SAMSUNG-1040
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`SAMSUNG-1040
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`Contents
`
`Abbreviations, xix
`
`Part One 1900-1920
`
`. Thomas Edison’s Wonderful Kinetoscope Machine, 3
`. Big Time, Small Time, and E. F. Albee, 16
`. The Victrola and the Pianola, 22
`.
`Inside the Popular—Music Business, 32
`
`Part Two
`
`1921-1930 I
`
`. Popular Songs and the Movie Business, 47
`. The Decline and Fall of the House of Albee, 57
`
`. The Mechanical Music Business, 62
`. A Simple Radio Music Box, 74
`. A Glut of Movie Music, 91
`
`Part Three
`
`1931—1940
`
`. The Fall and Rise of the Record Business, 117
`
`. Music in Motion Pictures, 147
`. Popular Music and Radio, 159
`. ASCAP versus the Broadcasters, 184
`
`Part Four 1941-1953
`
`. On the Road to New Technology and an Expanded Industry, 215
`. Mass Entertainment and the Music Business, 251
`. ASCAP and BM] Face the Reality of Television, 291
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`Part Five
`
`1954-1966
`
`. From Monaural to Stereophonic Sound, 333
`. Growth to a Four—Bil|ion-Dollar Business, 367
`. ASCAP versus BMl, 396
`. Payola Problems and Rate Wars, 439
`
`Part Six
`
`1967-1970
`
`. Copyright Revision or Not.?, 493
`. The Music-Licensing Wars, 498
`. Big Money Invades the Music Business, 507
`. FM and Top 40 Radio, 518
`
`Part Seven
`
`1971-1976
`
`. Continued Fighting over Licensing, 523
`. Industry Associations Play Their Part, 528
`. ”The Seven Dirty Words" Case and MOR Music, 543
`. Configurations, Payola, and Soul Music, 549
`. A New Copyright Bill at Last, 563
`
`Part Eight 1977-1980
`. The U.S. Supreme Court and Licensing, 573
`. The Copyright Royalty Tribunal, 581
`. Other Copyright Problems, 588
`. Seesawing Sales and New Ideas in the Record Business, 594
`
`Part Nine 1981-1984
`. Television Music Licensing, 617
`. Rates and Piracy——Unsolved Problems, 624
`. Continuing Difficulties for Music Publishers, 627
`. Tight Control of a Prosperous Record Business, 634
`
`Part Ten 1985-1996
`
`38. Anxious "Indies" in an Aggressive Marketplace, 657
`39. Desperately Seeking Synergy, 670
`
`Bibliography, 685
`Index, 725
`
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`CHAPTER 12
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`Popular Music and Radio
`
`the steady economic growth of radio
`After a temporary early setback,
`broadcasting throughout the 1930s, and its increasing importance to show
`business, was paralleled by the quick advance of news about it from the
`back pages of Variety, chief chronicler of popular entertainment. In 1930,
`a few columns devoted to general industry news, gossip, and reviews of
`new programs followed such ephemera as “Foreign Show News,” “Times
`Square Chatter,” and “Literati,” with only “Music,” “Outdoors,” and
`“0bituaries" after them. When the decade ended, “Pictures" and “Radio”
`shared the publication's front half and first page. These two major sources
`of Americans’ favorite entertainment had much in common in seeking the
`widest audiences, who paid an average of twenty cents to see movies, but
`got radio programs without charge, though they were expected to spend a
`substantial portion of their income for products advertised on the air. Sen-
`sitive only to box-office figures and time-sales billings, they catered to the
`most homogenized tastes. Each placed much dependence on music to attract
`customers, and both were in frequent dispute with ASCAP. All three were
`under continual government scrutiny, but only radio,
`in theory and some-
`times in fact, was under the supervision of a federal agency.
`Picture returns went into four years of constant decline beginning in late
`1930, whereas network income rose in 1931. NBC and CBS enjoyed a
`combined gross of $35.7 million that year. However, the industry’s total
`expenses exceeded total income by $237,000, and half of all stations oper-
`ated in the red, taking in an average of $3,000 from all sources.
