this station had a remarkably large audience of diverse ages that overshadowed local commercial stations in most regions of the country. As a direct result of the BBC’s bizarre volte-face, between 1992 and 1994 five million listeners left 'Radio One' and most sought refuge in local commercial radio. These latter stations’ audiences suddenly boomed and they became the most listened to in their markets, without having to change or do anything different. The BBC had unintentionally saved their backsides.

h.   Lack of investment

With audiences growing hugely because of the demise of 'BBC Radio One'; with revenues booming because of the ability to sell national advertising on larger and larger groups of stations; and with stock market values of radio groups buoyed by the industry’s breakout from its former position as the '2% medium', group owners were quick to redistribute their substantial profits to shareholders. After a relatively lean period in the 1980's, 'radio' was suddenly riding on a 'high' in the financial community. Ignoring the fact that their product had only become popular as a haven of last resort for listeners fleeing 'Radio One', group owners invested almost none of their lucky profits back into the development, improvement or update of their product.

i.   Networked programmes

Instead, station owners sought ways to cut even further the fixed costs of their station operations. Led by GWR Group plc, groups persuaded the regulator to let them network some programmes from a central production studio, instead of each of their stations producing all of its own content. In a lengthy process of attrition, by bullying a regulatory agency that lacked any long-term strategic plan for the industry, group owners were allowed piece by piece to extract the 'localness' from their local stations. Local voices, local station names, local celebrities, local music, local content and local news all became sidetracked or dispensed with by many group-owned stations.

j.   The rise of brands

Led by EMAP plc, which championed the notion that nationally recognisable brands were preferable to local identities, many local radio stations were stripped of the very characteristics that had made them 'local' in the first place. In an attempt to make their product controlled, homogenous and universal, the largest radio groups invested considerable sums in state-of-the-art technology that enabled stations up and down the country to be playing exactly the same record at exactly the same time, appended at the end of the song by a jingle that said 'Coventry' or 'Newcastle' as appropriate, depending upon the station’s location.

k.   Format convergence

Although the listener is now offered a considerably wider choice of commercial radio stations in most local markets than was the case in the 1980's, the industry is plagued with competitors who are all trying to move towards the same middle ground [see blog]. In yet another war of attrition that the regulator has lost again and again, many stations have stretched the definition of their prescribed programme formats to (and often beyond) their limits. This has created a situation where stations that are (by the regulator’s definition) meant to be complementary are in fact found to be competing for the same audience demographic and for the same advertisers in the very same market, by playing exactly the same music. This leads to substantial market 'cannibalisation' whereby competitors merely steal audience from each other, rather than attract listeners from the biggest competitor, the BBC.

l.   The decline of the music industry

Commercial radio in the UK, modelled on 'BBC Radio One', has always relied upon the universal popularity of 'popular music' to be the cornerstone of its programmes’ appeal. Until around 1990, almost everyone in the UK had a common notion of what a 'pop hit' was. But from the time that 'Radio One' refused to play the first 'house music' record that reached Number One in the singles chart, it was obvious that such communal experiences were on their way out. The subsequent rise of 'dance' music amongst young people polarised popular music and led to a substantially fractured music market. Now, the market for singles is all but dead, CD sales are at an all-time low, and the cult of 'celebrity' has replaced the cult of 'pop stars'. Frankly, commercial radio stations have almost no idea any more what music they should play to attract listeners.

[Excerpt from 'A Brief History Of United Kingdom Commercial Radio & A Strategy To Create Genuinely Local Radio', Grant Goddard, 2005, 33 pages]

[First blog published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/10/new-upstarts-clobber-complacent.html ]

[grantgoddard]

He’s the queen of snubs : 1989-1991 : Gordon McNamee, KISS 100 FM, London

September 1989. The other information I needed was a copy of the finished KISS FM application form from the last bid [for a London FM commercial radio licence - see blog], and a copy of the huge appendix that had accompanied it. [Pirate radio station co-founder Gordon] McNamee pulled out his own private copies from a shelf unit alongside his desk, and told me that my need for these last remaining copies of the documents was greater than his at that moment in time. I took both documents and started flicking through them on the train journey home, hoping they might offer me some inspiration.

The application looked pristine, as if it had been completely untouched. Then I came across the page that outlined KISS FM’s intended staff structure, showing each job in the company and how much it would be paid. In pencil, McNamee had scribbled out two of the station’s seventy-seven staff positions. One was the programme director, a position created specifically for [application co-ordinator] Dave Cash, but which was no longer required since he had dropped out of the bid. That change was understandable. However, the other post McNamee had crossed out was the station’s programme controller, the job for which I had been earmarked. No new posts had been added to the diagram, no jobs had been re-titled and no other amendments had been made. It was clear that, in the new scheme, Dave Cash and I no longer held positions within the company. These changes left KISS FM’s head of music, Lindsay Wesker, reporting directly to McNamee, who now acted as both the company’s managing director and programme director.

I was shocked to have found out accidentally that I seemed already to have been ousted from the KISS FM master plan. What should I do? During the weeks and months that followed, McNamee made no mention of this revised staffing structure, so I started to forget about its implications. Maybe these had been mere doodlings that McNamee had made immediately after the failure of the first licence application. I had no idea.

It was only much, much later I would learn that these scribbles held far more significance for my future than ever I could have imagined at the time.

May 1990. [McNamee’s personal assistant] Rosee Laurence had been busy for weeks, organising a surprise thirtieth birthday party for McNamee at Flynns nightclub in London’s West End. She had printed and distributed specially printed invitation cards to everyone involved in KISS FM and to the media contacts the station had built up over five years. Laurence asked me if I would make a speech at the event, trumpeting McNamee’s successes and congratulating him on behalf of everyone involved in the station. I was very reticent as I had always hated making public speeches. However, Laurence insisted that I should make the speech, though she agreed that I could share the task with KISS FM DJ Dean Savonne, who was one of McNamee’s oldest friends.

On the evening of 10 May 1990, several hundred people gathered inside Flynns club to see McNamee arrive in the company of his parents, who had pretended they were taking him out for a meal to celebrate his birthday. As he was shepherded through the front door, the whole room burst into a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday,’ followed by tribute speeches from Savonne and me, along with a brief introduction by KISS FM financial director Martin Strivens. The whole event was rather flamboyant, worsened by McNamee’s expression of blank surprise at the huge welcome he had been given. Mentorn Films was present with cameras and floodlights to commit the whole event to videotape for inclusion in the documentary about KISS FM. This made the evening much more of a media spectacle than a private birthday celebration.

That evening, and the next day in the office, it was obvious that McNamee was not at all pleased by Laurence’s organisation of the surprise event. He showed no gratitude and acted as grumpily as he had ever done in our company. I had given him a pair of solid silver cufflinks as a birthday present, though he had hardly even thanked me for the most expensive gift I had ever bought for anyone. The only thing that seemed to concern him was Mentorn’s filming of the event [for a Channel 4 TV documentary]. His mood did not improve until he had persuaded the company to agree not to use any footage from that evening in its documentary. It appeared that, because McNamee had been unable to rehearse his performance for the surprise birthday party, he did not want to be seen on film as he really was – a moody, often grumpy, man who seemed to like to feel in control of people around him and who liked to appear sufficiently powerful to make them jump to his commands.

September 1990. Eight days after KISS FM’s arrival on the airwaves [having won a London radio licence on its second attempt - see blog], the station staged a huge public launch party in the form of a daytime open-air concert on Highbury Fields, only a few hundred metres away from the Holloway Road office. Although publicity for this event had initially been very slow, by the beginning of the month the event had gathered a momentum that seemed impossible to stop. Naturally, the station had promoted the concert extensively on-air during its first week, and new acts were being added to the all-star line-up on a daily basis.

Driving into work that Sunday morning, my journey came to a standstill a mile from the office. Cars had already been parked along the roads leading to the event, and the pavements were jammed with people walking to the event. It took me an hour to travel the final mile to the radio station, a distance that usually only took a matter of minutes, even in the weekday rush hour. Suddenly, it was brought home to me very clearly how enormous KISS FM’s listenership must be after only a week. At the radio station, everybody was excited because we could look out of the office window at the back of the building and see, literally, thousands of people teeming into Highbury Fields. These were our listeners! For the last week, we had been broadcasting into the ether above London, never knowing whether more than a few hundred people were listening to us. But here was the proof. If any one event made the entire KISS FM staff believe that the station was already a success, it was the sight of all those people who had decided to spend a sunny September day with us … just because we had invited them.

Although most of the day’s activities were taking place at Highbury Fields, the KISS FM building was also very busy. The entire floor used by the programming department had been turned into a changing room for the artists to use. This proved very convenient for us to grab interviews with each of them before they went on-stage. Sufficient material was gathered during that one day to make dozens of editions of ‘The Word’ programme over the following few weeks. I went downstairs to the production studio and found a very fraught Lyn Champion, head of talks, in animated conversation on the phone. She put the phone down and told me that Gordon McNamee had been calling her, demanding that she put on-air a live link from the Highbury Fields stage. I was surprised. During all the preparations, McNamee had not mentioned to me anything about a live link-up.

Investigating further, I found that McNamee had unilaterally arranged for the station’s engineering contractor to set up a microwave radio link from the event stage to the studio, without informing us. Champion was very concerned that the quality of the audio received from the stage was so awful that it did not bear transmission on the radio. I listened too and, indeed, it sounded like someone playing a stereo system very loudly in a bathroom. The quality was appalling and would sound exactly that way coming out of listeners’ radios. I felt that it would do neither the station, nor the artists who happened to be performing at the time, any service to broadcast such poor-quality sound. Besides, I was not sure that KISS FM had even sought permission from any of the artists to relay their live performances to the whole of London.

I contacted McNamee on his mobile phone at the event and told him that, after listening to the microwave link, I agreed with Champion that the sound quality was too poor to put on-air. McNamee exploded with anger and called me every swear word under the sun. However, I refused to lose my temper and told him that, from where I was standing in the studio, the quality would sound dreadful for the stations’ listeners, a fact that he would not be able to appreciate himself, being at the event. Everybody in the studio had agreed upon this – Champion, me and the DJ on-air at the time. It would be crazy to put something on-air that sounded so bad. McNamee raged at me some more and then the phone line went dead.

I imagined that McNamee might turn up at the studio and put the live link on-air himself, but maybe he was too busy enjoying the privileges of the VIP Enclosure he had organised backstage at Highbury Fields. I never saw McNamee visit the station studios that day, but I realised that I would bear the brunt of his bitterness at some point in the future, so I would not have escaped unscathed.

More importantly than putting the event on-air, by mid-afternoon the police and transport authorities were asking the station to broadcast appeals asking people not to try and travel to the event because the area could not cope with more visitors. I happily obliged. These announcements only served to reinforce in the minds of our listeners the power that the station was able to wield after only one week on-air.

At the very end of the day, when the crowds had finally dispersed happy and fulfilled, I cleared up the debris that the artists had left in their ‘dressing room’ and drove a mile or so down the road to the after-event party that had been organised. There were bouncers on the door of the venue, to whom I identified myself as a KISS FM staff member and showed my ID card. They made me wait … and wait … and wait. Then, one of them came back and told me that I was not on their list of approved guests. I told them that I must be. I worked for KISS FM and this was the radio station’s party. They insisted that I was not one of the invited guests of whom they had been made aware. I realised that there was little point in getting angry with two very large bouncers that KISS FM had contracted for the event. The only person I knew that would be inside the event with a mobile phone was McNamee. This was not a good time to ask him a favour. Instead, I drove home frustrated and angry at my exclusion.

December 1990. After the failure of the second [in-store] radio station at the Trocadero [shopping centre], McNamee busied himself with the organisation of a staff party to celebrate KISS FM’s one hundredth day on-air. On the evening of Sunday 9 December 1990, the station’s entire staff, accompanied by members of the board and several journalists, filled The Underworld club in Camden, a venue that was only a few yards away from KISS FM’s first office in Greenland Street. The event was an updated version of the annual KISS FM awards ceremony that had started in the station’s pirate days. McNamee thoroughly enjoyed taking the role of circus ringmaster for the night and, just like the Oscars event, he announced the short-listed candidates for what seemed like a never-ending succession of prizes.

Some of the awards were serious in nature – David Rodigan won ‘Best Daytime Show,’ Tee Harris won ‘Best Specialist Show,’ and Paul Anderson won the prize for ‘Best Mixer.’ There were also many joke awards with which McNamee could thoroughly enjoy embarrassing his staff – Sonia Fraser won the ‘Biggest Flirt Award,’ and Malcolm Cox won KISS FM’s ‘Worst Dancer Award.’ During several hours of ceremonies, McNamee ensured that just about everybody at the station was either nominated or won an award. After a stage show in which three members of the programming department dressed up to present a skit on stage of a soul song by The Supremes, the guests were left to mingle, accompanied by music selected by former LWR DJ Elayne who had been hired for the night.

It was an enjoyable evening and a good way for everybody to relax after three months of hard work. Once the awards section of the evening was over, several of the staff from my department came up to me, one by one, to express surprise that I had not been mentioned at all in McNamee’s ceremony or been nominated for any prize. One concerned member of my team expressed outright indignation that I had not even been thanked for my contribution to the station’s successful launch. “Have you not worked harder than anybody to make this whole thing work?” she asked.

I shrugged off these comments as if I was not bothered about my complete omission from the night’s events. But I too could not have helped but notice that McNamee had left me out. I was not at all surprised. McNamee usually made no bones about snubbing in public those former colleagues who had fallen from his favour. That night, everybody celebrated the fact that KISS FM had already won 750,000 listeners. McNamee seemed to be celebrating the fact that he did not need my services anymore.

June 1991. I knew that, whatever story McNamee had told the press about the reasons for my dismissal [see blog], I could be sure that the reasons he must have offered to the company’s board to ensure my sudden departure were probably much more lurid and fantastic. I dreaded to think what McNamee might have been saying, in confidence, to colleagues within the radio industry about what dreadful deeds I was supposed to have committed at KISS FM before he had found me out. Was there anything that McNamee would not do to try and destroy my reputation?

That question was answered three weeks after my dismissal. I received a phone call late one evening from Daniel Nathan, a colleague in radio whom I had employed at KISS FM temporarily to help train the DJs. The two of us regularly exchanged news about developments within the industry. At the end of the conversation, Nathan asked me how I had reacted to the newspaper report about my dismissal. “What report?” I asked him, knowing that the media trade magazines had already run out of steam with the story. He went away for a while and returned to the phone with the Independent On Sunday newspaper in which he had seen the article.

Under the headline ‘KISS FM Keeps Status Quo,’ the report said: “KISS FM, London’s hippest radio station, has fought off an attempt to take it into the mainstream of pop music. But the former pirate has dismissed its head of programming after he suggested that ‘the radical sound of young London,’ as KISS calls itself, ditch the soul, Latin, house R&B, rare groove, salsa, blues, hip hop, reggae and bhangra music styles that made its name. Grant Goddard, head of programming at KISS, was sacked by the managing director, Gordon McNamee, after proposing to dismiss the weekend disc jockeys and play more commercial music to compete with Capital Radio.”

