In celebration of Wogan

He really confused one of my old overseas radio consultants.

How on earth did this eccentric, quietly mumbling man attract an audience of millions?  No teasing.  Little ‘sense of the day’.  No callers.  No stunts.  No giggling sidekick.  Not slick. No crazy competitions.  No showbiz.  Few weather forecasts.  Incestuous talk about his radio team.  Interminable ramblings about the mundane.

But, like most great breakfast shows, he broke some of the rules and won.  The phrase ‘radio legend’ was made for Terry Wogan. 

Despite his audience of millions, Terry enjoyed true intimacy with the listener.  Every listener felt he knew them  - and that he understood them.  From the shawled-pensioner in an icy semi to the savvy student from a magnolia flat; each listener heard a different show in their own head.  Although he likely earned a touch more than either of them, they felt this seemingly self-effacing man was still ‘one of us’. Like Blackburn, this man grew not to take himself too seriously, with some success.

The Wogan vocabulary was his weapon.  With enviable skill, he carved each sentence; turning a mundane anecdote from a black and white photo to a colour film with a beautiful array of words, delivered with vocal warmth through a chocolate voice.  

Tales founded on fact  would be emebellished with a Wogan flight of fancy.  A few words on from a 'listener' on Basildon Bond turned to gold in the hands of the master.

His artful pauses too.  Terry has possibly made as much money in his career from saying nothing as saying something.

View image | gettyimages.com

A little like Bernie Taupin, his rich career began with a chance newspaper recruitment ad.  Charming the interviewers presumably, he was signed up to RTE.  As the early recordings of Moyles suggest too, distinctive  broadcasters do not begin their careers with their trademark styles; but you can hear just a hint of the endearing Wogan to come on this early clip from the Emerald Isle, courtesy of the ever-helpful Andy Walmsley.

When work began to dry up in Ireland in 1966, he typed a quick missive on the Remington to the BBC.  Auntie responded with the offer of a few programmes ‘down the line’ for the Light Programme, before a fledgling Radio 1  beckoned.  In the days when programmes had titles, he hosted the wonderful ‘Late Night Extra’, a programme recalled fondly by a whole generation.  After some relief presentation, afternoons became his home, simulcast on Radio 1 and 2.

Terry ascended the Radio 2 breakfast throne in the Decimal days of 1972, entertaining the Nation with his ramblings, interrupted only by JAM jingles and pan-pipe music.

He signed off from Radio 2 in 1984 to dedicate more time to his TV career, wearing those brown suits we all wore back then.  Whilst he did TV possibly as well as most radio folk, he was still at his best when, as in the Eurovision, we couldn’t see him.  Like many in the radio fraternity, you got the feeling he did his best work when he felt no-one was really watching.

Come January 1993, he returned home.  Terry was one of very few presenters ever to host two long spells on a significant breakfast show.  By now, he’d become the eponymous hero of ‘Wake Up to Wogan'; and he'd truly found his act.  That's the stage at which a performer truly matures; and the audience give them permission to behave unthinkably on-air.  One got the feeling that detailed show prep was not high on his list of priorities, but it mattered little.

As a professional, he's carried himself through his career with skill.  Being sufficiently true to himself when speaking about the Corporation, but stopping short of going too far.  His humour and presence softening comments on music policy, radio, or BBC antics which might have sounded unwise from others.

His handing over the Radio 2 breakfast baton to Chris Evans at the end of 2009 was text book.  One could witness the smell of two performers respecting each other’s very different talents.  I suspect it was well managed too; but one got the distinct feeling that he agreed with this unlikely plan.  If he did, he was right.  Here he was, letting his radio ‘son’ have a play now, probably shaking his head lovingly at the Evans antics like a tolerant father.

If proof were needed of his talents, watch his farewell speech below. Radio is rarely perfect, and that’s why we love it.  But this is.  Truly perfect delivery. As mentioned in my book, the pace is 165 words per minute, a little faster than his normal speed, but slower than most broadcasters. Terry delivers every valedictory word from the heart, as if to a close friend sat together in the living room. In truth, Tel is surrounded by producers and the nosey, gazing at a typed script, and reads every word.  Immaculately.  Note how he gazes into the eyes of his listener throughout, never those milling around; possibly the secret of his art in those 28 successful years on earlies. 

