Radio Two, eh? These days it's all Jonathan Ross interviewing Jarvis Cocker, the coke-snaffling Johnnie Walker and Stuart Maconie ruminating about the new Lamb CD, but it wasn't ever thus. Born of the Light Programme in 1967, the Two has been a flagship of national broadcasting ever since, for most of its years with one Terence Wogan steering an ever more whimsical course. But along the way there've been plenty of other stalwarts of the airwaves, with some easy patter, relaxing jingles and a copy of Born With A Smile On My Face by Stephanie De Sykes. Eschewing all obvious gags about zimmer frames and Ovaltine, on 433 and 330 metres medium wave*, we present the first ever guide to Radio Two Cream... TONY BRANDON (1970s) Did the early shift prior to Ray Moore, accompanied by a tape of a tweeting bird called Percy - Edwards, see? Prone to lapsing into Scots accent at every available opportunity, a la DLT or Mike Read. Regular references to 'hot porridge' stick in the mind. KEN BRUCE (1976-) Groomed in the rarefied air of BBC Radio Scotland, Ken made the great journey to London in the mid 70s on the promise of a regular slot to speak to the nations. After jostling with Terence for the Eurovision gig, he settled comfortably into daytimes before unceremoniously promoted to fill Wogan's slippers once El Tel took up permanent residence on Shepherd's Bush Green in 1985. But his Celtic twang proved an unpopular substitute for Irish blarney... so mid-mornings beckoned, where, after excursion into late nights and early mornings, he remains to this day. Also used to head up numerous OBs, stoking the boiler for the Radio Two Summer Railshows which brought consumer advice and Jim Reeves records to the elderly and infirm on the English Riviera. DESMOND CARRINGTON (1981-) For more than 20 years, the unflappable compere of All-Time Greats, Two's staple Sunday lunchtime straining-the-Bisto fare. Des served time, like so many of his wireless peers, in Forces Radio and demonstrates much the same slightly over-concerned patter on air as he no doubt patented 50 years ago - and assuredly retains the same target audience. Now broadcasts live from his customised shack in the Grampian Mountains (complete with webcam). A recent poll revealed the most played "Great" to be, not surprisingly, Begin The Beguine. RT once printed a letter from a concerned correspondent worried about the effect of a gruelling three-hour stint on Des's health. He's only playing records! JOHN DUNN (1967-1999) Worst possible name for those sung R2 jingles - "Johhhhhhn Duuuuuuunn!". Original host for Breakfast Special in long wave days before Wogan assumed the swivel chair, moved onto drivetime duties with daily 'after six' interviews and still-going Mystery Voice competition. Spoke 'BBC English' like his life depended on it. 'DIDDY' DAVID HAMILTON (1978-86) Originally a stooge for Ken Dodd, and recently spotted hosting What's In The Box? quiz on Live TV, but back in the 70s and 80s, the diminutive Hamilton divided his time between his R2 afternoon show and Thames continuity duties ("My bottle's gone, I can tell you!") Splendid tonsural concoction atop the Hamilton noggin - a suspiciously toupee-like middle bit, with lustrous side-ramparts on either wing of his face. Completely wasted on radio. Now doing breakfast, as they say, on Saga Radio in the West Midlands. We didn't make that up. Madness did jingles for his R2 show, so he must have something going for him. DAVID JACOBS (1948-) An apprenticeship working the tannoy on World War Two battleships seemed training enough for David "Hello There!" Jacobs to join the Home Service within weeks of demobilisation. From there it was a quick hop to Radio Newsreel, Housewives Choice and Pick Of The Pops, which he inherited from Alan Dell in 1957. A much publicised "spat" with PETE MURRAY was in fact all cooked up for publicity ("People wrote to say they enjoyed the insults more than the pop records!") but it made the man a national icon. He proceeded to sidle around the network, most famously hosting the ultimate schedule filler Our Kind Of Music, and dallied on Radio 4 (Any Questions) besides moonlighting on telly (Come Dancing, Juke Box Jury and the early years of TOTP). Currently holding on in the Sunday night graveyard shift, "opening the cabinet marked...The David Jacobs Collection!" DEREK JAMESON (1985-96) "Mornin' mornin', Jameson 'ere!" Unfortunately. Non-regular listeners must have got the impression the cabby sent to pick up the regular morning DJ had returned empty-handed and gone on air himself. Former tabloid editor and self-styled man of the people, forever droning on in his "bunker" about ver Great British Public. Lasted longer than Ken Bruce who preceded him and Brian Hayes who followed, mind. Later shunted off to late-nite Horlicksathon (yeah, we know what we said) with missus Ellen. BRIAN MATTHEW (1967-) From Saturday Club hip young gunslinger (well, sort of) in the 60s, to the 21st century, which finds him in almost exactly the same slot, playing exactly the same records. In between, did respected arts and chat sequence Round Midnight. "Morning avids!" RAY MOORE (1970s and 80s) Early Show ultra-dry behemoth of fond remembrance, who died of cancer in the late 1980s. Listeners will recall (and we're quoting here from the uk.media.radio.bbc-r2 website) references to Gatport Airwick, abominable loads and the bog-eyed jog, as well as regular fill-in stints for El Tel on breakfast, whence Wogan's Winner got renamed Moore's Horse. PETE MURRAY (1970s) Ding-dong! Ultrasmooth compere of mid-morning roving doorchime-themed Open House show, a bit like the Radio One Roadshow, if we recall correctly, but from the WI rather than the Pleasure Beach. TERRY WOGAN (1970-85 and 1993-) Fighting the flab. The poison dwarf. Jokes about the DG's dentures. Like a bumblebee, it really shouldn't have worked, but somehow the goddamn thing took flight. The whimsical degenerate had honed his "I don't know what's going on here but I wish it would stop" radio persona on R1, before transferring it, practically intact, to mornings on R2, writing the book on national 'jokes' ("Cones! Bloody traffic cones! They're everywhere!"), spinning Kenny Rogers' Lucille on a seemingly daily basis and 'picking up' on whimsical records with disturbing regularity, ie The Floral Dance, as performed on TOTP by Tel in a powder blue wide-lapelled suit and holding a flower. For all that, damn fine free-form radio entertainment for ages seven to 97. Nineties revival welcomed by many, although TW returned with a noticeably more crotchety level of irritation and, blimey, a 'zoo' format... JIMMY YOUNG (1973-) "Mrs Thatcher's favourite broadcaster" but we won't hold that against him, JY was the former balladeer and Light Programme crooner turned mid-morning stalwart of wonderful 247, before shifting the prog over to Two back in 1973. Highlight was daily recipe (there's an idea, Dave Pearce), heralded by voice of chipmunkesque chef-type creation Raymondo - "What's the recipe of the day, Jim?" And can still be heard every lunchtime with his Legal Beagle and that fantastic theme music. TTFN! COMEDY/LIGHT ENTERTAINMENT By the mid-70s Radio 2 was already turning into a rest home for dwindling nightclub acts and those intriguingly billed "all-round entertainers", all of who undoubtedly benefited from further welcome employment on air late into the 1980s. Particularly ill disposed to move on were, of course, THE GRUMBLEWEEDS; other stalwarts included BERNIE CLIFTON'S COMEDY SHOP, whose contributors included Pat Mooney (and who won a spin off show, MOONEY'S MONDAY MAGAZINE). If you couldn't sell your topical one-liner to Radio 4's Weekending, THE NEWS HUDDLINES team were always available. HINGE AND BRACKETT cornered the market in sound-only drag acts; Rolf Harris went on a WALKABOUT that lasted a whole decade; while JEREMY BEADLE'S NIGHTCAP helpfully reminded listeners when it was time to switch off their set. Les Dawson, Roy Castle and many others turned their hand to revue-style series, including Ken Dodd who stuffed more money under the mattress thanks to his PALACE OF LAUGHTER. Meanwhile both INSTANT SUNSHINE and their C-list cousins HARVEY AND THE WALLBANGERS "took" those "sideways" looks at the events of the week in song. SING SOMETHING SIMPLE (forever) Scary, scary Sunday afternoon staple, usually broadcast just prior to R1 took over the FM transmitters for the Top Forty. Featuring the vocal talents of The Cliff Adams Singers and The Jack Emblow Quartet, the close-harmony renditions of Camptown Races or Banjo On My Knee, which crucially, just seemed to loom terrifyingly out of nowhere with no introduction, was and still is the stuff of nightmares. Ahem. SPORT ON TWO (1970-90) Saturday afternoon sporting concoction of football, county cricket and the 3.15 from Chepstow, maintained throughout the1980s under the steady hand of RENTON LAIDLAW, golf correspondent of the Evening Standard, no less. Summer Sunday editions arrived in 1985 with STUART HALL complementing your Sunday Grandstand fare of motorcycling and local tennis tournaments and never-that-smooth segueing between the last chorus of I Know Him So Well and the John Player League scoreboard. WAGGONER'S WALK (1967-80) Two's daily soap, created as a more 'happening' version of The Dales. Killed off in 1980 after BBC budget cuts, when it had assumed national joke proportions - well, Chris Tarrant made a joke about it on Tiswas. YOU, THE NIGHT AND THE MUSIC (1979-) Radio Two proudly became the first BBC station in the country to go 24 hours on January 28th 1979 with its new 2-5am show You, The Night And The Music. Amongst those doing the honours and meeting the Broadcasting House night porter for the first time were RAY MOORE, PATRICK LUNT and SHEILA TRACY. The insomniac shift was later re-titled NIGHTRIDE, where COLIN BERRY and CHARLES NOVE oozed sweet nothings into the microphone. Overnights are now jealously guarded by the unlikely coupling of JANICE LONG and ALEX LESTER, both of whom play too many loud records - can't they see we're trying to sleep here? * Radio Two was of course originally on 1500 metres long wave, while Radio One was, natch, originally on Wonderful 247 metres, until November 23rd 1978, when most of the BBC networks changed frequencies and Terry Wogan came on the telly and gave us some little stickers to put on your "tranny" to show where all the stations were moving to. The frequency changes were broadcast live on an extended Nationwide special, with four cryptic VU meters that pointed in the same direction when the deed was done. Then the Kings Singers reminded us of the new frequencies in a memorable musical form. The little stickers to put on the radio dial were diamond shaped with a 1 2 3 or 4 inside, plus a bigger sticker with the actual frequencies on it, for you to stick on the knobby bit on the side where the handle attatched, or inside your wallet for emergency reference. Or wherever you liked. Then in August 1990, Radio Two departed MW for good, to make way for Radio Five, heralded by a series of special half-hour phone-ins with all the daytime presenters on MW only, 30 minutes after their main show, in which they were joined by a bearded friendly BBC engineer, in which they informed callers, in most cases, that basically, they'd need a new radio. Lord, what fun we all did have back then. Listening to Nove on the sly: Chris Hughes, Ian 'Round Thing' Jones, Phil Norman |
