Have I possibly uncovered a major cover up involving Nottingham council, the tram company, and the Theatre Royal? There is something very strange afoot and I am at a dead end trying to uncover it.

At some point in the early 1970s, John Inman (camp comic actor best known for his portrayal of Mr. Humphries in Are You Being Served?) planted a tree outside the Theatre Royal in one of those civic ceremonies where a visiting celebrity is asked to do something to make them look good. He would have been appearing in pantomime at the time, and little public relations jaunts like this are often employed to put bums on seats during the pantomime run. I assume that the removal was approved as part of the upheaval while laying the tramlines, but I can’t get this confirmed. This was going to be the main thrust of a short documentary film I wanted to get off the ground and produce independently. It was turned down by the BBC’s Inside Out programme, and I’m starting to see why given the wall of silence that surrounds it. There isn’t any record of it in the theatre’s archive, and the city centre library emailed me to say that they couldn’t find anything on it. Given that the library has an extensive newspaper archive going back to the 1800s, I find this whole episode rather suspicious.

The film was going to be called Whatever Happened to John Inman’s Tree? and would have entailed me talking to people who remembered the occasion, and talking to the theatre, the tram company, members of the council planning department, and various other people to ascertain why the tree was never replaced or replanted in a new location. The climax of the film would have been the staging of a ceremony to plant a replacement tree dedicated to the original tree planted by Inman all those years ago.

Nottingham Council have a history of making mistakes and generally showing a blatant disregard for the heritage of the area with no apology forthcoming for such crass mistakes as the demolition of The Blackboy Hotel, Victoria Train Station, and even the recent Odeon Cinema scandal. With a track record like that I’m surprised that the John Inman tree story is the one that warranted destroying the records.

A few years ago I was granted access to the records of every meeting that had taken place in the Council House (the name for what most places call the Town Hall, not an actual council house) for research purposes, but didn’t find anything about this subject. To be honest, I wasn’t actually looking for any details on John Inman or his tree at the time. What is telling though is that the theatre and the library are council owned, and they are telling me that no information exists, whereas my email to the council itself has remained unanswered. This goes deeper than I expected, why is this secret? John Inman was a popular comedian and one of the best pantomime dames to ever don a dress, as far as I know his life was scandal free. A quick read of his Wikipedia biography points to a prolific television and stage actor, keen golfer, and devoted partner to Ron Lynch; there isn’t a whiff of wrongdoing written about him. I could understand wiping it from the history books if it was Jimmy Savile for example, but not someone who hasn’t put a foot wrong. Maybe the council is hiding something sinister from the public after all? If this is an oversight then there is a chance for redemption for Nottingham Council, simply plant a tree for John Inman as a replacement.

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I haven’t bothered with Big Brother since the glory days, and have also totally ignored the ‘celebrity’ version. When Channel Four axed the series it was on its last legs so finished at the right time, on a round ten years worth. The whole thing was ruined when Channel Five (yes, it still exists) bought the rights and brought it back in the same year, thus ruining all Channel Four’s farewell programmes in one crass move. The writing was on the wall a few years ago when the tabloid papers stopped printing the full page grid of faces to cut out and keep and cross out on nomination night. The move to Channel Five was greeted with mass indifference due to the format being tired, Davina McCall no longer presenting, and the most vacuous forgettable housemates imaginable. Even the celebrity versions were a bit of a damp squib, not that they ever really contained real megastars of course but there were the occasional genius bookings; Bez, Germaine Greer, Jack Dee but apart from that the barrel was liberally scraped. There’s also the issue of putting people in whose only claim to fame is being a contestant on another show such as The X-Factor. This year’s Celebrity Big Brother had three people from Made In Chelsea, The Only Way Is Essex, and a runner up on The Apprentice involved. They did however secure a strong booking, not a superstar of course but a name guaranteed to have the press sharpening their knives ready to stick them in, Jim Davidson.

