I used to think….and now I think….
By Mike Gange
I used to think the music we heard on the radio was live. I can remember being about 4 years old, maybe 5, and thinking that those musicians must be coming and going all the time, to play live music in the radio station. With the smell of coffee brewing in the percolator in our kitchen most mornings, I would eat my breakfast and listen to artists such as Burl Ives sing, “Jimmy Crack Corn” and think that Burl was right there, in the studio, singing to me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rr4jeaaVGCA
This tells you about the mindset of a child of tender years. I recall reading that little kids think their connection to the media is unique, that what they hear on radio or see on TV is specifically designed for them. When kids share their impressions of the media messages or texts with their friends, they are sometimes surprised to find their peers also enjoy the same media texts.
The commonly accepted definition in media education now is that a media text is anything where the audience can negotiate meaning. Thus a text can be a comic book, with its story line, main characters successes or failures, a protagonist or antagonist, and a social hierarchy. But a media text could also be one panel, one cartoon, with a message to be interpreted. A media text could be a whole song, or the bugle call used to bring the horses to the gate just before a big race. That same bugle call is often used as an anthem at a sports event. A media text could be a 30-minute television story, or a 30-second commercial. The Big Bang Theory is a really rich text, celebrating the fish-out-of-water nerds as heroes, while Penny is really the shiny penny we might meet or find anywhere. Actor Jim Parsons, who plays Sheldon Cooper, the nerdiest of the unlikely group, can also be seen in an ad for cars. This 30-second commercial banks on audience recognition of the supersmart Sheldon, as he now tells us why such-and-such a car is a good buy. He isn’t named in the ad, and it in no way shows Parsons in the role of Sheldon or the world he lives in, but we know it is Sheldon.
When I was in grade 2, I visited a radio station. I asked where the bands were. The DJ on the air said, “Right here,” and he pointed to the 45 RPM that was spinning on the turntable. I was surprised to see that it was one of the same 45 RPMs that my mom and dad had at home. I think the song was “Walk right in” by the Rooftop Singers.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8hpPuFnq85A
As a teen in grade 9, I worked in radio. Our training officer said we had to be aware of our audience. We had to talk loudly, distinctly, and directly. We had to talk to a whole roomful of people or a whole hockey rink of people, but we had to think of only person when we were talking. I usually chose to think I was talking to my mom.
Of course, artists were known for doing just the reverse. The Beatles always sounded like they were singing a song that had a universal appeal. I read somewhere that The Beatles only had a dozen or so songs with the names of girls in the title. Lucy in the Sky (with diamonds), Eleanor Rigby and Polythene Pam are only three; you can see if you can fill in the others.
When I was a DJ, the band Kiss had a hit with Beth (I hear you calling). http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5RnWg5qehU
The song helped launch Kiss, but for all the most ironic reasons. Kiss was mostly about those heavy stadium anthems we can all recognize. But Beth was a sweet little love song, almost apologetic, about how a guy has to work with the band, and can’t be there to meet his girl. When I think of Kiss, I don’t tend to think of love songs and ballads. This time the song’s specific address to Beth, works in reverse. It is a universal song telling thousands of girls why their guy can’t be there, no matter if they were named Beth or not.
I was a 21-year old news guy on the air on August 16, 1977. It was the night Elvis Presley died. There were only 2 of us in the building that night, myself and the night-time DJ. When the news broke, I was busier than a one-armed-paper hanger. People were calling our station, on every telephone line possible – sports lines, contest lines, general offices, and of course the news room lines. I was answering phones, trying to get news ready to read, trying to keep the on air DJ up to date with copy he could run between songs, and trying to think long term, as to how we could handle this in a bigger way.
The overwhelming outpouring from the general public, who were shocked and saddened by the death of such an iconic popular culture leader, has stayed with me forever. We might grow up thinking we are hearing music intended just for us. But a top-notch performer, such as Elvis, seems to reach across generations.
I might have heard Elvis on the radio when I was a little kid. Of course, he wasn’t there live. And he wasn’t singing only to me. Still, his songs seemed to contain a wisdom to be shared. Elvis was 42 years old when he died. Somehow, he had a universal appeal.
