This past weekend, radio lost one of its most unique voices – and its most powerful storyteller. Nick Michaels passed away suddenly in his home in Miami. And for those of us who knew Nick and his bigger-than-life influence on rock radio, the news sent shock waves throughout social media circles.
Nick was a one of a kind radio guy. He told us we were living in “an over-communicated world” long before we figured it out for ourselves. He was the king of capturing attention – standing out by not shouting. In fact, Nick’s whisper connected with more people than all those screaming, pukey dime-a-dozen voice guys.
Nick was the poet laureate of radio. He was spinning fascinating stories about the music before there was “This American Life” or “The Moth Radio Hour.”
My relationship with Nick started without ever meeting him. I somehow managed to avoid his outsized presence for a couple of decades. Then in early 2002, Entercom brought me into consult a struggling Triple A station – KQMT in Denver. The Mountain was hopelessly behind market icon KBCO in the ratings, and was mostly an afterthought in the market.
Dan Michaels was brought into program the station, and immediately knew he had to somehow set it apart. Clear Channel (as it was known back then) owned every rock station in the market. And so one of Dan’s first moves was to bring in Nick Michaels as the station voice. But as I quickly learned, he was much more than that. He had an opinion – in fact, he had lots of them. And at times, he was critical of our programming, our positioning, and our writing.
I was in the market one day, and found myself complaining to Dan that some of our positioning language wasn’t on the air. And he flat-out told me that Nick wouldn’t read some of our copy. It turned out they had a production call scheduled that day, and I told him I wanted to sit in. Dan warned me – “If he knows you’re in the room, it’s not going to go well. He’s not fond of consultants.” So, I told him not to introduce me, and I quietly hung back and listened to the exchange.
And it was strangely mesmerizing hearing Nick belittling Dan’s (and my) copy, explaining to us we were missing the essence and passion of the music by simply tacking on slogans to the production we were running. It was an eye-opener, and I saw how Dan had to cajole, nudge, placate, and even beg Nick to even come close to getting what he wanted.
But the fact was, Nick’s stuff was great. It was much better than ours. And it reached out and grabbed the audience, reconnecting them with the music they grew up with. Nick could spin amazing stories about the music and the fascinating people who made it, all the while reminding you why you fell in love with it in the first place.
In fact, much of his copy did just that. It took you back to the dorm room, your basement, your first girlfriend or boyfriend – and brought you back in touch with why the music first moved you, and why you became a rock fan.
Years later, Greg Solk introduced me to Nick, and we shared several meals and meetings together. And we took to each other, despite our very different roles in helping our stations win. Nick didn’t just voice The Drive in Chicago. He was its soul. Greg Solk developed the concept and execution for a station that is a winner to this day. But it was Nick’s copy, his treatment, his passion, and his love for the music that made the station sing. A lot of people have come and gone over the years at WDRV, but Nick remains the voice – and soul – of the station. Production director Matt Bisbee and Nick have brilliantly collaborated to make the magic in the production studio, making The Drive sound different than any FM station on the dial.
Nick was a renaissance man. Originally from Canada, he broke into national advertising in New York City before he turned 30. And that signature voice – you could always differentiate a spot with Nick’s touch – it just stood out and grabbed you. The guy was an artist (one of his photos above), a master gardener, an amazing family man, and one of those rare people with a naturally great sense of style.
He loved life, while pointing out its contradictions and its parodoxes. And he brought us closer to the beauty and splendor of the world around us, whether it was music, trees, art, people – or radio.
For nearly four decades, he lived the stylish life in Miami, and he loved that Florida vibe. After I started making my visits to the southeast corner of the state a few years ago, Nick and I and our wives got together from time to time.
Our meals started with conversations that turned into soliloquies, harangues, rants, and even lectures. Nick’s conception of rock radio was a far cry from what it’s evolved into today. I learned something from him every time we chatted. He re-centered me, reminding me why I started this career in the first place, but he was also very critical, asking why wasn’t today’s radio better. Whether we talked about corporate radio or Donald Trump, you knew where Nick stood – on everything.
I sometimes felt guilty, too. Because he was usually right. Sometimes when I’m involved in a Classic Rock music sort, I think of Nick, and I thank God he wasn’t in the room watching us slice and dice music like commodities. It isn’t difficult to still hear his voice telling us all how you can’t use spreadsheets and algorithms to select music for millions of fans all over the country.
Many of the PDs who worked with Nick over the years developed that built-in “WWNS mechanism” – asking themselves What Would Nick Say when faced with a key decision or aesthetic dilemma.