Known for his racist and sexist brand of standup comedy, Davidson has attempted to rehabilitate himself over the years and distance himself from his past. To be honest, I don’t personally think he is ‘a racist’ as such, just a throwback to a different era of comedian. Okay so no black man has ever spoken with that ridiculous ‘Chalky’ accent, but he has dismissed that side of his work and although he hasn’t apologised for it, I do feel that he knows that it isn’t acceptable these days. A couple of years ago he wrote and starred in the play Stand Up And Be Counted, which told the story of an old-school standup comedian known for racist humour being confronted by a young black comedian about his humour backstage at a comedy club. It was based on actual events and the co-star of the play was Matt Blaize, who had in real life responded to Davidson’s compliments on his set with a heartfelt tirade about how his childhood had been blighted by taunts from classmates using the Chalky ‘hello der man’ accent at him. This meeting more than anything else signaled the start of Jim Davidson’s rehabilitation project, promoting the tour by allowing himself to be taken to task for his old work. Of course he played the ‘but I’ve got black friends’ card, but that lost its currency when Bernard Manning used it in interviews before going on stage and using the N word for his baying audience.

When I lived in Teesside I met Royston Vasey, the man who pulls on a patchwork suit and a flying helmet to become Roy ‘Chubby’ Brown. There is a man who (no doubt like Manning, Davidson, and Jimmy Jones) comes with a preconceived idea about the sort of person he is. Sorry to shatter this illusion, but Vasey is a softly spoken old man with impeccable manners who in the brief time I spent with him never uttered so much as a ‘shit’. Although I never met (nor wanted to meet) Bernard Manning, people have said the same about him. However with Davidson I have always been under the impression that onstage and off, he would be the same odious prick you always thought he would be.

Last year he was due to take part in the show but was arrested as part of Operation Yewtree, but he carried on writing his blog throughout and maintained his innocence. He lost a year of earnings through legal battles to clear his name, which is probably an incentive to say yes to programmes like this.

Taking part in CBB has (so far, but then he has only just got out) proven to be a public relations masterstroke. I’m sure that the production company wanted him in so that he would say something homophobic or racist (despite trying to justify whatever he said with his own logic) and get a struggling franchise a shot in the arm as far as publicity is concerned. As Channel Five seems to be catering for tabloid newspaper readers, maybe someone like Jim Davidson couldn’t lose with viewers who wouldn’t know who Dappy was.

During his time in the house, apart from being a grumpy old git at times, he did do an admirable job on his reputation. He didn’t from what I saw say anything untoward (possibly learning his lesson from the loss of fee when he was kicked off Hell’s Kitchen for using the expression ‘shirt lifter’) and formed friendships with the members of the house. To further reinforce the whole ‘I’m not a homophobe’ shtick, he wore a face pack with the camp man from Made In Chelsea (indicative of modern celebrity I have already forgotten his name), didn’t allow a minute to pass without hugging the permanently half naked new best friend Dappy, and after his victory interview with Rylan Clarke he kissed him on both cheeks showbiz style.

The papers are now saying that Davidson is in talks to present a show for Channel Five. Given that he is friends with Richard Desmond, he could have probably done that anyway. Having listened to his podcasts (he’s only done a few so far) he can still say the wrong thing if he doesn’t engage his brain first, there have been a few ‘comedy’ accents so far, so a pre-recorded television show is a medium where he can’t fuck up. Big Break was his first real foray into family entertainment and it did really well, he tarnished this by ruining The Generation Game but I’m sure he could still cut it.

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Tonight was the media event of the year (a claim we’re backing up with the suffix ‘so far’ given that the year is only 29 days old) for the people of Nottingham, yet I was unable to share the celebrations as I was involved in making the event happen. This week’s edition of NottinghamLIVE was the first birthday show for us, so in true Trent Sound style all three of us presenters were late to the studio due to public transport problems. I can only assume that the reason for the gridlocked traffic was that everyone was dashing home to turn on their computers to tune in to the show, (our listening figures only register computers logged in to the website and not listening via a phone app so please consider that). I was the first to arrive at Trent Towers (not an actual tower) during the seven o’clock news and just had time to line up the first song, ‘Everything Beautiful Reminds Me Of You’ by Captain Dangerous – the first song we played on Wednesday 30^th January 2013 before the news ended.

All above photos © Steve Oliver

It was a four person team this week, as we were joined by Bainy. He founded Notts Live on Sherwood Radio before joining Trent Sound in 2011, giving me the perfect opportunity to make a joke about leaving a clueless Internet radio station with no money and no direction to join Trent Sound, the sad truth being that I have had that witty quip planned for about three weeks. All we are really doing is carrying on the good work of Notts Live, the show is about the Nottingham music scene and not about the presenters so it doesn’t matter who presents it. I am personally very proud of the fact that we are the only show of its kind (apart from Action Jackson on BBC Radio Nottingham, but he has had his day thanks to us) and an influential force to be reckoned with.

