Almost exactly six years ago, there was a ripple in the radio universe. KSWD, The Sound, was sold by Entercom (now Audacy) to a religious broadcaster (which has now become something of a trend).
Some think that consultants are pretty good at keeping a comfortable arm’s length distance between our brains and our hearts. After all, working for a radio station is often a highly emotional balancing act. It’s a go-go, 24/7 business with no shortage of pressure, whether it comes to hitting ratings or sales goals.
In that frenetic atmosphere, it’s a consultant’s job to remain cool, collected, and above the fray. It’s important to be able to objectively view the competitive battle, and provide a level of objectivity and honesty.
But on those rare occasions, we can get emotionally sucked into a station, its story, its staff. That was my experience with The Sound. And on today’s #TBT blog post, it’s my tribute (or eulogy) to a station, a group of radio pros, and a loyal, engaged audience that was very special. – FJ
I lost a client yesterday. More importantly, upwards of a million Southern Californians lost a radio station that had become near and dear to them.
KSWD – The Sound – left the airwaves yesterday afternoon, and ended a fascinating run that proved that in 2017, a radio station could still capture the hearts and souls of throngs of people at a time when iPhones, Spotify, Serial, YouTube, Game of Thrones, and Facebook are dominating our media lives. And they accomplished this in the entertainment capital of the world, the nation’s second largest market, and home of some of the most jaded people who walk this earth.
The Sound was just nine years-old – around for a lot less time than stations like KMET and KLOS. It was also a rare standalone station in a radio era dominated by powerful clusters, run by the biggest broadcasting companies in America.
One of the station’s staffers – an old compadre of mine named Steve Hoffman – wrote a blog post the other day referring to The Sound as being in radio hospice. And I couldn’t have said it any better. Apart from learning the bad news the station had been sold to a company that would most certainly change its format back in late September, no one had a clue precisely when KSWD’s amazing run would officially come to an end. It turned out to be the ultimate tease, but without a good payoff.
Aside from the pressure on the jocks, the salespeople, and of course, local management, the ambiguity of not knowing when “judgment day” would come was both painful but also captivating. And for the Sound audience, a similar surreality set in for them. Just as in life, we may have a feeling when the end is near, but we never know for sure. But when it comes – even when expected – it can be very bittersweet, even painful.
And so it is for The Sound, its staff, and its loyal tribe – because this was a radio station that had more than an audience. It was like a family for both those who worked at the station and those who came to enjoy it in their cars, offices, at the beach, and all over the SoCal area.
What’s the big deal for me in all this? Oddly enough, while never being fired from any job I had (and my current employer assures me I’m pretty safe), the same cannot be said for my consulting relationships with the broadcasters who have hired me over the past 34+ years.
Every relationship has a beginning, a middle, and an end. And in my case, I’ve suffered some disappointing, even heartbreaking losses over the years, due to station and company sales, format changes, and those tough times when things just didn’t work out. As we know, it happens…pretty much to everybody, even in situations that seemed safe and secure.
But with this one, it was different. My former employee and friend, Dave Beasing, brought me into the station several years ago (aided and abetted by some guy named Greg Solk). Dave and I got the chance to work together again, along with GM Peter Burton, a guy who doesn’t have an “off switch” and was endlessly supportive of the decisions we made – the good ones and those other ones we’d like to take back if we could.
Dave put his heart and soul into this place. Despite almost a couple decades between programming gigs, he made the emotional investment into a set of call letters, as dangerous as that can be. And methodically, he assembled some of the most talented and iconic personalities in Southern California radio, and mostly let them be themselves. Maybe all those years as a consultant paid off, because Dave did his best programming at The Sound.
The audience knew this was a different kind of radio station, even when it played “Free Bird.” For many Los Angelinos, The Sound was often spiritually reminiscent of KMET, a station revered by many radio fans who grew up saying “Whoo-ya.” You had to be there.
I always felt welcomed and embraced by the Sound staff. It was fun and challenging for me to visit L.A. to help with navigation and strategy. You always felt like you were walking into a living, breathing, vital radio station.
And then there were the Sound Backstagers – a brand advocate group of super P1s we put together several years ago. From there, the station’s social media footprint expanded and evolved. And in the past few years, The Sound was looking at engagement metrics that were crazy good. Whenever a client asked me to name a Classic Rock station doing it right socially, I always pointed them to The Sound.
To everyone’s credit, The Sound never faltered these past few weeks, presenting special programs like a memorable A-To-Z while no one knew the station’s expiration date. Dave and his classy staff never lost control or wavered, providing quality radio right to the end.
And so yesterday, it was appropriately Andy Chanley behind the mic, leading the station and its fans through its final hour. Andy was the first DJ on the air when The Sound debuted, and was given the honor to be the last one.
His very last track – the Beatles’ “Golden Slumbers Medley” – delivered the right message and a thank-you to everyone who supported the station. The Sound’s last breath concluded with this apt phrase, still reverberating a day later:
And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
It sounded like this:
Thanks for the honor to be a part of this, and work with you all.
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Dave Beasing says
Thanks for this unexpected TBT smile, Fred.
Some listeners tell me they cry each year on the November anniversary of The Sound’s last day. I prefer to take DJ Andy Chanley’s advice, as he sings in this 2-minute video (https://youtu.be/Go00qSg9clg?si=rvZkrzyO6Sxy-Bu7):
“Don’t be sad it’s ended; be glad it ever was.”
For some useful takeaways, The Sound’s YouTube channel remains posted (link below). Our video team led first by Sam Peasley and then Keith Weiner was ahead of their time. I’m also proud that the Facebook following of this station continues to be among the most engaged in radio, without a transmitter.
Thanks for sharing your passion for The Sound, Fred. Great brands never die.
https://www.youtube.com/@thesoundla/videos
Fred Jacobs says
Nice to hear frorm The Sound’s “Captain Kirk.” Thanks for sending Andy’s video as wellee as the YouTube link (I didnn’t know it was there!).
It’s another reason why we should be thankful for the Internet. As you so aptly put it, great radio stations can live on. I know you take immense pride in what was some of the best work of your career, Dave, and that’s saying something. I have alwawys appreciated you including me on the ride.
K.M. Richards says
The Sound was an amazing station and I wish Entercom had not spun it off to EMF after the merger.
BTW, Fred, that tower is NOT Mount Wilson, it’s Mount Lee, which is where the original channel 2 transmitter site was. These days, it’s all municipal public safety two-way … no AM, FM or TV.
At least you didn’t try for a photo of the original 100.3 site in the Hollywood Hills, which was the setting for the first episode of The Outer Limits (“The Galaxy Being”) back in the 1960s …
Fred Jacobs says
Thanks for helpoing me get these towers stright, K.M. The Sound – 6 years later – continues to leave a void.