Part 2:
Let's discuss the second part first, talking to rather than at your audience. In other words, not being an announcer, but just a bud. At least on the radio. Different strokes for different venues.
In the early 1970's, when I was doing weekends and fill-in at WPEN Philadelphia, the PD there, Tom Brown, who had spent many successful years in NYC Radio, sat me down for a critique session. I was terrified. I was, at best, a mediocre just-beginning DJ and had been given the opportunity to be on the air on what was then a major station in the 4th largest market in the country.
Tom listened to my tape (a self-edited reel-to-reel compilation of my work that I had put together on the trusty old Wollensak with 3M splicing tape, an EditAll block and a razor blade at home because of union rules) and then basically echoed the prevailing philosophy going into play at Westinghouse news stations (like KYW Philadelphia).
He told me to just talk to the listeners like I was sitting next to them on a bar stool. Of course, at that point in my life, I was just barely of age to actually legally be in a bar. But I got his point. It resonated and my delivery improved from that day on.
To the listener, not at. On the air. But in other situations, things need to change. In my career, I've presented concerts and professional wrestling matches to huge crowds and smaller acts to small-room shows. Each had a different requirement for communication.
My first big concert deal was at the Richmond VA Coliseum, a country show with six or eight top level acts and Hank Williams Jr. as the headliner. And I was to intro every one of them. Picture this: house lights go out, and suddenly there's me, center stage, in a spotlight. Expectant applause happens. So far, no problem. I can deal with this, I think, can't see but a few folks in the first few rows. Piece of cake.
Then the house lights go back up and I see the audience. ALL of the audience. 15,000 people, every one of them looking at me and waiting to hear what that short, fat guy with a mustache on stage had to say to make their concert experience better.
I have no idea what I said that day. I was too busy trying to control my bowels. I was on verbal autopilot. But I can tell you that I talked to them and not at them. I was too scared to do otherwise. I must have handled the situation with some professional aplomb because I managed to be asked to MC almost every major country music concert for the next few years.
Doing the wrestling shows that I did for several years was a complete 180 from the concerts. It was all about the drama, the pointing to the players, the serious hooting: "In this corner, at 325 pounds, from Peckerwood Lake, North Carolina" and all the rest, including the "surprised" announcement of the winner. Mean Gene Okerlund was the Master and all of us on the wrestling road learned the craft from him. We also learned to occasionally take a punch from one of the "bad guys" when they felt like being extra bad.
Small-room shows? That required an intimate delivery, playing with the front-row attendees. Like "we're all in my living room, I've invited you here and here's what we're gonna hear on my record player except it's a live band."
Different strokes for different occasions. See what I mean?
Next time around, would a PD be better off critiquing if he/she were a great air talent or of he/she critiqued as a listener?