I could not believe the ‘story’ that Nathan was reading to me over the phone, but the article continued: “While a soured Mr Goddard fed the trade press stories of a crisis – ‘Struggling KISS Goes Mainstream’ declared the magazine Broadcast – Mr McNamee, or Gordon Mac as he is known, had gone to Spain for a rest. By the time he returned, the rumour was that Virgin, the principal shareholder, was selling out to the publishing company EMAP, who were to install a rock music supremo to win new listeners. ‘That’s all rubbish,’ said Mac yesterday. ‘We’re not about to start playing pop music, although of course we are interested in taking listeners from other stations, including Capital.’“

The article continued with a glowing biography of McNamee, trumpeting his abilities, accompanied by his photo. I could not believe what Nathan had just read to me down the phone line. This was the first national newspaper to pick up the story of my dismissal, but the newspaper had made no attempt to discover my side of the story. Furthermore, McNamee’s lies had surely reached their zenith in this article. And the journalist had peppered the article with inaccuracies – Virgin was not the principal shareholder in KISS FM. EMAP, far from buying the radio station, already had a substantial stake in it. I was absolutely livid and was determined to do something about it.

Once I found the relevant issue of The Independent On Sunday in my local library the next day, I noticed that the article had been written by Martin Wroe. The name was familiar to me because Wroe had written regularly about KISS FM since January 1988, when a piece in The Independent, entitled ‘Pirates Who Storm The Open Airwaves,’ had been accompanied by a photo of McNamee standing in the pirate KISS FM studio. Wroe’s first article had offered a glowing account of “Gordon Mac, the twenty-seven year old North London entrepreneur who controls KISS FM.” In at least four further articles about the station, Wroe had described McNamee as “a hip young media mogul” and had referred to “the excellent audience figures of KISS FM.” If I had wanted to choose someone to write a positive account of recent events at KISS FM, who better to ask than a journalist, on a national newspaper, who had never said a negative word about me?

I was incensed that Wroe had made no attempt to contact me to discover my side of the story, despite the fact that the article had been published three weeks after my dismissal. Every other journalist who had written about my exit from KISS FM had at least spoken to me about the story, even if they had not believed my version of events. Wroe had written a straightforward character assassination piece, much as McNamee might have wanted. Just when I thought McNamee had finished sticking the knife into my back publicly, he had played his trump card.

September 1991. However, it was not until three months after Wroe’s article had been published that the newspaper printed a full retraction and apologised for Martin Wroe’s wholesale inaccuracies.

[Excerpts from ‘KISS FM: From Radical Radio To Big Business: The Inside Story Of A London Pirate Radio Station’s Path To Success’ by Grant Goddard, Radio Books, 2011, 528 pages]

[Originally blog published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/10/hes-queen-of-snubs-1989-1991-gordon.html ]

[grantgoddard]

I don’t want to be like my daddy : 1972 : Red Carpet Inn, Daytona Beach & ‘Baby Sitter’ by Betty Wright

Having answered the front door, its frame was filled by the 11pm silhouette of a large black man wearing overalls and carrying a toolbox. The only words I could discern from his Southern drawl were ‘air con’. Aha! He must have arrived to fix the air conditioning malfunction of which I had alerted the reception desk an hour earlier. He lumbered in and set to work while I continued to watch television.

“You on your own here, sir?” he asked whilst precariously balancing on a chair to grope the insides of the wall-mounted unit. Nobody had ever called me ‘sir’ before. I was a fourteen-year-old boy. He was at least three times my age.

“I am staying here with my dad,” I replied matter-of-factly. Was I meant to call him ‘sir’ too? He looked at me quizzically, seemingly not having comprehended my response. It suddenly dawned that, though Brits know American vocabulary from their TV and movies, Americans understand almost no British English.

“My father,” I clarified. “I am staying here with my father. But he has gone out this evening.”

“D’ya know when your pa gonna return, sir?” the man asked. I shook my head. I was not being coy. I did not know.

It took about a quarter-hour for the man to persuade the air conditioning to function again. Now, whenever I watch Robert De Niro fighting air ducts in ‘Brazil’, I am reminded of that maintenance man. Before he left, he kindly warned me:

“You’s be careful now, sir. And don’t you answer the door to anyone tonight as long as you is alone.”

I thanked him and continued watching television. My parents had raised me on the numerous 1960’s American shows broadcast in Britain, many of which were years old, so it was heavenly to binge on new episodes of familiar shows and those unknown to me. I had bought that week’s ‘TV Guide’ from the reception desk and was thrilled to discover shows like ‘Love American Style’ and ‘Room 222’ on ABC that made me laugh out loud, stretched out on my motel bed.

The late film that night was ‘The Magus’, a baffling watch despite the presence of Michael Caine and Anthony Quinn. Because American TV networks cut off movie credits, I had no idea that it was a critically mauled adaptation of a 1965 John Fowles novel. Back home, a female librarian at Camberley Civic Library had suggested I borrow Fowles’ 1963 debut ‘The Collector’, perhaps not realising from my height that I was only ten years old then, not a suitable age to read a harrowing account of a lonely young man kidnaping a girl and locking her in his cellar until she dies. For years after, I could not supress regular nightmares about this scenario … in which I was the young man.

A decade hence, university friend and housemate John Chandler would insist I read the paperback of ‘The Magus’. Despite the disappointment of the film, Fowles’ book proved to be riveting and not to give me nightmares. It remains one of my favourite reads, alongside another of John’s recommendations, Ursula Le Guinn’s 1974 novel ‘The Dispossessed’. I digress.

So where was my father that evening? I had no idea. He had left me in our motel room and driven away our hire car, promising to be back later. I eventually crawled into bed. He did not reappear until the next morning, offering neither explanation nor apology. As a teenage boy accustomed to parental indifference [see blog], I failed to recognise how irresponsible was his behaviour. Had the ‘Red Carpet Inn’ in Daytona Beach burnt to the ground that night with me inside, how would he have explained his decision to abandon me overnight 4,286 miles from home?

This whole father/son trip had been a bizarre undertaking from its outset. Unencumbered by prior discussion with me or my mother, he had visited a travel agency in Egham and booked a package tour to Florida for me and he alone, omitting our three other family members. My mother was understandably furious. My form tutor at school was furious as it meant me missing lessons for a week during term time and, henceforth, I was never awarded another School Prize [see blog]. Our first long-haul trip was ostensibly booked to witness the launch of the final Apollo rocket from Cape Kennedy. For years I had been a fanatic of the ‘space race’, following every event in detail and even corresponding with NASA for a primary school project. But my father was not.

Our father/son relationship could best be described as ‘business-like’. As soon as I could walk, my father had pressganged me into his one-man quantity surveyor business [see blog], me initially holding the end of his lengthy roll-out tape measure at properties, but more recently calculating returns on potential property developments [see blog]. Was this trip meant to be the reward for my decade’s unpaid service? My father had never seemed, er, fatherly to me. I do not recall him ever sitting me on his knee, holding my hand, hugging me or even reading me a book. When there was something he wanted to do that disinterested my mother, I was merely a handy substitute. Hence, despite my few years, I accompanied him to Camberley Odeon to watch ‘One Million Years B.C.’ in 1966 (aged eight), ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ and ‘Planet of The Apes’ in 1968 (ten) and ‘Vanishing Point’ in 1971 (thirteen), the latter supported by a violent B-movie western in which a woman is stalked and raped by cowboys. Parental guidance, what’s that?

In the months between my father booking this trip and our departure, his behaviour had become more and more erratic, abandoning our family home for days on end without explanation. At the same time, he had become increasingly violent towards my mother, then caring for my months-old sister whom he had never wanted. Even though he had already indulged in purchasing a new American Motors Javelin sports car, he replaced it with an even more expensive and ostentatious two-seater ‘AMX’ model that resembled the drag racing cars he insisted on taking me to watch on weekends at nearby Blackbushe Airport. Was he experiencing some kind of mid-life crisis?

Whilst driving around Daytona Beach, I had noticed us pass a record shop which I wanted to visit. Having purchased my first soul single in 1969, I since had used pocket money to regularly buy imported American soul records from ‘Record Corner’ in Balham and ‘Contempo Records’ in Hanway Street. We stopped by the store and I bought some recent soul singles I had heard played on ‘American Forces Network’ Frankfurt, audible evenings in the UK on 873kHz AM, songs which had not yet been released at home: ‘Me and Mrs Jones’ by Billy Paul [Philadelphia International ZS7 3521], ‘One Life To Live’ by The Manhattans [Deluxe 45-139] and ‘Baby Sitter’ by Betty Wright [Alston A-4614].

After witnessing the delayed but spectacular night-time launch of Apollo 17 from the bonnet of our hire car, parked amongst hundreds of similar spectators, we caught our flight home from Melbourne airport. I felt sick and delirious that entire journey, unaware I was suffering sunstroke, my father having never considered providing me ‘sun creme’ or a hat during hours spent strolling together along the Florida shoreline for him to ogle bikini girls. Before our arrival home, he told me not to tell my mother about his unexplained overnight disappearances, our day of arrival having been the only night he had slept in his motel bed.

My silence made no difference because, only weeks later, my father left his family for good, similarly without explanation. Had the Florida trip been his clumsy way of bidding me farewell? Or had it been an experiment for him to explore a potential alternate lifestyle unencumbered by his wife and three children? Whatever it was, I did not miss him for one minute. All he had ever done was utilise my skills for his own ends. I did not shed one tear. For the previous fourteen years, he had only been present in my life when there had been some task I could do for him … rather than with him. Never had he demonstrated a genuine interest in his children.

Before he finally left, the few times he was at home, my father would play repeatedly the ‘Baby Sitter’ single we had brought back from Daytona Beach. It was a song in the Southern soul storytelling mould in which singer Betty Wright hires a teenage babysitter to look after her child, later discovering the girl has ‘stolen’ her man. The lyrics relate:

“This sixteen-year-old chick walked in

With her skirt up to her waist

She had a truckload of you-know-what

And all of it in place.”

Wright learnt the lesson after her man left:

“I should have been aware

Of the babysitter

I should have known from the junk, yeah

She was a man-getter.”

I felt it was a bit of a novelty song, nowhere near as classy as Wright’s 1971 ‘Clean Up Woman’ single [Alston A-4601] which I had purchased as an import single and loved. I had no idea why her new song seemed to resonate so strongly with my father until …

The day after my father left us, there was an unexpected knock on our front door. It was our friendly neighbour Mark Anthony who lived three houses along our cul-de-sac. He was visibly upset because his young bride had disappeared the day before without explanation. Had she contacted my mother, since we were the only family she knew on our street, the couple having only recently moved there? No, explained my mother, but my father had disappeared the same day. Oh dear! It seemed that my forty-one-year-old father had run away with Mark’s nineteen-year-old wife Suzie. She may never have been our family’s babysitter but she did resemble the girl in the song. I suddenly realised why my father had identified with its lyrics. He had abandoned us for a teenager. Was that how he had spent his nights in Florida?

During the months that followed, my father tried his utmost to destroy his family. While we were out, he would break into our home and steal as much as he could drive away of our possessions [see blog]. I lost a large number of soul records I had bought with my pocket money, many of which were irreplaceable and in which he had shown no previous interest. Amongst them was the ‘Baby Sitter’ single.

Years later, on the run from Court Orders requiring back-payment of thousands of pounds to my mother for the maintenance of his children, he fled to America. Eventually, the US Immigration Service caught up with him and expelled this ‘illegal alien’ back to the UK from Everton (population 133) in Arkansas where he had been confident/stupid enough in 1985 to register a business named ‘Andre Associates Inc’ with an address there at ‘Route 3, Box 68’, as well as a corporation of the same name in 1986 at '1608 Avalon Place, Fort Myers, Florida'. Extradited back to home soil, he disappeared again to Wales and then Christchurch. He never did pay his debts to us.

Upon his death in 2013, following who knows how many more failed marriages, my father left a handwritten will that bequeathed the bulk of his estate to my younger brother, along with his “collection of soul LP, CD, cassette music”. This was my apparent non-reward for having passed a decade working in my father’s business, whereas my brother had contributed not one day. I hope my brother has enjoyed listening to old records I had eked out of my teenage pocket money. Oh, I almost forgot, he had never shown any interest in soul music. To add insult to injury, my brother did not invite me to my father’s funeral, nor my sister, nor our mother. Evidently, he is the son of his father!

[I was reminded of these events whilst compiling my Spotify playlist of 2000+ 1970’s soul, funk and disco recordings from the catalogue of Miami’s ‘T.K. Records’, home to Betty Wright, George McCrae and KC & The Sunshine Band, amongst others. Naturally, it includes ‘Baby Sitter’.]

[First published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/09/i-dont-want-to-be-like-my-daddy-1972.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Givin’ up Free! for funk (radio) : 1989-1991 : Free! magazine / Touch magazine, KISS FM, London

August 1989. There was a momentary lull in the usually frenetic activity at the [former London pirate radio station] ‘KISS FM’ office, whilst we awaited the next Independent Broadcasting Authority [IBA] announcement that would give specific details of the application procedure for the two new London FM [commercial radio] licences on offer. [KISS FM co-founder] Gordon McNamee turned his attention to other matters, since he understood that there was still no guarantee of KISS FM winning the licence, even on its second attempt.

On several occasions, I had mentioned to McNamee my belief that there existed significant untapped commercial potential in KISS FM’s magazine, ‘The Written Word.’ A year earlier, the publication had started life as a single A3 sheet newsletter, entitled ‘94,’ that had been produced on a word processor and had been printed without photographs. At that time, it had been intended solely as an update for the station’s fans and its main feature had been the KISS FM programme schedule. As the station’s mailing list increased in size, so too had the content of the magazine. By the final issue of The Written Word, the thirty-two pages had included lots of photos, record reviews, interviews and information about the London dance music scene. There were also several pages of paid-for advertisements which had helped to defray the increasing costs of printing and postage.

For several years, I had been fascinated by the proliferation of free magazines in London, with weekly titles such as ‘Ms London,’ ‘Girl About Town’ and ‘Midweek’ handed out during the morning rush hour to thousands of commuters at London’s railway and underground stations. For revenue, these magazines depended entirely upon the advertising space they sold, but their distribution costs were low and their print runs were huge. An increasing number of more specialist magazines were being produced and financed in this way. Travelling through Waterloo railway station one day, I had been handed a free entertainment and what’s on magazine that was aimed specifically at high earning commuters living in the suburbs. In my area of Northwest London, I regularly received a free copy of a general interest, colour magazine aimed at homeowners in the locality.

One of the problems KISS FM had encountered with The Written Word was the huge cost of sending out thousands of copies of each issue individually to every person on the station’s growing mailing list. I believed that these expenses could be reduced dramatically by distributing the magazine as a free giveaway to a wider readership that would pick it up from dance music record shops, music venues and clubs in London. Many more copies would have to be printed to circulate the magazine in this way, but the advertising space within it could be sold at a much higher price, since it would be reaching many more readers. Instead of being solely a KISS FM publicity vehicle, the enlarged publication could be London’s first giveaway magazine to be aimed specifically at the city’s dance music community.

