The First Exit Rule: Why Great Radio Knows When to Stop Talking

From Disc Jockey to Personality: The First Exit Rule and the Lost Art of Coaching

Growing from a disc jockey into a true personality-driven radio host is not accidental. It is an intentional act.

You have to have someone in your corner who is willing to push you, challenge you, and make you uncomfortable in the right ways. For me, that person was Sam Weaver.

 Sam was my program director and mentor in Greensboro, NC, Kansas City, MO, and Dallas, TX. In 1990, Sam put me in morning drive in Greensboro. I was working with Jasmine James at the time—a multi-talented college student who was my on-air partner (RIP).—and that period changed everything for me.

Sam drilled into me the discipline of saying less to say more. Less is more. And it is.

One of the most important tools he taught me was something he called The First Exit Rule.

It means: Stop talking beyond the punchline.
Get off the exit ramp at the high point of the conversation.

Most people miss that exit. They keep talking. They explain the joke. They stretch the moment until it dies.

When I got to Dallas—where I really learned how to do personality radio—something unusual started happening. Listeners would call the station and say, “Hey man, y’all don’t talk long enough.”

What???

Usually, listeners complain that hosts talk too much. But what they were really saying was this: You leave us wanting more.

That was the First Exit Rule in action.

We learned how to extend multiple breaks throughout the show without ever overstaying our welcome. We didn’t stretch content by talking longer—we stretched it by giving listeners just enough laughter, just enough insight, just enough personality between records to keep them wanting more.

That technique makes shows sound more exciting. More alive. More professional.

What you hear today—people talking past the point, rambling, filling space—that’s not creativity. That’s a lack of teaching.

Here’s the truth nobody likes to say out loud:
You do not get better without someone listening to you.

If nobody in your station is working with the talent, and if you’re not actively seeking help, how exactly do you think growth happens?

I listen to the radio now and think, Wow—nobody is working with these people anymore.

That’s why mediocrity is being showcased as greatness.

So if you want to be great on the air:

1. Seek an outside ear to critique you honestly.

2. Don’t be afraid to listen to your aircheck—and critique it harshly.

3. Give yourself an honest assessment of where you actually are.

4. Identify who you admire as a personality and why. Borrow principles, not personalities.

5. Study great broadcasters. I used to tape people I respected and break down what they did. Somebody taught them—and you can learn through osmosis.

6. Practice. Practice. Practice. In college, while people were on the yard chilling, I was at the radio station. Everybody practices—except disc jockeys.

7. Seek mentors. I don’t see people doing that anymore. Too many think they don’t need coaching.

8. Decide if you want to be an amateur or a professional. That decision is personal—and unavoidable.

9. Know your ambition. Why are you on the air in the first place? Do you really know your purpose?

Greatness on the air is not accidental. It’s intentional. It’s coached. It’s practiced. And it requires humility.

 Radio people stopped teaching people how to grow and started rewarding people for simply showing up. That’s how mediocrity got mislabeled as excellence.

Personality radio is a craft. And crafts only improve when someone is willing to tell you the truth—and when you’re brave enough to hear it. That's what I do. I coach talent.