Quotes About Radio

'Fresh Air' I listen to, like, every day.

People are bringing a lot more of that funk element into their music, you know, with Bruno Mars and Mark Ronson - that's one that you never thought you would hear something like that on the radio again 'cause it just sounds so much like the Back Bay and what they were doing with music back then.

Apartman u kojem je Devereux Warren spokojno slabio i gasnuo bio je jednako velik kao i onaj senora Parda y Cuidad Reala - u ovom je hotelu bilo mnogo soba u kojima imu?ne ruine, bjegunci pred pravdom, pretendenti na prijestolju razvlaštenih državica, žive na derivatima opijuma ili barbitola, vje?no slušaju?i neizbježan radio, surove napjeve starih grijeha. Ovaj kutak Europe ne privla?i toliko ljude, koliko ih prihva?a bez neugodnih pitanja.

The Ultimate Rule ought to be: 'If it sounds GOOD to you, it's bitchin'; if it sounds BAD to YOU, it's shitty. The more your musical experience, the easier it is to define for yourself what you like and what you don't like. American radio listeners, raised on a diet of _____ (fill in the blank), have experienced a musical universe so small they cannot begin to know what they like.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would become a constant topic for national television and radio shows - never mind mentioned by some of the country's most respected journalists.

When my generation, those early days of television - I know I've been thinking about this lately - my two flashes of me as a little boy. One, I'm standing in front of the radio freaking out that Nat King Cole's singing 'Lady of Spain', just this stuff coming out of the radio, and Guy Williams singing 'Wild Horses' coming out of the radio.

I love doing interviews but yeah, I hope to have a long career like Wendy Williams, like Angie Martinez has or just a lot of people in radio that I look up to. Howard Stern has had a really long career.

If they keep playing us on country radio and we get to keep doing cool stuff like playing with Willie Nelson, that's great.

Steve Earle had a mainstream career. Dwight Yoakam had a mainstream career. Willie Nelson did. But they always made good music, they always stuck to who they were. They weren't relying on radio like a lot of people are in Nashville.

You have to be tough-skinned and willing to accept criticism, and at the same time, just try to do music that you like and you are proud of and not just whatever you think it's going to take to get you on the radio.

The Sixties were different in an isolated place. We got two television channels if the wind was blowing in the right direction. The radio stations went off at sundown. Then you picked up Chicago and heard the teenage music you really yearned for.

When you get something like MTV, it's like regular television. You get it, and at first it's novel and brand new and then you watch every channel, every show. And then you become a little more selective and more selective, until ultimately... you wind up with a radio.

In the middle of 'Bleed Red' coming out, a huge disproportionate majority of people in radio came to us and asked if they could have 'Cost of Livin' as a single. There was even talk behind closed doors about pulling 'Bleed Red' because they had caught wind and heard 'Cost of Livin'.' We went with that.

When I was working for Radio 1 in Ibiza I stayed in a horrible place with a tiny window and really noisy air conditioning - the last thing you need in Ibiza, where you're often a little bit the worse for wear at the end of the night.

I had a little radio next to the bed and I'd just listen to the top 10 - I mean, it was crap but I was young - and I would get up in the dark with the moon coming in through the window and I would just dance in my pajamas in the dark to the top 10. I didn't have a CD player... so it was kind of all I had, you know?

Gone are the days when you'd have to tune in to a mad illegal radio station late at night to be able to hear the rapper of your choice. That's all changed now. That's all gone out of the window. And I feel like I represent that change. I represent the era of iPods and Shuffle and things like that.

When I first heard my song 'Georgia Peaches' on the radio, I opened up the car windows and started screaming to the other people on the road, 'My song's on the radio!' Of course, I wasn't driving.

The early influences, in many ways, were in Baltimore. I was passing open windows where there might be a radio playing something funky. In the summertime, sometimes there'd be a man sitting on a step, playing an acoustic guitar, playing some kind of folk blues. The seed had been planted.

The right wing has monopolized the AM radio airwaves.

When I came out of service, the first couple of releases didn't really hit so I just took a little hiatus and sat down to see what was happening. I just glued my ears to the radio and then I started writing - the first hit record that came out was 'Everybody Loves a Winner.'

Every week, as an 11-year-old kid, I would tune in to what was really the first American Idol-type program, a radio show called 'Major Bowes' Amateur Hour.' The winning group on the evening of September 8, 1935, was called the Hoboken Four, and their spokesman was Frank Sinatra, then aged 19.

When I was 15, I was working for a radio band in Shreveport. Cliff Bruner, the hottest Texas fiddler of them all, was on the same package shows, playing for Jimmie Davis.

I had the little Radio Shack crystal radio, and then my aunt Judy bought me a shortwave radio. It was amazing to me: like on these really clear nights - I lived in Ohio - I could get Texas or Florida. You felt like the world was a smaller place.

I can tell when one of my songs is played on the radio because everybody just starts calling and texting me. It gets overwhelming because if you don't answer the right ones, they think you hate them, or you're ignoring them and are not friends anymore. It's all kind of crazy.