Many moons ago, my morning routine was soundtracked by a small, tinny-sounding radio that sat in the oddly shaped bathroom of the moderately sized apartment my girlfriend and I first rented in Altdorf bei Nürnberg. Since we lived on the top floor, we had the misfortune of having to deal with the gabled roof that sat either side of the flat, and which required both of us to shower half lying down, or, if we were feeling up to it, in a kneeling position. The sheer luxury of a standing shower would not be afforded to us until five years later, when we moved house. Our routine never varied. As my girlfriend made the coffee, I would shower in perfect silence, focusing entirely on the awkward process of trying to wash in the most unnatural of positions with a less than effective shower head. Once I'd finished, I would walk the few steps to the living room to inform my now caffeinated partner that it was her turn to contort herself in a similar vein. It was only then that my morning torture would truly begin.

German radio, for those who may not have had the singular pleasure, is not easy to describe, nor is it particularly easy to listen to. I had become accustomed, after a lifetime of BBC radio stations, to hearing a coherent playlist curated for very specific tastes. The BBC is mandated by Royal Charter to provide a range of services for both young and old, with the stations divided into age groups. Radio 1 focuses on the younger demographic, while Radio 2 would provide a mix of old and slightly newer hits to accommodate the tastes of those creeping inevitably towards their forties. German radio didn't, or rather doesn’t, follow a similar fashion. Instead, every age range is bundled together, which results in a cacophony of tracks that sound like they were selected at random. One minute you’re listening to a new release, the next, the B side of some obscure British band from the 60s that was inexplicably popular in Europe but seemingly not anywhere else, and certainly not in their homeland.

After trying for months to get used to this aural attack, best suited to some nefarious dungeon, I gave up, deciding that showering in an unnatural position was more than enough torment. My girlfriend, raised on the steady diet of stations such as Antenna Bayern, or Bayern 3, persevered. As the flat was small, I had no choice but to listen to the blaring lunacy happening mere feet from the breakfast table. It wasn’t just the music that was designed to inspire insanity, the presenters of the morning shows seemed to revel in their role as audio tormentors. I was used to the inanity of 'breakfast radio', the BBC wasn’t perfect after all, but what I would hear on those mornings defied even my own low expectations. There would be characters and skits, not ones I would understand, mind you, as my German was not at a level where I could actually follow much of what was being said, but it was clear, after months of listening, what was happening by the formulaic nature of the shows. I might not have been able to translate the language, but I fully understood the medium, more’s the pity.

As the months and years went on, and my German improved, I began to realise that the high levels of humour I found in everyday Germany were not replicated for the pleasure of the listening audience. The best way I can describe it, is that the “comedy” was ripped directly from some badly made 70s farce, where the central element was a character who had a funny voice, or made fart jokes, or occasionally said a rude word, but in a Bavarian dialect. I knew the German stereotype about humour, and I knew from my own lived experience that Germans could be exceptionally funny, but apparently this was not allowed on the radio. No, what we were subjected to was something closer to badly performed student improv. Combined with the music, I began to welcome the morning commute on a freezing train into the city. At least there, people had the decency to shut up once in a while.

I can’t say that German radio, especially the larger stations, has gotten any better. Every so often, out of sheer morbid curiosity, I’ll tune the car radio to one or other of those stations, and then quickly turn it off as the same P!nk track rattles out of the speaker. I never really understood why P!nk seemed to be the artist of choice, but after a decade of living here, I believe that radio is legally mandated to have at least one P!nk song playing at any one time. I assume it’s something like the ravens at the Tower of London: should P!nk not be playing somewhere, the whole German edifice will crumble and fall.

Since this is Germany, there is a logic as to why German radio is terrible. Barring the exceptional output of DeutschlandFunk, which is an oasis in the desert of bad character voices, faux friendliness, and jarring playlists, most radio aims to appeal to as wide a demographic as possible. This is part of the business model, one that needs the advertising money to keep rolling in. Through endless focus grouping and market research, many commercial radio stations have found a way of producing 24hrs of radio, that appeals to any and all ages (as long as they don’t mind being driven slowly insane) and can thus also present a captive audience for fast food chains, national supermarkets, and anyone else who wants to sell directly to the middle of the road.

This approach is also the direct result of music streaming becoming a dominant force. With users now able to curate their own playlists, becoming more and more niche as time goes on, the radio appears to have gone completely in the opposite direction. Instead of having stations that appeal to different age groups, or different musical tastes, it now just aims for the largest target possible. The result has been that nearly all radio stations sound the same, with the same music, the same adverts and the same warbling patter from the DJs.

This being Germany, the looming bulk of bureaucracy also plays its own oversized part. Sifting through PDF after PDF, it becomes clear that there is an extra expense to be factored in, coming as it does in the form of GEMA (Gesellschaft für musikalische Aufführungs- und mechanische Vervielfältigungsrechte), which collects royalties on behalf of performers. Although a fairly noble ideal, it does add a blanket cost to playing music, as well as hindering the setup of independent or new radio stations. Paying an annual fee, rather than per song, does negate some of the more spiky elements, but it surely has to factor into the thinking of anyone wishing to play music for a public audience, given that costs can increase depending on audience size. There is one way to avoid payment - playing music from artists who have been dead for 70 years incurs no charge. If your dream is to found a jazz radio station, you might find you have a cheaper time of it.

The unchanging nature of German radio seems secure, if my experience of it over ten years is anything to go by. Although the larger stations seem stuck in their ways, the smaller regional providers do offer some respite from the generic insipidness offered to state and national audiences. After all this time, I’ve even found a station that I can happily listen to, on my morning drive to the office, which plays music that makes some sense, and includes a number of new and upcoming German artists. I can’t say I love it, but I can tolerate it, although I’m not entirely certain that German radio hasn’t already driven me over the edge.

Proofreader: @ScandiTina

Image Credit
Photo by Rod Flores on Unsplash
Photo by Jacob Hodgson on Unsplash
Photo by Zoltan Fekeshazy on Unsplash
Photo by Anmol Arora on Unsplash
Photo by Alexey Ruban on Unsplash
Photo by Andrea De Santis on Unsplash
Photo by Jorge Salvador on Unsplash