Nick was so right that I sometimes didn’t want to hear it. While I am intensely proud of the work I’ve done in radio these many years, Nick was a constant reminder to me – and everyone who worked with him – that we should be doing better. That we should up our games and set higher standards. That we should better reflect our audience and the music that shaped the times and their lives. He ended up starting his own syndicated show, “The Deep End,” so he could produce it his way – and show us all how it was done.
And it was all about his listeners. His show’s Facebook page showed up on my feed last night, and while several of the comments are from radio people, most appear to be Nick’s audience members – his loyal followers – expressing their shock over the news and their love for what he brought into their lives:
Crazy thing. I was lucky to attend my first Greta Van Fleet concert this past weekend in downtown Detroit, ironically on the day he passed away. If you haven’t heard of this band, they’re a remarkable story – a foursome of Gen Z kids from nearby Frankenmuth, Michigan who brilliantly make music reminiscent of the seminal rock and blues many of us Boomers grew up with.
As I watched these kids play, enjoying their passion and musicianship, it took me back to some of the early rock shows I’d had the honor of seeing decades ago. And during one great jam, Nick’s voice came into my head, and I remember thinking he would really like this band.
But he’ll not have that pleasure now.
Condolences to Nick’s family, friends, clients, and listeners at this very difficult time. And also to the rock radio community and all the people who Nick touched, influenced, yelled at, and taught valuable lessons about radio, music, rock n’ roll, life, and why the hell we’re doing this in the first place.
Nick Michaels set a high bar, but helped us attain success, connecting us with what motivated our careers, often propelled by our love for the music.
Here’s one of my favorite Nick vignettes:
His is an irreplaceable voice on the airwaves.
Rock on, Nick.
For another side of Nick, check out Holland Cooke’s tribute here.
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Matt Cundill says
Nick was a central part of the imaging at CHOM on a highly successful reboot in 2002. Hourly artist imaging and adding his show the Deep End further entrenched the station’s own heritage back into the market. Incredible talent…
Fred Jacobs says
Indeed – thanks, Matt.
Jeff Vidler says
Great tribute and great story, Fred. Nick similarly saved my (Canadian) bacon when I was programming in Montreal in the late 80s. I was parachuted into Montreal as PD of CJFM a week before the Spring book when the previous PD, Susan Davis, got hired across the street. A big block of TV time had been booked to start in a couple of days. Video had been shot; but there was no concept, no copy, no voice-over. We were panicking. We quickly pulled together the idea of doing a Classic Hits weekend series and GM Rob Braide enlisted John Parikhal’s help in getting Nick to fly up from doing an Excedrin session in New York to voice some spots. I eagerly met Nick at the airport with copy in hand — Nick took one look at the copy, re-wrote EVERYTHING in the car on the way to the studio, then turned in his usual magical performance. When the book came out, our share was up 25%, weekends up nearly 50%. I don’t think I ever thanked Nick properly for that. And now I can’t. Except to add one more story to the magic man’s out-sized legacy. RIP, Nick.
Fred Jacobs says
I can just SEE Nick looking at the copy and throwing it into the nearest wastebasket. Great story, Jeff. Thanks for sharing it.
Steve Richards says
Fred, great tribute, what an inspiration he was to talk to. He was a master communicator and one of a kind.
Fred Jacobs says
Thankss for that, Steve. He was a special person.
JC Haze says
I was so shocked and saddened to hear of Nick’s death.
When I was programming 96.5 The Mill(Manchester NH), Steve Goldstein turned me on to Nick’s show “The Deep End,” and suggested we include it in our weekend arsenal.
I took a listen, and immediately agreed.
Boy…was Nick a CHARACTER! From his in-show storytelling, captivating voice(I’d kill for those pipes!I), and calming demeanor…Nick’s show filled the void for all those deep cuts we wanted to play.
And then, of course, were the phone conversations I had with him. He would go on forever about the face of radio, and how we needed more programming like his show. And I’d be like….”Nick…I gotta go now”…and he’d continue for another 10 minutes!
I wish I’d hung on for another story or two.
Thanks for the wonderful post today, Fred.
JC
Fred Jacobs says
Much appreciated, JC. He was one of a kind.
Dave Van Dyke says
Thank you, Fred, for a beautifully written tribute that perfectly captures Nick’s talent and essence. When we launched ARROW 93 in LA, Nick voiced our breakthrough TV spot – and his delivery on that spot perfectly communicated the uniqueness of the new station. What a talent and a good friend.
