Payola on the Cheap

"You're kidding, right?" That was the reaction from one Miami-based Sony BMG executive Kulchur spoke with, who insisted on anonymity, citing a company e-mail instructing employees to adopt the public mantra of No comment. This exec laughed off any notions of Spitzer-induced reform, predicting only a few face-saving terminations (one New York-based promotions executive who figures prominently in the released e-mails has already been fired; four others have had their pay docked). And then Sony BMG and every other major label will find another way of instituting payola, just as they did in the wake of previous government crackdowns. There's too much at stake to do otherwise; radio's influence may be diminishing but it remains a key factor in making or breaking artists.

On the other side of the microphones, expect much the same posturing. Though payola may be endemic in the industry, that didn't prevent Clear Channel Communications from engaging in some self-righteous breast-beating in 2003, announcing that its 1244 stations were severing all ties with independent radio promoters (the main payola conduits in the Eighties) and subsequently requiring each employee to "swear in writing that he or she has not engaged in payola." However, Sony BMG e-mails show that Clear Channel may have been the worst offender of all, even threatening to boycott artists on Sony BMG subsidiary Columbia Records if fees paid to them weren't raised.

During an earlier interview with Kulchur, David Ross, Clear Channel regional vice president for South Florida, bristled at the very suggestion of accepting payola -- particularly at WHYI. "Our airplay is not for sale," Ross had said. "Y-100 is a station that produces 11 million to 12 million dollars in operating profit. You think I'd dare risk a radio station like that to play one record?" Asked for a fresh comment in response to the telltale Sony BMG e-mails, Ross referred Kulchur to a San Antonio-based spokesperson, who reiterated the chain's "zero-tolerance policy" on payola, adding that "any wrongdoing will be met by swift and appropriate disciplinary action."

So we can look forward to a few token heads rolling at Clear Channel's Miramar offices. Donnie Michaels, perhaps steeling himself for a retreat to those brutal Albany winters, wasn't returning Kulchur's calls either -- not even to Y-100's request line. But he did speak to the Los Angeles Times last week as the payola story initially broke, and presumably before David Ross plastered a thick piece of duct tape across the DJ's mouth. Insisting he did nothing wrong, Michaels said, "I was just doing what everyone else was doing." No doubt.

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Dont throw out your radio just yet. Miami's pirate-radio broadcasters may have largely devolved into an echo of their commercial brethren, but a few oases of wonderful music remain on the dial, spots where the mandates of the playlist take a back seat to the DJ's individual tastes:

The Modern School of Modern Jazz, WDNA-FM (88.9), Saturdays 11:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m.

After being unceremoniously dumped from WLRN, veteran host Steve Malagodi found a new home for his avant-garde mix at WDNA. Late Saturday night may not be the most convenient time for basking in Cecil Taylor, Sun Ra, or the array of dissonant and often otherworldly contemporary improvisers Malagodi enjoys pumping out into the ether, but if you need to clear your head (or perhaps break a lease), it's nice to know he's there.

Weekend Jazz, WLRN-FM (91.3), Saturdays 8:00 p.m. to midnight.

Host Tracy Fields (Malagodi's wife) prefers a more straight-ahead approach to the genre, with the emphasis on salving the soul instead of shocking it. Think Keith Jarrett, Abbey Lincoln, and of course John Coltrane.

Nocturno 92, WCMQ-FM (92.3), weekdays 7:00 p.m. to midnight.

If you're a middle-age Latino, you hardly need Kulchur to hep you to the glories of Clsica 92. You've already made WCMQ the number one station in Miami. But many Anglos still seem unaware of host Julio Antonio Ramos and his parallel sonic world of Latin oldies but goodies, complete with Sixties Uruguayan rock combos doing their own raucous takes on Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl and Roberto Jordan's cover of Redbone's slinky Seventies bump-and-grinder Come and Get Your Love. When Ramos slips in the odd Bee Gees track, as well as a background loop of fake applause and syrupy strings, it makes the entire experience even more delightfully surreal.

WVUM-FM (90.5)

Being a station run entirely by students at the University of Miami -- not an institution known for attracting hordes of free-thinking bohemians and cultural excavators -- WVUM's fare is largely hit or miss, and in flux every fall. Still each semester brings a handful of young DJs passionate about underground sounds, willing to dig a bit deeper than this month's indie-rock flavors, and eager to share their discoveries with an off-campus audience. One summer bright spot: Sundays from 7:00 to 10:00 p.m. -- the only place in town to hear old-school honky-tonk country.

Old School Quiet Storm, WHQT-FM (105.1), Sundays 8:00 to 11:00 p.m.