Bob Law, legendary WWRL newscaster, 'Night Talk' host: 'The state of Black radio right now is mediocre'

Now a lonely outpost on the AM dial, WWRL/1600 was once a true New York giant. From 1964 through the '80s, it commanded the local airwaves with a mix of R&B, gospel and news — a beacon to devoted listeners and to many other stations looking to climb aboard the booming "Black radio" bandwagon. Soul and R&B were indeed huge, and so were the DJs here — local superstars of so-called "Super Soul 16" including Jeffrey Troy, Enoch Gregory, Imhotep Gary Byrd, Bobby Jay and the "Soul Server" himself, Hank Spann.

They called themselves the "Temptations" of New York radio. So by that measure, I suppose you could call Bob Law the sixth Temptation.

This Westbury native, now 85, wrapped a 50-year career on radio earlier this year as host of a weekly talk show for WBAI/99.5FM on music, politics and Black history. But the bulk of that career — also far and away the most influential part — was spent at "The Big RL" starting in 1973. During the glory years there, Law was vice president of public affairs. In this role, he oversaw the station's news and information programs. But over a near-20 year run, he also hosted "Night Talk," a pioneering late night potpourri of national and local news, Civil Rights advocacy, and interviews. It also became radio's first Black-oriented national talk show after it was syndicated later in the run.

Law became known as the "Urban Preacher" — or just "Preacher" — who championed causes and (in at least one prominent instance), politicians, most notably Jesse Jackson, who launched his 1984 run for president on "Night Talk." 

Radio programs like "Night Talk," and for that matter activist hosts like Law, don't really exist on the radio anymore — all subsumed under the tidal wave of podcasts, social media and YouTube. Black radio of the sort pioneered WWRL is long gone too. (A few years ago, Law produced his own thoughtful YouTube documentary lamenting its demise. (You can watch it here.)

Law spoke recently with Newsday's Verne Gay about the decline and fall of this once vastly influential medium.

You've been saying for quite a while now that Black radio — or stations like WWRL — are pretty much extinct. What is the state of it right now?

The state of Black radio right now is mediocre. The radio personalities are not performers anymore, and don't even have personalities, or sound like they should be on the radio, especially when you compare them to the Frankie Crockers or Vy Higgensens or Hank Spanns or Bobby Jays. So there is a need for revival of Black radio and Black music radio in particular.

But how does radio — now controlled by giant companies which are themselves under financial pressure — even begin to bring back the "personality?"

I think they need to understand that these DJs weren't simply DJs but personalities in their own right, with their own followings. If you went to a show at the Apollo, the marquee would say who the performer was, but at the top of the marquee would be the bigger name — the disc jockey, like Jocko [Jocko Henderson, who died in 2000, produced a popular radio show in the '60s called 'Jocko's Rocket Ship Show.']

In your film, you and others directly blamed the influential "Harvard Report" of 1972 — commissioned by CBS Records to figure out how to break into the "Soul" segment of the market — for ultimately hurting Black radio. How so?

They both had a political as well as economic agenda — which was the demise of these [independent] Black music labels and in turn the Black stations that depended on them. There was a time when [soul] music was dominant, and the Black music industry was powerful and the Harvard report understood the role music plays socially, politically and economically. I'd also blame the [1996] Telecommunications act which dealt one of the most severe blows to Black radio because companies like Clear Channel could come in and buy huge numbers of stations, and homogenization followed.

You also said in your film that Black radio was once as important to the Black community as the church. What does its demise mean for Black New Yorkers?

Black New Yorkers have no voice without Black radio, whether it's music radio or talk radio — there is simply no voice.

WWRL was once that bridge to the community, but to a certain extent haven't podcasts and social media filled the void? Is there a downside to that?

Yes, you'd have to acknowledge that attention has gone there, but it's not filling the void at all. They're not offering a range of ideas and information that's important to the community. When I was doing "Night Talk," I just wasn't a talk-show host but a community leader. Black radio gave the community a presence it doesn't have any more.

The entire terrestrial radio industry is struggling, so is there any reason to believe local Black radio — or the sort that stations WLIB/1190 and WWRL once pioneered — can make a comeback?

Jesse [Jackson] is right — we've got to keep hope alive. But, again, the decision-makers are where the problem is. They still don't have a vision for the music or the community. They're just looking for a cash cow. They're not visionaries and that's what's missing right now.