You be the judge:
I’m not trying to embarrass the performer. I sincerely hope that’s a beginning voiceover person who was further hampered by lack of competent direction.
But there really should be a law against her saying “fluent in funky.”
Disclaimer: I’m biased. I wrote this one, as part of our Dork-A-Pellas CD.
Ken R. produced it exactly as I heard it in my head.
July – August, 1994: July was typically quiet for me. My only trip was to Cleveland, where I spoke at the McVay Media’s Programmers School. My topics were Building A Winning Morning Show and the premiere of my Total Quality Service Radio Station seminar.
This trip prompted me to offer the following piece of Information For Airline Passengers: It is possible to get up from or sit down in your seat without pulling down the seat in front of you. (Pass it on.)
It was during the Cleveland trip that I found myself wanting to kill a taxi driver. On the way from the airport to my hotel, the driver was telling some sort of story, and he said, “So I picked up these two men at a downtown hotel, a couple of middle-aged guys — you know, like us.”
I have never before been called “middle-aged,” and I was terribly offended. Needless to say, he did not receive a big tip. (We middle-aged guys are notoriously cheap.)
In August I finally made my first visit to Montana, courtesy of Bob Hoene and the Montana Broadcasters Association. Bob brought me in to conduct two days of seminars: How To Create Maximum Impact Radio Advertising and Air Personality Plus+.
A couple of weeks later found me first in Montréal and then in Québéc City, conducting two days of seminars for Télémédia, thanks to Sylvain Langlois.
Day One was a commercial copywriting seminar for their salespeople; Day Two was an air talent seminar, complete with simultaneous translation. (The year of French class when I was nine years old has been of surprisingly little value in my “middle-aged” years.)
Hotel Vogue Bathroom
In Montréal, I was housed at the Hotel Vogue, a very nice establishment. (How nice? Well…The bathroom had a shower AND a separate sunken bathtub…as well as a telephone and a TV.) The first day’s seminar was held in the “Amphitheatre Bell” (name after Alexander Graham Bell) – the only seminar site I’ve been to that has its own skating rink.
As soon as I returned to Los Angeles, I spoke to an international group of radio people — from Egypt, Botswana, and a couple of countries I hadn’t even heard of. Although each country has its own cultural distinctions, I’m always struck by how much in common radio people from around the world have in common with each other.
Next Week: I get attacked by bees in Germany.
A jock just sent me his aircheck, asking for feedback. He’s not new to the business, but it’s obvious he hasn’t had much guidance during his career. From the cover letter that accompanied his CD, I can feel his passion for radio.
But he’s made the mistake common to so many: Because it’s so easy to be a bad or mediocre disc jockey — anyone can achieve those levels — he has assumed that becoming good or great is easy, too. All he has to do is keep practicing at the mediocre level.
But it doesn’t work that way. In addition to talent (a good thing to have), the truly successful radio personalities work at it. They think, they write, they plan, they aircheck themselves, they invest in materials that will help them improve and/or will improve their programs.
That’s obvious? Okay. But it’s also unusual. Most jocks show up for work, do their best, go home, come back the next day and do their best — but never improve because it doesn’t occur to them to treat radio as a craft.
Here’s one simple, “obvious” suggestion I gave him:
The biggest thing you need to add is warmth. As corny as it sounds, you (I mean you, personally; I do not necessarily mean everyone on radio) should smile widely before opening the mic and keep smiling throughout the break.
People who don’t know better might scoff, “Oh, he wants me to be a ‘yuk jock.'” Those people don’t understand that although it might look odd for you to be smiling so much, it won’t sound that way.
“On TV, I look normal.”
There’s something about a radio microphone that saps much of the warmth from most voices. You’re familiar with the TV expression, “The camera adds 15 pounds”? (Hence, all the actresses who in real life resemble scarecrows.)
Well, the radio microphone removes 50% of the natural warmth of your voice, and you need to find a way to compensate for that.
On this aircheck, you sound bored. You sound as though you’re there because it’s your job to be there, not because you’re doing what you want to do.
Suggestion: Concentrate more on sounding as though you want to be there and that you’re talking because you have something you think is worth it for the listener to hear.