`Initially regarding network radio as only a temporary phenomenon, whose
`future was in doubt, major advertising agencies ventured into on-the—air
`advertising only at the insistence of clients who thought radio might be a
`better way to sell their products. Magazine advertising, which produced 15
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`American Popular Music and Its Business
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`to 20 percent commissions for space buyers, was still the major source of
`agency profit, and every effort was made to discourage the use of radio.
`This hesitancy produced the individual time broker and station representa-
`tive, who purchased blocks of time and then dealt directly with sponsors.
`They were so successful that radio departments were formed by the adver-
`tising agencies in order to take advantage of the commissions offered by
`the networks on time charges, production costs, and talent.
`At its start, when programing was on a hit-or-miss experimental basis,
`with audience mail the only measure of response, NBC created most of the
`nighttime shows it offered. Reacting to the new importance of radio to
`advertisers, the agencies began to take ever greater control of program con-
`tent, holding over network officials’ heads the alternative of electrically
`transcribed broadcasts, over which they already had full power. In 1931,
`all but
`three of the 702 stations in America were equipped with the
`Vitaphone—Western Electric turntables and amplifiers, capable of reproduc-
`ing the standard sixteen-inch, 33 ‘/3-speed disks. The holdouts were NBC’s
`two New York fiagships, WEAF and WJZ, and an affiliate in Rochester,
`New York. These followed the company’s policy against the use of re-
`corded sounds, either on transcriptions or on records made for use in the
`home.
`Because of the time difference, “Amos ’n' Andy” and all other popular
`network programs were heard on the West Coast at 5:00 and 6:00 P.M., too
`early for the family audience. Two live broadcasts daily, with mounting
`relay charges, became too expensive, so programs were recorded for one-
`time use only in better time periods. With a choice between the entire na-
`tional market at any time desired and those fewer than 100 stations con-
`nected in the chain operations, some sponsors opted for the cost-saving
`broader market offered by “radio disks." Many important clients, even
`RCA’s own Victor Record company, chose transcriptions as the most ef-
`fective medium to carry their messages. Seventy-five national sponsors went
`on the air with electrical transcriptions, an increase of 175 percent in a two-
`year period.
`To remove the potential threat of dissolution by government action, Gen-
`eral Electric and Westinghouse entered into a consent—decree settlement of
`the antitrust action against them, A T & T, and RCA. Their stock in RCA
`was disposed of, and all cross—licensing agreements among the four giants
`were voided. NBC and all its stations, the radio-connected manufacturing
`divisions, and other communication facilities were turned over to David
`Sarnoff ‘s administration. Only RCA‘s control over the patents on radio
`tubes was found to be in violation of antitrust laws. Now free to concentrate
`on the realization of his dream to make radio the principal medium for
`home entertainment, Sarnoff directed the formation of West Coast NBC
`auxiliary networks and moved some national program production to San
`Francisco.
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`1931-1940
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`With almost complete rule over sponsored network programs, the adver-
`tising agencies, which found it in their best interest to respond to “what
`the public wants," instituted the use of surveys, charts, and graphs as the
`basis on which to build radio shows. Listeners were no longer satisfied with
`those once-reigning stars radio had created, so the agencies sought out the
`best—known names of Broadway and big—time vaudeville. George Burns and
`Gracie Allen were teamed with Guy Lombardo’s orchestra, Eddie Cantor
`began a series of scripted comedy shows, and other headliners made the
`move from variety to the broadcast studio. In September 1932, Rudy Vallee
`moved the brightest stars of the Palace to his hour-long Fleischman’s Yeast
`“Rudy Vallee Varieties” on NBC. Performers who did not care to be re-
`corded on transcriptions became a part of the commercial advertising that
`was integrated into live programs. Products once peddled in sonorous tones,
`with copy written for the eye rather than the ear, became the butt of comedy
`stars. Dramatized commercials provided a new relief from monotony, and
`sales increased when network officials reluctantly permitted mention of
`product prices. Purveyors of food, drugs,
`toiletries, and tobacco, all of
`whose products sold for less than fifty cents, became the largest time buyers
`on network radio, spending $39 million in the 1932-33 season.
`the net-
`In the face of hard times for most independent broadcasters,
`works’ prosperity had created dissension within the industry. It was exac-
`erbated by the latest resolution of radio’s decade-long war with ASCAP.