McNamee liked my idea and could see the potential it offered him to earn much needed revenue to cover the overheads of running the KISS FM office. After several weeks discussing with him my proposal for the magazine, McNamee asked if I would like to launch the project and be its editor. I had experience in this field, having been editor of the student newspaper [‘Palatinate’] and student handbook whilst at university, and having launched an independent music magazine [‘N.E.’] in Northeast England. I accepted McNamee’s job offer and handed in my notice to the record company where I had worked during the last two years. McNamee said he would pay me £100 for three days’ work each week, plus eight per cent of the net profits generated by the magazine. Although this worked out to be less money than I had earned from the record company, I believed that the new job would improve my career prospects and provide an opportunity to be more closely involved with KISS FM.

Besides, my recent experiences with the record company had left me frustrated and eager to explore a new work opportunity. Back in 1985, whilst working in Israel, I had discovered a female singer named Ofra Haza whose music, a kind of ‘Middle East meets West’ sound, I believed would be marketable in Europe. Since then, I had worked hard promoting her music and had succeeded in achieving airplay on national radio in the UK and positive press coverage. By 1989, one of the Ofra Haza songs I had found in Israel four years earlier had reached number fifteen in the UK singles chart. It was released by the independent record company for which I had been working. I asked the company for some compensation towards all the work I had done to make this artist a success, including a UK artist interview tour I had arranged in early 1989. The directors had met and decided to offer me a cheque for £200. I felt insulted by this amount, particularly as my years of work had given the company its biggest chart hit in a long time. Worse, the credit for Ofra Haza’s chart success was being taken in press interviews by someone else working at the record label. Now, all I wanted to do was quit the company, having earned almost nothing from four years of work having created Israel’s biggest international pop music star, and yet not having even gained any recognition.

I started work at the Blackstock Mews office on 22 August 1989, the first occasion I had earned money from KISS FM, despite having been involved in the business since the beginning of the year. I had been spending more and more time in the office, working with the other staff, but had never been offered remuneration. I looked forward to becoming a proper employee, although the one person in the organisation who did not seem to welcome my appointment as editor of the new publication was Lindsay Wesker [son of playwright Sir Arnold Wesker]. He had been editor of The Written Word, until its recent closure, and he probably felt that this experience, combined with his previous work for the ‘Black Echoes’ music paper, should have made him the ideal candidate for this new post. McNamee told me privately that he was well aware of Wesker’s antipathy towards my appointment, but assured me that he wanted fresh blood to be in charge of the project.

The day after I handed in my notice to the record company, I convened an evening meeting at the KISS FM office to discuss the new magazine. After a considerable amount of brain-storming, [co-worker] Heddi Greenwood suggested it could be titled ‘Free!’ reflecting not only the fact that it was to be a giveaway magazine, but also the notion of personal freedom to which dance music fans would be able to relate. Her suggestion was accepted unanimously. It was agreed that the first monthly issue would be published at the beginning of October 1989, that the print run would be around 30,000, and that the magazine should divorce itself entirely from the KISS FM campaign for a radio licence that had dominated The Written Word. Everyone felt that it was most important for the magazine to be viewed as an authoritative, independent guide to the London dance music scene. Heddi Greenwood would handle the advertising sales for the magazine, and McNamee had appointed Lindsay Wesker its deputy editor in a gesture of reconciliation. I set to work writing a substantial business plan that outlined the magazine’s purpose and ethos, which would also be used in presentations to potential advertisers. Over several pages, I defined the editorial content of Free!, its intended readership and the reasons I believed it would prove so successful.

Now that I had become the fifth paid worker in the KISS FM office, McNamee arranged a second-hand desk and phone extension for my arrival. I was now working at Blackstock Mews on a regular basis, from which I gained a greater insight into the way in which the members of the KISS FM team worked and their respective roles within the organisation.

I was busy putting together the blueprint for the new Free! magazine. I visited a cheap photo-typesetting company in Brighton, commissioned quotes from printing companies, called meetings in the office of potential contributors, and commissioned a logo design. McNamee was becoming increasingly enthused about the potential profit offered by the new magazine, and so he quickly became more involved in its day-to-day running. He had almost stopped talking about KISS FM altogether and, despite our awareness that the new London FM licences were in the pipeline, McNamee directed the whole office’s efforts into this new publishing venture.

One extremely hot and sunny weekend in late August, the KISS FM staff spent the whole of Saturday and Sunday transforming the hitherto unused downstairs room at Blackstock Mews into an office for Free! All the accumulated rubbish was completely cleared out and the dark, dreary room was repainted – ceiling, walls, floor, everything. McNamee bought a job lot of small second-hand desks, which were moved outside to the Mews for us to paint in gloss black. The office stereo system was rigged up outdoors to provide us with musical entertainment, and McNamee dug out some old cassette recordings of programmes from KISS FM’s pirate days, which he had kept in his desk drawers, to entertain everyone.

Some brand-new shelves and storage units were purchased from the IKEA furniture store, which McNamee and I assembled in the new downstairs office. There was one piece of furniture with which McNamee became obsessed: the construction of a huge, rectangular glass-topped table, more than six feet in length. It was the closest he could achieve, for now, to the impressive pieces of furniture he had admired in the opulent boardrooms of KISS FM’s new, corporate shareholders. Between the clear glass table top and its felt underlay, McNamee spent hours carefully positioning press articles about KISS FM and pages from The Written Word magazine, along with some of the station’s publicity materials. Once the glass top had been screwed down to the base, the whole thing looked remarkably like a personal shrine to the KISS FM pirate radio station that McNamee used to run and to the commercial radio business to which he aspired.

One chapter in his business career now having ended, McNamee seemed determined to bury the deep disappointment of the failed [first] KISS FM licence bid and, instead, to put all his energies into turning my idea for Free! magazine into the money-spinner he longed for. The dream of KISS FM radio was very quickly being forgotten.

When I had accepted the job of editor, McNamee had promised that I would also be spending some of my time working on the second licence application, but the launch of Free! was proving to be very demanding and there was still little sign of action within the organisation about the radio licence.

McNamee hardly ever mentioned KISS FM any more, and the only aspect of the second licence application that seemed to occupy him was satisfying the chairman’s desire to assemble an advisory committee. Since the failure of the first bid, there had not been a single office meeting to discuss what had gone well or badly in the previous campaign, or to analyse what had been the good and bad points of the application. Whenever I broached the subject of the second licence bid with McNamee, he would shrug it off and change the subject to the potential success of Free! magazine, which had overtaken KISS FM as his pet project. This state of affairs frustrated me immensely, because it seemed as if McNamee had lost interest in making a second licence bid at all. He had already discarded KISS FM’s past and the possibility of winning second time around. In fact, McNamee had confided in a close friend, Joe Strong, manager of Dingwalls venue in Camden, that losing the licence had left him “absolutely devastated” and “absolutely inconsolable.”

I was perplexed. I arranged to meet a fellow journalist and radio worker, Daniel Nathan, whom I had known since moving to London in 1986, and with whom I felt I could discuss this problem. As the two of us walked across Blackheath one weekend, I ranted to Nathan about how incredibly close I thought KISS FM was to winning a licence on this second occasion, and how frustrating it was that McNamee seemed intent on wasting the opportunity. I had been the only member of the KISS FM team to attend the IBA press conference announcing ‘London Jazz Radio’s win (Nathan had been there too) and it was obvious to me how much enthusiasm some of the IBA staff had shown towards KISS FM’s bid. This time, there was likely to be a similar number of applicants for the two new licences and, unless KISS FM could submit an almost perfect application, the IBA would feel duty bound to award licences to other groups who proved that they were better organised.

Talking to Nathan clarified, in my own mind, the gravity of the situation. These two new London licences were likely to be the last on offer until sometime in the mid-1990’s. To throw away the chance of winning a black music station for radio listeners in London at this stage would be utterly crazy, particularly after so many people had campaigned for so many years in the hope of just such an eventuality. I decided that, even if McNamee was prepared to remain slumped despondently in his office chair, consigning KISS FM to a space in his glorious past, I certainly was not. If he wanted to wallow in his own despair, that was fine with me. He could carry on playing nostalgic tapes of his old KISS FM shows to everyone in the office, as he had been during recent weeks, but I was determined to do something more positive about winning the station a licence.

On returning to work the following week, at the first opportune moment, I confronted McNamee across his desk in the open plan KISS FM office. Why was he not doing anything about the second licence bid? Did he not believe KISS FM could win? If everyone else still had faith in KISS FM, was he not letting them all down? Was any work being done on a revised application? Was not Free! magazine merely a short-term distraction? Almost anyone could start a new magazine, but how many people could win a radio licence? Why had he slumped into total inaction? As I questioned McNamee, I could sense the other staff at their desks in the office trying to bury their heads in work and look as if they were not listening to our conversation. I explained to McNamee that I thought he was throwing away the biggest business opportunity he was ever likely to encounter in his life. I told him that, of the people within the KISS FM office, I seemed to be the best qualified person to organise and co-ordinate the second licence application [having previously researched and written successful project applications to Durham University, Manpower Services Commission, Northern Arts and Princes Trust]. For the moment, that work seemed to me to be a far more appropriate use of my skills than editing Free!, particularly as nobody else seemed to be doing anything about the KISS FM bid.

I suggested to McNamee that someone else should be brought in to edit Free! magazine while I devoted my full attention to re-working the KISS FM licence application. I had already prepared the groundwork for the new magazine during the last month, and the project could easily be handed over to another editor at this stage. On the other hand, if we did not act on the KISS FM bid now, we would never be offered another chance.

During this monologue, McNamee listened to me, smiled a lot, but said virtually nothing in reply. I could sense that, deep inside, he was incredibly angry that anyone should even dare to challenge his authority in this way. I had seen him act this way before, but only when directing his anger towards others who had displeased him. Instead of showing any response of anger or emotion, McNamee just glowered at you and clammed up. It was his usual cold shoulder treatment – ex-communication rather than confrontation – and you had to wonder whether he was already plotting some ghastly revenge to extract upon you in the future for your supposed crime. McNamee continued to be wholly unresponsive to my questions, so I told him that I planned to start work immediately on KISS FM’s application and that, initially, I planned to do some research in the comparative peace of my home. I promised I would willingly explain and hand over all the tasks I had completed on Free! magazine to whomsoever he wished. After all my suggestions, McNamee still offered me no response, so I gathered together my work and left the office.

After that ‘meeting,’ it was almost a week before I heard anything at all from McNamee. I had been busy working at home, as I had planned, and although I had regular telephone conversations with the other staff in the KISS FM office, McNamee had carefully avoided any contact with me. To me, this sort of behaviour appeared incredibly childish – McNamee seemed to be putting the vanity of his own ego above the need for his radio station to win a licence. Then, late one evening, he phoned me from home. He offered no explanation or apology for his attitude towards me that day in the office, and he gave no reason as to why he had failed to contact me at all during the intervening week. Our conversation was unemotional and business-like. He told me that, from now on, he would pay me £100 for spending three days each week working on the KISS FM licence application. He said he wanted more of my time, but I explained that I had other work commitments during the week on which I could not renege. He made it sound as if this arrangement had just come to him in a flash of inspiration, and that his offer was obviously too good for anyone to turn down.

He also told me that I would no longer be involved in Free! magazine in any capacity. He wanted me to visit the office and hand over all my paperwork to the newly appointed editor, who would be Lindsay Wesker. Finally, he disclosed the caveat that must have taken him almost a week to concoct. When my work on the licence application ended in November, I would no longer be paid by KISS FM, and neither could I resume the editorship of Free! magazine. In essence, I was being allowed to have my own way in the short term but, in the end, I had been made to sacrifice a permanent job at KISS FM. I would be forced to look elsewhere for work once the licence application process was over. This did not worry me excessively because I sincerely believed that KISS FM could win the licence this time around, whereas McNamee seemed already to have resigned himself to failing on the second occasion. This new arrangement cut my pay to a basic £100 per week, because I would no longer draw the percentage of profit that McNamee had previously agreed I would derive from Free! magazine. I was not told the details of the deal that McNamee had struck with Wesker to take over editorship of Free!, but Wesker could not hide his delight at assuming the position he must have felt he had always deserved.

However, when the much delayed first issue of Free! was eventually published at the beginning of November, Wesker’s tendency to indulge himself shone from the inside of the magazine. He contributed one page of his own photos and three and a half pages of his record reviews to the beginning of that first edition. These reviews included glowing critiques of a single released by KISS FM’s own label ‘Graphic Records’ and of a track recorded by Wesker’s partner, Claudette Patterson. I was no longer allowed any involvement in Free! and my name was deleted from the magazine’s masthead, in disregard of my work developing the original idea and setting the project in motion. Free! had been my ‘baby’ and I had had to sacrifice it for KISS FM. From then on, Wesker spent most of his time in the downstairs Free! office at Blackstock Mews, while the rest of us continued to work upstairs on the business of KISS FM and Goodfoot Promotions [Limited].

Personally, I was very disappointed to no longer be involved in the launch and organisation of Free! magazine. However, I firmly believed that KISS FM would win the London licence if I could come up with the necessary facts and figures in this second version of the application form. There would always be another opportunity in the future for me to launch a new publishing project. Right now, this might be the last opportunity I would have to win London a black music radio station. The hard work had only just begun, and a lot of responsibility was suddenly resting upon my shoulders.

February 1990. During recent months […], Lindsay Wesker had become totally absorbed in his role as editor of the monthly magazine Free! and he was now spending little time on KISS FM matters. The February 1990 edition of the magazine presented the first opportunity for KISS FM to explain, in its own words, exactly how it had won its [second application for a] radio licence. Wesker wanted to write the article, but McNamee intervened and insisted that I should pen the two-page feature. Despite the magazine having been my original idea, this was the only occasion I was asked to contribute to Free!, and then only because McNamee had insisted. Wesker seemed incredibly territorial about the project he now viewed as ‘his baby,’ and he appeared to like to do as much of the work on the magazine himself as was possible.

June 1990. The next job appointment I needed to make was the station’s record librarian, who would be supervised by KISS FM’s head of music, Lindsay Wesker. Since taking over the editorship of Free! magazine from me the previous year, Wesker had had little involvement in the re-launch of KISS FM. He seemed almost obsessed with the monthly magazine, spending many late nights in the ground floor office writing articles and reviewing records. Since Wesker had no prior commercial radio experience to contribute, I had not been particularly worried by his absence. However, the person appointed as record librarian would report to Wesker, which is why it was vital for him to be involved in their selection. I loaned Wesker a large folder of all the applications I had received for this job [I had advertised in ‘The Guardian’ newspaper] and I asked his opinion of which might be the most suitable to interview.

