plans: ‘Bossy Read aims to revive tired Radio Two’. I’m surprised no one pushed me up against the wall and uttered dark threats. ‘They are doing everything wrong at the moment,’ I opined, ‘it’s all bits and pieces with all sorts of odd bods working there. Teenagers don’t want to hear Donald Peers.’ (Donald Peers was a Welsh singer first recorded by the BBC in 1927 and, unaccountably, still enjoying regular outings on Radio Two nearly sixty years later.) ‘The departure of disc jockeys like David Hamilton and Johnnie Walker have left the place in a shambles,’ I ranted. I made some pretty rash statements. ‘I would lay down guidelines which would guarantee Radio Two the biggest audience in the land.’ This was risible stuff at the time, but the vision I had gradually happened and the unthinkable occurred. Radio Two now consistently beats Radio One in the ratings. Always listen to the crazy man … you never know, he might just be right. I was always that guy, the one with the flag, firstout of the trenches with more ‘gung-ho’ than actual planning. Do it first and think about it afterwards.
As it turned out, I stayed at Radio One until the end of 1991. I did weekend shows, I did evening shows, I depped on daytime shows. I fronted the newly devised Sunday Roadshows, which got fantastic ratings, but when my then producer, Chris Lycett, pointed this out to a less-than-impressed controller, the reply was, ‘Yes. Ironic, isn’t it?’ At that time I’d co-written Cliff Richard’s latest hit, featured heavily on Slade’s new single (their first top thirty hit for seven years), and was producing the premiere of my Oscar Wilde musical. These days, when multi-tasking is encouraged and is often financially essential, it seems strange that Radio One was suggesting that I should decide whether I wanted to be a broadcaster, a songwriter or a stage producer. I was having to choose between apples, oranges and grapefruit, but I couldn’t eat them all. What nonsense. I needed my ‘five a day’ before it was advocated.
I’d had a couple of meetings with Capital Radio’s Richard Park, as he was trying to encourage me to jump ship to his outfit, who’d got the nod that they would be given the franchise for the first national commercial radio station in the form of Capital Gold, their oldies station. Always to be relied on for a good sporting analogy, Richard affirmed, ‘I’d like you to open the batting for us.’ After two false starts, I signed up. It made sense … go when you feel the time is right. In doing so I avoided the infamous ‘Blood on the carpet’ moment when the chariot wheels of the new Radio One Controller, Matthew Bannister, scythed down several of the station’s broadcasters. Only once I’d leapt across the great divide did Capital decide against going for the national franchise. Great. However, the station had a strong line-up including Tony Blackburn, Kid Jensen, Paul Burnett, Kenny Everett, David Hamilton and Dave Cash, so all was not lost.
I arrived at Capital Gold at the tail end of 1991, in time for the station’s third birthday. Richard Park commented, ‘It’s great to welcome Mike to our all-star line-up. He has a huge following and his presencecan only add to the success enjoyed by Capital Gold.’ I was hired to present the drivetime show, and I also fronted up Capital Gold’s Work Experience Scheme, which was designed to help schoolchildren to prepare for working life. This was becoming increasingly important both for London’s young people and for prospective employers, so the idea was to provide pupils approaching their last year at school with short periods in various organisations in order for them to get a taste of the working world and what might be expected of them. Hopefully people became more switched on.
That can’t be said of everyone at the station, though. On one occasion I was at an awards ceremony, sharing a table with a mix of sales, management and
As it turned out, I stayed at Radio One until the end of 1991. I did weekend shows, I did evening shows, I depped on daytime shows. I fronted the newly devised Sunday Roadshows, which got fantastic ratings, but when my then producer, Chris Lycett, pointed this out to a less-than-impressed controller, the reply was, ‘Yes. Ironic, isn’t it?’ At that time I’d co-written Cliff Richard’s latest hit, featured heavily on Slade’s new single (their first top thirty hit for seven years), and was producing the premiere of my Oscar Wilde musical. These days, when multi-tasking is encouraged and is often financially essential, it seems strange that Radio One was suggesting that I should decide whether I wanted to be a broadcaster, a songwriter or a stage producer. I was having to choose between apples, oranges and grapefruit, but I couldn’t eat them all. What nonsense. I needed my ‘five a day’ before it was advocated.
I’d had a couple of meetings with Capital Radio’s Richard Park, as he was trying to encourage me to jump ship to his outfit, who’d got the nod that they would be given the franchise for the first national commercial radio station in the form of Capital Gold, their oldies station. Always to be relied on for a good sporting analogy, Richard affirmed, ‘I’d like you to open the batting for us.’ After two false starts, I signed up. It made sense … go when you feel the time is right. In doing so I avoided the infamous ‘Blood on the carpet’ moment when the chariot wheels of the new Radio One Controller, Matthew Bannister, scythed down several of the station’s broadcasters. Only once I’d leapt across the great divide did Capital decide against going for the national franchise. Great. However, the station had a strong line-up including Tony Blackburn, Kid Jensen, Paul Burnett, Kenny Everett, David Hamilton and Dave Cash, so all was not lost.
I arrived at Capital Gold at the tail end of 1991, in time for the station’s third birthday. Richard Park commented, ‘It’s great to welcome Mike to our all-star line-up. He has a huge following and his presencecan only add to the success enjoyed by Capital Gold.’ I was hired to present the drivetime show, and I also fronted up Capital Gold’s Work Experience Scheme, which was designed to help schoolchildren to prepare for working life. This was becoming increasingly important both for London’s young people and for prospective employers, so the idea was to provide pupils approaching their last year at school with short periods in various organisations in order for them to get a taste of the working world and what might be expected of them. Hopefully people became more switched on.
That can’t be said of everyone at the station, though. On one occasion I was at an awards ceremony, sharing a table with a mix of sales, management and
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