I went up to the smoke, managed to shake off Rob's shonky directions and turned up at the right place at the right time for the B3ta radio show. Which is more than can be said for Rob - h turned up five minutes into the programme and he was the presenter!
Resonance FM can be best described as pert, broadcasting from a couple of rooms on Denmark Street - London's Tin Pan Alley, next door to the shop where I bought my Korg Poly6 as a callow youth. On the wall of the frighteningly small studio is stern notice "NO SWEARING - you can't afford the fine." I'd already thought about this, and was determined to be on my best behaviour.
"Can I say 'twat'?"
"No."
"What about 'arse'?"
"Risky."
"Twunt?"
"As often as you like."
It is the curse of the community radio station - they have little control over the people behind the mike, so they're up to their necks with OFCOM over an unfortunate 'Jesus Fucking Christ' that made it out into the wild. Ooops.
I got off to a slow start, gave dreadful interview, but thanked myself for actually having something scripted beforehand. Apart from that, the running order was made up as we went along, we had to fight over the mike, and it was utter chaos. But it was brill, and there were free sausage rolls. And we got to play Frank Zappa and slag off Oasis.
As an experience, all very woo, and if invited back, I promise to be better prepared.
Also on Friday... Weymouth and Portland confirmed as the yachting venue for the 2012 London Olympic bid. I'm surprised they didn't try to do it in the boating lake in Hyde Park. Beach Volleyball in Horseguard's Parade. There won't be a stroke of work done in Whitehall for weeks.
No comments:
Post a Comment