The Union was supposed to have been our live guests for the first show last year, but to add to our stress levels we didn’t have a sound engineer so they were unable to grace our performance room to mark the next chapter of the show. A year later and with a new name, Albion, they finally got the chance to perform one of our prestigious live sessions. It seemed fitting to have them on the birthday show, and they performed an acoustic set (two members of the band) in the second hour. Our other guest was Josh Wheatley (the second Josh of Nottingham music) who I invited in to plug his EP Follow the Smoke one day ahead of the launch gig. Josh appeared on the show in June last year and since then has continued to climb, his song ‘Sail Away’ contains my favourite line in a song; “I’m not that rich, I don’t have a boat, everything I own is in my coat”.

Group photos © Matt Stone

Despite the initial stress of being late to the studio, this was the most relaxed I have been during a show. After a year there’s a danger that we are getting good at this!

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The executive editor of the children’s television channel CBBC, Melissa Hardinge, makes the female presenters (the article name checks the presenters of a programme called Friday Download, me neither) remove red lipstick and generally tone it down so as not to look too sexy while on screen. That is about the gist of it, Hardinge is quoted as saying that sexualisation of girls is something they take seriously at the BBC. I’m not sure why this has suddenly become news to be honest, as many employers lay down a rudimentary dress code based on standards, but I can’t help thinking that Melissa Hardinge is wasting her time.

CBBC is the channel aimed at children up to teenage, which is why I am confused about what Hardinge’s problem is. The channel’s presenters aren’t underage, so she can’t be accused of anything too sordid here, and the sad fact is that while you are supposed to grow out of children’s television by about the age of thirteen (although we never really do), attractive presenters keep the audience hanging on a bit longer. Whether it’s a beer advert or children’s television, like it or not, sexiness sells.

Sex has always been used to encourage people to part with their money or to watch television. Is it exploitation or is it just one of those things? I don’t feel that the world really needs Miss World or game show ‘dolly birds’ for no real reason anymore, but it does work both ways. Nobody wants the Diet Coke adverts taken off the air because a bunch of women ogle the fit shirtless man, but we’re supposed to be anti-Page Three, a bandwagon I refuse to jump aboard for the simple reason that personal choice is at stake. I do not see a pair of breasts in my daily newspaper because I read The Independent and The Guardian, and that is the answer – vote with your choice of paper. If I ever find out that The Sun are involved in a human trafficking operation dedicated to dragging attractive women from the streets and forcing them in front of a camera with their tits out then I will change this opinion of course, but as far as I am aware, these women remove their bras out of choice and for a very hefty financial reward. Also, we have to face facts, boobs are wonderful things.

To return to the issue of children’s television, I haven’t had to watch CBBC or any other channel for quite some time now, but I seem to remember both sexes being very easy on the eye. Maybe this hasn’t always been the case (Noel Edmonds, Keith Chegwin and Mike Read were once the faces of Saturday morning television), but I’m sure that Phillip Schofield was just as fancied by the viewers as the lovely Sarah Greene was.

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I am pretty sure that I can’t be the only one who thinks this, but in my opinion it is never worth checking your emails at the weekend. Nobody important ever writes to you on Saturday and Sunday, which is why you should send important emails as close to nine o’clock in the morning as possible to ensure that the recipient finds it at the top of the inbox first thing on Monday morning. However, while at the studio yesterday I did that very thing while I was preparing the show as I needed to find a bit of information that I knew was in an email. Waiting for me was an email from BBC Radio Nottingham regarding a pitch that I had made a little while ago.

Some time ago I had an idea for a radio series that due to its nature was best suited for BBC Nottingham, and I emailed the presenter that would best be able to help. Today he replied to my email, and although he thought my idea a good one he pointed out that local BBC stations no longer have room for local content beyond their daytime shows, (you may have noticed that local BBC stations switches over to Radio Five Live at night to save money). This kind of thinking is absolutely disastrous to local radio, and indeed radio in general because radio needs innovators, it needs ideas, and it needs people to invent. Late night local radio used to be where you could find the phone in programmes, and where there’s phone in programmes there are nutters with ill-informed opinions. There are also people like myself who used to ring these programmes pretending to be a nutter to see how far I could push the poor presenter. In fact I once was so prolific a prank caller that my phone number (this was in the days before mobiles) was blocked by one station.

