July 17, 2009
By Donna Lamb

No, it's not your imagination. Black radio really is vanishing. The new film "Disappearing Voices – The Decline of Black Radio" explains why.

Directed by independent filmmaker U-Savior Washington, written by Iyanna Jones and narrated by veteran radio personality Wayne Gillman, this documentary is an historical overview of a uniquely American media format that rose in the late 1940s and 50s, reached its peak in the 1960s and 70s, and has gradually spiraled downward ever since. At the time of filming, the U.S. Census Bureau reported that out of 10,315 commercial AM and FM radio stations in the United States, only 168 were Black-owned – and even that number is declining.

As the documentary explains, radio took on tremendous importance in the Black community because it spoke directly to its audience through Black radio "jocks" such as Frankie "Hollywood" Crocker, Hal Jackson, Eddie O'Jay, Jocko Henderson, Jack "The Rapper" Gibson, Gerry Bledsoe and "The Mad Lad" E. Rodney Jones. Each developed their own distinctive style and sound in their on-air – and sometimes on-top-of-the-record – "raps." These forerunners of hip-hop could set the tone and mood for their listeners' whole day or evening and they became as important as the music they played.
During its glory days, Black radio advertised directly to local communities and featured local Black-owned businesses. When a hot new artist was available at the local record store, a local promoter would book that artist to headline at a local venue. What's more, as Ron Daniels, who worked on Jesse Jackson's presidential campaign, and Rev. Al Sharpton point out, political and social activists could mobilize thousands of people by simply putting the word out over the radio about a protest or rally.

It truly was radio by Black people, for Black people.

In the late 1960s a shift occurred when Madison Avenue advertising executives realized just how much influence Black radio had over its audience. White-owned stations featuring Black disc jockeys feared these charismatic jocks were becoming bigger than the station itself and would be in a position to demand more money. In the 1970s Madison Avenue responded. The "urban contemporary" music format came into being, co-opted Black soul music and phased out Black radio to reflect a colorless society.

Enter larger advertising dollars from huge corporations selling products like cigarettes, Coca Cola and beer. Exit music deemed too Black, like the style and lyrics of Percy Sledge, James Brown and Isaac Hayes. Moreover, with huge corporations like Clear Channel dominating the markets, there was scant room for community concerns on the airwaves.
As we search up and down the dial today, sadly, we hear Black-owned radio stations changing from one format to another as they scramble to find a profitable niche. However, as "Disappearing Voices" makes clear, the problem isn't format or a lack of listeners, of which there have always been plenty. The problem is the collaboration between Arbitron, a radio research firm that drastically undercounts Black listenership, and Madison Avenue, which insists that if their clients advertise on Black stations at all, they do so at discounted rates far below what they pay to advertise on "white" stations. After all, they figure, if Blacks will buy their products anyway, why pay to advertise on these stations? Contrary to normal business practices, even if a Black-owned station has a highly successful format that attracts a large number of listeners, it doesn't get the advertising dollars warranted by that number, making it almost impossible for the station to survive. That is pivotal in the decline of Black radio.

All this and much more is laid out in Wayne Gillman's narration, which U-Savior and Black Waxx Multimedia Inc. have done a remarkable job of bringing to life through archival film footage. Rare interviews with the likes of film icon Melvin Van Peebles, Chuck D of Public Enemy and a variety of elected officials, journalists and outstanding voices from the Black community make "Disappearing Voices" an historical treasure.

As U-Savior stated in the Q&A at a recent standing-room-only screening of "Disappearing Voices" in Manhattan, "In this age of multimedia we have to look for more innovative ways to remain politically relevant. For me, cinema is the most impactful tool because it combines so many different art forms. My filmmaking is an extension of my commitment to the movement and to Black people. By being unafraid to tell the stories that Black people need to hear, being unafraid to jar people with the truth, I show them that there is not only hope, but certainty that we will prevail."

"Disappearing Voices – The Decline of Black Radio" is available on DVD.

For more information visit www.disappearingvoices.com.