Radio 1's birthday

 Radio 1's birthday

Today Radio 1 celebrated their 57th anniversary, a notable landmark that the BBC must be enormously proud of since at the time Radio 1 were regarded as impostors by those who still stubbornly clung onto the progressive and rebellious voices of pirate radio. At the time, the likes of Radio Caroline, Radio London and Radio North Sea International remained at the cutting edge of music on the radio, playing the most diverse chart music of the time and an impressive fusion of heavy rock and, in the case of Radio Caroline, some of the most obscure album tracks from the contemporary sounds of the time.

It was Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, the Animals, Cream, Hawkwind, Fairport Convention and records most of us had never heard of during the 1960s. But although radically different from anything the British public had ever heard of before, Radio Caroline were anti Establishment and therefore dangerous. But then the Home Office intervened and the pirates days were numbered, enforcing the most draconian acts in the Broadcasting Act, forbidding any radio station from transmitting without a licence.

Frequently, these radio giants of the high seas were raided by the authorities and all turntables, aerials, huge stacks of singles and albums were repeatedly confiscated by large groups of law makers and bureaucratic officialdom. The BBC were intent though, on wiping out the illegal noises being made by these avid music lovers who just wanted to challenge the might of the Beeb. So Radio Caroline were driven out of the Essex waters in Frinton, equipment was stolen and then never seen for decades until fairly recently when they returned to the airwaves as a legitimate operation. Caroline are back on the air, their DAB digital status now well established.

But on 30th September 1967, when the dust had finally settled after all the turbulence out at sea, a young and fresh faced DJ by the name of Tony Blackburn sat in front of a microphone at BBC's now old Broadcasting headquarters in Portland Place, London and played the very first record on Radio 1. It was the Move's Flowers in the Rain, the first 45 rpm single that spun on a now obsolete and antiquated turntable that can only be recalled with a fond and nostalgic affection. Nobody had heard anything like it on British radio because the BBC had been trapped in something of an oppressive time warp, still besotted with its regular diet of old wartime dance band music and easy listening including the likes of Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Tony Bennett and Mario Lanza.

Suddenly, Tony Blackburn became one of the most listenable and recognisable voices on British radio. Blackburn had been signed up by otherwise wary and conservative figures such as the Director General who still believed that the ears of the public should always be caressed by those comforting crooners whose every word and lyric could be so easily heard. Besides, if it was good enough for the generation of Swinging London and dynamic Britain, then it was perfectly acceptable for the hipsters, beatniks and kaftan wearing Hippies who were now dominating the worlds of art and fashion.

Blackburn had been stolen from Radio Caroline along with a whole bunch of confident, enlightened, go ahead and wondrously enthusiastic disc jockeys such as the brilliantly talented John Peel. Peel would go on to introduce the late night slot on Radio 1 with his eclectic choice of  initially heavy rock music before embracing the punk revolution with his personal playlist of bands that were enormously grateful for  Peel's innovative approach to vinyl music.

Peel sadly died and, with him, went a knowledgeable audience who must have mourned his loss for ages. Then there was the late Terry Wogan and Jimmy Young, national treasures rightly and hugely admired, who started with Radio 1 but then moved over to a more sedate audience on Radio 2 who were accustomed to Slim Whitman, Jim Reeves, Andy Williams, Frank Ifield, Frankie Lane, Tom Jones and Lulu.

The contrast in styles could hardly have been more dramatic. Radio 1 were gearing themselves up to an entirely new kind of teenage audience who couldn't wait to hear the legendary Beatles, Sergeant Peppers, the Rolling Stones, Manfred Mann, the Who, the Troggs and the Monkees. Here was a breathtaking sea change in music radio, one that shook the cobwebs off the stuffy traditionalism of the old days.

There now followed by the jolly joviality of Ed Stewart, another recruit from pirate radio. Stewart, for many years, presented Junior Choice on a Saturday morning. Junior Choice was targeted predominantly at young kids who just wanted something light hearted and inoffensively enjoyable. Soon Sparky the Piano became Stewart's most popular vehicle and what followed were a succession of kids pop music singers and bands with requests for yet more children's favourites.

In later years, the equally as relaxed and laid back Simon Bates, the friendly Simon Mayo and Noel Edmonds would lead an impressive takeover at Radio 1, quite literally the changing of the guard. Edmonds was the epitome of cool and would be the perfect replacement for Tony Blackburn as Radio 1's pioneering breakfast show back in 1967. There was a now a real matiness between all of Radio 1's smooth operators. 

