Payola: exploring the dark practice of bribing radio stations
Like any global economic force, the music industry witholds a certain degree of subterfuge in its deepest and darkest depths. Whilst this can come be found in any form, from the publicity stunts that Malcolm McLaren perfected for the Sex Pistols to Milli Vanilli not singing their songs, music is no stranger to the dark arts. One place in which this is evidenced is the practice of payola. This is the illegal method of paying a commercial radio station to play a song without the station disclosing the payment in what is essentially a form of bribery.
Whilst many people in Britain might have only heard this term via the compilation album released by indie band The Cribs in 2013 of the same name, Payola is a historical practice that has occurred on both sides of the Atlantic for as long as the music industry has existed. Notably, in recent times, the practice has infiltrated streaming sites with record companies using money to influence the songs included on the most prominent playlists.
Regarding payola on the radio, the method has always been a background force. It is one that US law looks particularly severely on. Under the law in America, a radio station must disclose songs it is paid to play on the air as sponsored airtime. As the number of times a track is aired is confirmed to increase its prominence and popularity, with numerous cases of payola influencing these outcomes in the past, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) deems it a violation of the Sponsorship Identification Rules. These rules require any broadcast of paid material to include full disclosure. With that, it is not simply direct payment used to push a track up the charts via the radio. Other forms of reimbursement also exist. These include purchasing advertising, requiring the artist to play station-sponsored concerts, or paying stations to hold meet-and-greets with said acts. In exchange, the artist gains a place on the station’s playlist.
The term payola is a portmanteau of “pay” and “ola”, with the latter a suffix of a host of ubiquitous product names from the early 20th century, including Pianola, Victrola, Amberola, Crayola, Rock-Ola, Shinola, and Motorola as well.
Reflecting the old roots of the practice, before the 1930s, there was little to no scrutiny concerning why a song was popular – its quality was accepted as a given. From 1935 onwards, the advertising houses that sponsored the NBC radio and TV show, Your Hit Parade, refused to disclose the methods used to determine a top hit. Offering expectedly vague statements, they explained that hits were secured based on “readings of radio requests, sheet music sales, dance hall favourites and jukebox tabulations”. At this time, early attempts to halt payola were met with silence from publishers, who still held unchecked power.
Then, after the musical boom of the 1950s, that decade, prosecution for payola ironically started as part of an adverse reaction by the traditional music establishment against newcomers wanting a slice of the pie. For instance, the emergence of hit radio, a successful format focusing on playing current popular music as determined by the top 40 charts, threatened the wages of professional song pluggers and publishers’ revenue.
Another demonstration of the shift against payola in the 1950s came via the independent record companies and publishers who used payola as one of their vital tools for promoting the biggest musical craze of the era: rock and roll. Things got so out of hand that in 1959, the first US Congressional Payola Investigation took place, which was overseen by the House Subcommittee on Legislative Oversight into payola. This prompted another investigation by the Senate.
Celebrated DJ Alan Freed, a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee, credited with spreading the gospel of rock ‘n’ roll in the 1950s and breaking down the racial barriers between Black and white listeners, found himself in the firing line of these investigations. As he was uncooperative in the committee hearings, he was eventually fired from his job at WINS in New York.
On the other hand, Dick Clark, the DJ and longtime American Bandstand host, who broke many iconic acts, including Iggy Pop, Prince, Ike and Tina Turner, and Simon and Garfunkel, was also forced to testify before the committee. However, he avoided punishment, partially because he had divested his ownership interest in the practice. After the investigation, American DJs were stripped of the authority to make programming decisions, and payola became an offence.
The choice of the music played on the radio became the responsibility of a station’s program director. However, this did not have the desired effect, as it trusted people too much. It simplified payola, with record labels now only needing to schmooze the director at a station rather than multiple DJs. Numerous cases of payola have still occurred since then, with some record companies doing what any valuable business does – adapting.
Payola continues to divide the music industry today. Recent probes have found that middle-men and quid pro quo agreements still exist, although it is not as prevalent as it once was. In contemporary times, payola is helped by the emergence of streaming platforms that have brought the record label and radio stations into direct contact again.