`Tin Pan Alley and the society were also plagued by the problems that faced
`all American business. Sheet—music profits and record royalties were seri-
`ously depressed, and music publishers and songwriters depended on their
`ASCAP distributions to survive. ASCAP had successfully thwarted the pas-
`sage of an amendment to the Copyright Act that would have freed the use
`of musical works of any license fees. Armed with this and other court
`decisions in its favor, the society entered into negotiations with the National
`Association of Broadcasters for a new agreement, hoping to double or triple
`annual earnings over the $833,000 in sustaining fees paid by all broadcast-
`ers in 1931. A new document, tendered with NAB approval, called for a
`fixed fee on the use of music by individual stations on sustaining (commercial-
`free) programs, and three percent of receipts from time sales in 1933, with
`annual increments to five percent in the final year, 1935. Several deadlines
`for ratification by the industry were set and passed, while cries of “monop-
`oly” were heard from broadcasters, and petitions were made to the govern-
`ment for dissolution of ASCAP.
`
`A new antagonist entered the scene in the person of Oscar Schuette, who
`was retained by the NAB to coordinate negotiations with ASCAP and han-
`dle all government and public-relations aspects of the situation. He had
`been so effective in an earlier battle by independent radio-receiver manu-
`facturers against RCA control of tube patents that the corporation itself
`recommended Schuette to the broadcasters’ association. Schuette advocated
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`American Popular Music and Its Business
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`and pursued a waiting policy, hoping to force more acceptable terms on
`ASCAP.
`_
`_
`,
`A second committee, assigned to negotiate the networks contract, made
`up of a CBS and an NBC executive and an independent station manager to
`represent the affiliates, finally arrived at an agreement. It was quickly ap-
`proved by the NAB and ASCAP and signed by the chains and most of their
`affiliated stations.
`Public discussion of the independent stations’ differences with ASCAP
`was barred by new NAB officials at the November 1932 annual convention.
`The dissidents were urged, for the time being, to accept the proffered licen-
`ses in order to avoid mass infringement suits. Oscar Schuette was appointed
`the director of copyright activities for the NAB and given a free rein in any
`action involving ASCAP. Convention proceedings were given over mostly
`to the issue of the amount, $8 and $10 million annually, paid to A T & T
`for line charges, 60 percent of it by the networks, and to the welter of
`legal, technical, and economic problems facing an industry threatened by
`the presence of a new president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt,
`thought by
`many to be antibroadcasters.
`_
`With the opening, in early 1933, of the RCA—Rockefeller family’s $250-
`million Midtown New York real estate development, Rockefeller Center,
`built around the NBC headquarters and main studios, Variety moved its
`coverage of broadcasting up to a spot immediately ahead of “Vaudeville,”
`which the radio chains had supplanted as a national institution. One of the
`front—page headlines soon after, N0 DEPRESI-I FOR RADIO, was correct as far
`as the networks were concerned. Engaged in developing a mass medium
`for the nation, they had created the chief soapbox on which American busi-
`ness could make its honey-coated appeals to the broad base of consumers,
`60 million listeners, among whom unemployment had risen to 25 percent
`of the work force. Eleven of the twelve top—rateci radio shows advertised
`products made to sell for less than a dollar, and on the twelfth Al Jolson
`plugged the merits of General Motors’ lowest-priced Chevrolet automobile.
`The NAB’s strategy in 1933 to effect relief from the music-trust monop-
`oly was dedicated, almost entirely,
`to winning a per-program system of
`payment to copyright owners, which had been introduced by Claude Mills
`during discussions with broadcasters in the mid—1920s. With Schuette as its
`president, the Radio Program Foundation was activated, to demonstrate the
`viability of such a licensing process, as well as to build a source of tax~free
`music for radio, supplied by songwriters and composers not affiliated with
`ASCAP. One of the purposes outlined in the RPF’s charter was to “own
`stock in, lend money to, and otherwise assist” independent publishers. Some
`music—publishing veterans of the 1923 NAB v. ASCAP music war took
`advantage of the offer—publishers in Chicago and New York and the pres-
`tigious former ASCAP member G. Ricordi of Milan (which was long rep-
`res_ented in America by George Maxwell,
`the society’s first president).
