When we consider all the things the record industry has done to well and truly shaft itself over recent years it’s easy to concentrate solely on those evil mega-corporations with their shark-like managers and rapacious appetite for profit. In fact, it’s a hobby for some of us. But let’s not forget the people who make it that way, the consumers. Stand up… everyone. Because there goes your freedom of choice…

I was thrilled when Richard Curtis’ sixties nostalgia-trip The Boat That Rocked came out. The oft-forgotten tale of those brave (and lunatic) souls who were creative enough to defy tradition and satisfy the nation’s demand for pop music by setting up stations like Radio Luxembourg and Radio Caroline. Sentimentality aside, these stations changed the face of British broadcasting. The BBC no longer held a monopoly, despite the pirates becoming the victims of the Marine Broadcasting Offences Act 1967 (although pirate radio in one form or another still baffles Ofcom to this day.)

There are a couple of interesting consequences of this. First, there was a boom in regional stations. From 47 national stations, to regional and local BBC, local commercial radio, community radio, university and college broadcasting, digital and Internet stations… well over 250 FM broadcasters in England alone. Faced with so much choice, ratings for each station went down as they’re dispersed across every genre and region.

Secondly, many of the most popular pirate radio personalities were offered jobs at the newly formed Radio 1 after 1967. Personalities such as Tony Blackburn and Johnnie Walker have been staples of BBC radio content ever since, despite their less than legal beginnings. But now these famous, some would say infamous, voices are beginning to retire or even pass on (John Peel, we salute you.) Where does that leave their listenership? Who do we have to take their places at the mic? And can anyone name the midday broadcaster on their local station (if you are the midday DJ, I can only apologise. Your mother is very proud of you.)

What we are lacking, thanks to the dispersal of radio ratings and reliance on the old guard of broadcasting, are any notable radio personalities. Chris Moyles may be the self-styled “saviour of Radio 1”, but why did it need saving in the first place? Because everyone was listening to Terry Wogan on Radio 2. There simply weren’t enough listeners who cared about any particular DJ and their choice of music to sustain Radio 1 as the leading popular music provider. And since Sir Terry’s departure Radio 2 appointed Chris Evans in his place, because he’s the closest thing to a veteran broadcaster they have for that generation. The number of potential ‘name’ replacements for Evans when he vacates the station must be a dwindling by the day.

The BBC has come up with a novel solution to this problem. Rather than hiring committed radio broadcasters from local or commercial radio to its national stations, they simply transfer their mega-buck earning TV personalities into radio DJs. Christmas Eve with David Tennant and Catherine Tate? Only in the form of Doctor Who, please. Because we all know it’s the producers who are getting to grips with the format and music for the show.

DJs have provided an essential role in the promotion and distribution of records, through force of personality and being completely immersed in the music scenes. It’s a heavy thought that Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ would never have been released without Kenny Everett’s finger ‘slipping’ on to the play button 14 times over a single weekend. Oops, I think you’ve just become legends. Coincidentally, very rich legends. DJs took chances, braved the wrath of producers and governments to break taboos and challenge tradition. And above all, they did it for love of the music.

We can’t blame the record companies for this state of affairs. They simply took advantage of the current arrangement of many local radio companies being swallowed by huge corporations. Rather than having to deal with lots of individual DJs they just ship their promos out to a company for it to be distributed amongst the homogenised playlists.

Some of our radio legends have found new homes and continue to nurture their loyal fanbases on Internet stations. The remarkable popularity of Planet Rock is testament to the changing taste of the British public. Yet despite big name DJs such as Rick Wakeman and Nicky Horne, along with a change of management, Planet Rock is still in dire financial straits and facing an uncertain future. Alongside the current controversy of American stations sacking their ‘personalities’ in favour of computerised automation, is there even a future for our humble record spinner? Or are they doomed to be consigned to historical rom-coms and village fete openings?

Until we re-establish the connection between DJ and listener and music, the future looks bleak for all concerned.