If you’ve ever been in a taxi you’ll know that Capital FM and Smooth Radio are the cabbie’s choice of station, and that these stations only own a small handful of CDs. There is nothing creative about local commercial radio and the presenters only have to turn up. When Capital Radio was a proper local station for London it was a place for creativity; Kenny Everett is the best example of a true radio innovator who quite simply would not be able to find a mainstream radio station to accommodate him these days, so he would have to either make podcasts (which let’s face it would be works of art) or go to Internet radio where he would be allowed to get on with it. Alexei Sayle is another one, his Capital show Alexei Sayle and The Fish People from 1981 wouldn’t get commissioned by a commercial radio station today, yet it remains an underground favourite with the odd clip on YouTube and various corners of the Internet.  

You could of course argue that local radio isn’t as relevant today as it once was. Back when Kenny Everett and Alexei Sayle were working on Capital you could only hear it in London, and someone on Piccadilly Radio in Manchester might have been treated like a superstar when walking through the city centre but would be just another face in the crowd in Liverpool where everyone was too busy spotting the Radio City DJ popping into the newsagents for a packet of fags. I was lucky enough to be living in Southend On Sea when Ricky Gervais was doing his Saturday afternoon show on XFM (back when XFM was a decent station). XFM was a London station that could reach to the Essex coast, but there wasn’t another way. Digital radio was just starting up, as was the availability of listening on the Internet, but way back in 2000 they weren’t that common (just as any programme on Sky during the first couple of years of broadcast will have only played to about ten people). The concept of local radio has eroded a little due to the fact that all FM stations are online fighting for attention from Internet radio. We presenters on Internet radio are lucky compared to our FM counterparts, as more of us are able to dictate what we play on our shows. Neither NottinghamLIVE nor The Sunday Alternative get any interference from management telling us what we can and can’t play which in turn makes our shows rather important. We get interference from management, but nothing to do with the music.

I happen to think that local media is important, which is why it is a crying shame that regional identity is eroding away in favour of big organisations. Capital Radio’s switch to national bland radio station Capital FM is a perfect example of what happens when you let the big guys trample through. It’s the same thing that is happening on the high street in a way; customer service and knowledgeable staff has been replaced by supermarkets staffed by idiots and bakeries have been replaced by Greggs, where everything is baked in a warehouse and warmed up in the shop.

With very little local brand identity in radio, local newspapers turning into pamphlets, and local television regions becoming bigger (Central Television and BBC East Midlands covering Leicester and Derby in addition to Nottingham for example), local media is gradually turning into a media version of Greggs; everything baked in a warehouse and warmed up in the shop.

NB: The radio pitch will now go ahead as a podcast.

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I took the above picture this afternoon in Hyson Green, what’s weird is that you could almost be forgiven for forgetting about some window stickers (assuming you aren’t in the habit of cleaning or looking out of your windows, they’re the main two things you do with them), but if you look closely you can see Christmas lights on in the flat. Maybe the flat belongs to Roy Wood from Wizzard and he is simply fulfilling his wish?

My usual hope that I am at the station by noon and able to set up my show in peace went a little bit better than it normally does, I arrived at half past twelve today having woken up at eleven and had a record breaking combination of preparation in a short space of time. It can be achieved by making your tea before getting in the shower so it has cooled sufficiently to drink when you get out before getting dressed and picking up the case that should have already been packed. It doesn’t always work like that, but all the signs today were pointing to a good show. Unfortunately I was without Gary again, but I was joined by Simon Waldram who I’d booked via Twitter to perform on the show.

Read all about the show here.

The above pictures were taken this afternoon when thankfully there was nobody looking to wonder why I was taking photographs of wheelie bins. It was in a fairly untidy looking part of Nottingham, not rough and dangerous but an area that looks unloved and in need of at least a coat of paint. I love the fact that the householder seemingly decided to make the best of a bad situation by attempting to brighten things up a little. Maybe everyone should do a little something to brighten up their surroundings?

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Mandi was on board the time-and-a-half train today, so I had a fairly easy morning of breakfast and a little bit of catching up in the office. I’d arranged to meet Mandi in town but didn’t want to take Jack because it would restrict us when it came to shopping and stopping somewhere for a drink. I took Jack over the park for an hour to tire him out (and empty him of course) and made my way to town to meet Mandi for two o’clock. After a bacon cob and a cuppa we did a bit of shopping and had a general Saturday meander around town.