During the 1970s, Paul Burnett, David Hamilton and the inimitable Dave Lee Travis would be at the forefront of another breakthrough age for modern music. Travis was funny, irrepressible, anarchic at times quite possibly, passionate about his choice of music and then controversial at the end of his career with Radio 1. One Sunday morning Travis, disillusioned by the tempestuous politics he could quite clearly see behind the scenes, quit Radio 1 and left behind fans who were equally as incensed as Travis.

The tragic death of the great Steve Wright recently, left a vacuum on the radio. He had now left behind him a vast legion of fans and listeners who would never forget Wright's classical radio persona. Wright had the most infectious sense of humour and will always be remembered not only for the music he played but the characters who had joined him in the studio and that imaginative mix of showbiz gossip and glorious jingles.

For most of us though Radio 1 was the only station to listen to on a Sunday evening at tea time. After the warmly satisfying sound of Cliff Michelmore and Jean Challis at lunch time, Radio 2 handed over to Radio 1 on the family wireless airwaves. First there was the endearing Charlie Chester who always seemed to be permanently chirpy, chipper and upbeat on Radio 2 and then at tea time, the radio was switched to Radio 1.

Throughout most of the 1970s we delighted in the dulcet tones of Tom Browne, whose deep coffee scented voice, eased us into early evening. Now Radio 1 had found its station in life with a whole host of DJs who knew exactly what they were talking about and were never afraid to express their opinions. Briefly, the wildly inventive Kenny Everett simply tore up the rule book with his hilarious and extraordinary collection of crazy jingles. Everett was a force of nature and once made the comment that would lead to his high profile sacking. What seemed a perfectly innocent joke about a government Transport Minister's wife bribing her driving test examiner would send Everett packing.

And then there was the Radio 1 Roadshow during the 1970s. By now Radio 1 had gone well and truly alfresco, striking out onto the highways and byways and venturing out to some of Britain's most famous seaside resorts during the summer. Before long Dave Lee Travis, Noel Edmonds, Simon Bates, Paul Burnett and the marvellously magical Alan Freeman would be faced by massive crowds lining the throbbing promenades of Southend, Brighton, Blackpool, Bournemouth, Skegness, Great Yarmouth and a multitude of other seaside venues.

The late and much loved Alan Freeman would become installed as perhaps the finest and most accomplished DJ of them all. In Australia, Freeman had become a truly charismatic DJ and a presenter with a natural flair for the quickfire delivery, full of fast talking brilliance and superb charisma. For years Freeman occupied his very own Top 40 spot from both recent decades and many years gone by. It was the perfect chemistry, Freeman now a ball of energy, achieving just the right balance of accuracy and impeccable timing.

And so we move to the present day and Radio 1 in the here and now. Sadly, for some of us, this is the place where we leave behind every genre of music so beloved of those who were always around to cherish it. The golden age of glam rock was followed joyfully by Abba, the Bee Gees, Stevie Wonder, the Saturday Night Fever and Grease soundtrack, the Stylistics, the Carpenters, Tavares, George Benson, disco at its purest and most rewarding and the funky rhythms generated by the O Jays, the Detroit Spinners and the peerless jazz genius Herbie Hancock, a personal favourite and many more too numerous to mention.

By now, the conventional speeds of 33 and 45rpm were joined by an endless conveyor belt of 12 inch floor fillers in hundreds of clubs and nightclubs around the country. Radio 1 had captured the public's imagination in a way they could hardly have imagined possible in 1967. Now music has migrated to  Spotify and streaming territories, downloaded to our I Phones and instantly accessible. The Top 40 charts is still with us, much to our surprise, but no longer suitable or relevant to those of us who would prefer something that is immediately identifiable and relatable. We wanted something more restrained and, dare we say, more sophisticated in our estimation. But then we would say that, wouldn't we?

You remembered something your wonderful mum and dad used to remark on while we were listening to Radio 1. What a terrible racket they used to say, an unbearably raucous noise those singers were making. Why couldn't we understand the lyrics and how nonsensical it all was? But then of course we knew where our parents were coming from. Tony Blackburn represented a major change in our musical tastes when everything became groovy and much louder. Blackburn had all of the DJ blarney and banter, a far more energetic take on the craft of introducing records on the radio. Happy 57th anniversary Radio 1. You always knew how to entertain us during those formative years of school and  the BBC, always the last bastion of morality and the highest standards, always knew a good thing when they saw it.