Even though I’ve heard his voice on the air since I was a child, KEXP DJ Kevin Cole has done almost too good a job at championing artists and public radio, because I knew nothing about his own legacy before watching his documentary. RADIOHEART: The Drive & Times of Kevin Cole takes you on his journey from an underqualified disco DJ in 1970s Minneapolis to a beloved fixture of the Seattle music scene, with several surprises along the way, like run-ins with then-up-and-coming musician Prince and a stint at the then-little-known online bookseller—record scratch—Amazon, where he helped shape digital streaming as we know it. My only critique of the film was that I was left with so many questions about Cole’s relationship with streaming and with Amazon, which felt at odds with his legacy in radio, physical media, and independent music.
So, I decided to ask him about it myself. Early on in our interview, I was skeptical about Cole’s unwillingness to say anything negative about Amazon, streaming, or rapidly changing technology. That is, until I realized that Cole is unwilling to say anything negative, period. The man exudes positivity with the sole mission of healing the world with music, whether that be on a crowded dance floor, radio airwaves, or the World Wide Web. In a time where it feels like the only options are to be a blissfully ignorant consumer or an actively hostile Luddite (I’d categorize myself as the latter), it’s refreshing to hear from a man unwilling to shake his fiercely optimistic vision of connection through technology.
When were you first approached about making the documentary?
I was approached in the spring of 2024 by a friend of mine, Peter Hilgendorf, the co-director of the film, about making a short documentary to show at my retirement party. July 26, 2024, was my last day on the air full-time, hosting Drive Time, which I’d been doing for 20 years. When we showed the complete 18-minute video at the event, ahandful of filmmakers and music people saw it and encouraged Pete to expand it. From there, it evolved until there was enough confidence to expand the film into a full-form documentary.
How involved were you in the making of the film?
It was pretty interesting because the project kept evolving; I saw bits and pieces here and there. I also made suggestions to Pete and Andrew [Franks], like interviewing Kristin Hersh from Throwing Muses, but it is really their movie. I didn’t see the full edited version until the premiere in Minneapolis, which was amazing and surreal. My family and friends were there. I was nervous and excited. The film contains moments of vulnerability that I hope people will, at best, be inspired by.
Did you ever anticipate that someone would make a movie about your life?
One hundred percent no, not at all. For me, the movie is about loving music and the power of music to make our individual lives better and richer. We’ve all felt the power of music. It can provide comfort and solace, or when we need to be uplifted, inspired, or motivated, it can provide that energy. It can help us dance, move, and shift energy, which makes us feel better. The power of music also helps us understand ourselves better, and when we better understand ourselves, we can better understand others. It’s like magic.
I think people will be surprised to learn that you worked at Amazon from 1998 to 2003 and were an early proponent of streaming and digital downloads, which feel antithetical to independent radio and physical media. What do you think about the current state of streaming?
That’s a good question, and a really big one. Radio, as a technology or as a platform, has really evolved, and it’s needed to. Being flexible is critical for survival. There was a huge shift in the late ’90s and early 2000s to digital, and we would hear from media consultants all the time that radio was dead. The key is that if you’re unable to adapt to new technologies or how people want to experience music, then you are dead. We need to be able to meet people where they are, or anticipate where they’re going to be, and be on the front end of that. Technology is not the enemy; it’s a tool. For KEXP, I feel like we’ve used streaming in a great way. We have been part of showing the world that human curation is really what matters.
I think part of KEXP’s success came from that experimental mindset in terms of music distribution and platforms. Whether streaming, downloading, podcasts, or videos, we leaned into it. In fact, at some point after we launched videos, we started noticing that more people were watching our videos than listening to the station, which set off a kind of existential introspective examination. We shifted our mindset and our leadership structure and acknowledged that we are a nonprofit arts organization, not just a radio station. We now have approximately over 350,000 streaming listeners outside of our broadcast area, which means that many people a month are hearing when we play Pacific Northwest bands like Dark Chisme, Mt Fog, Chinese American Bear, TV Star, Terror/Cactus, it’s connecting on a global level. So streaming, in some ways, I don’t want to say it saved KEXP, but it really was a catalyst for being able to accelerate our mission and have more impact in the world.