I was interested to see this poster in the Victoria Centre branch of Pulp. It is obviously a homage to the Sex Pistols album Never Mind The Bollocks, (Pulp sell music related t-shirts and merchandise), but it is a little disappointing that the shop (or possibly Victoria Centre) didn’t see fit to display the word ‘bollocks’, especially when you consider how this particular piece of punk history took place right here in Nottingham. According to punk rock butter salesman John Lydon, the phrase is working class slang for ‘stop talking nonsense’ or whatever. The Metropolitan Police were already going around London threatening branches of Virgin Records (RIP) under the 1899 Indecent Advertisements Act if they didn’t remove the offending posters from their windows. Chris Seale was the manager of the Nottingham branch of Virgin Records who was arrested for continuing to display the title, (I wonder where he is now) and Richard Branson covered Seale’s legal costs and brought in John Mortimer the renowned barrister and author of Rumpole of the Bailey to fight the Virgin corner. It was on the 24^th November 1977 that the case was heard at Nottingham Magistrates Court, during which Mortimer rang rings around everyone. He cited police discrimination and asked why The Guardian wasn’t on trial for displaying the word in newspaper stories relating to the case. Eventually, he proved that the word ‘bollocks’ was an Old English word originally referring to a priest, and that the band were using the word as an expression of nonsense. With that historic legal fracas taking place in Nottingham, it would have been fun to see what would have happened if Pulp had displayed the actual word instead of a censored version.

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As we approach the end of the first month of the year, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed in myself for not having made a start on some of the none-radio projects that I had intended. Radio has once again taken over once again which doesn’t really matter as I enjoy radio the most of all. The Sunday Alternative has improved since it was moved to lunchtimes, (for me at least, and for the viewers of Sherlock who were able to watch it live rather than wait until the show had finished), and I have a renewed enjoyment of it.  Having said that, I can’t honestly say what the future holds for the show. Although I enjoy it I’m wary of the fact that I do lose out on quite a bit of the so-called day of rest, and once I start working I am going to need a filming day and time for writing and developing new ideas.

Talking of radio, the live sessions for the American show have reached a bit of a dead end unfortunately. This is a pity as they were gathering momentum and were generating a great deal of interest from the artists; it’s just finding a studio at the moment.

Due to a problem with the recording studio programme on my computer, I was unable to record this week’s edition of The Sound of Nottingham UK. They were cool about it and said they would put out a repeat from one of the library of 74 shows. I didn’t really want to miss a show this year as I made a few holes last year, but hopefully things will be up and running for next week. Another crowd-funding campaign for later in the year is going to be an attempt to raise the money to fly to Connecticut and actually present the show live from their studio. To make an occasion out of it I’d take a couple of bands with me and maybe another radio presenter, and try and get a gig on the Friday night before doing a live show on the Sunday afternoon slot (the show is broadcast on Friday nights and repeated on Sunday afternoon so I would record a show especially for Friday). I would make sure that the whole thing was filmed and recorded for future release, as it would be a great little adventure for a selection of Nottingham music makers to embark on.

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I have found a ‘day job’, that didn’t take long really. I’m not starting for a couple of weeks and I also don’t know how much I should say about it, suffice to say it is for the government (yes really). It isn’t some kind of spy work, it is a pretty normal job structure-wise; Monday to Friday, 9am-5pm with time-and-a-half if I volunteer to go in on a Saturday.

My radio work won’t suffer too much as a result of this, although what it does to the rest of my plans for the year remains to be seen. There might also be an effect on the blog too, although as it’s a secretive sort of job then I won’t be able to report on the day to day aspect. The filming will be moved to just Saturdays and Sundays if possible, I’ve grown used to working on a Sunday after all (and that’s without being paid double time) so it won’t make much difference.

To help speed up the raising of finance to get the first few film projects off the ground, I experimented with a KickStarter account. I set it up with one particular project in mind and started to fill in all the right forms. I got all the way to the end of the process and it told me that I was missing something from the form. By this time I had grown sick of it and deleted the whole account, nothing is worth that much pissing about. There must be other ‘crowd funding’ sites that work in the same way, so I was do some investigation before putting my flag down. The rewards system is a little strange in that you have to give away some kind of incentive to encourage more donations. As the filmed pieces are going to be made available for free on the Internet there isn’t really anything that springs to mind as a prize.

With regards the film about The Sunday Alternative, I think I have come up with some good incentives. Wait and see what I have to offer when the project goes live on Indie-Go-Go.

