Classic FM's Countdown to the Hall of Shame
June 2009 What with the recent Sony Radio Academy Awards, Classical BRIT Awards, and 2009 Hall of Fame all spotlighting the UK radio station Classic FM, it's nothing short of the height of timing and appositeness for musoc.org to bestow upon the station an award it has been long overdue: induction as inaugural Class(ical) Traitor of the Month into the Hall of Shame.
Given its position as one of the world's most popular national stations almost since its start-up in 1992, it might be supposed that Classic FM is exactly what art music needs to stop it haemorrhaging out of the public consciousness for ever, particularly in the UK.
In fact it would be uncharitable not to concede that, like musoc.org's Hall of Shame, Classic FM's Hall of Fame is rather aptly named. Not just because the 'fame' of some of the music enshrined within appears to derive almost entirely from having been manufactured on Classic FM — compositions by the likes of Ludovico Einaudi, Karl Jenkins, Howard Goodall and Craig Armstrong, for example. (A detail which the station, with typical shrewdness and mercenariness (though not always honesty [1]) uses to market the latest double CD release on its own label: "Made Famous By Classic FM".)
But also because 'fame' is the name of the modern media game, an essential element of packaging and marketing. Although it's not a game, of course — it's the serious business of serious money-making. Classic FM is a brand, with a modern image, media-friendly presenters, glamorous pet performers, friends in high places: all guaranteed — and more importantly, existing — to sell merchandise, from CDs and concert tickets to, apparently, the replacement car windscreens and insurance of advertisers and business partners.
Dummies and Mummies
It should come as no surprise that Classic FM was the brainchild of marketeers, not lovers of art music (a term the station would certainly never use). It's a commercial broadcaster that sells products over the airwaves — one that happened to hit on the (rather astute) idea of using listener-friendly 'classical' music as a pacifier, to allure and then anaesthetise the desired target audience. (What isn't 'relaxing' — quite a lot of it, as with all art — rarely or never gets an airing.)
In its own words, its mission is "to bring classical music to the widest possible audience". Yet, regardless of the enthusiasm and knowledge of some of its more bona fide presenters (see below for the less bona fide), Classic FM as a corporation has as much interest in art music as it does in quantum physics. All other radio stations owned by the parent company, Global Radio (known to refer to listeners as 'shoppers'), are traffickers in non-stop pop (that is, when the adverts aren't running). Even Classic FM's education outreach programme is, like most outreach programmes by commercial organisations, designed to enhance its image and make influential friends.
All that matters to the company's stakeholders is how successful the music played is in helping advertisers persuade listeners to buy their products. The playlists naturally reflect this: apart from its long-running (and unironically-named) late-evening 'Full Works Concert' slot (its much-reduced advertising burden reflects the fact that much of its 'target audience' is now taken to be fast asleep), all programme playlists are an abattoir of ad-friendly 'bleeding chunks'.
From its earliest days, in fact, the musical menu, glorified and all but ossified in the Hall of Fame, has consisted almost entirely of sweetmeats: minimalism, adagios, pastoralism, film soundtracks and 'crossover'. (It also tried its luck once with 'chillout' muzak and a bit of jazz, but mercifully audiences did not approve.) This is reflected in the station's current mantra, which it blazons over the airwaves with indefatigable constancy: "Your Relaxation Station".
Like an open-all-hours musical pharmacist it dispenses 'smooth classics', music to relax by 'after a rough day'. An innocent alien tuning in would never realise that many of the giants and geniuses of 20th century music, like Hindemith, Ives, Messiaen, Schoenberg, Skriabin, Webern, and countless others, had ever existed. Their music has a gross deficiency in smoothness; in other words, too much dissonance, torment or loudness.
Similarly, the social and historical context of music selections has been obliterated, apart from occasional and much-repeated anecdotes from CD sleeve notes or the company's own inane publications (especially if they make the composer seem zany or 'fun'). A thousand years of art music has been pruned down to a few hundred excerpts (from a few hundred works) that management and advertisers consider suitable as background music for dinner parties, household chores, revising for exams, driving, and any other tasks that require no actual listening.
