Broadcasting (Oct 1931-Dec 1932)

Exit Announcer— Enter Radio Salesman By TONY WONS "Are You Listenin'?" Commercial Speaker Held More Important Than Crooner; Ability to Sell Placed Above the Art of Elocution THE OLD TIME radio announcer with his much overworked phrase, "We are dedicating this program to," is passing, and the quicker he takes his last gasp the better it will be for the advertisers and radio stations that are spending good money for programs. A new man is taking his place — a man who does not want to be called a radio announcer, but a radio salesman. If I were buying radio time I would spend as much effort and money in selecting the salesman who is to sell my goods to the radio public as I would for a crooner, a fiddler, a speaker, or for any other talent. I think he is just as important — more important! I would see to it that he does not chase prospects away from me by babbling a lot of meaningless words and phrases which nobody wants to listen to. I would ask for a man who can sell; a man who understands human nature; a man who can create some interest in my product, who is interested in it himself, and who can win over my listeners with an argument that will make them my customers. Salesman's Qualifications IN GIVING an audition for this salesman I would ask the station director to furnish if possible a man who has had some selling experience, or who has proved his ability to sell over the radio, rather than someone whose only qualification is an oily voice. Of course I would not bar those without any selling experience or those who have not had a chance to prove their worth. Some announcers never did have an opportunity to show what is in them. They are hired by stations to say, "This is station QXZ and we will now hear that well known tenor, etc., etc." That isn't selling. The reading of the sales copy in many programs is considered only incidental. Often the announcer has but a hazy idea what it is all about. Somebody else writes it for him — he reads it. He talks about a tooth paste of which he knows nothing and has never used himself; he talks cigars which he has never puffed; he talks breakfast food the taste of which he never enjoyed; he talks automobiles that he never saw built nor had the pleasure of riding in. How can he possibly get enthusiastic over a product that he knows absolutely nothing about except the name? He can't do it. He is an announcer, a reader of words and nothing more. But the radio salesman goes to the factory where the product is manufactured. He speaks with the salesmen; he interviews the workmen; he consults the officials; he studies the competitor's product; MANY ADVERTISERS are unwittingly altruistic in that they finance an elaborate and entertaining radio program and then trust their sales message to an announcer who merely reads dull phrases with little or no comprehension of the product he is expected to sell. Tony Wons, who rose from the station commercial ranks and whose sales messages on the Camel Quarter Hour were noteworthy, suggests that the commercial talks should be made by experienced salesmen who have imagination and enthusiasm and are entirely familiar with the product. And, he adds, this radio salesman should be paid fully as well as the artist and be as carefully chosen. table, or in the sitting room, or out on the porch steps. It is appalling the amount of worry, time and energy that advertisers will put into the proposition of picking radio acts, and then how carelessly they will throw in announcers and radio sales copy writers. Often they are young fellows barely out of high school. But, the opinion seems to be, they are good enough for the "plug." Anybody out of school can read and write English. And so it happens that when the artists pile up a huge radio audience and everything is set for the big part of the program — the radio salesman — somebody who never sold as much as a shoestring steps up and bleats out a lot of words. Fortunately for the listeners they don't have to listen to him, and they do not. The all-wise engineers who invented the radio receiving set took care of that by putting a convenient knob on the board. And is that knob used? It is the most overworked knob on the whole board. When the crooner has crooned his prettiest, and the fiddler has fiddled his sweetest, and the poet has gushed his loveliest, then the dials begin to click, for the program is over. But I say it has just started, so far as the advertiser is concerned, for then comes the radio salesman. If radio listeners write in and say that they like his part of the program just as well as that of the performers, then he is putting over his stuff. Blame Not Restricted FREE SAMPLE offers are no measuring stick to judge the salesman's ability. There are always plenty of sample seekers who will write in but who never intend to buy. I know some who make it a business to send for every sample that is offered. They will go to Tony Wons and he works up some enthusiasm, some faith in the articles he is going to sell over the radio. He fills every pore of his system, every convolution of his brain with facts and pointers and human interest sales material. Then he uses his imagination, and asks himself: "How can I convince my listeners ? How can I pass to them the enthusiasm and faith which I have in this produce?" Elocution Comes Last LAST OF ALL and not first as some think he cultivates a pleasing voice. Without enthusiasm and without faith and without imagination he cannot sell over the radio no matter how many elocution lessons he has had, nor how many words he can pronounce correctly. And when he has done these things he stands up to the microphone and talks to, not shouts at, the listeners. He does not visualize an audience. Not at all. He imagines one man, one woman, or a family at home, and he has an intimate talk with them over the breakfast any lengths to get something free, and will even listen to an announcer's long discourse. Now let me soften my remarks about announcers by saying that the poor fellows are not entirely to blame. Some of the sales copy written for radio reads like the multiplication table and is about as inspiring. There is no chance for anybody to get enthusiastic about it. The announcer, even though he would like to be a real salesman, must read the copy to the last comma mark and take all the uncomplimentary remarks from radio listeners, such as "that terrible, dry, advertising stuff." The announcer can't change a word without the great almighty copy writer reporting it to the boss. Often he would do better to throw the copy into the wastepaper basket and launch out on his own, but he can't do it. His job is in jeopardy if he tries to do it. If he feels like pouring out some ideas that surge up in him and that he thinks will register with the one he is talking to over the air, he must silently smother the urge and confine himself to the words, words, words, that are written for him to say by someone who never stepped up to a microphone and hasn't the feeling for it. I understand the problem of the announcers. I have worked with them for over eight years. Commensurate Salary SO AGAIN I say that if I were buying radio programs I would demand good acts, yes, but I would also demand a radio salesman, and I would shave off some dollars from the crooner's big salary and give them to the man who can put over my line. I would hold an audition for salesmen, considering it more important than the performer audition, and I would say to the prospective salesman: "Here is a lamp shade, or a bottle of pickles, or a bottle of hair oil. Now you take this sample home. Use it. Study it. See what our competi• tors have too. Then I will ask some strangers into the studio, and they will sit there and listen to you while you sell them those pickles or that lamp-shade or hair oil, and if they exclaim, those pickles make my mouth water — that lamp shade is the berries — that hair oil is the smoothest thing I ever heard of; if they say that, you are hired at a salary that would make a fiddler or a poem reader or a crooner envious." Neff Named By Club WALTER J. NEFF, assistant sales director of WOR, Newark, has been named chairman of the Radio Group, a division of the Advertising Club of New York, by Grover A. Whalen, president of the club. Mr. Neff will hold roundtable conferences with important representatives of the broadcasting industry and advertising agencies. December 15, 1932 • BROADCASTING Page 7