The next day, Wesker returned the folder to me, having marked the handful of candidates he felt were most suitable. I looked through his selection and was puzzled by his choices. I asked him why he had chosen those particular applicants, none of whom had previous library experience. He explained that there were two qualities he had been looking for – the candidates had to demonstrate knowledge of dance music, and they had to be female. At first, I thought he was joking, but I quickly discovered that he was not. Wesker explained to me his theory that a record librarian had to be a woman, and stated that he was not interested in working with someone who was not a proven expert in dance music. I was shocked that Wesker could be so irrational in choosing a suitable person for the job. His method of appointing staff was proving to be as bizarre as that of McNamee.

February 1991. Gordon McNamee [now KISS 100 FM managing director] suddenly announced that the station would no longer publish Free! magazine after the January 1991 issue. I was proud to have created the idea for the magazine a year and a half earlier. Although I was no longer associated with its editorial team, I was sad to see Free! close just as KISS FM was proving to be a success with listeners. McNamee explained that the magazine was no longer earning sufficient revenues from advertising to cover its printing costs. However, there were rumours of other reasons for the closure. It was alleged that two KISS FM directors wanted to close Free! because it clashed with their publishing interests. Tony Prince owned the monthly ‘MixMag’ magazine which had recently switched from subscription-only to retail sales. Free! would be a direct competitor. It was also alleged that KISS FM shareholder EMAP [plc] planned to launch its own monthly dance music magazine. Free! would be a direct competitor. Fortunately, Free! found an alternative financial backer and was reborn [under new ownership] as ‘Touch’ magazine, which published similar editorial content.

Once Free! had moved out, the large downstairs room on the ground floor of the [KISS 100 FM] Holloway Road building suddenly looked very empty. I spent an evening picking through the debris left in the office of the magazine that had started life as ‘94’ in July 1988, and which had been such an important part of the pirate station’s campaign to win a licence. Free!’s sudden closure was a bad omen. Staff in the building started whispering about further cuts that might be made to save the company money.

FREE!, nos. 1-15 (November 1989 - January 1991), London.

[Excerpt from ‘KISS FM: From Radical Radio To Big Business: The Inside Story Of A London Pirate Radio Station’s Path To Success’ by Grant Goddard, Radio Books, 2011, 528 pages]

POSTSCRIPT Having purchased my first soul record (‘Time Is Tight’, Booker T & the MG’s, Stax 119) in 1969, I had been thrilled in 1973 to find a new homegrown monthly colour magazine ‘Black Music’ on the shelves of my local newsagent. I devoured every issue cover-to-cover until its closure in 1984 and wrote to many of its advertisers selling soul and reggae records. I could never have imagined then that, almost two decades hence, I would become the founder of Britain’s longest running monthly black music magazine, created as ‘Free!’ and renamed ‘Touch’ until its closure in 2001.

KISS FM boss Gordon McNamee’s cruel obliteration of my name from the magazine’s history has since empowered his long-time colleague Lindsay Wesker to claim online “I created a magazine called free!” and to have “created free! Magazine” and “Created free! Magazine” and “created free! Magazine”. I am reminded of the iconic Norman Whitfield soul song ‘It Should Have Been Me’. Evidently, history is written by the vipers.

[First published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/07/givin-up-free-for-funk-radio-1989-1991.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Traitor at the gates of soul : 1990 : Tony Blackburn, Capital Radio versus KISS 100 FM, London

Pop music had been outlawed by the British government. Twiddle the dial of an AM transistor radio and you would not have found a single UK radio station playing the hits of the day. It was crazy. Contemporary popular music, along with the latest fashions and art, had become Britain’s biggest cultural exports. The ‘British Invasion’ had taken America by storm a few years earlier. Liverpool’s Beatles were the most popular pop group in the world. Yet none of this music could be heard on radio in Britain. It was so crazy.

The British establishment, populated by the upper classes, had always looked down their monocled noses at popular culture. It had never touched their lives because they inhabited a world of people just like themselves who valued classical music, opera and English literature. Not only did pop music appear entirely frivolous to them, but it was an artform they found difficult to completely control. Not only did pop music’s lyrics (‘Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds’?) baffle their sensibilities, but they suspected songs were laced with messages (‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’?) that might incite rebellion against their rightful position at the apex of British society.

The radio waves of Britain had been tightly controlled by the British government almost since the earliest invention of the medium. Although commercial radio stations playing pop music had existed in the United States since 1920, Britain’s elite remained doggedly determined to maintain a firm grip on every item broadcast to a heathen population that needed to be managed and patronised. From its beginnings until the present day, our government-controlled BBC has been stuffed with Oxbridge graduates who resolutely uphold the class status quo.

Despite the birth of rock’n’roll in 1954, BBC radio had remained determined throughout the 1960’s to ignore the resultant resurgence of British popular music that held unprecedented appeal amongst the young generation. Though The Beatles had sold more records than any other musicians in history, you would never know it from listening to BBC radio. The Fab Four’s songs were mostly confined to occasional live guest appearances on the ‘BBC Light Programme’ that my father anxiously recorded on his second-hand Uher reel-to-reel tape recorder so that we could replay their beloved pop music ad nauseum. Otherwise, the BBC’s lone music radio station remained firmly stuck in a bygone era.

On 14 August 1967, the United Kingdom parliament had passed ‘The Marine Broadcasting Offences Act’ whose outcome was to ban the British population from listening to pop music... [continues]

Traitor at the gates of soul : 1990 : Tony Blackburn, Capital Radio versus KISS 100 FM, London

radio : music : writing : grantgoddard.co.uk : #stateschoolproud

[grantgoddard]

You can lead a boss to wisdom but you can’t make her an expert Expert Witness : 2006 : Claire Enders, Enders Analysis

Another day, another meeting. Though this one was most unusual. Not a word had been spoken during the past hour. I was sat in the basement Meetings Room. I had a pile of papers in front of me to discuss. I had thoroughly prepared. However, after arriving early, I was still the only person present. My boss had insisted upon this meeting. So where was she? There was no phone call or message to inform of a delay. One really is the loneliest number. Having waited an hour, I returned to my desk upstairs in the team office. Strangely, nothing would ever be mentioned to me about that meeting. It was as if it had never not happened.

Once is an accident. Twice might be a coincidence. Three times is an act of passive aggression. This should have been the last of three meetings demanded of me in an email from my boss’ personal assistant. Their purpose was to brief Claire Enders about the processes by which British radio stations make payments to songwriters for playing their music. She was to be grilled as an ‘Expert Witness’ during a landmark hearing of the obscure ‘Copyright Tribunal’ that had all the trappings of a court proceeding. However, she never arrived for any of those three meetings, never explained her absences and no subsequent attempt was made to reschedule them. For three hours across three days, I had been waiting in vain. The email to me had read:

“We have put in the diary 1pm on Wednesday 13th September for you to spend the afternoon with Grant. We have also blocked off 10th/11th October for your second session with Grant.”

Claire Enders had responded to me and two colleagues who were tackling non-radio issues:

“The initial format I would favour is seminars each w GG [me], JB and AE to outline the key issues covered by each and how we have dealt w them. I will take notes. Ideally, each of GG, JB and AE should this week prepare a set of materials for the topic covered which includes all pleadings and relevant points and witness statements divided by topic. I will... [continues]

You can lead a boss to wisdom but you can’t make her an expert Expert Witness : 2006 : Claire Enders, Enders Analysis

radio : music : writing : grantgoddard.co.uk : #stateschoolproud

[grantgoddard]

The birth and near death of licensed black music radio in London : 2010 : Choice FM, London

 31 March 1990 was the memorable day when London‘s first licensed [South London community of interest] black music station, ‘Choice 96.9 FM’, arrived on-air. Until then, the availability of black music on legal radio had been limited to a handful of specialist music shows, even though about half of the singles sales chart was filled with black music. The decision by then regulator the Independent Broadcasting Authority [IBA] to license a London black music station was part of a huge government ‘carrot and stick’ campaign to rid the country of pirate radio. On the one hand, new draconian laws had been introduced that made it a criminal offence even to wear a pirate radio tee-shirt or display a pirate radio car sticker. On the other hand, the establishment knew that some kind of olive branch had to be offered to the pirate stations and their large, loyal listenership.

Many pirate stations, having voluntarily closed down in the hope of becoming legitimate, were incensed when the IBA instead selected Choice FM for the new South London FM license. Its backers had no previous experience in the London pirate radio business, but had previously published ‘Root’ magazine for the black community in the 1970’s. Although it was impossible for one station to fill the gap left by the many pirates, Choice FM tried very hard to create a format that combined soul and reggae music with news for South London’s black community, which was precisely what its licence required. The station attracted a growing listenership and it brought a significant new audience to commercial radio that had hitherto been ignored by established stations. With Choice FM, the regulator succeeded in fulfilling two aspects of public broadcasting policy: widening the choice of stations available to the public; and filling gaps in the market for content that only pirate radio had supplied until then.

In 2000, Choice FM won a further licence to cover North London with an additional transmitter. For the first time, the station was now properly audible across the whole capital and had access to more listeners and more potential advertising revenues. Its listening doubled and, at its peak in 2006, Choice FM achieved a 2.8% share, placing it ahead of ‘TalkSport’ and ‘BBC London’ in the capital. Choice FM had no direct competitor in London, although indirectly some of its music had always overlapped ‘KISS FM’. The station’s future looked rosy.

However, the Choice FM shareholders must have realised just how much their little South London station was worth, at a time when commercial radio licences were being acquired at inflated prices. Already, in 1995, Choice FM shareholders had won a second licence in Birmingham, but had then sold the station in 1998 for £6m to the Chrysalis plc group, who turned it into another local outlet for its network dance music station ‘Galaxy FM’. At a stroke, the black community in Birmingham had lost a station that the regulator had awarded to serve them. Black radio in Birmingham was dead. The die was cast.

The then regulator, the Radio Authority, had rubber-stamped this acquisition, stating that it would not operate against the public interest. The Authority requested some token assurances: at least one Afro-Caribbean member on the station’s board; an academy for training young people, especially from the black community, in radio skills; and market research about the impact of the format change on the black community. None of these made any difference to what came out the loudspeaker. Birmingham’s black community was sold down the river.

Changes in UK media ownership rules were on the horizon that would soon allow commercial radio groups to own many more stations within a local market. As a result, in 2001, the UK’s then largest radio group, Capital Radio plc, acquired 19% of Choice FM’s London station for £3.3m with an option to acquire the rest. In 2003, it bought the remaining 81% for £11.7m in shares, valuing the London station at £14.4m. The Choice FM shareholders had cashed in their chips over a five-year period and had generated £21m from three radio licences. What would happen to Choice FM London now?

Graham Bryce, managing director of Capital Radio’s London rock station ‘Xfm’ (which Capital had acquired in 1998 for £12.6m), said then:

"Our vision is to build Choice into London's leading urban music station, becoming the number one choice for young urban Londoners. Longer term, we intend to fully exploit the use of digital technology to build Choice nationally into the UK's leading urban music station and the number one urban music brand."

Capital Radio and subsequent owners seemed to want to turn Choice FM into a station that competed directly with KISS FM (owned by rival EMAP plc). But they never seemed to understand that KISS FM was now a ‘dance/pop’ station, whereas Choice FM had always been firmly rooted in the black music tradition of soul, reggae and R&B. Such semantics seemed to be lost on Choice FM's new owners and on the regulator, but certainly not on Choice FM’s listeners, who had no interest in Kylie Minogue songs.

In 2004, Capital Radio moved Choice FM out of its South London base and into its London headquarters in Leicester Square. The station’s final link with the black community of South London it had been licensed to serve was discarded. In 2005, Capital Radio merged with another radio group, GWR plc, to form GCap Media plc. In March 2008, [offshore] Global Radio Ltd bought GCap Media for £375m. In July 2008, Choice FM managing director Ivor Etienne was suddenly made redundant. One of the station’s former founder shareholders commented:

“I’m disappointed that the new management decided to relieve Ivor Etienne so quickly. My concern is that I hope they will be able to keep the station to serve the community that it was originally licensed for.”

However, from this point forwards, it was obvious that new owner Global Radio had no interest in developing Choice FM as one of its key radio brands. In the most recent quarter, the station’s share of listening fell to an all-time low of 1.1% (since its audience has been measured Londonwide). Sadly, the station is now a shadow of its former self, even though it holds the only black music commercial radio licence in London (BBC digital black music station ‘1Xtra’ has failed to dent the London market, with only a 0.3% share).

This week, news emerged from Choice FM that its reggae programmes, which have been broadcast during weekday evenings since the station opened, will be rescheduled to the middle of the night (literally). One of the UK’s foremost reggae DJ's, Daddy Ernie, who has presented on Choice FM since its first day, will be relegated to the graveyard hours when nobody is listening. From 2003, after the Capital Radio takeover, reggae songs have been banished from the 0700 to 1900 daytime shows on Choice FM. Now the specialist shows will be removed from evenings, despite London being a world centre for reggae and having more reggae music shops than Jamaica.

Station owner Global Radio responded to criticism of these changes in ‘The Voice’ newspaper: “Choice [FM] has introduced a summer schedule which sees various changes to the station including the movement of some of our specialist shows.”

Once again, the regulator will roll over obligingly and rubber-stamp these changes. For Global Radio, the endgame must be to transform the standalone Choice FM station into a London outlet for its Galaxy FM network. At present, London-based advertisers and agencies can only listen to Galaxy on DAB or via the internet. A London Galaxy station on FM would bring in more revenue for the brand as a result of more listening hours and its higher profile in the advertising community. It would also provide a direct competitor to KISS FM London (ironic, because Galaxy FM had been launched in 1990 by an established commercial radio group as an out-of-London imitation of successful, London-only KISS FM). Global Radio’s argument to persuade the regulator will probably be that Choice FM’s audience has fallen to uneconomic levels. And whose fault was that?

Already, Global Radio’s website tells us that “Choice FM is also included as part of the Galaxy network” which “consists of evolving mainstream music supported by entertaining and relatable presenters.” And yet, according to Ofcom, Choice FM’s licence is still for “a targeted music, news and information service primarily for listeners of African and Afro-Caribbean origin in the Brixton area but with cross-over appeal to other listeners who appreciate urban contemporary black music.” How can both these assertions be true of a single station?

For the black community in London, and for fans of black music, this will be the final straw. Just as happened in Birmingham, the new owner and the regulator will have collectively sold Choice FM’s listeners down the river. Another station that used to broadcast unique content for a unique audience will have been wilfully destroyed in order to make it almost the same as an existing station, playing almost the same content. We have many commercial radio stations, but less and less diversity in the music they play. Radio regulation has failed us.

For Choice FM, the writing was on the wall in 2003 when Capital Radio bought the station and one (unidentified) former DJ commented:

“Choice [FM] was there for a reason [to be a black music station for black people], but that reason changed [since] 13 years ago. That’s why you’ve got over 30 pirate stations in London. If Choice FM kept to the reason why they started, you wouldn’t need all them stations. But Choice has become a commercial marketplace. They’ve sold the station out and they should just say they’ve sold the station out. What’s wrong with that? They have sold the station that was set up for the black community and they know they’ve done the black community wrong. But they’ve made some money and they’ve sold it. Why not let your listeners know?”