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My radio/pork scratching treat might have come to an end tonight, as I bought four packets to take to Trent Towers (not an actual tower) and was fed up of them by the end of the second bag. I persevered with the third bag but gave in and put the fourth bag in the cupboard for Sunday, if nobody else steals them that is. It is quite an easy thing (I imagine) to choke on a pork scratching, which is what a thief would deserve.

There was a happy atmosphere in the studio, despite the fact that it was Mike Atkinson’s final show with us. He hasn’t been with us very long but has proved a valued member of the team with his monthly appearances. To mark the occasion we gave him full control of the show rather than the final hour, with a full playlist of his choosing and even the booking of this week’s live music guest. In fact there wasn’t a great deal for Darren and me to do other than keep chipping in every now and again, whether Mike wanted our input or not. Cassia was on hand to do the gig guide of course, which we did in the first hour out of a slight necessity as not one of Mike’s chosen tracks had been uploaded. It turns out that he hadn’t been added to the Dropbox system when Trent Sound changed it. The only course of action was for me to download them from an email he sent me earlier and add them myself. This put us all on edge a little, but we soon got ourselves back into the swing of things. Besides, it wouldn’t be NottinghamLIVE without something going wrong, better it happen right at the start of the show. Perhaps we should instigate a listener drinking game where everyone has to take a shot whenever either one of us presenters or the computer system fucks up? Thursdays would be interesting with nobody in Nottingham in a fit state to go to work after that.

Mike’s musical picks ran through a potted history of Nottingham music, going through the genres with the knowledge and wit that got him invited to become a regular contributor to the show in the first place. To mark the occasion, I went through my archive and found the Christmas 2011 edition of Leftlion, the one with everyone connected to the scene (at the time), on the front cover. I wanted him to point himself out as I couldn’t find him, so we all did a picture of ourselves pointing to ourselves.

All above photos © Steve Oliver

Both Kane Ashmore and I were aware of each other but couldn’t say for sure if we had actually met each other before. It’s a funny situation sometimes as you can say a very quick hello to someone at a gig but immediately forget who he or she is, or even worse you see him or her again and think they are someone else. I knew for a fact that I had not met Rebecca King in person, but as is the way these days, we ‘knew’ each other thanks to Facebook and Twitter. When I haven’t met the guests before, I’m always a little wary as I am (honestly) very shy around people that I don’t know. Thankfully they both turned out to be really nice people so I was able to relax, especially as a ‘do you remember?’ type conversation sprung up about children’s television. Rebecca had brought her young son (two years old if I remember correctly) with her so she joined Kane for one song during the set. They aren’t a duo so it didn’t matter too much; in fact Rebecca’s involvement was a bonus feature really as Kane was the booking. The live session was four songs long, and as it was his swansong show, Mike took Kane into the broadcast studio for the brief interview/chat.

As we entered the third and final hour, Mike continued with his choice of tracks from Nottingham past and present. There’s a lot of songs there, so now I have the collection saved to my computer which will be good for The Sound Of Nottingham UK as I like to chuck a few oldies in there for a totally different audience.

All above photos ©Matt Stone

I used to keep the archive of NottinghamLIVE shows, but when I lost shitloads of files when my old laptop died I couldn’t be bothered to try and find them all again. Now I just record the live sessions for my library, but tonight I made an exception and recorded the whole thing as it was an important part of the history of not only the show (one show away from our anniversary), but of the Nottingham music scene as a whole.

You can relive Mike’s final show here.

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We had another excitement filled meeting at Trent Sound Towers (not an actual tower) this evening, this time in the company of the station’s owner. A few of us presenters got together last week in town to attempt to make some sense of what is going on with the station and what we can do to try and stem the flow of financial difficulty surrounding it. The best idea we could come up with was a benefit gig to raise funding for it, featuring the cream of Nottingham music who of course all owe us a favour or two in return for all the support they have received from us. Other ideas involved serious issues such as carrying adverts for the first time, we can attach them to either side of the news and bring down the length of the ‘radio hour’ from fifty eight minutes to fifty. Our major problem seems to be the fact that the station we work for now isn’t the same station that Trent Sound was originally intended to be. Trent Sound was born out of the need for a ‘proper’ local radio station following the demise of Trent FM (formerly Radio Trent). There is an online station called Radio Trent that deals in the nostalgic element of the old station and features ‘legendary’ (to be read in a sarcastic voice) presenters from the good old days of Radio Trent proper. The problem is that this station isn’t real, it is a collection of pre-recorded and voice tracked shows presented as if they were live and as such they are cheating their listeners (assuming they have any). The second problem is that they are based in Sheffield, or it could be Chesterfield, either way they are not what they say they are at all. It makes sense to let them have their silly little nostalgia trip, especially as the people who listened to the station back in the olden days are unlikely to listen to online radio. The granny demographic (great name for a band) are well catered for with oldies stations on FM radio, so for Trent Sound to be chasing the old days of Radio Trent is pointless. We recently lost the services of veteran broadcasters Len Groat and Andy Marriot, which severs the ties to the past, so now the station should be looking out for today. Nottingham is a city full of creativity and we should be embracing that and reflecting it from the station, especially as Trent Sound is regarded as one of the best in Nottingham.

