Broadcast Stardust

“Though I dream in vain, in my heart you will remain...”

-- Hoagy Carmichael, “Stardust” (1928)  

It’s no secret that the journalistic and information presenting landscape is changing, but the loss of CBS Radio News feels personal. I think it’s also safe to say most people don’t listen to the radio like I do. Especially AM radio.

Next week, the familiar top-of-the-hour 5-minute newscast goes away. CBS blames mounting financial pressures and low revenue for pulling the plug. But the decision also reflects changing audience habits, as listeners abandon terrestrial radio in favor of digital platforms, social media, and podcasts.

The closure affects some 700 affiliates including KMAN in Manhattan and involves the elimination of the entire CBS Radio network team.

In my entry-level radio job back when lapels were wide and news choices were narrow, I balanced rigid playlists and quarter-hour ratings maintenance against the relentless demands of commercial revenue. In that fast-moving environment, the lone constant was the top-of-the-hour network newscast, a brief moment when the station paused its chase for listeners and sales long enough to reconnect with world goings-on.

Led by the familiar sounder, telling me subconsciously it’s the top of the hour:

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It’s also indicative of a “broadcasting” industry evolution, a broader corporate shift toward digital-first news delivery, including declining AM radio audiences and continued media consolidation.

I use quotation marks around the word “broadcasting,” since it is fading from public nomenclature and esteem. Delivering news literally on the air through local transmitters and antennas to be received in something called a “radio” was once the norm. Digital dissemination is everybody walking around with tiny radios and TVs in their pockets, demanding their own customized version of reality on command, preferably in less than 30 seconds.

Journalism giants Murrow, Cronkite, and Rather all started on radio and migrated to TV. I’m not in their league, but before branching out into politics and advocacy, so did I, but radio still makes my heart flutter.

For generations, the voices of CBS Radio News were woven into the rhythm of daily life, from dashboard speakers during morning commutes, crackling kitchen radios over bacon and eggs, and bedside clocks before dawn. I had two personal favorites. Before he died last fall, CBS Radio News White House correspondent Mark Knoller covered every president since Bush the Elder. Cami McCormick was CBS Radio’s go-to reporter for most of the 2000s. When Iraq was at its worst in 2006, she was one of the few journalists on the ground, still covering the story.

The loss of CBS Radio News represents more than the end of a news media division. It feels like the fading of a familiar civic institution that connected communities. Worse, it feels like another half-inch of sea level rise in the climate change of journalism.

As CBS Radio News disappears, we’re left confronting not only the incessant march of technology, but also the erosion of the deep trust earned from a style of journalism built on consistency, familiarity, and human connection.

I grew up in broadcasting, back when credibility and consistency were considered valuable commodities, and it became the foundation of a successful career. But technology and culture rarely evolve with sentimentality. What once felt permanent — trusted voices, top-of-the-hour network newscasts, and a common understanding of facts, has been replaced by a media ecosystem driven more by speed, outrage, and algorithms.

Certainty now disappears almost as quickly as attention spans.

Mike Matson’s column appears every other weekend in The Mercury, and he hosts ‘Within Reason,’ Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays at 9 a.m. on NewsRadio KMAN.