Radio’s Blackout : <i> Why Are So Many Acclaimed Black Artists Ignored by Black Stations?</i>

Stevie Wonder is one of black music’s most visionary and socially compassionate artists.

A great admirer of reggae legend Bob Marley and African music, he’s written the reggae-flavored “Boogie On Reggae Woman” and has played harmonica on an album by Nigerian bandleader King Sunny Ade.

So, why can you hear virtually no reggae, African music or even blues on Wonder’s own KJLH-FM, L.A.’s highest-rated black radio station?

It’s the same reason you don’t hear these sounds on almost any other major black-oriented station across the country: radio programmers simply feel their listeners aren’t interested in anything that falls outside of the accepted mainstream.

African and reggae musicians aren’t the only ones being excluded. Even Robert Cray, the singer-guitarist whose “Strong Persuader” album has made him the most successful black blues figure with the rock audience since B. B. King, receives almost no black airplay.

Among other highly regarded black artists who have found it hard to attract the airplay that would be helpful in winning black fans: folk-rocker Joan Armatrading, the quirky funk-rock band Fishbone, the theatrical, eclectic Kid Creole & the Coconuts and hard-rock singer-guitarist Jon Butcher.

About the Cray situation, Vernon Reid, an outspoken New York rock musician and journalist, says that most blacks “are loath to accept music that reflects a life style (they) don’t identify with or aspire to. . . . And that would include the blues.”

Taking the argument a step further, Reid, who is black, suggested that visual aesthetics also play a part in the commercial appeal of black artists. “If Joan Armatrading had the gorgeous, ‘perfect’ features of a Sade, I think black radio would be more receptive to her music.

“Armatrading is a talented artist, but she is also more African-looking in a way that’s not acceptable to many black Americans. A light-skinned (African) singer like a Jonathan Butler is acceptable; Ladysmith Black Mambazo--a group that is clearly African and plays music that is more traditionally African--is not.”

The theory of a socially accepted appearance versus musical worth is something that Kendall Jones, a member of the wildly eccentric L.A. rock group Fishbone, has examined.

“If it means we’ve got to get jheri curls and sound like Luther Vandross to be accepted, we’re not going to do it,” says Jones, 21. “We’d like a bigger black audience, but we want it on our own terms. We’re not B-Boys. And we don’t play ballads or disco.”

Listen to most urban radio stations and you get the impression that all black music fits conveniently into one of several well-structured categories: ultra-funk (Prince, Cameo), ‘80s soul (Anita Baker, Luther Vandross), polished R&B;/pop (Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson), rap (Run-D.M.C., L.L. Cool J) or, on Sunday mornings, gospel (the Winans, Tremaine).

One reason black audiences may not be interested in alternative sounds is the success of some of those sounds.

“The black community in America is very proud of its own artistic developments in music,” observed Puma Jones, an American who recently left the prominent reggae group Black Uhuru for a solo career. “Looking for another music form is not something that would just happen naturally.”

Programmers say they are not against playing “international” artists if there is any evidence their audience wants to hear them.

“If King Sunny Ade was a real giant, mass-appeal artist, we’d jump on his records,” said KJLH-FM program director Cliff Winston. “He had a concert here not long ago and we gave away tickets and I’d say the majority of the audience didn’t even know who he was. When you have to make a profit, you have to (attract) listeners. . . . Nothing else matters.”

And that type of bottom-line thinking makes life difficult for artists who work outside the black mainstream.

Even the late Bob Marley, the acknowledged king of reggae, wasn’t immune. Shortly before his death, he had started on a 1980 arena tour opening for the Commodores--a tactic expressly designed to increase his exposure to black audiences.

“It’s frustrating in that you want to reach the black community because you feel you have music that relates to them,” says Puma Jones. “You go where your public is, but you can’t force-feed a situation. We (Black Uhuru) didn’t trouble ourselves with it--we just felt we would always have to work harder to reach a broader audience.”

Typically, most black artists are concerned with finding ways to crack the larger white market--but how do artists like Cray and Armatrading address the unusual challenge of how to win more black fans?

When it comes to the blues, Narveline Hunt, West Coast promotions manager at PolyGram Records, has her own view on why it seldom attracts black audiences or gets urban airplay.

“Young black people don’t identify with the blues, but then how can they if they never hear it? I’ve gotten some positive feedback from black radio when I’ve worked product by Robert (Cray). But I’ve also gotten the response, ‘Hey, if we don’t play B. B. King, Bobby (Blue) Bland or Z. Z. Hill, we’re not going to play Robert Cray.’ ”

But it does happen sometimes, even if most of the music industry fails to notice it. The biggest blues success story before Cray was the late Z. Z. Hill, who ultimately earned a gold record for his “Down Home” album released in 1982. That record sold almost exclusively to the black blues market, and Hill’s song “Down Home Blues” received substantial airplay on black stations in major cities.

Stewart Madison of Malaco Records, a Jackson, Miss., label that focuses on blues, R&B; and gospel artists and released Hill’s “Down Home,” says of Cray: “I don’t think the average black music buyer on the street knows who Robert Cray is. I think he is strictly a white-oriented artist who happens to be black. (PolyGram) never tried to take him black because musically he couldn’t go black.”

Trying to gain airplay for black acts that don’t fit the standard format can be a frustrating experience for record promoters. Ironically, black radio isn’t averse to programming someone like white funk/rock composer Teena Marie, because she fits the traditional format. Her audience is predominately black and her records generally “break” on urban radio.

