The end of the era of radio
Even though we got a TV when I was 2, I have more childhood memories of listening to the radio than I do of watching TV. Whether it was the spooky stories behind "The Creaking Door" or the "Hit Parade", we gathered around the little yellow transistor radio with great anticipation - but not too close, because one touch of the aerial (antennae?) could ruin the reception. Everyone had to be perfectly quiet and still if we wanted to record music from the radio to a cassette tape because the mic would pick up the slightest sound. For a lot of people, the magic of radio faded as newer forms of technology made it easier to access music. When I was 16 we renovated our lounge. This included buying our first Hi-Fi. In addition to the state-of-the-art radio tuner, turntable, and double tape decks, it had the latest in digital technology – a CD player. I was lucky enough to get involved in campus radio at a time when "two turn tables and a microphone" was still the standard for disc jockeys. The discs we were spinning in those days were still old-school vinyl. There was a special skill to "cueing" a track, timing it perfectly to accommodate the spoken word, and merging seamlessly into the next track, all live on air. The rush of doing a radio show or an outside broadcast to perfection was incomparable. I was hooked. Knowing what went on behind the scenes added so much to the experience of listening to the radio. One of my duties while organizing a rock concert on campus was to take some of the artists to be interviewed at the Capital Radio studios. The experience of being in a professional studio for the first time was slightly overshadowed by taking a walk on the beach afterward with Prophets of da City and Dr. Victor, with some of the Rasta Rebels. I do remember being asked to give directions to campus, live on air. I wonder how many of those poor listeners missed half the concert trying to follow my directions, back in the days before GPS and cell phones. I have been on the radio and TV many times in my life, but always on the other side of the desk. One of the highlights of my life is being interviewed by Shado Twala, one of the first women of color to make her mark on South African media, in print and radio. Discussing gender politics with her in South Africa was the equivalent of a high school science fair winner talking to Stephen Hawking. There were many other radio-related wins along the way. One of them was a trip for two to Paris, which start my mother’s adventures in travel. Winning James Blunt CDs and concert tickets sounds less impressive by comparison but here’s why it meant the world to me. At the age of six, my daughter was probably the youngest James Blunt fan. Concert tickets were a luxury we couldn’t afford. I was a stay-at-home mom by mutual decision, working on a post-grad in Education so we could homeschool. Not earning an income did a real number on my self-esteem. I wanted to be able to do something special for us for a change without having to ask my husband to pay for it. Winning those tickets allowed me to prove to my child that if you wanted something badly enough you could figure out a way to get it. It reminded me that I am a winner, regardless of how the world judged me at the time. My daughter and her fiancé are currently saving every cent they can to prepare for the emigration to the UK. Guess who won tickets to Mixfest. Like mother, like daughter. My husband and I live in Greece with our 13-year-old son. Neither of them understands radio the way my daughter and I do. The first year we spent in Athens was a nightmare of homesickness compounded by living in tiny little semi-basement apartments (roughly 50 square meters, half of which was underground and never got enough natural light). Facebook was my only contact with anything familiar. It was in this space that I rediscovered Capital Radio 604. There’s a lot going on with copyright issues and political bullshit that I don’t really care about. They still play fantastic music and I get to connect with people who share my passion for radio. It still feels surreal to be able to list Brian Oxley, Dave Simons, and Darren Scott among my friends. One of the most exciting early moments in these conversations happened in a group discussion. I don’t even remember what I said but Anthony Duke replied with, “Karmilla Pillay-Siokos in my experience of radio I’ve heard of passive listeners and active listeners. We’ll have to create a special category for you called hyperactive listeners.” That has stayed with me for over a year now. Ant, as I was honored to be able to call him with great fondness, was one of those behind-the-scenes heroes. He created a format for radio that paved the way for the development of radio personalities which in turn led to the incredible phenomena of DJ branding that is commonplace today. In the last few months, too many of those personalities have passed on. Never again will we see the likes of the acerbic wit of a Barry Ronger, the infectious laughter (and unforgettable hair) of Kevin Savage, the sharp interview skills of John Burke, or the (arguably) biggest name in Breakfast radio, Jeremy Mansfield. The greatest loss to the world of radio however, was the passing of Anthony Duke this weekend. It was this sad news that inspired me to finally write this blog. Thank you, Ant, for being an inspiration right to the very end. May you find yourself surrounded by hyperactive listeners. You are far too much fun to rest in peace. I suspect that you will more likely rejoice in eternal party.
0 Comments
|
KarmillaWhy can’t I be pretty and a feminist and a mother and a healer and an activist and an educator and a warrior? Archives
March 2024
Links you might like
|