Ron Goodwin – ‘Schickel Shamble’

I am a Radio 4 person; I almost certainly spend more time listening to Radio 4 than I do watching television, often now ‘on demand’.  Television by its very nature is something that requires at least most of your attention, it’s the visual nature.  Radio though is much more pervading and, for me, it has always felt like I am inviting presenters into my home, sharing my space with them while my life happens.

Presenters become an important part of life – you form a bond, a relationship, a friendship with them; you know it isn’t shared but that doesn’t matter, you perhaps spend more time with them that with real family and real friends.  Their deaths hit you hard – I still remember the January over 20 years ago when both Brian Redhead (Today) and Brian Johnson (Test Match Special) joined the choir invisible, part of my growing up had disappeared and tears were shed for both.

I love the cornucopia of the spoken word of news, politics, arts and comedy that comes with Radio 4.  Of the latter, my favourite is, without any shadow of a doubt, ‘I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue’ – I can’t claim to have listened since the first episodes in 1972, but have certainly been listening off and, mainly on, since around 1978, when I recall my Dad tuning in to it on a massive ancient ‘wireless’ in our kitchen.

Just hearing the first few notes of ‘Schickel Shamble’ brings a smile – I know I am in for a treat, it is like being with a bunch of old friends – knowing all the in-jokes, understanding the ‘rules’ of Mornington Crescent, the making fun of the host towns, of the panellists and of the pianist Colin Sell’s musical ability, knowing what comes after ‘Hamish, Dougal …’ in ‘Sound Charades’, looking forward to Jeremy Hardy ‘singing’, sniggering at the Samantha-related smutty innuendos, and knowing that closing time will be called in a delightful and bizarre way ….

…and so, as we rapidly approach the bus stop of the Apocalypse, I notice that the Four Horsemen have all come along at the same time…

Like the demise of the two Brians, I shed a tear for ‘Humph’ (Humphrey Littleton, the first ‘host’) when the Goofy hand on his fake Rolex stopped ticking; I feared for the show and its ‘traditions’ but Jack Dee’s droll humour is perfect for ISIHAC and has re-invigorated a certain Mrs Trellis from North Wales.  If you have never experienced the delights of ISIHAC, the stage show below (the final recording of ‘Humph’) gives some idea of what it is all about, but to fully appreciate the nuances, though, at least half a lifetime’s listening is required.

Oasis –Don’t Look Back In Anger

SICP-4152In my musical auto-biography Oasis have to feature, and ‘(What’s the Story) Morning Glory’ has to be there too as it would be on my ‘Desert Island Discs’ list.    ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’, while not my favourite song on the album, holds a really special place as it forms an important part of the backdrop of my children growing up.

My younger son loved singing along to songs from when he was very small, we have an embarrassing (for him at least) recording of him singing along to Boyzone’s ‘No Matter What’ in front of a Christmas tree.  In the car though, the demands were frequently for ‘The Sally Song’, as ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’ was always referred to.

Roll on a decade or so and my eldest and I went to see Oasis at Wembley Stadium in July 2009; it ought to be a horrible venue for seeing bands, but Oasis made it their own and the size, even standing on the top tier somehow didn’t matter.  It was to be one of the last gigs they played before the tensions between Liam and Noel finally boiled over. Towards the end, probably as part of the encore, Liam appeared on the set on his own and just let us ‘do’ the vocals – 90,000 singing back his lyrics to him, as he played a pared- back version of the song.  Of all the songs, at all the gigs I’ve been to, it is the one that is most firmly implanted in my memory bank.