As loved as we are though, the station is struggling to keep its head above water. Our meeting was to try and put something together to present to the controller at a later date. I was having a text exchange with one of our number today about the possibility of taking it over ourselves, emphasizing the well-worn method of the one pound buyout. This of course involves taking over all the financial responsibility which could cause problems somewhere down the line.

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I’ve been working on the first two big projects of the year just lately, and both are going to put me in front of the camera which I am not as comfortable with as radio. Maybe that’s because radio allows the listener to use their imagination, or maybe it’s because I prefer a microphone to a camera. We all know that radio is better than television don’t we? Technically it isn’t television, it’s the Internet, but it’s in front of a camera all the same, and it’s only on the Internet because it’s far easier to decide to put something online than it is to wait to be asked to put it on television. One is a one-off documentary that will go on YouTube as a standalone video, probably on my very little used official account. The other is a series of short videos that have their own dedicated channel.

A proposed podcast series has caused me to stop and consider my actions, as it could be quite easily pitched to BBC Radio Nottingham as a small strand in an already existing show. If they did accept it I would of course also be paid for it, not megabucks I imagine but enough to justify making it in the first place. At the end of every podcast I record (since the second series of LP Box and in all of my Moonage Daydream shows) I point people to the PayPal button that sits atop this blog, and although it gets a few good clicks, it isn’t ever going to make the amounts that I need so the possibility of taking some money is useful. I’m not ultimately interested in personal profit to fund a yacht and a solid gold house; I’m more interested in full creative control and being able to share my work with the world. Having said that, I still need to eat! Of course if the BBC turn this idea down, I will carry on regardless and make it as a podcast as I believe in the idea.

As I mentioned yesterday, today is apparently Blue Monday, the most depressing day of the year. The post-Christmas gloom is at an all time high, and basically we are all sick to death of it all. I find this flippant reference to depression a little offensive given that depression is a very real illness that I and millions of other people have to live with, but I suppose we need something to tie to this particular day and the word ‘blue’ is often associated with glumness. January is always a bit of a bollock really, so we should be encouraged to be as wreckless as possible. If we’re all suffering from the post-Christmas gloom, then why the hell are people detoxing? January should be the exact opposite; drink more, smoke, eat whatever you like, and do nothing more physically exerting than walking to the kitchen for more snacks. Start your good intentions in February; it’s a shorter month so it makes sense.

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As much as I like to monitor the amount of Christmas decorations on display until January 6^th, I find it a bit grim when you spot traces of the festive season once Christmas is over and done with. The occasional little trace is perhaps acceptable, as you can give the benefit of the doubt and assume it to be an oversight. However, the above picture displays more than a little trace, more of a crashing blunder.

Bulwell on Sunday is almost like how Sundays used to be, apart from the fact that most of the shops are open. To give a younger person a history lesson on how a town centre used to look on a Sunday, you could take them to see what Bulwell looks like. The weather didn’t really help the grim emptiness of the place this afternoon, (I assume that a large part of the town were at home listening to their proudest boast – that their town is the home of Nottingham’s only independent local radio station – and enjoying an eclectic blend of music (music you don’t hear on the radio, on the radio) and of course an excellent live session from City Of Kites) but it really was a ghost town today. That is aside from the people who appeared out of nowhere every time I attempted to take a picture of the Christmas tree, (I was aware that people might think me strange for wanting to do such a thing on the 19^th of January, and if Bulwell thinks you’re strange you have got problems). To be walking along that precinct on a wet Sunday afternoon with the wind whistling its way towards you is bad enough, but the addition of an out of date Christmas tree gives the town a look of desperation and decay.