Fred Jacobs says
You hit it, Dave. He loved hanging out with his clients and sharing his experience.
David Gariano says
I had the unique and distinct pleasure of working with Nick on two SuperSpots TV imaging campaigns for WDRV Chicago. Greg Solk expertly played peace keeper because working with Nick was kind of like a tug of war, often a clash of wills. But the end result was nothing short of pure magic.
Nick raised the bar and was a special force of nature. He will be missed! RIP Nick!
Fred Jacobs says
He WAS the bar. Thanks for the comment, David.
Mike Watermann says
My station ran “The Deep End” for many years, and I made a point to listen to every show. I didn’t always agree with his song choices, but they were always used effectively within the show. I spoke with Nick occasionally, and he was always courteous and full of great stories! I will miss his incredible voice and warm personality
Fred Jacobs says
The show – and everything Nick did was craft. He took pride in it, and let you know about it. I loved the exchanges with him, knowing full well he was mostly right. Thanks, Mike.
john parikhal says
Thanks for this wonderful eulogy, Fred. Nick and I were best friends for 46 years and I consider him one of the greatest talents in the history of communications. We talked constantly over all those years, sometimes as often as 5 times a week. We argued, laughed (we always laughed), we shared music, photos, art, and ideas. We created TV for NBC, advertising for Rolling Stone Magazine, and worked with so many radio stations, I’ve lost count. I spoke with him the day before he died and he wanted to talk about The Deep End, about the affair between Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell, as well as obscure Rastafarian sects. How will I ever experience that again? While my heart is truly broken, I am so happy that his voice and spirit live on in the great work he leaves behind.
Fred Jacobs says
I knew you and Nick were close, but didn’t realize just HOW close. I’m sorry for your loss, John – for all our losses.
Jimmy Risk says
Never knew Nick but reading this wonderful tribute, I get a real sense of the man…..and the loss. You did him proud, Fred!
Fred Jacobs says
Many thanks, Jimmy.
Dave Rahn says
Great tribute, Fred. I did not know Nick, but I certainly knew his work and voice – and competed against same in several markets. I have great respect for him and what he meant to the craft of radio. Thanks for sharing your story.
Fred Jacobs says
Appreciate it, Dave.
Steve Downes says
Great tribute Fred. Of all the things I’ve read about Nick in the past few days, this one really hit home. It made me wish I would’ve taken advantage of the times he came up to Chicago, and been a part of the pow wows that you and Greg had with Nick. He might’ve reignited in me what was by then a fading light for the business. He seemed to never lose that passion.
Fred Jacobs says
Steve, thanks for those comments. Nick had that provocative ability to rekindle everyone’s rock n’ roll spirit. He was irrepressible and helped keep us focused on what was truly important for the station – and our audience. We already miss him.
Victior Lisle says
Fred,
Wow. This captured the spirit and every essence of Nick…..to the T. Great story! I loved Nick and have him to thank for much of my “mind expansion” that expanded my heart, love of radio, and much of my career. He was a dear friend, cherished mentor, and an amazing human being who was always was willing to teach IF you were willing to listen.
I’ve been blessed to have had great men who helped me form my craft. I can count them on one hand. Each person gave me a spice. I like to sprinkle those different spices to conjure up my own creative soup. Nick’s spice……that’s the rare creative stuff. You have to travel far back into the rugged terrain of India for days to reach a meadow where Nick’s spice is grown. It’s indigenous to a specific region and not everyone is willing to take the journey to harvest it. Those who have harvested Nick’s spice, owes it to radio to share it and plant Nick’s seed. If we don’t, most will be cooking only with salt and pepper.
Nick once told me something that I’ll never forget. I apply it to most everything I produce: -Tell them the facts, they will listen. Tell them the truth, they will believe. Tell them a story…….it will live in their hearts forever.
It was a pleasure meeting you and Greg. Saying goodbye to Nick was not easy, but the day was filled with stories, tears, and laughter. It was the perfect tribute for someone who lived each day to tell stories, make people cry and laugh.
Fred Jacobs says
Victor, thanks for the truly kind and thoughtful note. Once Nick accepted you “in the club,” there was a lot to be learned. The spice analogy is an amazing one. Your words ring so true. It was great to meet you as well, despite the circumstances. I know you’ll carry Nick’s torch. All the best.
Victor Lisle says
I wish I could plant a mango tree in the Chicago area. 😉
Victor Lisle says
Nick and Alan Alda must have smoked Cohibas together.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nAkqWGO1T-c