Needless to say, this approach brought Classic FM a Music Programming Gold Award at the recent Sony Radio Academy knees-up (see below). Translated into English, this accolade from the industry politburo is substantiation that, as a packager of music, Classic FM effectively turns works of art into what Peter Maxwell Davies aptly described in a speech in 2007 as "a drug, an all-powerful soporific, insulating the victims from all reality, and particularly from political reality". [2]
Classic FM Plays Pop
Predictably, playlists, the 'classical chart' countdown and the Hall of Fame are all fetishised. Popularity lists are a longstanding, typically vacuous bulwark of pop culture; accordingly, Classic FM listeners are continually reminded how many places a work has risen or fallen in this or last year's Hall of Fame, or if it's a 'non-mover' or 'new entry' on this week's 'album chart'; certain composers, regardless of the critically-established quality of their music, have even acquired the soubriquet of 'One Hit Wonders' (those well-known has-beens Robert Schumann & Benjamin Britten, for example). The sheer capricious pointlessness of it is epitomised by the fact that in this, his bicentenary year — regularly mentioned on Classic FM — Joseph Haydn's massive and extensively bejewelled body of works is reduced to three entries in the 2009 Hall of Fame — including only one of his 106 symphonies and none of his 83 string quartets or 62 keyboard sonatas.
In other areas too the pop orientation is writ large. For example, there's the creeping, crass habit (especially marked in ex-pop presenter Simon Bates) of excising any silence between 'DJ' chitchat and the start or ending of a 'track'; sometimes the voiceover actually intrudes into the first or last second or two. Or the hyping of the musically mediocre — Russell Watson becomes 'The Voice' or even 'The Ultimate Voice'; Ludovico Einaudi 'one of the world's greatest living composers'; Howard Goodall, the station's current and tirelessly advertised 'composer-in-residence' (and presenter), 'one of the world's most renowned living composers'.
Or there's the promotion of a conveyor-belt of young, glamourous performers (most often nubile women in décolleté, such as Vanessa-Mae or Katherine Jenkins) and record company cash cows, some with less discernible talent than others, like Faryl Smith (the 13-year-old schoolgirl who recently signed a musically ludicrous but financially lucrative £2.3 million deal with Universal for an album of sentimental hymns and 'arias' — which has since become the 'fastest selling classical [sic] debut solo album in history'), Bond (four skimpily dressed females — and the biggest-selling string quartet ever), and Katherine Jenkins again (who late last year landed a reported $10 million US contract with Warner Music to sing middle-of-the-road fluff).
Then there are the station's star-studded presenters, whose 'previous track record', as they say, is indicative of 'artistic' priorities. Names (past & present) like Alex James (pop guitarist), Katie Derham & John Suchet (former newsreaders), Stephen Fry (comedian & TV presenter), Laurence Llewelyn Bowen (TV presenter), Richard E. Grant & Tony Robinson (actors), Myleene Klass (former pop & crossover star, now TV celebrity), Mark Forrest, Simon Bates & Mark Goodier (all former pop DJs), and possibly the station's most maddening voice (albeit run a close second by Tony Robinson), Margherita Taylor, who is "equally at home presenting for Classic FM, interviewing the Prime Minister or fronting a TV pop show" — and indeed she really is a pop DJ, having presented the BBC's 'Top of the Pops' and currently hosting the 'Morning Show' on London's Capital FM.
Retainment of this firmament is plainly not on the strength of their knowledge of art music (pronunciation of names and titles comes easy to few of them, and some give the impression of reading verbatim and senza espressione from a script), but because they have 'pulling power'. The 2007 Sony Radio Academy Awards panel (see below), naming Classic FM 'UK Station of the Year', referred to this as "imaginative use of celebrities not generally known for their love of classical music." Prize specimen Alex James's matey, 'blokeish' (and doltish) presentation earned him a Bronze in the category of Music Broadcaster of the Year at this year's awards.
