I Miss Radio

I do. I miss radio. I miss the days where we didn’t have ‘instant’ access to everything. There was an anticipation hearing a favourite band’s new song for the first time. Or a new song that just grabbed you.

Those days are gone.

Alan Cross posted this radio show that Johnny Rotten from The Sex Pistols did back in 1977. Yes. Olden times. Listen for awhile. You may know some of the songs, you may not. But this was a beautiful moment. Access to someone many cared what they thought. Access to their playlist, influences, likes and dislikes. Not everywhere and not for everyone. Just the people near.

No Twitter. No Facebook. No websites.

What does that mean? That means it was very special. You knew you were getting exposure to someone that not so many would ever get.

Can you imagine the excitement, anticipation?

It is never like that today. Corporations control everything we hear. Stars are everywhere and accessible. 99% of the radio stations are controled by the 1%. It’s a business not a passion. It’s about money, not music. Most stars don’t write their own songs. Companies pay writers for content. Every aspect of what we see and hear is choreographed, controlled.

Imagine Johnny Rotten picking through his record collection for a few faves. Making his way to the radio station while the tech keys up the order to be played. Not in a playlist but swapping vinyl platters on the fly.

It was a moment. Unique. Breathtaking for a fan and maybe even for someone who was curious.

Now you can click on the link stupid old me puts on my blog and so can everyone else. Already that uniqueness is gone. And so is radio.

Content today is generally two things. Music (and good luck finding good music) and DJs (and good luck finding good DJs). Most radio personalities are either controlled to the point of pointlessness or they are putting on the stupidity to bring as much of the rabble, who will laugh at any dick joke 5,000 times, as they can. Music is filler.

There is no more passion for what’s new, unique. It is white flour. Processed to the point where there is no longer any nutritional value. The music, the personalities. Cookie cut crap.

Listen to that show. You’ll understand, whether you like the music or not, what I mean when I say I miss radio.

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