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`Schuette’s enthusiasm and promises were not sufficient to produce a single
`hit song or earn enough performances of the RPF library, and the project
`died within the year for lack of support, only 10 percent of the NAB mem-
`bership contributing.
`The networks and large stations were simultaneously engaged in a strug-
`gle with American newspaper publishers for the right to broadcast “news.”
`In its formative years, radio was regarded as a source of amusing items,
`but as sets in use increased, many papers began to carry daily program
`listings and radio columns, in return for which stations read from the daiiy
`papers, properly crediting the sources. Later, some installed wire-service
`tickers to provide a wider range of news. Declines in advertising revenue,
`coupled with radio’s Election Day coverage of the Hoover-Roosevelt race
`for the presidency and the on-the-spot broadcasts reporting an attempt on
`the new president’s life, which killed the afternoon extra editions, led many
`papers to remove all program logs except as paid advertising. The wire
`services, Associated Press, United Press, and International News Service,
`allowed only local independent stations to use their tickers, on a for-pay
`basis. NBC and CBS opened their own news—gathering departments,
`the
`latter on a more ambitious scale, employing local correspondents around
`the United States and gaining access to foreign news services. Fearful of
`losing even its ineffectual relations with the press, NBC was the first to
`capitulate to the publishers’ demands; it reduced the activities of its news
`department, sweeping CBS along with it. A truce was arranged, and a Press-
`Radio Bureau was formed, with permission from the publishers’ associa-
`tion, to be used only in connection with nonsponsored broadcasting. The
`networks’ news departments were scrapped. When newspaper advertising
`revenues began to grow again, and more news publishers acquired their
`own broadcasting facilities, the constraints imposed on network news loos-
`ened, the tension decreased, and program listing returned to many news-
`papers. Except on the local level, however, news and commentary did not
`form an important aspect of broadcasting for several years. Some eight
`hours of news and commentary were regularly scheduled on the networks
`each week in 1934, doubling in 1940, but only after shortwave news broad-
`casts and the war in Europe attracted that 70 percent of all Americans who
`believed that radio news was more accurate than that in newspapers.
`The NAB conventioneers were mainly not correct in their apprehension
`in November 1932 of President Roosevelt’s view of broadcasting, mastery
`of which he immediately asserted with the first of his “fireside chats."
`Talking directly to--the people about momentous events facing the nation,
`he continued to use the medium as his chief means of communication
`throughout the twelve years of his administration. In imprinting his own
`stamp on the government, he originally called for the creation of a single
`commission to regulate communication by telephone and broadcasting. The
`Federal Radio Commission, formed in 1927 as a temporary body, was seven
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`American Popular Music and its Business
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`years old and the good friend of broadcasters, affirming that relationship
`with the statement that “any plan to eliminate the use of radio facilities for
`commercial advertising purposes will,
`if adopted, destroy the present sys-
`tem of broadcasting.” The declaration came in response to pleas from groups
`of educators and representatives of cultural organizations for the allocation
`of one fourth of all time on the air to nonprofit educational, religious, and
`other public-service broadcasts, which would truly represent the operation
`“in the public interest” called for in the commission’s mandate. During
`public hearings conducted by the commission, radio shared with Hollywood
`clamorous attacks on their “creeping degeneracy,” by the Legion of De-
`cency and other church-associated organizations. The new Congress came
`up with a compromise bill, substantially duplicating the 1927 act but with
`a few minor provisions endorsed by the broadcasters. It became law on
`July 1, 1934, and the seven—man Federal Communications Commission re-
`placed the FRC. The public—service protagonists were mollified by a re-
`quirement that the new commission study the allocation of fixed percent-
`ages of time to nonprofit groups. The FCC, like the former commission,
`was provided with a single restraint: the power to reject renewal applica-
`tions after three years, on the basis of findings from public hearings. Broad-
`casters were already governed by two sets of regulations, their own NAB
`Code of Ethics and Practices, adopted in 1929, and the NRA Code,
`im-
`posed by the federal govemment. Both dealt with many familiar trade abuses:
`manipulation of rate cards; monopolistic and discriminative practices; pay-
`ment of gratuities for song plugging on the air; blue-sky claims. Both were
`abused by various elements in the business.