For me personally, as a black music fan and having listened to Daddy Ernie for twenty years, I am much saddened. In the 1970’s and 80’s, I had found little on the radio that interested me musically, so I listened to pirate stations and my own records. During those two decades, I actively campaigned for a wider range of radio stations to be licensed in the UK and, by the 1990’s, I had played a direct role in making that expansion of new radio services happen successfully. Where did it get us? Now, years later, I have gone back to listening mostly to pirate radio and my own records (and internet radio). I am sure I am not the only one.

The radio industry and the regulator seem not to understand one important reason why radio listening and revenues have been declining for most of the last decade. They need to examine how, through their decisions, they have consistently sold down the river their station audiences and the very citizens whom their radio licenses were specifically meant to serve. Listeners vote with their ‘off’ buttons when station owners renege on their licence promises and the regulator lets them. Choice FM is sadly just one example.

In 2006, a lone enlightened Ofcom officer, Robert Thelen-Bartholomew, had asked at a radio conference:

“Is there room to bring the content of illegal stations into the fold? One way or another, whether we like it or not, we have a large population out there listening to illegal radio. Why do they listen? We are trying to find out. But, if you listen to the stations, they are producing slightly different content and output [from licensed stations]. Some of it is very high quality. Some of it is very interesting. So, what options are there for bringing some of that content into mainstream radio?”

Seemingly, none. The last FM commercial radio licence the regulator offered in London was more than a decade ago. Last year, when two small South London FM stations (one licensed for a black music format) were closed by their owner, the regulator unilaterally decided not to re-advertise their commercial radio licences (see my story here). A pirate radio station has not been awarded a commercial radio licence by the regulator for two decades.

Why do pirate radio stations still exist? Because, just as in the 1970’s and 1980’s, there are huge gaps in the market for radio content that – in spite of BBC radio, commercial radio and their regulators – remain unfilled. It is no coincidence that the share of listening to ‘other’ radio stations (i.e. not BBC radio and not commercial radio) in London is near its all-time high at 3.1%.

Farewell, Choice FM. I knew you well for twenty years.

And, irony of ironies, we are in Black Music Month.

[thanks to Sharleen Anderson]

[Originally published in 2010 at https://grantgoddardradioblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/choice-fm-rip-birth-and-near-death-of.html . Three years subsequently, 'The Guardian' published a remarkably similar, shorter article 'RIP Choice FM' authored by Boya Dee.]

[Re-blogged at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/07/the-birth-and-near-death-of-licensed.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Tell your friends about dub : 1995 : King Tubby, 18 Dromilly Avenue, Kingston, Jamaica

 From: [email protected] (Lao Marzuki Zarief)

Newsgroups: rec.music.reggae

Subject: Reggae Dub wise !

Date: 29 May 1995 14:25:40 GMT

Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA)

Could someone recommend me some good dub stylee Lps (various artist).

email me at [email protected]

thanks in advance

-------------------------

From: grant <[email protected]>

Newsgroups: rec.music.reggae

Subject: Re: Reggae Dub wise !

Date: 8 Jun 1995 06:59:11 +0100

difficult to recommend budget titles for king tubby since most cd compilations and reissues are all full price. my pick of the reissues are:

king tubby's special 1973-1976 [trojan cdtrl 409]

this is the cd version of a double lp released in 1989 with excellent sleeve notes by reggae expert steve barrow and beautiful artwork. a totally fitting tribute and great music. the first lp is a straight reissue of "dubbing with the observer" with incredible versions of niney the observer productions from 1975. the second lp is bunny lee productions from 1974-76. worth every penny.

the agrovators: dub justice [attack atlp 110]

the agrovators: dub jackpot [attack atlp 111]

the agrovators: johnny in the echo chamber [attack atlp 106]

these are all compilations from 1990 on trojan's offshoot label, attack, and comprise some of the best mid 1970s b-sides from bunny lee productions on his justice and jackpot labels and his work with singer johnnie clarke. i have the vinyl versions but i think they're also out on cd with the "cdat" prefix instead of "atlp".

king tubby & friends: dub gone crazy [blood & fire bafcd 002]

a 1994 release of material from 1975-89 produced by bunny lee, again with great steve barrow sleeve notes and comprising some of the excellent versions found only on the b-sides of jamaican singles.

all these are uk-released cds at full price, so if you're in the us, i guess you'll have to pay import prices [even in the uk, they are US$21 each]. but they are all the genuine article and not cash-ins on king tubby's name, like many i have seen in the shops.

king tubby was not the only dub mixer/producer. check out errol t's work on the joe gibbs productions "african dub chapters 1-4" [out on cd, but i don't have the numbers]; keith hudson's work on the cd reissues of "brand" [pressure sounds pscd 004] and "pick a dub" [blood & fire bafcd 003]; and anything by augustus pablo [lots on cd].

happy listening!!

-- 

grant                                           e-mail:[email protected]

-------------------------

From: [email protected] (mAD sCIENCE 2o)

Newsgroups: rec.music.reggae

Subject: King Tubby Discography?

Date: 30 May 1995 16:55:25 GMT

Organization: Wolfe Internet Access, L.L.C.

I've been rediscovering King Tubby these last few weeks.  I'm trying to find an old album I used to have, but can't remember the title.  Does anyone have a discography they'd be willing to post?

Thanks,

ROmeo Fahl

-----

[email protected]

-------------------------

From: GRANT GODDARD <[email protected]>

Newsgroups: rec.music.reggae

Subject: Re: King Tubby Discography?

Date: 3 Jun 1995 22:16:18 +0100

ROmeo -

some of the best king tubby mixes were to be found on the b-sides of many hundreds of 7-inch singles that came out of JA in the 1970s. if you see any of these in secondhand shops, grab them - even if the a-side is not so hot, the dub can be incredible. otherwise, here are some vinyl albums from the period [though not entirely king tubby mixes] that you should look out for:

dub from the roots (ja:total sounds:1974)

the roots of dub (uk:grounation grol502:1975) 

shalom dub (uk:klik klp9002:1975) 

king tubby meets the aggrovators at dub station (uk:live & love lalp02:1975) 

king tubby meets the upsetter at the grass roots of dub (uk:fay music fmlp304/france:celluloid ltm1035/uk:studio 16 we101:1975) 

harry mudie meets king tubby's in dub conference vol. 1 (ja:moodisc hm108:1975) 

harry mudie meets king tubby's in dub conference vol. 2 (ja:moodisc hm110:1976) 

harry mudie meets king tubby's in dub conference vol. 3 (ja:moodisc hm112:1977) 

blackboard jungle dub [with lee perry/upsetters] (ja: us:clocktower:1981) 

dubbing with the observer [with niney/observer all stars] (uk:attack atlp1017:1975) 

king tubby's meets rockers uptown [with augustus pablo] (ja:yard music/us:clocktower:1977) 

rockers meets king tubby in a firehouse [with augustus pablo] (us:yard:1980) 

beware dub [with yabby U] (uk:grove music:1978) 

king tubby meets roots radics -dangerous dub [with ranking joe] (uk:copasetic coplp5002:1981) 

ghetto-ology dub [with sugar minnott] (ja:black roots:1981) 

surrounded by the dreads at the national arena (uk:studio 16 we102) 

1st, 2nd, 3rd generation of dub [with jammy/scientist] (uk:kg imperial kglp002) 

dance hall style dub (us:clocktower ctlp0118) 

dubbing in the backyard (uk:black music bmlp804) 

majestic dub (ja:star/uk:jet star ptplp1029) 

presents the roots of dub (us:clocktower ct084) 

prophesy of dub (ja:prophets/uk:prophets/us:tr international tr520:1976) 

the dubmaster (us:clocktower lpct0091) 

upset the upsetter (uk:live & love lap15) 

king tubby versus channel one studios (us:bumb bumlp101) 

rocker's almighty dub (us:clocktower lpct0102)

by no means is this a complete list!! i have only listed original vinyl LPs. since then, there have been innumerable re-compilations and re-issues of King Tubby material. beware!! beware!! many of the cd's i have seen in shops that bear king tubby's name may well not be mixed by king tubby - many were simply recorded or mixed in his studio. perhaps i will post a separate list of reissues at some point. 

...............................................................................

postscript - excerpt from my obituary of tubby/review of "harry mudie meets king tubby......vols 1/2/3" reissues in 1989:

"..............King Tubby's remix skills received scant attention outside the reggae world and, sadly, always remained a sideline to his electrical repair business and sound system work. Dub was the only truly innovative popular music to emerge from the 70s, and Tubby completely redefined the creative limits of what could be produced in a basic 4-track recording studio. His legacy is embodied in twelve dub LPs that are essential to any reggae collection. It's good to know that three of these are available again at long last."

City Limits magazine, 20 April 1989

...............................................................................

yours (in dub) - grant

[Excerpt from 'Reggae On The Internet: Volume 1' 154-page compendium of newsgroup posts, Reggae Archive, 1995]

[Originally blog published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/07/tell-your-friends-about-dub-1995-king.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Bob Marley sang “I remember when we used to sit in a government’s yard in Swedes Town”?? : 1995 : Catch The Words, Kenya

 From: [email protected] (Jerrelle Williams)

Newsgroups: rec.music.reggae

Subject: lyrics

Date: 5 Jun 1995 21:09:32 GMT

Organization: Netcom

Anyone know where I can get reggae lyrics? 

---------------------------------

From: grant <[email protected]>

Newsgroups: rec.music.reggae

Subject: Re: lyrics

Date: 7 Jun 1995 07:14:12 +0100

Organization: Demon Internet News Service

jerrelle -

one entertaining source of reggae lyrics can be obtained from: jkn productions, po box 57066, nairobi, kenya. they produce a series of little printed booklets called "catch the words" that sell in music shops for 45 kenyan shillings.

catch the words volume 29 includes the lyrics to bob marley's "legend" album. you'll be pleased to learn that "no woman no cry" includes the lines:

say i remember when we used to sit

in a government's yard in swedes town

over over trampling people graves

and they would mingle with the good people we meet.

and "get up stand up" includes the memorable lyrics:

preacher man only tell me heaven is only near

i know you don't know what life is really worth

he's as old as piece of gold

after story i've never been told

so now you see the right

yea to stand up for your rights.

and "waiting in vain" includes these immortal words of love:

like i've said, there's a continuation sound knocking on your door

and i still can knock some more

uuuh girl uuuh girl is it easy going

i wonna know now, for i do not want to mourn.

on page 32 of this booklet is printed the disclaimer:

"Every effort is made to ensure that all the information contained in the CATCH the WORDS is correct. However information can become out of date and author's or printers error(s) can creep in......."

other volumes worth a look at are: bob marley's "uprising" [not numbered]; gregory isaacs' "night nurse" [volume 18]; and don carlos and gold's "raving tonight" [volume 24]. they all provide hours of unexpected entertainment.

-- 

grant                                           e-mail:[email protected]

[Excerpt from 'Reggae On The Internet: Volume 1' 154-page compendium of newsgroup posts, Reggae Archive, 1995]

[Originally blog published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/06/bob-marley-sang-i-remember-when-we-used.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Aggrieved by UK government insistence it launch a national popular music radio station, the BBC unilaterally created a high culture network : 1945 : BBC Radio 3

 In terms of delivering value for money for the Licence Fee payer, ‘Radio 3’ is easily the most expensive of the BBC's five analogue radio networks. My calculations for 2009/10 show it had cost 8.5p per listener hour, compared to 1.7p for ‘Radio 4’, 2.5p for ‘Five Live’, 0.9p for ‘Radio 1’ and 0.6p for ‘Radio 2’.

There may be arguments about the artistic merit of Radio 3 (though I would argue exactly the same for Radios 1 and 2), but there is no denying that, in value for money terms, it is up there with the ‘BBC Asian Network’ [9.0p per listener hour] and ‘Radio Cymru’ [14.6p] on the expensive-ometer.

Remember the network's history. After World War Two, the BBC was 'persuaded' to continue the popular wartime ‘General Forces Programme’ as a new domestic network - the ‘Light Programme’. Until then, the BBC had resisted the notion of a full-time comedy and popular music network as horribly downmarket. At the same time, as a cultural response, the BBC made its own decision to launch the ‘Third Programme’ (renamed ‘Radio 3’ from 1967) on which then Director General WJ Haley promised "operas, plays, discussions, features will be given the fullest time their content needs."

As Sean Street wrote in his excellent account of UK radio from 1922 to 1945, 'Crossing The Ether': "The message for the old guard was clear: taste would not be undermined by change, culture would not be sacrificed for populism."

Radio 3 exists because the section of the BBC that would not be seen dead listening to Radio 2 (as the Light Programme was renamed from 1967) wanted their own high-brow radio station. The question is - should the rest of us still have to pay so highly for them to enjoy that privilege?

There is no doubt that Radio 3 produces some excellent unique programmes. The problem is that too few people ever get to hear them. And, if BBC Asian Network is still on the chopping board for these very reasons, how is it that Radio 3 has always managed to justify its continuing existence as a network that is virtually 'untouchable' when axes fall?

[Published reader comment to 'Radio 3 Is Letting Its Listeners Down', Sarah Spilsbury, The Guardian, 5 Oct 2011]

[Originally blog published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/06/aggrieved-by-uk-government-insistence.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Diversity within UK radio workforce largely confined to stations targeting minorities : 2010 : BBC Trust

 “Leadership of the [UK broadcast] industry appears to remain in the hands of predominantly white, able-bodied men”. Broadcast Training & Skills Regulator, Equal Opportunities Report 2008

In the United States, ‘diversity’ has been described as:

One of the “paramount goals of broadcast regulation in America”; 

“One of the foundation principles in communications policy”; 

“A broad principle to which appeal can be made on behalf of both neglected minorities and of consumer choice, or against monopoly and other restrictions”. 

American Professor Philip Napoli portrayed the objective of ‘diversity’ in US broadcasting policy as a derivative of First Amendment goals to promote informed decision-making, cultural pluralism, citizen welfare and a well-functioning democracy. Napoli described the ‘diversity’ objective in terms of a ‘marketplace of ideas’:

“Thus, the marketplace of ideas has been conceived by the courts, legal scholars, and policymakers as a key dimension of First Amendment freedoms, in which citizens are free to choose from a wide range of ideas (content diversity), delivered from a wide range of sources (source diversity). The citizens then partake of this diversity (exposure diversity) to increase their knowledge, encounter opposing viewpoints, and become well-informed decision-makers who are better capable of fulfilling their democratic responsibilities in a self-governing society”. 

Napoli created a flowchart that outlined the primary dimensions of diversity, their component parts and their presumed relationships:

Source Diversity → Content Diversity →       Exposure Diversity

1. Ownership 1. Program-Type Format 1. Horizontal

a. Programming     2. Demographic         2. Vertical

b. Outlet         3. Idea/Viewpoint

2. Workforce

In the United States, it was thought that the ultimate public policy goal of ‘exposure diversity’ could be achieved through significant regulatory intervention in the broadcast industry to forcibly create the antecedents ‘source diversity’ and ‘content diversity’. However, the latter interventions have remained mere proxies for the policy goal and, from empirical evidence over several decades of intervention, Napoli concluded that:

“The expectation that increased diversity of sources leads to increased diversity of content is far from a certainty

It may be that increases in content diversity should be considered essentially meaningless from a policy perspective if the additional content is ignored by the audience”. 