Wogan returned to Radio 2 in 2010 for Weekend Wogan.  Whilst a live audience situation was arguably not the best home for the Wogan skill, 30,000 people were said to have applied for a seat in the audience, gazing at his mastery.

My book 'How to Make Great Radio' is published by Biteback

Hope for BBC Local Radio

So, the walls did not come crumbling down  at BBC Local Radio.  

After much heat and noise, this much-loved web of stations has survived, largely unscathed.  

We do now have an evening show beamed across our fair Isles, but apart from that, the listener has been largely unaffected.  And, on the whole, so has the modus operandi of most stations.

Good news for the listener?

No. The day of reckoning has just been postponed.

These stations remain over-expensive to run.  Many are still inefficient; sometimes not in terms of those who work wholly on content, but more frequently in terms of management and operations.  The points I made in a blog almost two years ago, which appeared to receive thousands of reads and many quiet nods from my friends at the Corporation, remain largely relevant, even following the delicate slice of cuts.  As do the points I made in the report I was invited to assemble for RadioCentre, commercial radio's trade body, for inclusion within its representations to the BBC Trust review of BBC Local Radio.

Some BBC local stations still feel the need for Managing Editors, Assistant Editors, a clutch of Senior Broadcast Journalists; and other individuals in puzzling posts.  And a large number of regional managers (HRLPs) remain in their leathern chairs.  There was a flurry of management departures in BBC Local Radio, although many of those individuals appear to have been replaced by other individuals in the same post.  

BBC Local Radio has saved itself, for now, but has it acted in the long-term interest of its listeners?  There is still fat; and indeed areas where listener-facing resource could wisely be boosted, were sensible economies identified elsewhere.  Ask any sensible person at the BBC, and they'll still readily recite a catalogue of stories about inefficiency with a resigned shake of the head. Those recitals have now become a BBC sport.

The network evening show still puzzles me, just as it puzzles some BBC staff.  Let me say I have no issue with Mark Forrest.  He's a very good broadcaster, capable of delivering material in an engaging way.  I also have no problem with Matthew Bannister's production company 'Wire Free'; indeed, I would gladly protest naked waving a placard if anyone dared to touch Matthew's excellent 'Outlook' (BBC World) or the ever-fascinating 'Last Word' (Radio 4). But, if the goal was cost saving, it's a jolly funny way to go about it.  With Mark's own remuneration, topped up with the cost of the BBC liaison post, and iced with the c. £150k fee (later increased, in an addendum) to the production company, I suggest there is not much change from the cost of the evening shows which it replaced.  Not least because some of these were already shared across several stations.  

It is suggested that no cost is incurred by the post-Sachsgate compliance measures.  That cannot be the case.  If employees are charged with listening in; vetting texts and the such-like, there is a cost.  Those people are not doing something else.  I was amused to hear Ken Bruce on the Radio Academy podcast talk about his helper in the studio, charged with, inter alia, vetting texts for compliance reasons.  I rather wonder whether the great Ken might smile sweetly over a glass of wine and suggest that he's probably capable of working out which texts to read out and which not to, just as he'd managed to work out which words to utter live from his mouth during his impressive 35 year career.

I'm pleased AM transmission costs have been reviewed, as I suggested in 2008.  I hope there's now  a medium- term plan in place to rationalise the property portfolio; and install stations in efficient accommodation.  I hope staff absence levels have now fallen.  I hope that a fresh case is made for every single vacancy whenever it arises naturally; and that fair, necessary, legal redundancy is accepted by all parties when it is needed.   As it sadly sometimes is.

I hope that managers are brave enough to assemble a colourful Excel spreadsheet on which their own role is absent.  I hope that recruitment is being done more sensibly.  I hope the BBC manages to wend a way safely between establishing what is bullying and what is much-needed, sensible. fair, performance management.  In the current BBC climate, frankly I  have genuine sympathy for those managers trying to sustain the right line just there now.  It's become tougher than ever for them to put the cork back in the BBC bottle.

