researchers, Lisa and Jason, to approach agents. And on the whole, they did a good job. (Lisa’s personality could be an issue. I suspected her of smoking cannabis and, as her employer, rifled through her bag to be sure. Nothing, but she went berserk. Her attitude really, really stank sometimes.)
The date of the first show was approaching. But we hit a snag! The BBC had decided that Alan’s Show ‘wouldn’t work as a name’ on the grounds that people might not know who ‘Alan’ was. I said, ‘I dunno where you’ve got that idea from!’ And I invited them to my local Do It All as a fame-proving exercise (they declined). Alas, we needed a new name.
A team meeting was hastily called and we embarked on ‘brainstorming’, an American business technique in which ideas are graded depending on how loudly they’re shouted. As the team screamed at each other, I noticed that my favourite CD, Abba Gold , was on the stereo and a song came on that I felt would be perfect. 78 I sat and listened as the debate raged on among my colleagues before shouting, ‘Shut up, you wallies! Shut up and listen to the music!!’
That got them. We sat in silence as the refrains of the song, ‘The Winner Takes It All’, blasted from the office Alba. It seemed so right, with its title reflecting my sporting heritage while announcing myself as a triumph in the cut-throat world of broadcasting. As I sang along, eyes closed, I imagined it playing to the applause of a studio audience.
In the end, the group persuaded me that it didn’t set a particularly inclusive or humble tone, but another track, 79 ‘Knowing Me, Knowing You’ – which is centred on the theme of people ‘knowing’ each other – seemed to fit the bill.
We put a call in to Abba’s people and waited for the good news. But all we got was a snub. Abba, it seemed, wanted to receive a special payment, or ‘royalty’, if their song was broadcast.
This was insane, I reasoned. The man on Norwich market who sells towels plays this CD every week. Does he have to pay a ‘royalty’? Does a single mum have to pay a ‘royalty’ if she blares it from her Fiesta car stereo? We were being victimised.
I later discovered that royalty payments were an extremely common – but no less sickening – requirement of music broadcasting. So we had the song re-recorded by the Jeff Lovell Orchestra. 80 This version retained all of the poetry and drama of the original, but Jeff, himself on guitar, added much more treble to the mix and with extra cymbal work managed to add a sheen of accessibility and, dare I say it, stardust to an already magnificent song. We had our musical motif. 81
Aha!
What is that? What is Aha? Well, it’s a duosyllabic exclamation that has spilled from my chops and given pleasure to millions across the globe. Some would say it has come to define me. But how was it formed? I’ll tell you the truth.
We’d not even rehearsed it. I’ll say that again (or you could just re-read the first one and skip this next one.) We’d not even rehearsed it. I came out on stage for that first show, sweating freely and visibly from my face, neck, pits, back and pants. ‘Knowing me, knowing you,’ sang the Jeff Lovell girls. 82 And as the track reached its conclusion, they sang it again.
My eyes filled with a burning white light and Abba drenched my brain. ‘Ahaaaaa!!!!’ I boomed. It just came out. WALLOP! The audience didn’t know what to say. Me, I took it in my stride, literally shaking at how right, how ruddy correct , it had felt. Throughout that show, I said it a few more times. And I opened all subsequent shows with the same shout. And you know what, it became something of a calling card, voted years later 84th in Channel 4’s 100 Best Catchphrases.
And if people to this day shout it out at me, in the street, or when I’m trying to pay for my shopping, or if I ring up a call centre to renew car insurance, or in a doctor’s waiting room if I’m having trouble
The date of the first show was approaching. But we hit a snag! The BBC had decided that Alan’s Show ‘wouldn’t work as a name’ on the grounds that people might not know who ‘Alan’ was. I said, ‘I dunno where you’ve got that idea from!’ And I invited them to my local Do It All as a fame-proving exercise (they declined). Alas, we needed a new name.
A team meeting was hastily called and we embarked on ‘brainstorming’, an American business technique in which ideas are graded depending on how loudly they’re shouted. As the team screamed at each other, I noticed that my favourite CD, Abba Gold , was on the stereo and a song came on that I felt would be perfect. 78 I sat and listened as the debate raged on among my colleagues before shouting, ‘Shut up, you wallies! Shut up and listen to the music!!’
That got them. We sat in silence as the refrains of the song, ‘The Winner Takes It All’, blasted from the office Alba. It seemed so right, with its title reflecting my sporting heritage while announcing myself as a triumph in the cut-throat world of broadcasting. As I sang along, eyes closed, I imagined it playing to the applause of a studio audience.
In the end, the group persuaded me that it didn’t set a particularly inclusive or humble tone, but another track, 79 ‘Knowing Me, Knowing You’ – which is centred on the theme of people ‘knowing’ each other – seemed to fit the bill.
We put a call in to Abba’s people and waited for the good news. But all we got was a snub. Abba, it seemed, wanted to receive a special payment, or ‘royalty’, if their song was broadcast.
This was insane, I reasoned. The man on Norwich market who sells towels plays this CD every week. Does he have to pay a ‘royalty’? Does a single mum have to pay a ‘royalty’ if she blares it from her Fiesta car stereo? We were being victimised.
I later discovered that royalty payments were an extremely common – but no less sickening – requirement of music broadcasting. So we had the song re-recorded by the Jeff Lovell Orchestra. 80 This version retained all of the poetry and drama of the original, but Jeff, himself on guitar, added much more treble to the mix and with extra cymbal work managed to add a sheen of accessibility and, dare I say it, stardust to an already magnificent song. We had our musical motif. 81
Aha!
What is that? What is Aha? Well, it’s a duosyllabic exclamation that has spilled from my chops and given pleasure to millions across the globe. Some would say it has come to define me. But how was it formed? I’ll tell you the truth.
We’d not even rehearsed it. I’ll say that again (or you could just re-read the first one and skip this next one.) We’d not even rehearsed it. I came out on stage for that first show, sweating freely and visibly from my face, neck, pits, back and pants. ‘Knowing me, knowing you,’ sang the Jeff Lovell girls. 82 And as the track reached its conclusion, they sang it again.
My eyes filled with a burning white light and Abba drenched my brain. ‘Ahaaaaa!!!!’ I boomed. It just came out. WALLOP! The audience didn’t know what to say. Me, I took it in my stride, literally shaking at how right, how ruddy correct , it had felt. Throughout that show, I said it a few more times. And I opened all subsequent shows with the same shout. And you know what, it became something of a calling card, voted years later 84th in Channel 4’s 100 Best Catchphrases.
And if people to this day shout it out at me, in the street, or when I’m trying to pay for my shopping, or if I ring up a call centre to renew car insurance, or in a doctor’s waiting room if I’m having trouble
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