By contrast, in the United Kingdom, ‘diversity’ has not been a prime policy objective of broadcast regulation. In part, this derives from the historical difference in the development of broadcasting between the two countries. In the United States, broadcasting evolved as a wholly commercial industry, propelled by competing stations serving local markets. In Europe, the model was state-controlled broadcast monopolies serving national audiences, supplemented only relatively recently by commercial competitors. In the US, broadcast evolution has been bottom-up, whilst the European model was entirely top-down.

More recently in Europe, ‘diversity’ has come to be recognised as an important policy issue in media regulation. In 2003, the Council of Europe’s Committee of Ministers described ‘cultural diversity’ as an “essential public interest objective” in its member states’ measures to promote the democratic and social contribution of digital broadcasting. 

In the UK, a report commissioned by government agency NESTA in 2001 concluded that:

“Cultural diversity amongst viewers, broadcast employees, producers and broadcast suppliers has noticeably worsened during the last ten years

Over the last decade, there have been a decline in the numbers of black people employed in influential positions in broadcasting; a decline in the numbers of programmes targeting black viewers and a decline in the numbers of black-owned production companies being commissioned by broadcasters

Diversity tools such as ethnic minority supplier targets; contract compliance; ring fenced resources; and publicly available monitoring data, have been recommended by a variety of industry organisations but have not been adopted by many broadcasters”. 

The ‘diversity’ issue in broadcasting was placed centre stage when (as explained in a BBC presentation):

“In April 2000, a man stood up at the Race In The Media Awards in London and said … ‘The BBC needs to change dramatically if it is to be a serious player in 21st Century Britain.’ His name was Greg Dyke, Director General of the BBC”. 

As a result, then BBC director of sport, Peter Salmon, was appointed to champion cultural diversity within the BBC, and he pledged:

“Changing the culture of the BBC has been crucial to ensuring an atmosphere in which diversity can flourish. The ‘One BBC’ initiative, which encourages risk-taking, honest discussions, creativity and dynamism across the whole of the BBC, has been an integral part of supporting our wider aims around diversity – a BBC fit for the 21st Century Britain”. 

A decade after Dyke’s statement, it is instructive to document the levels of ‘diversity’ achieved in the UK radio industry as a whole, as well as in BBC radio. This is intended to help benchmark the extent to which independently commissioned radio content satisfies the ‘diversity’ requirement stipulated in the BBC Agreement. Borrowing the framework of Napoli’s flowchart, the issues of ‘source diversity’, ‘content diversity’ and ‘exposure diversity’ are examined in turn.

SOURCE DIVERSITY

1.  Ownership

As a consequence of the Licence Fee system by which public broadcasting is funded, it could be argued that the BBC belongs to all paying households in the United Kingdom. The headline data on the composition of the population demonstrate that:

50.9% of the total UK population are female (31.0 million); 

7.9% of the total UK population belong to ethnic minorities (4.6 million); 

17.2% of the total UK population are disabled (10.6 million); 

16.2% of the total UK population live in Wales, Scotland or Northern Ireland (6.9 million); 

5.4% of the total population of Great Britain believe in non-Christian religions (3.1 million). 

The increasing ‘diversity’ of the UK population in the 21st Century theoretically translates into a more diverse collective ownership of the BBC. Each of us expects something back from BBC radio in the form of content that reflects our particular citizenship, be that our gender, our geographical location, our ethnicity or simply our love of jazz music. This multiplicity of competing demands obviously presents a major challenge for the BBC, much of whose content is broadcast to mass audiences on national Networks.

In the commercial radio broadcast sector, consolidation permitted by the Communications Act 2003 has resulted in more concentrated ownership of the UK’s more than 300 commercial stations. Whereas, eight years ago, the three largest station owners accounted for 54% of commercial radio listening, they accounted for 75% in Q4 2009. The largest commercial radio group, Global Radio, was responsible for 39% of commercial radio listening in Q4 2009. 

At the same time, the number of commercial radio analogue stations has increased substantially from 106 in 1990 to more than 300 presently and, as a result, a more diverse range of content is now offered to listeners.  For example, the first commercial radio station to target an ethnic audience was licensed in 1990, and the first religious station in 1995. The DAB digital radio platform has also carried an increasing number of stations, although the reach of these services has been limited by the slow public take-up of DAB receiver hardware.

Ofcom does not publish data on the diversity of ownership of commercial radio licensees. However, the ownership of commercial radio would appear to have narrowed substantially as a result of consolidation. Although it is clearly not the BBC’s responsibility to balance the impact of less diverse ownership within the commercial radio sector, it nevertheless highlights the imperative for BBC radio to reflect the increasing diversity of the population it serves.

Napoli’s second issue of programming ownership has little relevance for the UK radio market because the overwhelming majority of content broadcast by both BBC and commercial radio is originated by the broadcaster itself, rather than sourced externally. Hence, the diversity of programme ownership is largely a product of the diversity in ownership of the broadcast outlets.

2.  Workforce

Empirical data outlining the diversity of the radio broadcasting workforce derive from three sources: Skillset, the Broadcast Training & Skills Regulator and the BBC.

Skillset, the Sector Skills Council for the creative media industries, conducted an Employment Census in 2009 which estimated that 19,900 persons were employed in the radio broadcasting industry (BBC and commercial). Of the total:

16% were freelance

47% were female

7.9% were from ethnic minorities

2.6% were disabled. 

These results were extrapolated from only 77 completed questionnaires returned from employers in the broadcast radio sector and from 9 in the community radio sector.  This response rate may also explain Skillset’s estimate that, of 400 chief executives employed in radio broadcasting, 100 are freelance, 100 are female, 50 are from ethnic minorities and 50 are disabled. 

Within its analysis of employment in the radio sector, Skillset noted that:

Women make up almost half the workforce, a greater proportion than that of the audiovisual industry as a whole

The radio industry employs a low proportion of ethnic minority staff relative to its locations in London, Northwest and Southeast England, where 60% of the radio workforce is located

In London, 11% of the radio workforce is from ethnic minorities, whereas 25% of the capital’s population of working age is from ethnic minorities

Disabled people comprise a higher proportion of the radio workforce than in the audiovisual industry as a whole

The age profile of the radio workforce is slightly older than that of the creative media workforce as a whole. 

Skillset’s ‘Diversity Strategy’ for the media sector stated:

“Diversity, the drive to create a genuinely inclusive culture, is increasingly recognised as a business critical issue. Managing diversity successfully helps business to respond effectively to ever more diverse markets and to achieve new levels of creativity and innovation. … However, one look at the overall demographic profile of the sector’s workforce and it becomes apparent that there is still a long way to go to make it truly inclusive of our society as a whole”. 

Skillset estimated that 48% of the total radio industry workforce is employed by the BBC, 43% by commercial radio, and 9% by community radio.  Skillset found that the proportion of freelancers in the commercial radio sector was twice the proportion working in BBC radio. 

The Broadcast Training & Skills Regulator [BTSR] collects data from broadcasters regarding the promotion of equal opportunities and training, as required by Section 337 of the Communications Act 2003. Broadcasters employing fewer than 21 staff (the majority of local commercial radio stations) are exempt from this requirement to supply data. The latest BTSR report, based on 2008 data, collated returns from 29 companies in radio, and nine companies working in both radio and television.  Unfortunately, data from the latter nine bi-media companies (which probably include the BBC, Bauer and UTV) are not separated into ‘radio’ and ‘television’, making it impossible to build up a complete picture of the radio sector.

BTSR data from the returns of 29 radio-only companies found that 7,021 people were employed in radio broadcasting in 2008, of which:

46.1% were female, of which:

12.7% at board level were female

31.8% in senior management were female

64.2% in administrative & support functions were female

38.4% on freelance or contract basis were female

3.2% were from ethnic minorities, of which:

11.4% at board level (9 persons) were from ethnic minorities

3.6% in senior management (7 persons) were from ethnic minorities

2.5% in administrative & support functions were from ethnic minorities

1.4% on freelance or contract basis were from ethnic minorities

0.4% were disabled (30 persons)

1.3% at board level (1 person) were disabled

0% in senior management were disabled

0.1% on freelance or contract basis were disabled. 

Because this data must be assumed to exclude BBC radio personnel, it would seem to indicate relatively low levels of diversity achieved by respondents from the commercial radio sector within the BTSR sample.

BTSR noted that, for the broadcast industry as a whole, reports published by Ofcom “indicated that little progress was being made by the industry overall in promoting equality of opportunity”. It concluded:

“Despite several broadcasters taking some action to promote Equal Opportunities, the employment data collected for this report indicates that barriers persist to recruiting people with a disability, in particular, as well as people from minority ethnic groups, to the industry. It has been commented on elsewhere that the broadcast industry lacks a strategic approach to managing equality and diversity. Indeed, the results of this analysis indicate that very few individual broadcasters have a strategic approach to managing Equal Opportunities or diversity”. 

Across its total workforce, the BBC has adopted numerical goals for achieving diversity. The current targets for delivery by December 2012 are:

12.5% from ethnic minorities (actual 12.2% at 31 December 2009)

7% from ethnic minorities in senior management (actual 5.6% at 31 December 2009)

5.5% disabled (actual 4.3% at 31 December 2009)

4.5% disabled in senior management (actual 3.4% at 31 December 2009). 

Skillset’s 2006 Employment Census found that, in BBC radio, 11% of the workforce was from ethnic minorities and noted that “the majority of the BBC workforce (some 60%) is based in London, where 24% of the working population is from an ethnic minority”.  In contrast, it found that only 3% of the commercial radio workforce was from ethnic minorities, a proportion close to the BTSR data.  From this evidence, BBC radio appears to be achieving considerably greater ethnic diversity amongst its workforce than the commercial radio sector.

Analysis of the workforce diversity data for the BBC’s Audio & Music division (also referred to in this report as ‘BBC Network Radio’) at year-end 2009 showed that it achieved above average diversity for gender, but below average for ethnic minorities and the disabled, compared to the BBC as a whole. Much of Audio & Music’s complement of ethnic minority staff was accounted for by two digital radio Networks, 1Xtra and the Asian Network, both of which target ethnic minority audiences. These results highlight the relatively low ethnic diversity in the workforces of the BBC’s longer established radio Networks such as Radio 2, 3 and 4, particularly as all are London-based.

In January 2009, the trade union BECTU and the Radio Independents Group had organised an event in London specifically aimed at encouraging ethnic minority professionals to work in independent radio production. The publicity for the ‘Move On Up’ open day emphasised the significance of the independent radio production sector as a means to secure employment in the radio broadcast industry:

“Working with radio indies is a key route into the industry, and engaging with these executives provides a whole new set of opportunities”.

[Excerpt from my 'independent' 245-page report 'Independent Radio Productions Commissioned By The BBC' for the BBC Trust in 2010]

[Commissioned by the BBC Trust to research, author and present a report on its independent productions to a meeting of its main board, I pursued interviews with BBC Radio managers. Some refused to meet, some never supplied requested data and some merely patronised me, seemingly oblivious that they were public servants whose salaries and generous pensions were funded by the British population. My supposedly 'independent' report was edited line-by-line by the BBC's Gareth Barr who insisted several chapters be expunged into appendices. I was not invited to the board meeting that belatedly considered the edited version of my report which now omitted all appendices (including this and my previous blog post). During my research, the BBC's then Senior Diversity Manager had generously offered me relevant data to create the above chart of BBC Radio workforce diversity. Within months, her ten-year tenure at the BBC ended.]

[Originally blog published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/06/diversity-within-uk-radio-workforce.html ]

[grantgoddard]

Prising open Britain's rarefied airwaves to independent productions : 1930-2010 : BBC Radio

 In 1930, while the new London headquarters of the BBC, Broadcasting House, were being built, a venture called the International Broadcasting Company [IBC] launched from adjacent premises in Hallam Street.  It sold commercial airtime to British advertisers and incorporated these messages into pre-recorded and live programmes for broadcast on European radio stations whose signals were audible in the UK. By 1938, IBC’s radio production facilities were some of the most sophisticated in London, as noted in its publicity material:

“…. our programme unit has been responsible for nearly five thousand broadcasts on behalf of advertisers. It is currently handling productions ranging from a single voice to a cast of dozens of artistes. Any advertising agent can place this highly-skilled and efficiently-equipped organisation at the disposal of his client at no higher cost than if he were producing programmes within his own Company”. 

In 1933, American advertising agency J. Walter Thompson moved into Bush House in London’s Aldwych and, by 1937, had built a state-of-the-art recording facility that rivalled the BBC’s in order to produce radio programmes for broadcast on European stations using:

“…. fully equipped recording studios in the basement of the South East Wing, where previously there had been a swimming pool. The studio contained two full-sized concert grand pianos, one a Chappell, the other a Steinway”. 

After the outbreak of the Second World War, the BBC became the beneficiary of these accumulated investments in independent radio production facilities because:

“when the BBC took over Bush House in wartime for overseas broadcasting, the JWT studios and tape-recorders became an immediate asset for the propaganda drive”. 

Although the War necessitated an interruption to the practice of recording commercial radio programmes in London for broadcast on continental stations, the model was resumed in 1946, primarily through the evening English language broadcasts of Radio Luxembourg which ran until 1992. A number of independent radio production companies emerged in the post-war period, including Ross Radio Productions which, at its peak, was making 30 programmes per week using the IBC studios at 35 Portland Place, near to Broadcasting House. 

After commercial radio was launched in 1973, its regulator established a ‘Programme Sharing Unit’ which enabled programmes made by one local station to be distributed free to stations in other local markets for broadcast, an initiative that created a quasi-national market in the sector for radio productions.  In 1987, a company that grew out of Manchester based Piccadilly Radio, PPM Radiowaves, started to distribute its own programmes to local commercial radio stations.

BBC Network Radio started making independent radio commissions on an ad hoc basis in 1990, when a BBC memo had noted:

“BBC Radio has been considering the use of independent productions in recent years and it is highly probable that Radio 5 will shortly commission an independent production. The volume of such programmes will, however, be very small (certainly by comparison with BBC Television)”. 

It was recognised that the economic model for an independent radio production sector would prove problematic:

“The much lower production costs in Radio mean that there is little or no potential profit for the independent producer from making the programme(s) …”. 

The BBC considered the initial independent productions commissioned by Radio 5 to “be a pilot in this field [which] will enable us to assess clearly how such operations might best be handled in the future”. It cautioned: “How this market is likely to develop is uncertain”. 

In April 1991, David Hatch, then managing director of BBC Radio, told a BBC Board of Management meeting that:

“… guidelines had been drawn up for the benefit of network controllers and heads of department on commissioning radio programmes from independent producers. They would be sent to the independent sector and to the talent unions for comment before being adopted”. 

