Every night from age 6 to age 23 I listened to the radio as I went to sleep.
I swung silent punches through Vegas boxing matches on BBC R5. I knew all the words to Caesar’s catchy theme tune on TalkSport. I had nightmares after listening to murder stories on LBC.
The beautiful thing about radio is the connection between listener and presenter. The best make it feel personal. They’re talking only to you.
But this was a concern in the 1930s and 40s:
Thinkers who pondered broadcasting were attentive to the potential for interchange within large scale communication… Many were fascinated and alarmed by radio’s apparent intimacy, its penetration of private spaces, and its ability to stage dialogues and personal relationships with listeners. The question was often less how radio amassed audiences than how it individualised them.
Radio was dangerous. Same criticisms came later for TV, computers and smartphones. It’s sad to sneer at these concerns. Radio was dangerous because of its power to reach into the mind of the listener and speak to their soul.
So I’ve started some experiments with podcasting (digital radio, it’s the same thing). Nothing consistently great so far but the feeling of connection, of rawness, of direct emotion – that is what you can feel in the best moments. That’s the power, that’s the danger. That’s real radio.
Quote: Peters, J.D. (1996), ‘Institutional sources of intellectual poverty in communication research’, Communication Research 13(4): 527-559, found in Napoli, P.M. (2010), ‘Revisiting ‘mass communication’ and the ‘work’ of the audience in the new media environment’, Media, Culture & Society 32(3) 505-516.
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