Radio Moments - Clips

Radio Moments - Clips

By David LloydSociety & CultureArtsPerforming Arts
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Radio Moments - Clips episodes

  • 1085: Johnnie Walker on BBC WM's 45th anniversary
    Johnnie Walker grabbed his early breaths in Birmingham and it was there too that he went on to spin his first discs and develop his love of music. He was less fortunate as he went on to miss out on a local DJ contest, with some random called Les Ross faring rather better. It didn’t seem to hold Johnnie back.
    As the BBC celebrated 45 years of broadcasting in Birmingham via BBC WM and its predecessor BBC Radio Birmingham, it invited Johnnie and a series of local legends to host shows. Relish this three hour telescoped programme as Johnnie relates his own stories of his life, radio and music. It also just happens to be immaculate broadcasting and perfect storytelling.
    1 hr
  • 1083: Radio 4 PM - Through the years

    I adore Eddie Mair. There. The love affair is public. I just shake my head in wondrous disbelief as he allows radio to be the best it can. The pauses. The short, barbed questions: those daggers covered in cotton wool. The deadpan retorts. The potent questions masquerading as statements. The politeness coated with innocent acid. And - the gifted, gifted teasers at the outset. I could go on. He is a master; and yet maybe not yet recognised sufficiently for his brilliance.

    I once sat in the car at a lonely filling station on the cold moors of the M62, unable to get out of the car during one of his interviews which had turned into art. Admittedly over a glass of wine, I wrote lovingly to say as much; and Eddie took the trouble to reply.

    The show for which he is now rightly famous is PM. But it has not always been like that.

    PM began in 1970, following the 'Broadcasting in the 70s' report which paved the way for the BBC radio services to carve out their own sovereign states. As you can hear on this Boo: William Hardcastle and Derek Cooper heralded a programme which "sums up the day and your evening starts here".

    It did have a twiddly-pom signature tune, thanks to the Radiophonic workshop. This later gave way to an orchestral piece; and I often dreamed of co-hosting that very show with Valerie Singleton, voicing up to the Da-da-da-da-dah-dah-dah. It was never to happen. Not that she's dead, you understand. She just doesn't care about me.

    There is no theme now; save for pip pip peep. But Eddie's powerfully-chosen words are better than the best orchestra in the world; or even any fine piece from the delectable Delia Derbyshire. The last sig seemed wrong when the programme covered the death of Princess Diana; and has never since seemed right.

    PM is the BBC at its best.

    13 min
  • 1083: Radio 4 PM - Through the years
    I adore Eddie Mair. There. The love affair is public. I just shake my head in wondrous disbelief as he allows radio to be the best it can. The pauses. The short, barbed questions: those daggers covered in cotton wool. The deadpan retorts. The potent questions masquerading as statements. The politeness coated with innocent acid. And - the gifted, gifted teasers at the outset. I could go on. He is a master; and yet maybe not yet recognised sufficiently for his brilliance.
    I once sat in the car at a lonely filling station on the cold moors of the M62, unable to get out of the car during one of his interviews which had turned into art. Admittedly over a glass of wine, I wrote lovingly to say as much; and Eddie took the trouble to reply.
    The show for which he is now rightly famous is PM. But it has not always been like that.
    PM began in 1970, following the 'Broadcasting in the 70s' report which paved the way for the BBC radio services to carve out their own sovereign states. As you can hear on this Boo: William Hardcastle and Derek Cooper heralded a programme which "sums up the day and your evening starts here".
    It did have a twiddly-pom signature tune, thanks to the Radiophonic workshop. This later gave way to an orchestral piece; and I often dreamed of co-hosting that very show with Valerie Singleton, voicing up to the Da-da-da-da-dah-dah-dah. It was never to happen. Not that she's dead, you understand. She just doesn't care about me.
    There is no theme now; save for pip pip peep. But Eddie's powerfully-chosen words are better than the best orchestra in the world; or even any fine piece from the delectable Delia Derbyshire. The last sig seemed wrong when the programme covered the death of Princess Diana; and has never since seemed right.
    PM is the BBC at its best.
    13 min
  • 1083: Radio 4 PM - Through the years
    I adore Eddie Mair. There. The love affair is public. I just shake my head in wondrous disbelief as he allows radio to be the best it can. The pauses. The short, barbed questions: those daggers covered in cotton wool. The deadpan retorts. The potent questions masquerading as statements. The politeness coated with innocent acid. And - the gifted, gifted teasers at the outset. I could go on. He is a master; and yet maybe not yet recognised sufficiently for his brilliance.
    I once sat in the car at a lonely filling station on the cold moors of the M62, unable to get out of the car during one of his interviews which had turned into art. Admittedly over a glass of wine, I wrote lovingly to say as much; and Eddie took the trouble to reply.
    The show for which he is now rightly famous is PM. But it has not always been like that.
    PM began in 1970, following the 'Broadcasting in the 70s' report which paved the way for the BBC radio services to carve out their own sovereign states. As you can hear on this Boo: William Hardcastle and Derek Cooper heralded a programme which "sums up the day and your evening starts here".
    It did have a twiddly-pom signature tune, thanks to the Radiophonic workshop. This later gave way to an orchestral piece; and I often dreamed of co-hosting that very show with Valerie Singleton, voicing up to the Da-da-da-da-dah-dah-dah. It was never to happen. Not that she's dead, you understand. She just doesn't care about me.
    There is no theme now; save for pip pip peep. But Eddie's powerfully-chosen words are better than the best orchestra in the world; or even any fine piece from the delectable Delia Derbyshire. The last sig seemed wrong when the programme covered the death of Princess Diana; and has never since seemed right.
    PM is the BBC at its best.
    13 min
  • 1081: Last edition of Radio Newsreel in 1988

    The programme name ‘Radio Newsreel’ sounds valve-fuelled. It was; borrowing its name from its visual sister, Pathe’s famous cinema newsreel. The very sound of its sig tune, Imperial Echoes, evokes the pride of an Empire. The tune had been innocently written for the piano in 1913, before being adapted as a march and played by the Band of the Royal Air Force. It was this version which, for so many years, opened and closed the programme.

    From 1940 and 1988, Radio Newsreel brought eye-witness despatches from correspondents around the World to transmitters around the World. Launching on the Overseas Service, a domestic edition edition was to air on the BBC Light Programme and later the Home Service and its successor, Radio 4. 1970 saw the end of this homely edition, with the World Service continuing as its home for a further 18 years until this transmission in 1988.

    4 min
  • 1081: Last edition of Radio Newsreel in 1988
    The programme name ‘Radio Newsreel’ sounds valve-fuelled. It was; borrowing its name from its visual sister, Pathe’s famous cinema newsreel. The very sound of its sig tune, Imperial Echoes, evokes the pride of an Empire. The tune had been innocently written for the piano in 1913, before being adapted as a march and played by the Band of the Royal Air Force. It was this version which, for so many years, opened and closed the programme.
    From 1940 and 1988, Radio Newsreel brought eye-witness despatches from correspondents around the World to transmitters around the World. Launching on the Overseas Service, a domestic edition edition was to air on the BBC Light Programme and later the Home Service and its successor, Radio 4. 1970 saw the end of this homely edition, with the World Service continuing as its home for a further 18 years until this transmission in 1988.
    4 min

About Radio Moments - Clips

From the publisher's feed

Vintage clips from UK radio - and more recent broadcasts of note.