In terms of streaming platforms like Spotify, I think of Patti Smith’s song “People Have the Power.” Power and decision-making, as it relates to streaming music or commerce, are very significant. If an artist goes on tour with 500 copies of a record to sell directly to fans, they could conceivably make about $10,000. To make $10,000 from streaming would take about 300 million streams. It’s not equitable. I think it’s up to individuals to choose how they want to support independent artists. If you can, buy records directly from artists on tour, or from their websites, or local independent record stores, or Bandcamp. Then, you’ll be using your dollars in a way that supports artists and continues to support a vibrant music ecosystem.
What was your original vision for streaming at Amazon?
I joined Amazon in early 1998 and was part of a team that built the music site. My interest was in streaming. At that point in time, our goal was to help people discover music by broadening access to artists. We had multiple channels of audio, sort of like online radio stations, to help people discover great music. It wasn’t even about buying and selling music, necessarily. The feeling was, if we can help people discover their next new favorite artist, hopefully they’ll buy from us. During the first year, our two best sellers were Sounds of North American Frogs and Buena Vista Social Club. Then, I got into the promotional downloads. We set up a platform for independent artists to share free promotional downloads of their music.
Amazon was a new environment for me. It was challenging, but I had a great experience. About a year into working at Amazon, I started doing a Sunday show at KCMU (now KEXP). I missed that direct connection with listeners through radio that I didn’t get online, which is what fueled the decision to then go to KCMU/KEXP full-time.
I’m sensing that your vision for streaming was pretty different from the current state of streaming platforms.
Yeah, that is more or less correct. Algorithms are incredibly powerful at recognizing patterns, and they can predict what we’re going to like, based on what we’ve already liked or listened to. But taste and love for music isn’t about pattern recognition. It’s about risk. It’s about intuition. Sometimes it’s about irrational love. The role of the DJ isn’t to be a mirror like an algorithm is. The role of a DJ is to widen the circle, not shrink it. Human curation and passion for music shape the experience differently than what an algorithm or a streaming platform can do. As long as humans are creating music, there’s going to be a need for humans to curate it.
Have you seen the video of that French duo Angine de Poitrine? They became viral because of the KEXP session. That would not have popped into people’s algorithms. It’s interesting, challenging music. It’s almost like anti-AI. The fact that they have blown up is a good indicator that people don’t want to simply consume; they want to connect, and connection happens through human curation. The way AI and streaming have changed music, you know, making songs shorter and trying to get the hook in in the first five seconds, is not going to sustain itself. People want real experiences and real connections.
Considering Amazon’s evil presence in our city, how do you feel about having your name associated with them?
I left Amazon in 2003, and it’s a radically different place now. When I was there, it really was all about expanding access to music. I’m proud of the work I did. I made lifelong friendships, and really, it’s hard to describe now, but the whole focus at that time was experimenting with digital music and distribution and helping people find music that they would love, which really spoke to what I was about.
Did you work directly with Jeff Bezos at Amazon?
No. I was in a couple of meetings with him, but wasn’t working directly with him.
Do you currently have any connections to Amazon in any way?
No, outside of some friends I made while I was there. You know, it’s so hard to describe, but the world was different. It was all about trying to use new tools, new technology, as a means to provide access to music. That was the drive, and that was what inspired me.
Is there anything that didn’t make it into the documentary that you wish had?
It’s impossible to encapsulate somebody’s 50-year career in 83 minutes, but Peter, Andrew, and Rebecca did a fantastic job. There are certain things, like running, [that] are kind of a big part of my life, and that keeps me healthy. And you know, some clips of me running or ski jumping, when I was a ski jumper, but it would have to be another movie.
RADIOHEART: The Drive & Times of Kevin Cole screens at SIFF May 12, 15, and 17 at SIFF Cinema Uptown