Classic FM's obsession with pop culture 'street cred' (of a cosy middle-class variety) is typified by an entry in its 'Online Composer Info'. There are only two names listed under 'A': Tomaso Albinoni and...Craig Armstrong. (Malcolm Arnold was mysteriously dropped from the list recently.) In the unlikely event that the music lover has never heard of this lattermost 'household name', Armstrong is the composer of 'film themes' that include "James Bond, Batman and Mission Impossible." He is, no less, "one of the world's most sought after composers and arrangers, having worked with the likes of Massive Attack on their 'Protection' album (which earned him his own solo record contract), Madonna and U2."
As bizarre as Armstrong's inclusion is, and as paradoxical as it may seem at first glance, Classic FM actually promotes itself as a champion of living composers. Amazingly, it does this without the aid of a single note by Adès, Aho, Brett, Carter, Birtwistle, Gubaidulina, Jolas, Nørgård, Penderecki, Sculthorpe, Weir, or, for that matter, virtually anyone else living and writing art music. A shufti at Classic FM's take on the 'Contemporary Era' quickly clarifies the situation. (The era began, it seems, in 1960 when modernism "was running out of steam. The real rebels were now to be found in rock 'n' roll.") The new generation of composers apparently 'relaxed' and gave the waiting world both a New Spirituality and Minimalism, music which "reflects our cosmopolitan, technologically-advanced society." Furthermore, "lovers of the classics have taken equally to the music of Karl Jenkins or Ludovico Einaudi."
As they say, "the biggest question nowadays is: what constitutes classical music?" Or, then again, who cares, because, as they also say, "whatever it's labelled doesn't really matter anymore." (Except to musoc.org.)
Vultures of a Feather
With its own extensive merchandising operations — a non-stop 'classical music' video channel, magazine (which easily outsells its UK rivals Gramophone and BBC Music Magazine), record label, book publishers and concert promotion arm — not to mention various long-term links with music festivals (e.g. Canterbury, Two Moors, the Welsh Proms) and leading orchestras (including the London SO, Royal Liverpool PO, Northern Sinfonia and Royal Scottish NO) — Classic FM constitutes on its own a significant chunk of the music trade.
But naturally it has strong ties with other parts of the media industry and business in general. Apart from its tasteful plugging of Sky at every opportunity, it sponsors, for example, the Arts and Business Awards, and the yearly 'Classic FM Gramophone Awards', self-styled as conferrer of 'the world's most influential classical music prizes', with the historically illustrious (but recently more downmarket-pointing) Gramophone magazine. The awards ceremony indicatively takes place at one of London's most exclusive hotels.
The station also has a big hand in the even more glitzy, inbred and ludicrous Classical BRIT Awards, organised by the global music industry's British branch, the BPI. (How ludicrous? The winner in 2008 of 'Outstanding Contribution to Music' was...Andrew Lloyd Webber.) The ceremony features microphonically enhanced performances by media-company paragons, presided over by drooling Classic FM presenters and showbiz pals reverently handing out trophies to composers of crossover candyfloss as if they were new Beethovens, and to musicians whose bank balances far exceed their credibility or credentials.
Classic FM also regularly wins prizes at the annual Sony Radio Academy Awards, the radio 'Oscars' in the UK, according to those who profit from it. In plain English it's a grandiose exposition (34 awards this year) of cultural nepotism. Sony, coincidentally, is one of Classic FM's most-played labels, and some of the judges are, coincidentally, top brass at Classic FM. There were four nominations for the station this year, including, coincidentally, 'UK Station of the Year', and, taking plausibility into uncharted waters, 'Music Broadcaster of the Year' for Alex James (see above). In the event, it struck Gold in the Music Programming Award, where the judges praised it in typically (and aptly) disingenuous (and sometimes Orwellian) language: "Tying together varied and disparate styles of music with subtlety and verve, Classic FM have achieved a listen that is compelling and accessible, yet doesn't shy away from exposing the listener to unfamiliar styles and genres. Programmed with creativity and panache and presented with passion and credibility, delivering a flow of music which could come from anytime in the last 500 years."
