What matters is if you’re going to be able to work this thing out”).Delilah has long branded herself as the Queen of Sappy Love Songs, but she pushes back against the title.Tonight, Delilah's 35-year-old daughter Lonni is filling in, and reminds her mother to record the short monologue that will air before the next commercial break."Smoothin' off the rough edges of your day as you relax and unwind.Did you have a great day today, or did you have a tough day?How could someone have the emotional stamina to console and consult dozens of people every night?And why have so many of us accepted her as part of our lives, sharing 30 years of secrets and memories as if she were a therapist or a nosy friend?
That voice is the essence of the show, and during my time in the studio, caller after caller told her how its tone alone has provided comfort at some of their lowest points.
The Telecommunications Act of 1996 lifted the limit on the number of stations a single company could own, paving the way for conglomerates like i Heart Media (formerly Clear Channel) to expand across the country.
Many DJs lost their shows, and others were ordered to talk less and play from scripted, market-tested playlists.“During this time of deregulation, where there was less spontaneity on the air, you had the rise of shock jocks,” explains Steve Knopper, author of music business history Appetite for Self-Destruction.
You forget that we all are listening to you and seeing you be a knucklehead." When Delilah hangs up on the girls, she enters a song into a computer that's connected to a second studio in downtown Seattle, 20 miles away, where a staff of 14 handles the technical and logistical aspects of the show.
Usually her most senior producer, Janey, a friend and colleague since the early ’90s, either plays it or — if she dares — explains why it doesn't fit.
"It's like going to your hairdresser," Delilah tells me.