I mean, come on!
Does anyone with a shred of intelligence listen to her? I may be ruffling some feathers here (hopefully – I do love controversy!), but I can’t imagine anyone with any kind of intelligent thoughts in their head turning on Delilah in the evenings and thinking, “Man, there’s no better way to end my day than with lame, sappy, pathetic, smarmy love stories, partnered with history’s crappiest soft rock! And the deep profundity of the insights offered by the radio callers is inspiration in its purest form. Wisdom and romantic perception, thy name is is ‘Delilah.'”
If you had the constitution to make it through that entire snippet without offering up your lunch to the porcelain god, I salute you.
I have the same overriding gripe about the schlock on her show that I do about the horrific indie/emo music that’s polluting our airwaves: if you have to contort and manipulate your voice in an effort to emote, then what you have to say/sing is worthless. If your message itself isn’t compelling or powerful enough to cause a genuine emotional reaction, it’s criminal to try and force that emotional reaction by enfusing your own voice with faked theatrics.
Despite the fact that some of my best friends listen to Delilah religously (on Sundays I can’t get Kevin Leggat to shut up about how “awesome” the previous night’s Delilah segment was), I defy anyone to convince me how Delilah’s show is in anyway defensible.
(If you’re not familiar with the show, consider yourself lucky. If you’re curious as to why the huge stink about a radio show, tune into COSY 106.5 any week night to find out. Don’t get me wrong – I listen to COSY because I loves me some Phil Collins, Hall & Oates, Lionel Richie, and Christopher Cross. But when Delilah comes on, I stop my car wherever I’m at, get out, throw my keys into the night sky, and walk the rest of the way. Kevin will usually drive my car home for me at that point because he’s always jonesing for a chance to listen to Delilah.)