This rich network of valued stations is too valuable to lie vulnerable to the next round of cuts because senior management fail to seize the initiative to run them economically.  Commercial radio is finding it increasingly tough to make a living out of local format stations in smaller markets; BBC local radio has both an opportunity and a duty.  Some BBC local stations are once again now just finding a confident  place in their markets; and one can hear that on-air.   These are the only radio stations in the country charged with serving over 55s; and, given population shifts, that duty is an important one.

I write this not because I wish BBC local radio to suffer.  I write in because it must not.  

Circumstances will, in time, dictate that further cuts be made.  Let's not save them up and make a song and dance about them next time, so they become impossible to introduce.  Senior management must act now, day by day, in all they do and the decisions they take, to preserve the stations and not self-serve.  That's doing what licence-payers pay them to do: to manage this operation efficiently.

Day One - The Launch

The presenters wore smart pastel shirts and stripey ties on the launch day.  In fact, we wore them every day.  It was the view of the Chief Executive of  Lincs FM that clients might fear we were a pirate radio station if we wore a T shirt.  Mind you, his own livelihood relied hugely on the station's success, so he had the right to insist we all wore pink frocks, had he wished.

Such was the hubbub in the green office from the civic guests and clinking glasses on that first morning that the assembled throng nearly missed the opening words.  I cranked up the amp in the office and yelled 'shhhh' in an impatient sort of way, maybe forgivable from someone who's been up most of the night.  I still cringe at some of my edits and mixes on that launch sequence. Not that it helps now.

You've given birth.  You are a proud parent of something which will increasingly do what it wants, rather than what you want.  One day, it will no longer need you; and will likely continue in some form long after you're dead.  Click on the links in this blog; and enjoy some of those memorable moments.

Some stations make a three course meal of their launch day, talking incessantly on-air about how special it all is.  Compulsory remarks include: how tired they are; how long they've been practising; how nervous they are; and how the people in the office are drinking champagne.  But that they're not allowed to consume alcohol as they're on the air. Tee hee.  Radio Wyvern read out a message from  seemingly every single person in Worcester.

Other stations just jumped right in. The edict from Trent's Programme Controller in 1975, Bob Synder, was 'behave as if you've always been here'. 'Imagine you were around, you went away, and now you're back'.  One witnesses a thoroughly proficient music radio sound on that station from Day One. No indulgence, John Peters just got on with it. The same was true at Beacon.  Despite the huge commercial and regulatory challenges of those two stations in their early days, they were probably decades ahead of their time in music radio formatics.  That was evident in the fact that someone had drawn back from the navel-gazing mood of the moment to consider 'what do our audience really want?'.    Contrast this US-influenced clean music programming with the more sedate launch of stations like Radio Hallam, with its BBC DNA.

In fairness, apart from a typical Blackburn gag or two and Arnold woofing, Radio 1 in 1967, more or less got on with the job straightaway too; and one cannot help but admire Controller, Robin Scott's countdown to the two new services; "5, 4, 3, Radio 2, Radio 1. Go."

Many stations allow the Chairman a rare outing on air, come launch day. He typically invites himself to utter a few scripted words in true RP, sometimes introduced by the presenter who is at a loss just  how to introduce this strange man; and probably not awfully sure what he does.  Ocean Sound did it. Radio 210 (2-Ten) in Reading even sat him down in a pair of Beyers when they turned on a new transmitter.  Red Rose Radio was maybe the only one to have the Chairman at launch, with an ad in the same hour for one of his own businesses.

Radio Clyde was philosophical, with beautifully-carved words; and Moray Firth had a prayer.  The voice of David Symonds was almost choked with emotion as he began his round of thanks on the UK's first official commercial (ILR) station, Capital, in 1973.

Is the station's launch a news story, per se?  Every decent journalist will probably say 'well, it depends what else is around on the day's news agenda'; but probably the majority include it in their own bulletins. Some as a brief 'and finally' softee; others what appears to be an accidental mini-documentary. Witness Fosseway Radio.

If ever there were a case for a long station jingle, you may as well make it for the launch. Radio Manchester had a jingle to die for. Wyvern had its own song,   Some stations opt for the ethereal strings from nowhere and some scripted words of portent.  Southern Sound played its lengthy theme proudly and mentioned its origins; and BBC Radio Merseyside mused a little about its idents, made by the BBC Radiophonic workshop.

