Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Related Stories ...

National Features >

  • Village Voice

    The Great Walls of Chinatown

    With the exception of the electric rice cookers, this Bowery tenement could have come straight from the Nineteenth Century.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Houston Press

    Getting Off

    DUI attorney Tyler Flood wins 80 percent of his trials--even if his clients were 100 percent drunk.

    By Mike Giglio

  • Miami New Times

    Park or Die Tryin'

    From the homeless parking mafia to the meter fairy, finding a spot in Miami has taken a turn toward the surreal.

    By Gus Garcia-Roberts

  • City Pages

    The Baddest Men on the Planet

    Straight from the Sam's Club tire shop, Brett Rogers prepares to meet Fedor Emelianenko in mortal combat.

    By Bradley Campbell

One Hot Throwdown

Corporate radio tramples the turf of hip-hop king KPRS.

Share

  • rss

By David Martin

Published on January 26, 2006

KPRS 103.3 DJ Sean Tyler greets employees at the midtown Cell-U-All Wireless with chest-high handshakes and brief embraces. The afternoon-drive host at Hot 103.3 Jamz wears a New York Mets cap and a leather jacket. He swigs a white-chocolate mocha he picked up on the way to the store. "I hate coffee," he says, "but Starbucks is like crack."

Upon his arrival, Tyler receives a one-page script that outlines the day's special on a flip phone. Shortly after 2 p.m., it's his cue to speak. Using a wireless microphone that sends a signal to the Hot 103 Jamz van parked at the drugstore across the street, Tyler encourages listeners to grab a $39.99-a-month Motorola package. "No credit checks," Tyler appeals to the financially downtrodden.

Cell-U-All does a brisk business for the two hours that Tyler is present. His cue arrives every 30 minutes, leaving plenty of downtime. Between plugs, he rides Theodore Terry, a KPRS promotions assistant. Tyler's lesson today: the proper pronunciation of the word library. "There's only blueberries and strawberries," Tyler says. "No liberries."

Tyler is in his midthirties, and his musical taste has room for Burt Bacharach and Def Leppard. He doesn't like a lot of the material Hot 103 Jamz plays. He notes, incredulously, the trend of songs about being in love with a stripper. Many of today's hit makers, Tyler says, lack the staying power of a previous generation of artists. "I grew up in an era when Earth, Wind and Fire sold 75 million albums," he says.

The production assistant suggests that hip-hop began to suck only recently. "Don't try to break it down," Tyler counters. "Shit is crappy."

As Tyler traces the decline of hip-hop, pausing to advertise unbeatable deals on cell phones, Tony G, another 103.3 jock, takes a position at a wing shop across town. KPRS will conduct four live remotes on this day. The station's vehicle fleet includes two vans and a Hummer, all painted black with pink trim. One day last summer, KPRS personalities broadcast live from five locations in the same hour.

KPRS prides itself on its visibility, be it a live remote for an advertiser or a "street hit," such as a holiday turkey handout in a Wal-Mart parking lot. Countering the old saw that radio personalities are too beastly for television, most Hot 103 Jamz DJs are, well, hot. And working at 103.3 is in some ways like running for office, says KPRS program director Myron Fears. "When you're out," Fears says, "you've got to be able to shake hands and kiss babies."

That endless public campaign has fared well for KPRS. When founder Skip Carter began broadcasting on Kansas City's east side in 1950, KPRS became the first black-owned station west of the Mississippi. His grandson, Michael, took over in 1987 and, thanks in part to the mainstreaming of hip-hop, the younger Carter led KPRS from 13th place in the ratings to No. 1.

KPRS rose at a time of intense consolidation in the radio industry. Kansas City's 20 most popular stations will soon be owned by just five companies. Although corporate radio operates with less overhead and sells ad time across multiple stations, Michael Carter sees his local ownership as a benefit. "I don't have to call Cleveland to make a decision," he says. "I can make a decision today."

KPRS has also profited from the lack of a direct competitor. But in November, corporate-owned KCHZ 95.7 relaunched as "the Vibe," with a playlist that closely resembles that of KPRS. Both stations rotate current hits from Mariah Carey, Chris Brown, Three 6 Mafia and Young Jeezy. KCHZ, which is owned by radio giant Cumulus Media, hardly took a risk switching to a format of predominantly black artists. Hip-hop appeals to a large, diverse audience, one that KPRS virtually had to itself. "I'm quite surprised no one did it sooner," KPRS DJ Julee Jonez says.

Even before corporate radio's direct assault, things were looking down for KPRS. Last summer, the station slipped to No. 3 in the ratings.

Hot 103 Jamz has recovered, returning to No. 1 in ratings released this week. But that momentary dip last summer was enough to help force changes at KPRS. In December, Carter broke up the homegrown morning team of Tyler and Jonez and replaced them with comedian Steve Harvey's syndicated show. Picking up a show with no Kansas City connection is a significant move for a station that prides itself on local content.

Still, it won't be easy for Cumulus to steal the audience and ad dollars from KPRS. "What Cumulus is going to have to do is knock the king of the hill off," says former KPRS jock Sonny André, who left the station for Detroit in 2000. "It's a pretty slippery slope, man."

Hot and jammin' on the air, the KPRS studio is bland and suburban in real life.

Carter Broadcast Group, which owns KPRS and its sister AM station, gospel-playing KPRT 1590, occupies a two-story building at the end of a cul-de-sac off Longview Road in south Kansas City. The building shares the street with two-story apartment houses that were probably stylish in the 1970s.

Upstairs in his spacious office on a recent afternoon, Carter opens mail using a letter opener topped with a golf ball. Carter likes to golf. A scorecard from Firestone Country Club in Akron, Ohio, rests on his desk. Born in 1958, he could pass for someone still in his thirties. He's 6 feet 2 inches tall, wears a neatly trimmed mustache and has a tendency to end his sentences with the phrase per se. Describing the habits of the African-American consumer, for example, he says, "We don't have time to pick up the paper, per se. We don't have time to watch television, per se. But we do turn on our radio station, and we do listen."

1   2   3   4   5   Next Page »