As I took the tram to my dad’s house for Sunday lunch, I started throwing around my head the basis for a song titled ‘Christmas in Bulwell’. Unlike the usual Christmas song though, it is set in the middle of January when things have returned to normal; you know what day it is, you get your bills in, you are in the midst of a ‘five week month’ because you get paid early before breaking up for the Christmas holiday, you have been back at work long enough so that Christmas seems a distant memory, and you are generally feeling fucked off with life. Tomorrow is apparently the most depressing day of the year; Blue Monday, good idea for a song title!

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photo from Windy's Cafe Facebook

We haven’t been out for breakfast on a Saturday for ages now, simply because getting out of bed on Saturday is a bit of a challenge. Small cafes closing just after lunchtime during the week is fair enough, as they open at around five or six in the morning and cater mainly for workers having breakfast and lunch. However, on a Saturday there is no need to close at two o’clock, and it is called the ALL DAY breakfast so why can’t we eat it all day? Who manages to get up and out by two o’clock on a Saturday anyway? Besides, Saturday is now my whole weekend as I work on Sunday, (don’t feel sorry for me, I do it out of love).

I should get back into the swing of having a Saturday fry-up though, as I recently came across a café in Skegness doing a challenge of a breakfast; 12 bacon, 12 sausages, 6 eggs, 5 black pudding, 4 hash browns, a four egg and cheese omelette, sauté potatoes, mushrooms, tomatos and baked beans. The downside is that it also comes with four slices each of bread and butter, fried bread, and toast, and that is a lot of bread. In stages, it looks fairly easy. Twelve slices of bread isn’t a lot to eat on its own, neither is 12 rashers of bacon, but put the whole thing together and suddenly you have a task ahead of you. The omelette and potatoes will also make you fill up quickly.

After a bit of research (Googled it) I found that the café in question is near my old house, and now I know its location I can remember it being a rather nice place with good food. That said, I haven’t lived in Skegness since 1993 so maybe there are new owners. I am definatley up for taking this challenge, and will be planning a trip to the seaside in the summer. I’m wondering about making a little video diary of the occasion and including a wander around the Skegness of my childhood (not a particularly happy period but for some reason there are a lot of good memories in there too); school, my old family home, places where I used to go with my friends such as the arcades, beach, pier, TC’s nightclub (a bit later in my life) and trying to find out if the band Charlie Don’t Surf are still together.

I’ve even worked out a tactical way around the plate so that you can easily win the challenge. The heavy bread element will have to wait until the end of the meal, as it will fill you up straight away. When you break it down, there are ten ‘groups’ and with 45 minutes to clear your plate you have four and a half minutes on each item. You spend four minutes eating one particular item, and regardless of whether you have finished or not, you move on to the next item and spent four minutes on that. By the time you have worked your way through every item, you will have five minutes left to clear up. Actually, the beans and tomatoes are in separate bowls, so you could save them until the end and then drink them down.

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I hit a bit of a productivity roller-coaster today, by powering through the morning doing all sorts of things only to go and ruin it by breaking for lunch and watching several episodes of The Simpsons with Jack. He’d already been for quite a long run around the park this morning, but for the sake of getting away from the telly I took him for a walk around the block for a toilet opportunity (him, I go before leaving the house).

For the last few weeks I have been recording The Sound of Nottingham UK on a Thursday as it puts me under less pressure. I assume that it gets listened to before broadcast, so I like to get it in nice and early. When I record it on a Thursday I have the luxury of time to be able to fuck things up and start again, before sending it over the Atlantic and starting the weekend. There have been occasions when I feel as if I am fighting against the clock, although technically the show doesn’t air for the first broadcast of the weekend until four o’clock on Saturday morning UK time, but if I send it in plenty of time then I know they have time to download it from my email and load it into the system. When I record it on a Friday it always feels stressful, and today was no exception. Jack has taken to following me into my office and making himself comfortable on a pile of coats (my office is also a storage room/dumping ground containing shoes, handbags (Mandi’s), books, records, CDs, press releases, boxes of Christmas decorations, DVDs, video tapes, files, receipts, and other such hoardings), which is fine until a neighbour’s cat appeared at the windowsill prompting a round of barking at the exact moment I had turned my microphone on. I managed to get him calmed down to record the show properly, but he didn’t take his eyes off the window the whole time so I was on edge knowing that if the cat was feeling confident I’d have to start again.

Thankfully the cat had learned a lesson and Connecticut gets to enjoy another bout of Nottingham’s finest musical offerings.

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Any money donated to the PayPal account above will be put to good creative use, find out more here.