`The firm hold of NBC and CBS on chain broadcasting was loosened in
`1934 by the formation of several small networks. Eight-, ten—, and twelve-
`station hookups,
`involving major NBC affiliates, were formed to handle
`transcribed commercial programs and spot advertising on a cooperative ba-
`sis; and MBS,
`the Mutual Broadcasting System, owned by the Chicago
`Tribune, was established. NBC addressed the challenge by introducing a
`station-relations department to deal with unhappy affiliates, added a music-
`library service to its electrical-transcription division, and went into the now
`important national spot-advertising business on behalf of its affiliates.
`MBS remained a four-station network for two years—the Tribune"s local
`station, WGN; Macy's WOR in New York; and stations in Detroit and
`Cincinnati. In 1936, twenty—three stations in New England and ten in Cali-
`fornia were affiliated with it; the total was forty-five the next year. Mutual
`paid all stations their regular commercial rates, deducting only a small sales
`commission, advertising—agency fees, and wire charges. Programs were cre-
`ated by originating stations or by sponsors and their agencies, the network
`itself owning no studios or transmitting facilities. It was in fact no more
`than a business office with sales and station-relations representatives.
`The ASCAP situation had taken second place to the newspaper—radio
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`1931-1940
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`problem, but there was much activity behind the scenes and on a local
`level, where broadcasters in thirty states were instrumental in the introduc-
`tion of legislation against music licensing. The NAB brought in a new at-
`torney to handle the copyright situation, Newton D. Baker, Cabinet mem-
`ber in Wilson’s administration and a powerful figure in Democratic Party
`circles. His connections were responsible for a Department of Justice inves-
`tigation of ASCAP, the second major examination of the society since the
`mid-19205, when it had been given a clean bill of health. It resulted in an
`antitrust suit against the society's officers, all its members, and other music-
`business organizations. Eleven pages of the complaint were devoted to a
`listing of the defendants’ names. ASCAP filed an answer in late 1934. The
`
`NAB and its members were confident that a decision would be reached
`before September 1, 1935, when the current three—year contract was to ex-
`pire.
`
`Complaints by NBC and CBS affiliates about the excessive share of
`ASCAP royalties they were asked to pay and the meager compensation
`payments they received from the networks threatened to split the NAB at
`its next annual meeting. They were little mollified by announcements in
`January 1935 of new affiliation rates. NBC abandoned any charge for sus-
`taining programs, for which it had been collecting $1,500 per station each
`month in return for several hours of free evening time. Compensation to
`affiliates was boosted on the basis of a sliding-scale percentage of time
`rates, increased to 25 percent by NBC and 22 percent by CBS. Under pre-
`vious contracts, the networks had grossed $42 million in 1934, of which
`affiliates received less than half, and spot and local advertising garnered
`them an additional $30 million. Altogether, radio paid ASCAP approxi-
`mately $850,000.
`A number of events in 1935 added a new perspective to the use of music
`on radio, and to its future course as well: a new program rating service;
`George Washington Hill's determination to have his own way on his own
`radio programs; the resignation from ASCAP of the Warner Brothers’ mu-
`sic businesses; and Martin Block’s introduction of “Make Believe Ball-
`room.”
`
`Block’s influence was not felt immediately. Only jukeboxes provided a
`truly varied fare of recorded music. That heard over most radio stations
`was a bland homogenization of Hollywood songs and those in the familiar
`Tin Pan Alley hit pattern, as well as the ever reliable music favored in the
`early days. The selection of popular music was left mostly to the orchestra
`leader or guest singing talent. Format music programing was anticipated
`only on Lucky Strike’s “Your Hit Parade," broadcast over the NBC Red
`Network on Saturdays, beginning in September 1935. It was the creation
`of the American Tobacco Company’s flamboyant president, George Wash-
`ington Hill, who was known for programs that were “the noisiest on the
`air.” Immortalized in the 1950s’ novel The Hucksrers, Hill was one of the
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`first to enforce a formula, or music format, on orchestra leaders. His budget
`to advertise Luckies in 1931 was nearly $20 million, a sum of such signif-
`icance to NBC that its executives mildly suffered his brash, boorish behav-
`ior and joined him at Saturday-morning rehearsals to test the “foxtrotabil-
`ity" of every selection programmed. Variety,
`in 1931, quoted from Hill’s
`music formula:
`
`The program shall consist of songs that made Broadway Broadway. Not
`songs that are making Broadway Broadway, but the songs that made Broad-
`way Broadway. People like to hear things their ears are attuned to, not new
`numbers. Songs that have so rung in the public ear that they mean something,
`recall something, start with a background of pleasant familiarity. Occasionally
`a new song may be used, but only when it has been presented first as a part
`of a Saturday program and is reviewed by the executive group at a Saturday
`dress rehearsal.