None of this could be possible without a lot of behind-the-scenes work, of course. Pride of place goes to the 'Classic FM Consumer Panel', whose purpose is "to channel the views and ideas of listeners through to the people who run Classic FM". One of the ways they do this, it says here, is by organising an 'Advert of the Quarter' competition. Outlandishly, two of the adjudication criteria are "Appropriateness within Classic FM's programming" (quite a consideration, given that most broadcasted ads are for replacement windscreens, solicitors, sofas and cars), and the "Enjoyment of listeners on a repeated hearing of the advertisement". In the glossy world inhabited by Classic FM, audiences not only desire their music chopped up into morsels and served with lashings of adverts and patter, they actually salivate at the thought.
I Come Not to Praise Classic, but...
Of course, there's no doubt that the Hall of Fame, and the Classic FM playlists in general, contain music (and recordings) of the highest calibre.
Furthermore, it's almost certainly true more people listen more regularly to 'classical' music than would be the case if Classic FM didn't exist. The ongoing downhill/downmarket slide under kingpin Roger Wright's direction of its only rival, BBC Radio 3 (following a general drift towards ever greater commercialisation-cum-trivialisation of the whole BBC), which has seen a sharp increase in pop-style practices and mannerisms and a reduction of live music (all well-documented by the Friends of Radio 3 pressure group), has unquestionably added to Classic FM's audience, at least in the relatively ad-free and bleeding-chunk-free late evenings.
Currently, in fact, Classic FM offers an interesting glimpse of a far less exasperating future for commercial radio — its recently-introduced 'interruption-free' hour (9-10am), during which there are, blissfully, no ads, trailers or bulletins (well, almost); only sponsors NS&I get an occasional mention. If only the rest of the day could go the same way, Classic FM would surely not only increase its audience still further, but also reduce the number of its current listeners visiting neurologists.
In any case, it would be unreasonable to insist that there's no place in the world for a radio station that caters for people who on occasion — because of tiredness, lack of time etc — only fancy dipping a toe into the vast ocean of art music.
Classic FM Branded
But even at the station's best, audiences still aren't getting music as art. 'Consumers' can stay tuned to Classic FM every minute of the rest of their lives, yet, assuming the repetitious ads, irritating voices, and endless self-promotion didn't compel them to throw themselves into a tar pit first, still never acquire any deeper knowledge of music as art.
Classic FM says it plays "familiar music alongside less known pieces, all chosen to uplift, soothe and stir the emotions"; this approach, it claims, makes 'classical' music "as accessible to as many people as possible."
Yet despite sustained commercial efforts to the contrary, art music (and art in general) is not constitutionally accessible. It is by definition musically and intellectually complex and sophisticated; its intent is to communicate intense and/or transcendent reflections on the human condition. As such it requires relatively high levels of attention, prior understanding and competence from listeners to be anything beyond superficially attractive.
Furthermore, art music isn't a 'brand' or 'merchandise' either. It's not another pick-'n'-mix item for those putting together their own 'lifestyle package'. To reduce it in such a way trivialises art and is tantamount to an acquiescence to the advertisers who would commodify the air we breathe if they could.
Ultimately, the cause of art music doesn't need Classic FMs. A state-funded national radio station broadcasting 24 hours a day of CDs, with minimal presentation and without live music is one of the items on musoc.org's campaign wishlist (see About), and would cost taxpayers almost nothing.
Classic FM is only anything more than this in that it carves up and packages the music in cynical and intensely annoying ways. At best, all it truly succeeds in doing is getting people hearing — not even really listening to — a narrow range of 'classics', embalmed in the Hall of Fame. Moreover, it buttresses the stereotype of a mummified, apolitical, anodyne, bourgeois culture with little relevance to the 21st century.
Classic FM is a butcher; easy-going and smooth-talking, but ultimately repetitive, disingenuous and highly materialistic. It has little genuine interest in the origins or content of its meat, just as long as people buy it — with all the trimmings.
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Notes
1 CD2 includes Rachmaninov's 2nd Piano Concerto, Mozart's Clarinet Concerto and Handel's 'Zadok the Priest'. 'Played to Death by Classic FM' would have been a more candid, but less marketable, title. [Back up]
2 Peter Maxwell Davies (qua 'Master of the Queen's Music'), keynote speech to the Incorporated Society of Musicians annual conference, entitled 'A case for classical music, old and new', April 2007. [Back up]