I’ve spent the last couple of nights listening to BBC Radio 1
, loudly, on a powerful stereo, with the bass on full.
Yes I know, it’s probably something to do with a late life crisis, like getting my motorcycle licence recently.
There’s a surprising amount of good music coming out of the ‘kids’ station. Yes, some of it is dire, irritating and shouty, and some of the mixing is overdone, but like most stations it plays good and bad. I find it rewarding to expose myself to fresh material now and again.
But the most surprising thing about R1 is the quality of the Disc Jockeys. It would seem that to qualify as an R1 DJ, one must first have a particular irritating and unattractive voice and talk in an unrecognisable and extreme variation of a regional accent such as Jafakan, at a speed that requires extreme concentration from the listener. However, should you be prepared, as I was, to concentrate and listen, you’ll be rewarded with a stunning realisation.
They talk utter gibberish.
Tony Blackburn and Dave Lee Travis were inclined to witter on a bit but they would turn in their graves at today’s lot. (were it not for the fact that those elder masters of pop, aren’t actually dead yet)
With such a poor command of English, it’s surprising they can get any kind of job without being Eastern European crop pickers, let alone a prestigious well paid one.
I’ve never heard anyone talk like this, it’s some kind of Ali G parody.
Take the title.
“Nu’n bu’ big t’ins comin’ a’cha.”
That was one of the few lines I understood. The rest seemed to employ words you won’t find in any dictionary or words in inappropriate contexts (or vice verca) , grammar from another planet and an absence of content in favour of style (or should that be stylee). Who really want’s to know that Sharon has texted in to say she’s painting her toe nails with her friend Karen?
Worse still, being the BBC, there aren’t any adverts, so the gibber seems endless.
So if any Radio One MC’s are reading this.
Just shut up and play something!