`Only the chorus of such songs shall be played. That is to say, the charac-
`teristically familiar melody content, not the introductory part.
`.
`.
`. There shall
`be no extravagant, bizarre, involved arrangements-—“no pigs squealing under
`the fence.” .
`.
`. The opening and closing numbers must be particularly stir-
`ring and rousing. Consideration must be given to contrasts particularly where
`the specialties are introduced. As they should constitute the soft element of
`the program,
`the numbers
`following must be particularly lively,
`and
`snappy.
`.
`.
`
`Variety, was not impressed with the premiere of “Your Hit Parade,"
`doubting that Hill could capture a large audience with “an ordinary aggre-
`gation of musicians, [forty, under Lennie Hayton’s direction] and warblers
`[five soloists and two vocal groups] and whip them into something extraor-
`dinary.” As for the week’s fifteen top hits, the paper declared: “If Lucky
`plans on playing ’em according to the actual standings it will have to do
`lots of repeating each week. They don’t turn over in the music business
`that fast.”
`the measurement of listener preference and share of
`Program ratings,
`audience that determines program content on both radio and television to-
`day, advanced in 1935 from the “listener preference" letters of the twen-
`ties. The first of the twelve methods current in 1935 was the Crossley Re-
`port, which was introduced by the American statistician Archibald M.
`Crossley and adopted by the Cooperative Analysis of Broadcasters, an as-
`sociation of advertising agencies and national advertisers. Relying on a group
`of listeners’ memories to determine which programs they had heard the
`previous day, Crossley used a telephone recall check. Coincidental tele-
`phone checking had been introduced by the Clark-Hooper Service,
`later
`Hooper Rating Reports, in 1934; the next year it became the official survey
`of the CAB. Experiments began in 1939 with the Nielsen Audimeter Sur-
`vey—meters attached to radio sets that recorded the exact length of time
`various stations were tuned in. The A. C. Nielsen organization had devel-
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`oped the Audimeters to supplement survey methods employed in connection
`with its three—million—dollar business in statistical checking of food and drug
`inventories in retail outlets.
`
`Until the broadcasting industry itself adopted other means, the networks
`operated on the principle that radio coverage could be measured like mag«
`azine circulation, and based all time rates on the 21 million sets in homes,
`a figure representing all the radio receivers believed to be in working order.
`The size of an audience for a network program was reckoned to be the
`accumulated number of sets within range of each participating station’s
`transmitter. The result was that advertisers spent three fourths of their radio
`budgets on one third of all stations. Local rate cards employed the same
`measurement, and cutthroat competition among the stations within a market
`induced rate cutting and dissension. Newspaper publishers were quick to
`jump on the statistical inconsistencies in the networks’ claims, followed by
`advertisers and their agencies, and the validity of radio’s claim to be the
`better advertising medium was in serious jeopardy until it, too, based rates
`on quantitative studies.
`The NAB convention in July 1935 set a new record for attendance; more
`than 400 broadcasters met to discuss the economic consequences of the
`networks’ bombshell announcement of an extension of the five percent
`ASCAP rate for five years. The society had insisted on collection from
`owned-and-operated network stations on the basis of card rates, but com-
`promised when NBC accepted an increase in the Sustaining—fee payments
`from flagship stations in New York, from $15,000 to $25,000 a year begin-
`ning in 1936.
`Many independents had been meeting with Claude Mills to discuss a
`change to “payment at the source” licensing of all network broadcasts, and
`they believed the society was ready to negotiate a new formula based on
`that principle. The govemment’s antitrust suit had gone to trial, but was
`adjourned after nine days at the govemment’s request. At that point, the
`assistant attorney general handling the case joined the NAB staff. Network
`representatives argued that the suit had been inadequately prepared and would
`probably be lost,
`in which event far more onerous terms would be de-
`manded.
