The death of the VJ?

Let’s be honest. Who cares about the VJ now? The days we’d sit in front of our televisions, plotting how we’d impress Mike Kasem with our creative requests — they’re gone. Instead, today, we’ve got Luis Manzano and that annoying guy with braces from MYX; Kat Alano, her recurring British accent, and, unfortunately, Sib Sibulo.

I mean, there was once a time people looked up to their VJs — these sound savants who always kept us in the loop. They were our primary source of music news — our pre-web hypem.com’s. Video jocks were the epitome of awesome, doing a job that was the epitome of awesome.

And today, Sib Sibulo.

What happened? For this, we take a look back.

The rise of the VJ

In 1981, Music Television debuted, modeled after the format of top 40 radio. VJs were hired to play the roles disc jockeys played on the tuner — i.e., fill the gaps between video clips, keep things lively, and tell people just what they were watching.

In 1991, MTV Asia debuted with the VJ thing down-pat. Shows like Most Wanted, MTV Fresh, and Hanging Out made celebrities out of VJs Sonia Couling, Nadia Hutagalung, Sara Sechan, and Jamie Aditya (you probably still know their names). Of course, there were also Donita Rose, G Toengi, Regine Tolentino, and Francis Magalona — Filipinos VJs we grew to be so proud of.

For the whole generation of kids who had access to the channel at the time, being a VJ was about the coolest job to have — all one needed to do was be capable of random banter while dispensing tiny trivia (“Did you know Britney Spears is still a virgin?”). So, there was no shortage of people who wanted the two-letter title. In 2001, when MTV Philippines was born (on Studio 23, occupying the daytime hours), all it took to find kids to be the life of the new music network was this: The VJ Hunt.

And that was the start of death of the VJ.

The fall of the VJ

The pre-”Idol” talent search ran twice a year, with the hopes of keeping MTV pumped with nothing but new blood. When it started, it did just that. Shannen Torres, Jamie Wilson, KC Montero and Belinda Panelo were the life of MTV. Shows like Para Bos, MTV Diyes, and Magalona’s Life’s a Beach, and MTV Talk — those were the days.

But since then, it’s been downhill. Magalona wrote in a blog post last year, “(VJing) is not about you-speaka-da-english well, it’s not about being handsome or beautiful. It’s not about fashion, and it’s definitely not about showbiz or being an ‘artista’.” However, the last four VJ Hunts have proven that it is just about that. Past and present additions have proven that they are more faces more than they are personalities, and each of them, a nail on the VJ’s coffin.

Add to that the current ubiquity of the term. After MTV, Studio 23 hired their own VJs, and text channels, home shopping networks — even Christian sects — followed suit. At a time anyone can become a video jock, no video jock is special. So, today, a VJ is nothing but a guy or girl who wastes your time in between actual content — or a simple job that gets a wannabe artista some exposure.

A global trend

But, admittedly, local channels aren’t the only ones to blame. The VJ profession is facing obsolescence all around the world. In the US, MTV plays an average of three hours of music videos per day — down from eight hours in the year 2000. Its sister channel, VH1, has gone the reality TV route. MTV2, another sister channel, used to play only music videos but has now been forced to broadcast specials and non-music shows, as well.

This is because no one needs music video channels anymore. Why watch TV when you can get your favorite video clips on YouTube? Why wait for music news programs when you can surf the blogs? By the time a VJ is able to utter the latest on Britney Spears, for example, his viewers probably already know what it is, thanks to Perez Hilton. So without video clips to jabber on about, and without real trivia to dispense, what then, is the VJ for now? Other than covering corporate events, college parties, and weddings?

The truth: Pretty much nothing.

Conclusion

In sum, the video jock is obsolete. The barrage of wannabe VJs has turned the profession from the epitome of coolness to a mere entry-level artista position. TV networks’ preference for face value over personality has taken its toll. However, the final nail on the VJ’s coffin is the onslaught of new media. In an era when communication is no longer passive, audiences don’t need jocks to usher them around. So, until the pop culture cycle turns again, it is probably time to keep the VJs in the shed. For now, the video jock is dead.

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