The translation of your text is: "How radio was killed in Serbia."
With the arrival of television, they said, "radio is finished." With the arrival of the internet, they said, "television is finished." Both times, they were wrong.

Television has today become a "crossover" medium that operates through public frequencies, cable, and the internet and portals.
Radio is resilient and holds its ground, especially if you are a driver and spend a lot of time in your car.
I am one of those for whom "deaf" driving is not an option.
But what can be heard on public frequencies in Belgrade? Or Serbia?
In the past, there were small and independent, highly listened-to local radio stations throughout Serbia.
While Radio Belgrade 1 has a basic informational program that is (let's say) "decent," and Radio Belgrade 2 has a very good cultural-documentary program, on other radio stations, there is hardly any relevance, just a few minutes of news that have no connection to real life in Serbia.
It’s as if they're read by the same voice from the same center, usually a cheerful, pleasant female voice, without a single worry in this world.
If she isn’t worried, why should you be?
And then there’s the specificity known as Studio B – it could also be called Radio Sputnik or Radio KGB, whichever you prefer, given the amount of Sputnik news and programs on it, as well as its editorial policy, which is anti-Western and pro-Russian to the core.
Recently, on that station, they "killed" Radio Free Europe at 2 PM, and listeners could, for a time, listen to Đuka Bizona instead of Omer Karabeg. (I believe this is the same "Ćacilend" psychology of sticking a finger in the eye, just in radio format.)
It’s incredible that there isn’t a single station that has coverage or live reports from the scene, so people (in their cars, for example) can listen to events from this city during these seven-eight months of protests, at least to know where to go, not go, or avoid.
Not only is there a lack of news and event coverage, but there are also no talk shows where quality guests and ideas can be heard.
All private radio stations are owned by people whose goal is clearly just to zombify the nation with contemporary and mostly poor music, and certainly not to engage listeners in any intellectual gymnastics.
There are no news, no discussions, no reporter inputs, no editors (like Đoko Veštica used to be, for example), and no music editors considering the quality of the music (with exceptions).
The "murder" of radio, according to informed people in that field, began with the arrival of the SNS party to power in 2012, when over time all private radio stations received "indecent" offers for purchase that were far above market value.
After that, their informational blocks would be shut down, editors changed or eliminated, and well-known hosts dismissed. The new owners deliberately reduced them to a free MP3 format with the occasional advertisement in between. Many former radio people have discovered the power of podcasts and have transferred the format of a good radio conversation to the internet, leading to a flourishing podcast platform in Serbia.
But essentially, a podcast is a radio format – two people sit in a studio, behind a microphone, and talk.
I personally would prefer to listen to people of that format, such as Galeb, Brakus, Kesić, etc., on real radio, over the frequencies.
That is their home, that is the dimension, and it is also a confirmation of quality because only the highest quality and best should go on the radio (anyone can create a podcast – from home).
As for how it came to be that "Ćaci" killed the radio format, and why we allowed it, that is for us to ponder. Honestly, I believe that for the social changes that citizens strive for, a good radio station, with quality news, reporters on the streets, and good guests, would be of great value.
What kind of nation is it that doesn’t have at least one independent, free, and quality radio as a de facto public service, like Radio B92 used to be?
Think about that.
Personal opinion of Igor Ranković, citizen and artist, published in the daily newspaper Danas.