`
`A Complicating issue was Warner’s announcement of its resignation from
`ASCAP. In the final days of 1935, NAB officials and members desperately
`negotiated for the improvement of a contract proposed by Warner, asking
`for 40 percent of the ASCAP sustaining rate and 2 percent of gross receipts.
`The latter figure was grudgingly reduced, but at the new year between 20
`and 40 percent of the total ASCAP repertory, depending on whose statistics
`were accurate, was not available to most American radio stations. In the
`
`next six months, until the Warner catalogue was restored to ASCAP, most
`of the music of Gershwin, Rodgers and Hart, Herbert, Romberg, the songs
`from Warner’s lavish musical film hits and those of many leading songwri-
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`American Popular Music and Its Business
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`ters, Broadway composers, and lyricists were not heard on the air. More to
`the point, there was little complaint from listeners about the omission.
`A more than coincidental factor in the film company’s defection was Jack
`Warner's hope to diversify his holdings and acquire control of a third na-
`tional radio network. When his offer to purchase the Mutual Broadcasting
`System, for more than one million dollars, was finally rejected in April
`1936, plans were stepped up for the activation of Muzak—wired radio,
`to
`compete with network radio, once Interstate Commerce Commission per-
`mission was granted. Muzak already offered eighteen hours of commercial-
`free recorded music on three channels: dance and popular music; light clas-
`sical; “better" instrumental and vocal, familiar standard, and palm-court
`music; and news broadcasts on the hour, interspersed with cultural and re-
`ligious programs and symphonic music. Carried to subscribers on telephone
`wires, Muzak programs were recorded on celluloid Millertape, and the re-
`sulting wide-range high-fidelity sound was superior to any on radio. Sixty-
`five percent of all homes in Belgium and Holland were already wired for
`entertainment, and wired radio was spreading on the Continent and in En-
`gland.
`The first patented plan to provide music, news, and entertainment to that
`half of all American homes already wired for electricity had been proposed
`to the mammoth public—utilities holding company North American in 1922
`by General George Owen Squier, chief army signal officer during World
`War 1. His scheme to use electric-power lines to transmit programs directly
`into homes and offices was immediately acquired by North American, and
`a subsidiary was formed, Wired Radio. A license to ride piggyback on
`power lines was contained, and plans were shaped for a nationwide broad-
`casting network. Large-scale experiments and irregular local service were
`interrupted by the Depression. They were resumed in 1934 when the Muzak
`Corporation was formed in New York and began to lease popular and dance
`music to night clubs, cafes, hotels, and restaurants. Among the parent Wired
`Radio’s board members in 1935 were two financial figures associated with
`the moving-picture business: Wadill Catchings, a member of the Warner
`board, and Harris Connick, Kuhn, Loeb’s original representative in Holly-
`wood.
`The veteran bandleader and recording artist Ben Selvin, who was a music
`supervisor for Brunswick under Warner’s ownership, headed the Muzak
`recording operation in ERPI-Warner Vitaphone’s former New York studios.
`Many of the artists he used were under contract to Columbia and Bruns-
`wick, but they worked for him on condition that their names not be used.
`Muzak had an open-end agreement with ASCAP, but depended for much
`of its music on Associated Music Publishers, a holding company for non-
`ASCAP music, chiefly standard classical and operatic selections published
`by French, German, and Viennese houses.
`In 1938, when Muzak was unable to secure permission from the FCC to
`
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`1931-1940
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`169
`
`it concentrated on special music services de-
`compete with the networks,
`signed for offices and factories, as well as the home audience, under War-
`ner Brothers’ majority ownership, and a new transcribed-music library ser-
`vice for radio was instituted using the AMP label.
`Ten years after its inception in 1927, network broadcasting enjoyed a
`$55-million year, and the price for a single affiliated station was at a new
`high: the $1.2 million paid by CBS for the Los Angeles KNX operation, to
`serve as the principal point of nighttime programing. An increased empha-
`sis on improved relations with affiliates, following the findings of an inde-
`pendent busi