These guidelines were carefully worded so as to avoid the issue of the comparative costs of independent and in-house BBC productions. The member of staff charged with the task noted in a memo:

“I have revised the wording in paragraph 4.1, which is now silent on the question of whether we expect independent productions to cost more or less than our own programmes”. 

However, a rate card for independent productions was circulated to BBC Network Radio controllers which suggested an average price of £2,782 per hour and offered guide prices for particular programme types:

£1,180 per hour for music programmes on Radio 1

£1,730 per hour for music programmes on Radio 2

£9,130 per hour for Light Entertainment programmes

£5,785 per hour for religious programmes

£3,005 per hour for music programmes on Radio 3

£7,780 per hour for Magazine programmes

£8,995 per hour for Features, Art & Education programmes

£10,430 per hour for drama programmes. 

David Hatch told the BBC Board of Management that “the policy was to give gentle encouragement to a sector which was now in its infancy” and he noted several potential benefits for the BBC:

“One was to give the BBC access to programme material that might not otherwise be available

The second was the possibility of sharing costs with a producer who could sell the relevant programme to other markets

Thirdly, the BBC would be able to demonstrate that it was primarily concerned with the listener and not determined to defend the existing arrangements. By taking the initiative, it would be more likely to avoid the imposition of a quota”. 

In October 1991, a BBC Task Force chaired by Mark Byford, then controller of regional broadcasting, published a report entitled ‘The BBC and the Independent Programme Makers’.  Much of the report was concerned with the BBC’s ability to meet the 25% quota for independently produced television programmes that had been stipulated in the 1990 Broadcasting Act. However, one of the three key issues considered by the report concerned “the development of independently made programmes on BBC radio” which, until then, had only existed on an ad hoc basis. 

The narrative of the BBC report referred to the principal reasons for commissioning independent programmes across radio and television:

“Independent programme makers will play an increasingly important role at the BBC. The best have proved that they have the ability to provide high quality and distinctive programmes. As well as bringing fresh ideas, they enable the BBC to ensure that its costs and work practices are as efficient as possible. The BBC must demonstrate more forcefully its commitment to the independent sector”. 

Amongst the report’s 30 recommendations were several that proposed changes to BBC working practices:

“Recommendation 5: The BBC must not set a fixed level of in-house or independent commissions. The size of in-house teams will stand or fall on the quality of their ideas and programmes and their efficiency. They must compete on level terms with the independent sector.

Recommendation 6: The BBC will continue to need a substantial programme making capability and resource capacity. However, there must be no minimum level set for an in-house ‘critical mass.’

Recommendation 7: Staffing levels inside the BBC ought to be maintained at a trough level to fulfil only the core in-house programme making requirements at the time. Flexibility will become the key factor for future staffing levels and contractual employment. The ‘critical mass’ of in-house production will be retained on the basis of its talent…”. 

The report did not shy away from the substantial internal impact of the BBC adopting a policy to increase the proportion of its broadcast output provided by external producers:

“Clearly, as more and more of the licence-payers’ money is being used to fund independent programming, there is, equally, less and less money available for in-house production. The extra money to finance the new commissioning of independents must come from a proportionate internal reduction. Hundreds of BBC jobs have been lost and the resource capacity has been reduced significantly, particularly in the closure of a number of television studios and editing facilities”. 

Included in the report, alongside its recommendations, was a manifesto-style statement entitled ‘The Future Relationship between the BBC and the Independents’ which noted:

“The BBC must improve its relationship with the independent industry. It must be more open. It must be more efficient in its dealings with independent programme makers.

The commissioning process must be seen to be open, fair and consistent.

Although considerable progress has been made recently, the BBC must create a stronger perception that it is embracing Independents willingly. It must examine its present commissioning methods and speed up the decision-making process. Commissioning must be more responsive and more flexible.

There is still a perception, felt inside and outside the BBC, that some senior programme commissioners have too many ties to in-house production: ties of loyalty, of managerial necessity, of instinctive self protection and of ‘empire building’. These attitudes are unacceptable and must be transformed”. 

The report was very clear in envisaging that the relationship between the BBC and the independent production sector would not be conducted purely at arms length:

“Recommendation 11: The best independent companies and their best programmes must be attracted to the BBC rather than its competitors. Independents must be recognised as being key players in fulfilling the BBC’s television mission ‘to provide the best television service in the world’. They must be treated as colleagues, not enemies.

Recommendation 12: The BBC must be more open about its commissioning. It must be willing to publish all relevant data with more authority and confidence. It must ensure that it establishes a clear and recognised method for producing and analysing statistics, agreed with the relevant outside bodies.

Recommendation 17: More independent programme makers must be encouraged to play an active part in the BBC programme review process”. 

The final five of the report’s recommendations concerned what was referred to as “the development of independently made programmes on BBC radio". The narrative explained:

“At present, there is no radio independent programme production sector of any consequence in Britain. The main reason has been the dominance of the BBC in network radio broadcasting.

BBC radio would benefit from the establishment of a radio independent programme making industry.

Many senior staff in BBC radio are dismissive of the concept of commissioning independents. They show a resistant attitude similar to that demonstrated by their television colleagues a decade ago.

As well as ‘opening up’ the airwaves to new ideas, new programme styles and new work practices, an independent radio sector would play a key role in testing the efficiency levels of in-house production. It would allow a more accurate total costing system and an internal market philosophy to be introduced”. 

These statements demonstrated that it was the BBC’s initiative to develop an independent radio production sector, rather than a reaction to external pressures. In the television medium, an independent production sector had flourished following the launch of Channel 4 in 1982, all of whose output was externally commissioned. The report noted that, by 1991, there were “around a thousand companies” engaged in independent television production, compared to “only a handful of radio independents”. 

The report admitted that “throughout the early 1980s, the BBC resisted any moves to use [television] independents at significant levels” and only capitulated following “a fierce and successful lobbying campaign […] conducted by the independents”.  In developing the commissioning of independent productions within its television output, the report accepted that “the BBC was deemed to be slow off the mark”.  Having been bruised by mounting external pressures in the television sector, the BBC was keen to demonstrate that it could take a more pro-active role in introducing independent productions into its radio output. In this respect, the report proposed:

“Recommendation 26: The BBC must encourage a radio independent programme making sector in order to introduce fresh ideas and to ensure that its costs and work practices are, and remain, efficient and competitive.

Recommendation 27: The BBC must set clear targets for independent commissions across all Network radio starting in 1992. The aim should be for 15% of all network radio output to be made outside by 1996, to be phased over the five year period.

Recommendation 28: Specialist music programming on Radio 1, Radio 2 and Radio 3, and comedy, features strands, factual programmes, entertainment and drama on all networks should be immediate targets.

Recommendation 29: Bi-media initiatives with established leading independent television companies ought to be identified as part of the process.

Recommendation 30: Bi-media forums involving programme departments inside the BBC – e.g. comedy, entertainment, youth programming, current affairs – should be held at least once a year to discuss possible bi-media ventures with independent companies”. 

These recommendations were noteworthy on two counts. Firstly, the proposed independent quota of 15% was to be applied to the entire output of BBC Network radio, not to a restricted subset of ‘eligible’ programmes, as is presently the situation.

Secondly, the BBC’s ‘bi-media’ proposals envisaged that the commissioning process for independent radio productions would become part of a pan-BBC system organised around genres or programme types. This has not happened, a result of which is that the radio commissioning system remains embedded within individual radio Networks, each of which has its own procedures for submitting proposals and commissioning independently produced content. As a result, the notion that independent content suppliers could eventually become integrated into the wider BBC eco-structure has not been realised.

Six months prior to completion of this Task Force report, BBC Network Radio had announced publicly the launch of a £250,000 fund to commission independently produced programmes for broadcast on its five national Networks. David Hatch had said he hoped the money would “kick-start the infant radio sector into sustainable orbit”.  However, the Task Force was of the opinion that this sum was “insufficient to create a flourishing independent sector”. 

In his speech launching the fund, Hatch had outlined his hopes for the role of the independent radio production sector:

“We strongly believe that there should be more radio; not more of the same, but more genuine choice. There is an opportunity to move from the current set menu to ‘à la carte’. During the ‘90s, I hope independents will make ever increasing contributions to the BBC, bringing new voices, talents, skills and ideas to our output and listeners”. 

In October 1991, Hatch told the BBC Board of Management that “no significant independent [production] sector yet existed in radio”.  Later that month, an ‘open day’ for potential independent radio suppliers to BBC radio was organised in the Concert Hall in Broadcasting House, at which Hatch reiterated his commitment to “nurturing an independent radio sector”. 

Afterwards, it was reported to the BBC Board of Management that:

“… the occasion had aroused keen interest. Some 350 people had attended and nearly 100 more had had to be turned away for lack of space, though their names had been taken and they had been promised a tape-recording of the proceedings. … Notwithstanding the large attendance at the seminar, the number of genuine independent production companies was still very small. Most of those who had come were individuals working freelance”. 

At its December 1991 meeting, the BBC Governors agreed a proposal to:

“… set clear targets for independent commissions across all network radio, starting in 1992. … Further action on any of these [Task Force] recommendations will return to the Board of Management for consideration”. 

Subsequently, the 15% quota for independent radio productions, advocated by the Task Force report, was reduced to 10%. A BBC memo noted:

“ … some of those who served on the ‘Independents’ Task Force now consider the 15% target for radio to be over optimistic, although there is no doubting the Corporate appetite for Radio to follow Television’s lead on Independent Production as a major plank in the BBC’s bid for Charter Renewal [in 1996]”. 

In July 1992, in his keynote speech to the Radio Festival in Birmingham, then BBC director general Sir Michael Checkland announced that a 10% voluntary target would be achieved by 1996/7. The BBC believed that this target would:

“Demonstrate real commitment to develop the Independent Sector in Radio

Be both challenging and stretching, but realistic

Take account of the current level of development of the Radio Independent Production Sector

Establish a critical mass of Independent Producers and external facilities

Measure performance against a clear benchmarks [sic]”. 

It was at this point that the notion of ‘qualifying output’ for the independent productions quota was applied to Network Radio, adopting existing criteria used for the statutory television quota which excluded live sports coverage and repeats from the metric. Additionally, news and current affairs programmes were excluded because they were the responsibility of a different BBC directorate.  However, the long-term policy remained, as recommended by the Task Force, that competition for commissions should eventually embrace all areas of radio output, as a BBC policy document emphasised:

“Network Radio has no intention of ‘ring fencing’ areas of output as unsuitable for Independent Production or for wholesale transfer of entire production specialism [sic] into the Independent Sector. However, given the early stage of development of the Radio independent Sector and the complex nature of much of Network Radio output, it seems likely that Independent Commissions for live programmes, and those in complex journalistic areas and highly specialised areas, may be fewer in number in the early years”. 

It was envisaged that the commissioning decisions would be made by departmental heads and editors:

“There are currently no plans to establish a central Independent Commissioning Unit as it is thought that this would be too far removed from the normal editorial process (as well as creating a new layer of administration during a period of Corporate contraction)”. 

The financial aspects of commissioning independent productions were reiterated in the report:

“Cost cutting is not a primary aim of the move towards Independent Production, however Network Radio could not sanction the use of Licence Fee payers’ funds to external productions that are more expensive than the full internal costs of a similar programme. The Producer Choice initiative will shortly allow such a realistic comparison”. 

Also, the consequences for in-house production departments were made clear:

“During 1992/3, a limited additional budget has been made available to Network Radio to encourage Independent Production but, beyond this point, such commissions will need to be funded directly from reductions in in-house commissions. It is crucial that Network Radio avoids the worst excesses of ‘double spend’ and that, as Independent Production increases, there is an equal decrease in in-house production capacity, support services, etc”. 

Asked about the financial information required from independent producers, the chief accountant for BBC radio commented:

“I don’t think it is our business to ask an independent producer to prepare a budget. What we want from them is a price quotation. If that requires them to prepare a budget, that is their affair”. 

During 1992, the BBC held a series of ‘Independents Day’ seminars for potential radio programme suppliers, covering topics such as the drafting of programme proposals, technical quality of productions, contracts and budgets.  Participants were given an accompanying handbook, a set of BBC Guidelines and cassette recordings of Q&A sessions between David Hatch and each of the five Network controllers. A questionnaire circulated to potential programme suppliers had suggested to the BBC that sixty independent radio production companies could be in existence by 1996/7.

Internally, the BBC tried to determine the extent of redundancies in programme production that the policy to commission external programmes would necessitate, as evidenced by a memo sent to all BBC radio departments:

“… I would be grateful also if Production Business Unit Managers could give thought to the likely implications of Independent Production in their area on internal staff and studio resources. In other words, now you are aware from your Controllers of the expected targets for Independent Production from your Department, could you make a rough estimate of the possible reductions in internal staff, contract staff, studio usage, etc. that will result”. 

A BBC policy statement on independent radio production was attached to the memo. It documented very clearly the initial strategies for commissioning external content:

“Independent Production has been slower to emerge in UK Radio than Television. The commercial sector of Radio is unlikely to represent a major source of growth for Independent Production, but the BBC has decided to take a lead in nurturing a valuable source of new ideas, programme making techniques and facilities. After experimenting with a number of Independent Commissions, the BBC formally committed itself to the concept of Independent Production in Network Radio in 1991. The reasons for this are as follows:

In an increasingly fragmented media industry, key talent may only be available to the Corporation via Independent Production

Independent Production offers a fresh source of creativity to assist Network Controllers meet editorial objectives

It is hoped that new perspectives on programme making, both editorially and in terms of production, will emerge

Independent Production offers a useful source of cost comparison with internal production and other sources of programme material”. 

However, after launching the initiative, the BBC became increasingly aware that the potential profitability of the nascent independent radio production section was not guaranteed. Bill Morris, special assistant to the managing director of BBC Network Radio, told independents that they would need to generate a significant volume of output in order to become commercially viable:

“I would not want to discourage people putting forward ideas for single documentaries. But a look at the economics of radio tells you that you won’t be hugely viable if you only offer one-off documentaries. Experience from TV suggests this pattern will apply to radio”. 

Morris promised that independent commissions would not become a dumping ground for cheap, off-peak radio programming:

“We are not going into this as a cost cutting measure. That would be disadvantageous in terms of the programming we might get”. 

Some within BBC Network Radio expressed concerns about the impact and the quality of independent radio productions. For example, the then Radio 4 controller noted that “there is concern about the amount of radio talent outside our doors”.  The editor of one production department noted that her team were “distressed to discover that only their sort of output was being offered to independents on Radios 3 and 4” which “led them to think that this department will be the only one to bear staff cuts”.  Another department head commented:

“What I will not do is invite independent commissions on behalf of second-rate freelances or inexperienced wannabes who have not previously worked for Radio 4”. 

There was also concern within the BBC about the capacity of the independent production sector. Only 11 companies had attended an ‘Independents’ Day’ seminar organised in December 1992 (although the £200 fee may have proven a barrier). A memo noted:

“Last autumn’s Concert Hall Open Meeting suggested that there might be a wealth of Independent Producers awaiting the chance to meet Commissions from Network Radio. With the benefit of hindsight, this perception may be premature. Many of those who attended were solo freelances without business or technical facilities, or access to them. There appears to be less than 20 active Radio Independent Production Companies, and a number of these are predominantly television organisations seeking to diversify or use spare capacity”. 