A&M; Records regional promotions director Rich Calloway, who is black, says black radio “tends not to be responsive to music you can’t dance to.”

While stating that he had been moderately successful in getting KACE, a black-oriented station with a “Quiet Storm” (mellow-listening) format, to play product by Joan Armatrading, he added: “Urban (dance-oriented) stations need to take more of a leadership role in exposing (non-mainstream black artists), even if it means creating more progressive programming on Sundays or late at night.

“For example, it wouldn’t kill black radio to play some reggae,” he reflected. “The million-dollar question is, ‘Why don’t they?’ ”

That’s a question that Randall Grass, whose Shanachie Records label primarily releases albums by reggae and African artists, has been dealing with for years. “I think there is much more openness in the black community, and people in the industry who happen to be black, to reggae and African music now,” he says.

“Reggae just has to demonstrate more credibility on the commercial level--which, of course, is a chicken-egg situation that depends on getting mixed in with the pop music on the radio.”

Reggae has had to approach black radio from the outside--a Catch-22 situation because cracking playlists often entails blending in with the prevailing radio norm. The group Third World made some inroads through its association with Stevie Wonder on the moderate hit “Try Jah Love” several years ago, and Shanachie is currently trying to establish Judy Mowatt in the black market with a version of Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness,” produced by Philly soul veteran Dexter Wansel.

“You gotta be realistic and realize that, to some degree, you have to reach out to something that will be compatible with what’s being played on the air. Otherwise, forget it,” Grass said.

Winston of KJLH agrees with Grass but suggests it’s part of the general makeup of commercial radio, especially Top 40. “A station like KIIS or KPWR will play a certain amount of black product but it has to be the black product that appeals to their core audience,” Winston notes.

“That’s how we look at pop, blues or reggae records. The closer to the mainstream, the better for us, so we’ll play a Third World or Steel Pulse every once in a while, reggae artists that appeal to the masses.

“It’s such a ratings-conscious thing that 1/10 of a rating point could cost somebody their job. It’s such a delicate balance of music that you rarely take big chances on any record, like maybe a rap record that blows off anybody over 25 because it’s too funky. Anything beyond the audience you’re targeting is not going to help you and may hurt you.”

KJLH’s core audience is composed of black listeners between the ages of 18 and 49, Winston said, according to research reports from Arbitron and Birch (companies that provide demographic ratings to the radio industry). While radio programmers generally study the results of call-out research, caller requests and record-buying patterns to determine what music to play, a lot of what you hear on a particular station is still based on pure gut instincts.

And a station like KJLH, which programs primarily within the black mainstream, may not even be targeted by labels releasing music that doesn’t fit that description. Winston complained that many reggae or blues labels don’t bother to provide KJLH with records by their artists, perhaps figuring that it makes little sense to service stations that won’t be inclined to play the records.

Grass admitted that he didn’t try to promote to black radio Nigerian musician Ebenezer Obey or the pre-”Graceland” albums Shanachie released by Ladysmith Black Mambazo. He cited the language difference and the length of the tracks, saying he preferred to focus promotional efforts on the “loose-formated” AOR stations he’s found receptive to reggae and African music in the past.

Alaska-born black rock singer/guitarist Jon Butcher has been told “from both sides of the color line” that he doesn’t fit radio formats.

Butcher has been compared to Jimi Hendrix, another black rock musician who never drew a sizable black following: “That had to do with the social climate of 1967, but this is 1987,” says Butcher, adding that he’s confident that “my audience will find me.”

Tailoring one’s music to appeal to black audiences is a concept that Kid Creole & the Coconuts haven’t quite mastered, noted the group member known as Coati Mundi.

“We’re not purposely trying to sabotage ourselves,” says the singer, “but it’s not in us to jump on any bandwagons. We listen to a song like (Whitney Houston’s) ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)’ and think, ‘Man, that’s silly. How is that a hit?’ But then maybe we’re just too stupid to have a hit.”

Mundi reasoned that his group’s racially mixed lineup, outlandish ‘40s clothing style and off-the-wall musical slant shouldn’t keep it from attracting black fans. “We look at a group like the Time and know that they were influenced by us. Prince and Luther Vandross come to our shows, and there are a lot of closet Coconuts fans out there in black radio. But they must feel that their jobs would be in jeopardy if they played our records.”

Mundi credits New York urban station WLIB and the cable channel Black Entertainment Television as being supportive of the group. “But we’ve survived by playing Europe,” he adds. “It hurts to be in New York and have people ask, ‘Are you still playing music?’ Hey, we’ve played Carnegie Hall. Now we’re ready to play the Apollo.”

Vernon Reid is a member of the rock group Living Color and founded an organization called the Black Rock Coalition, designed to promote “artistic freedom.” He felt that black audiences are more open to different forms of music than they’re given credit for, “but we have to be willing to make room for the artist who is different.

“Prince has been successful for 10 years. He’s not a new artist anymore. And Stevie Wonder has carved his niche in music history with albums like ‘Talking Book’ and ‘Innervisions’ if he never makes another record.

“But where is the new artistry going to come from?” he asked. “And how do you make sure that it stays connected to the black audience?”

To A&M; Records’ Rich Calloway, the answer lies in more black-on-black support.

“Asians and Latins pool their resources and work together--with no more resources to draw on than we have,” he says. “There’s a lot of great black music out there that is legitimate. It should get the exposure it deserves.”