BBC Locals are indeed a different kettle of fish.  In the '60s and '70s, the local clock chiming and a Mayor with chain clanking was as good a place to start as any. BBC Radio Nottingham even called upon the Town Crier (mind you, so did the commercial Mix 96 in Aylesbury).

Many in the first tranche of these BBC 'home town stations'  included a familiar speech from the Postmaster General who issued the injunction:  "Programmes must always be lively, never dull".  Maybe more fittingly, others featured words from their real father: Frank Gillard.  There's also the ambitious OB; as attempted by Radio Merseyside, from 'high and low places'.  Maybe just a touch over-ambitious, as is transpired.

Radio Birmingham symbolised the birth with some random baby crying.  Some, more recently, tried humour, with the presenters at BBC Radio Gloucestershire trying to act out a little comedy drama.  Always better to be a proper actor if you're going to make a good fist of that, in my view.  Radio Teeside chose a listener to bid welcome, which is as good an approach as any for that format.

Despite the  best preparations, things can go annoyingly awry.  Too many omit to fade up the news jingle promptly; or fade up the IRN bulletin too promptly. Roger Day probably still shivers when he hears the Beach Boys vinyl wow in on the first moments of his first show on Piccadilly.  Mind you, it did not stop him tempting fate with the same song (albeit likely from CD) at the Pirate FM launch.  And whose bright idea was it to call a hospital on the launch day of Plymouth Sound?  Presenter Colin Bower sought to speak to a Nurse on the ward where a child had been born at the same moment as the station.  Whilst one admires his determination, he maybe should have given up a  touch earlier.

Another classic moment was Metro's playing in of a tape at the wrong speed.  Video does exist and one can see head in hands.  Seems funny now. I suspect it did not on the day.

What of the first song? It appeared for a time that there was a regulatory edict requiring Tina Turner's 'Simply The Best'.  Star FM simply had to start with Rose Royce 'Wishing On A Star' (introduced by Peter Dickson before his X-Factor days).  For other reasons, the legendary John  Myers  just had to launch all his own Century and Real stations diffidently with 'A Star is Born'.  I recall being in the huge marquee as Century 105 launched in Manchester, and that occasion brought home what a poignant moment a launch is for not only the station's presenters, but more so the tired engineers, the worried management; and their respective long-suffering partners.

The launch of Trent 945 in Derbyshire was thoroughly enjoyable.  Assembling the pre-launch test transmissions and the launch moment was my way of having fun.  Without fear of a disciplinary process at this late stage, may I confess that I returned to the studio the night before launch in March 1987, admittedly fulled by a few glasses of wine.  I opted out of the test transmission music tapes, and played all my promos and every one of the station jingle cuts back to back on-air.  At least I re-cued the carts as I threw them in and out the triple-stack.  

It's easy to look back dewy-eyed at the bygone decades of commercial radio.  Listening back to some of the launches brings one back to reality with a thump the weight of a Uher.  These inaugural minutes probably include just about everything one would wisely not do now.  Successive hugely-long incestuous links with little entertainment or informational value within; shopping lists of show features; the names of unknown presenters later on that day; combined with over-long news bulletins; and  songs we've never heard of.  If a station like that were to come on-air today against a significantly more competitive backdrop, with the BBC now more mainstream and Radio 1 on FM, well few would notice.  Because few would listen.

Witness, though, some more recent approaches. The inspired poetic launches of Isle of Wight Radio; and of Xfm South Wales. Maybe Kerrang 105.2's was a touch long an indulgent; but it had some nice touches of which they should be proud. TeamRock's in June 2013 was also inspired - and beautfully done.

Whilst we should all probably spend our time on engineering programming excellence across the output over the first months as  a whole, and accept that just three men and a dog may be the likely audience at dawn on Day One, maybe it's just human nature to want to do something a touch special to mark the moment.   Then again, with DAB stations  opening and closing more frequently; and analogue stations re-branding more often, just maybe launches in future won't seem quite the same as the day of your wedding any more.

If you do decide to do 'a launch', just don't bother with a 'countdown'. It's been done before.

Enjoy audio from well over a hundred stations launching on my site here.  Thanks to friends old and new for contributions, including Paul Easton and Andy Walmsley.