Two initiatives surfaced within the BBC to help it fulfil its 10% quota commitment: ‘sweetheart’ deals and ‘privatisation’. One production department head enquired:

“What is/will be our position on sweet-heart deals? This is crucial. If funds are going to be made available to offer attractive redundancy packages to encourage good producers to provide the foundation for a quality independent sector, then we need to know …”. 

Another production department head suggested that “Pebble Mill R4 strands might be privatised”, thus helping to achieve the quota by “encouraging staff producers to go independent, in some cases taking established strands with them”. 

The controller of Radio 4 supplied a list of “strands we propose to ‘privatise’ either in full or in part for 1993/4 and 1994/5” that included ‘Gardeners’ Question Time’, ‘In The Psychiatrist’s Chair’, ‘Seeds Of Faith’ and ‘Down Your Way’. 

In 1993, having succeeded David Hatch as managing director of BBC Radio, former Channel 4 executive Liz Forgan reviewed the Networks’ commissioning processes and expressed doubts that the independent radio production sector was sufficiently viable.  She noted that there was no sign of independent productions being commissioned by the commercial radio sector and questioned the viability of independents making programmes solely for the BBC. Forgan also expressed concern about the feasibility of the Network Radio target of 2,700 hours of independent radio productions to be commissioned in total across all Networks by 1995.

In response to such doubts about the sector’s capability to fulfil the BBC quota, a new trade organisation, the Independent Association of Radio Producers, was created and its first meeting was held in May 1993.  The BBC took an active role in its organisation and Bill Morris, special assistant to Liz Forgan, mailed out agendas for the initial meeting to producers and potential producers who had expressed an interest in supplying the BBC.

In conclusion, it is evident that the BBC decided to take the lead role in the creation of a ‘new’ independent radio production sector in 1992. Coincidentally, this was the same year that Radio Luxembourg finally closed its long-running English language service and, with it, withered the last vestiges of the ‘old’ independent radio production sector that had boomed in London’s post-War period.

The BBC decision to introduce independently commissioned programmes to its Network Radio output led directly to the sector that exists today. That decision and its consequences had not been taken lightly by the BBC, as a memo in 1992 had noted:

“If we seek to increase the number of Independently Produced programmes, BBC Network Radio will need to do more than express our enthusiasm. We shall have to grow the Independent Industry and offer it support and sustenance until it reaches any level of maturity. There appears to be no other source which we can look to for help in this”. 

[Excerpt from my 'independent' 245-page report 'Independent Radio Productions Commissioned By The BBC' for the BBC Trust in 2010]

[Originally blog published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/06/prising-open-britains-rarefied-airwaves.html ]

[grantgoddard]

KISS FM rejected, government awards first London-wide radio station in 16 years to its jazz codger chums : 1989 : Jazz FM, London

 Alongside the revolution in television broadcasting, a similar battle of the airwaves is being waged on the radio. Will this forever wipe away the narrow choices offered by existing stations? Or is it possible to have faith in a revolution being waged from Downing Street? Grant Goddard examines the background to the first franchise application in London and looks at the way ahead for both winners and losers.

It was a little after 6am when Gordon Mac made his first phone call to the Independent Broadcasting Authority [IBA]. This was the long-awaited day when it would be announced whether his station ‘KISS FM’ had won the new London radio licence. But, despite an assurance that someone would be at work in the IBA’s Radio Division at this time, a recorded message merely told him to call again during normal office hours.

Mac was bursting to know whether the last seven month’s work making a huge written application to the IBA had been a success. KISS FM had earned an enviable reputation as London’s best dance music station during four years of pirate broadcasting.

But transmissions had been stopped from December ’88, in line with the government’s demands, to try and win the single London FM licence advertised by the IBA.

Mac left home in a hurry and drove across town to the KISS FM office in Finsbury Park. The rail strike had already clogged the streets with traffic, leaving him too much time to ponder the outcome of this crazy licence lottery.

By the time he reached the office just after 8am, the day’s post had already been delivered. The embossed IBA envelope enclosed a two-page letter, but the second sentence said it all: “I am afraid the decision is, for you and your colleagues, a disappointing one.”

Thirty other applicants were opening similarly apologetic letters across the city, but there was one group who could now celebrate in style – ‘London Jazz Radio’ [LJR] had just won the first new city-wide music radio licence since ‘Capital Radio’ in 1973.

The IBA’s press conference that afternoon was a strangely defensive affair. There were not many questions about LJR, but plenty of time was spent discussing why KISS FM had failed to win. Though the IBA refused to elaborate on the relative placings of the 31 losers, KISS FM was definitely in the short-list of five or six, and most probably the runner-up.

The awkward sensitivity shown towards KISS FM’s rejection reflects an awareness that they were certainly the public’s choice for a new London station. KISS FM was the only applicant to have already established a strong awareness among Londoners of its name, its music and its presenters.

The recent success of KISS FM team members Coldcut, Jazzie B, Richie Rich and Derek B in the pop charts has confirmed the station’s role as an important catalyst in the growth of home-produced dance music.

A further embarrassment was caused as this affair was the second occasion in recent years when a carrot has been dangled in front of pirate broadcasters to induce them to quit the airwaves. And the second time the carrot has been unexpectedly pulled away at the last minute.

The first voluntary pirate shutdown happened in 1985 when the Home Office encouraged them to apply for experimental community radio licences. Then, after lengthy prevarication and the receipt of 286 applications, the plan was abandoned.

The second carrot was offered last year with the unveiling of the IBA’s ‘incremental contract’ scheme for 21 new stations. Only those pirates who quit the airwaves before 1 January 1989 would be allowed to apply, so several stations (including KISS FM) duly complied and shut down. So now that the London licence has been awarded to a wholly non-pirate group, it was hardly surprising to see yet another carrot pulled out of the bag and shoved in KISS FM’s face.

“KISS FM put in a very strong application,” admits Peter Baldwin, the IBA’s director of radio. “IBA members felt very strongly that there were a number of applicant groups who could have been offered a contract, and we are seeking the government’s agreement to release additional frequencies so we can broaden the offers to these applicant groups.”

So KISS FM could be given a licence soon as a sort of prize for runners up?

“One has no idea where KISS FM will come in that,” says Baldwin, “but I’m bound to say that, given the government’s attitude towards pirate broadcasting, I think it would be imprudent for anyone to go back on the air if they have an aspiration towards broadcasting [legally].”

But this third carrot sounds equally precarious if it depends on the IBA’s success in evincing government agreement to more stations.

“Two more FM frequencies could be available in a short space of time – six to nine months,” explains Baldwin. “It would be for the government to decide. The IBA’s view is ‘should the listeners of London who haven’t got certain genres of broadcasting have to wait 18 months for that moment to arrive?’”

So the message to KISS FM is: sit tight, don’t do anything stupid (like return to piracy) and, some day soon, you may yet win a licence if we can persuade the Home Secretary of its political expediency.

Back in the KISS FM office, the disappointment of not winning is evident in the grim faces of a small group of station staff and presenters who are answering a stream of phone calls from well-wishers and listeners wanting to know the outcome. Three bottles of champagne sit unopened on the corner of Gordon Mac’s desk, where they remain unnoticed for the next week.

Mac himself is busy supplying quotes to enquiring journalists and does a live phone interview on the BBC London station ‘GLR’ with sympathetic soul DJ Dave Pearce. Some members of the KISS FM team who are not so close to the sharp end of the operation are unenthused by the carrot consolation prize, but Mac understands the need for cautious diplomacy now more than ever.

Seven months have already been spent raising more than £1million in capital, and a five-figure sum has been sunk into the application procedure to date.

A carefully worded press release is prepared, expressing “extreme disappointment” that KISS FM did not win the licence, but backing the IBA’s demand for more frequencies to be allocated to further London stations. KISS FM’s campaign focuses on 104.8 FM which becomes free in November when ‘Radio 1’ vacate their temporary London channel.

KISS FM presenter Heddi still feels the need for more direct action to satisfy the dozens of listeners who have phoned up asking what they can do to help. Over the next weekend, she visits several London clubs and solicits more than 3,000 letters of support addressed to the Home Office demanding the release of further frequencies for stations such as KISS FM. Gordon Mac delivers them personally to Douglas Hurd’s office exactly a week after the IBA’s fatal announcement. No acknowledgement or response is returned.

Mac seems to be treading a fine emotional line between huge personal disappointment at the outcome of several years’ hard work and cautious optimism that a licence still remains within the realms of possibility.

“Whether it takes three months or three years,” he says to GLR, “we will carry on campaigning until we are given the chance to be a legal radio station in London.”

In a more salubrious part of town, champagne bottles are being put to good use. London Jazz Radio’s nine-year campaign for a licence has paid off handsomely, particularly with its development of an all-party parliamentary lobby to argue the merits of its case.

The station’s founder, David Lee, is a 59-year-old jazz musician whose distinguished career has included TV themes, jingles and the writing of Peter Sellers and Sophia Loren’s 1960 hit ‘Goodness Gracious Me’. He wrote to the IBA suggesting the idea but received a faintly dismissive reply explaining (wrongly, in retrospect) that new legislation would be necessary before such a station could be introduced.

So Lee started on the road for the necessary legislation to be enacted. “I happened to bump into a guy I’d known but hadn’t seen for over 20 years, who was an amateur drummer but also a member of the Gilbey’s Gin family and working as a board member of Grand Metropolitan Hotels.” This was Jasper Grinling, ex-managing director of International Distillers, ex-director of corporate affairs with Grand Met, and now chairman of LJR.

“He happened to know an MP by virtue of his high rank,” continues Lee, “so we asked him and, in a very short time, we had a 14-strong all-party group. I call it my ‘Parliamentary Jazz Band’. Based upon that parliamentary support, we felt we could start to move. We would literally have got nothing without it. It allowed us to get the ear of people of reason.”

The MP Bowen Wells is now a director of LJR, as is Lord Rayne, ex-chairman of London Merchant Securities plc. Fellow shareholders include Lord Colwyn, Lord Dormand, Earl Alexander of Tunis, Viscount Portman and four other MPs – Jim Lester, Tom Pendry, John Prescott and Nicholas Scott.

The “people of reason” Lee reached included the Home Secretary himself. Before the award of the licence, Lee admitted: “I have great admiration for Douglas Hurd and, if it hadn’t been for his understanding, we wouldn’t be in the position we are today.”

“He was one of the first people to realise that it is quite wrong for a place the size of London not to have a station to represent so large a minority. He realised it and made sure those ‘people who know’ realised it.”

Indeed, Hurd on several occasions cited a London jazz station as an example of the new type of radio service he was intending to introduce. In retrospect, this should have been observed as an omen that parliamentary lobbying had already proven effective, long before the contract for the new London service was advertised.

The IBA are understandably keen to stress it was their decision to award the licence to LJR, based upon their assertion that the station will cater for a wide variety of musical tastes. Paul Brown, the IBA’s head of programming, explains: “LJR is a jazz radio station but, in assembling their application, they did a lot of research which told them that an audience would prefer to have a jazz radio station that provided a wide spectrum of jazz including, for example, Afro-Caribbean rhythms, salsa and also some of the big band performances.”

The station’s research showed that 41 per cent of those adults sampled liked to hear jazz on its own, while 63 per cent preferred to hear it mixed in with other styles of black music. But LJR’s own programme plans actually reject these findings and propose a fairly narrow jazz-dominated music policy.

A computerised playlist system is planned which will schedule one Afro-Caribbean record every two hours, one “boogaloo/soul” record every two hours, and one R&B record every 12 hours. Hardly a great concession to broader tastes.

Yet the IBA insist that LJR’s intended schedule also include “a good range of music styles derived from and related to jazz, including big band music, vocal standards, R&B and forms of Latin American jazz.” This statement is inconsistent with LJR’s own description of their output as “20th century jazz and jazz influenced music” in their ‘Promise of Performance’ – the legally binding statement of their programme plans.

Selecting such a specialised music station would have proven a hard decision for the IBA to defend, particularly when other applicants such as KISS FM were proposing to integrate jazz alongside many other styles of music. So have the IBA now insisted that LJR adopt a more catholic music policy in order to make their choice more politically acceptable?

“We are specifying that there must be a broad spectrum of output,” says the IBA’s Peter Baldwin, “and therefore what LJR accept will be a Promise of Performance that the IBA will write for them and not necessarily reflecting exactly what they applied for.”

Confidence in LJR’s ability to incorporate diverse and newer styles of ‘jazz-influenced music’ is not instilled by the station’s choice of senior staff. Apart from the presence of DJ Gilles Peterson on the board, the average age of the other nine directors is 56.

All this political manoeuvring is pretty galling for the unsuccessful bidders for the licence, who see accommodations being made for LJR’s shortcomings and the IBA adopting a defensive attitude towards their choice of winner. Several applicants made a positive commitment to jazz programmes alongside other neglected forms of music. KISS FM had already enrolled Gilles Peterson as a member of their own jazz presentation team.

When LJR comes on-air in February [1990], the proof of their commitment to these diverse music styles will be evident from their first day’s programmes. In the meantime, KISS FM can only wait for a Home Office decision as to whether additional frequencies will be allocated to further London stations. The KISS FM team will not return to pirate broadcasting, but will continue to campaign for the right to have a legal dance music station in London.

A week after the IBA’s announcement, Gordon Mac called a meeting of KISS FM’s staff and presenters to explain the whole situation. There was righteous indignation among many of those present that, once again, the government had pulled a fast one and made empty promises to the pirate community, while at the same time rewarding their own friends.

There were predictions that pirate activity in London would increase as a consequence of general ill-feeling towards the authorities. There was even an undercurrent that KISS FM had been duped by the second carrot-on-a-stick and would be foolish to wait for the outcome of a further open ended half-promise. Several members of the KISS FM team were absent from the meeting. Jonathan More and Matt Black (alias Coldcut), Hardrock Soul Movement, Jazzie B and Norman Jay were all in New York attending the ‘New Music Seminar’. It’s a dreadful irony that, while many of the individuals involved in KISS FM’s championing of British dance music have recently reaped huge popular success, the station itself is now off-air and still waiting for its day to come.

Last Monday, Home Secretary Douglas Hurd finally agreed to licence two more London-wide FM radio stations. After taking legal advice, the IBA has determined that it must publicly advertise these two new contracts, inviting bids from previous applicants and new groups by a November deadline. KISS FM will be one of more than 50 likely applicants, and the outcome will be announced by the end of the year.

The writer is a supporter of KISS FM’s campaign to secure the new London waveband.

[First published as ‘Kissed Off’, New Musical Express, 26 August 1989, p.31]

[This was a small part of the bigger story recounted in my book ‘KISS FM: From Radical Radio to Big Business’ about pirate radio, the station’s subsequent licence win and successful relaunch]

[Originally blog published at https://peoplelikeyoudontworkinradio.blogspot.com/2025/05/kiss-fm-rejected-government-awards.html ]