Perched near the pinnacle of a building in Rockefeller Center, Sirius Satellite Radio's luxe headquarters seem lofty enough to touch the sky. The sleek, hardwood-paneled space, with its glassed-in studios and an upper-level balcony for the C-suites, stands at the epicenter of New York's Media Gulch. It's a place fit for royalty, and this past November the satellite-radio company won itself a king, in the person of ex-Viacom president Mel Karmazin, whom Sirius crowned as its new chief executive.
For Karmazin, the coronation was quite an about-face. At Viacom, he had been one of satellite radio's foremost skeptics. But a falling-out with the lord of that media empire, Sumner Redstone, coupled with the lure of 30 million stock options and a $1.25 million annual salary, apparently eased Karmazin's doubts. Word of his ascension to Sirius's throne electrified the industry. Just one month earlier, Sirius had paid a king's ransom of $500 million over five years to secure the mouth of the self-proclaimed "king of all media" Howard Stern. Karmazin and Stern had built Viacom's Infinity Broadcasting into a radio powerhouse, and analysts hailed their alliance with Sirius as confirmation that satellite radio might actually hit the sweet spot on the public's dial. Weeks later, the testosterone was still flowing through Sirius's studios. "We're making news," crowed Patrick Reilly, the company's communications chief. "XM is buying ads."
XM would be XM Satellite Radio, Sirius's archrival, which is led by Hugh Panero, a battle-tested veteran of the cable-TV wars. From his headquarters in a gritty neighborhood in northeastern Washington, DC, Panero endured the headline-grabbing Stern signing, which curiously arrived during the very week that his own shock jocks, Opie and Anthony, began airing on XM. Then came the ballyhoo over Karmazin. "When we started out, all of the so-called experts said that no one was going to pay for satellite radio -- and one of the loudest of those voices belonged to Mel Karmazin," Panero noted wryly. "We're happy to provide him with this new entertainment platform to participate in, as well as gainful employment."
Panero can afford to be a little cocky. For the past three years, XM has ruled the digital-radio airwaves. It is closing in on 3.1 million subscribers, each of whom spends $9.99 a month to sample upward of 130 music, talk, news, sports, and weather channels. Sirius, with a similar smorgasbord of offerings, lags with roughly 1 million subscribers, who pay $12.95 a month. XM was the first to market with a boom-box receiver (the SKYFi); it was first with a wearable radio (the MyFi); and it's selling far more subscriptions through its partnerships with automakers. Sirius, named for the Dog Star, has mostly endured a marathon season of dog days since XM leaped ahead of it.
The face-off between XM and Sirius might well be unprecedented in modern business history. In most industries, the competitive landscape is populated by many rivals. But satellite radio is truly a rarity -- a duopoly of combatants slugging it out for potentially huge gains. Eight years ago, when the Federal Communications Commission awarded two licenses for satellite spectrum at a price tag of $90 million each to American Mobile Radio (now XM) and CD Radio (now Sirius), it created a perfect laboratory setting in which to observe raw, one-on-one competition.
The battle between XM and Sirius offers a classic case study in strategy and execution -- where the sky is, literally, the limit. They're playing a kind of high-risk chess, with billions of dollars at stake. In a series of bet-the-company moves, each organization took a different line of attack in developing its technology, forming alliances, managing innovation, and making deals. While the game is still in play, it's already yielding some valuable lessons: that first-mover advantage is bunk; that unabashed risk taking must be leavened with pragmatism; that while strategy matters, everything depends on execution.
And there's more to this story. Even as both upstarts began to take each other on, they were simultaneously attempting to build the first new digital-media network since the Internet. At the same time, they had to outflank the oligarchs of the earthbound radio industry, such as Infinity and Clear Channel Communications, which had grown fat on broadcasting's consolidation. All in all, radio's space cowboys claim just under 4% of a nationwide audience of 100 million households. For XM and Sirius, the fight for air supremacy has barely begun.