Away Times = Happier Times

I haven't written here for a long time.

But I feel very lost.

My happy place is when I am not at home, on my beach weekends away
on my own, with specially assembled playlists for the train journeys and lengthy
walks, and recreating nights in front of the television from thirty years ago, in the hotel.




From Cromer, to Llandudno, those special times are what I long for.

But the rest of the time at home I feel very lost and frustrated.

It isn't possible to fall back into older habits because they'll serve as a reminder
of that not so happy place I was in before.

Radio was that big interest, but that withered away. I can't even be bothered to
have it switched on at home, as it slows my day down.

I don't even get excited about any of the bands and musicians I used to go
and see perform live.

Honestly, how many times can Incognito carry on re-releasing
their album every two years?

And I used to be a massive fan.

Maybe I just grew out of it.

Not a massive enough of a fan to think that
them and other similar acts I used to love, could do no wrong.

Well maybe not doing wrong, but doing right doesn't mean doing the same thing 
over and over again.

If the opportunity for a visit away from home but to be with family comes up
I want it to be as short as possible.

It's a mental strain to try and be "on" when
they want me to, because if it's a day or even longer that they want me to be with
them, that causes stress and leads me to saying what they don't want to hear.

And in pleasing other people, I find myself becoming more frustrated.

The idea that you become better and more calmer at coping
with age is complete bollocks.

But finding the equilibrium in being happy, and other people being happy is
tiring, and barely worth pushing, unless there are other ways?...

A Mid-Life Music Crisis?

It's some sort of myth that you have to hold on to your passions, for life.



Many years ago the energy was still in me to project that passion
for soul and jazz music over Canterbury's airwaves.

Nowadays if probed in on either subjects, I would be likely to ask,
"What's an Ezra Collective?"

On attempting to understand the hype around the Mercury Prize winning act,
all I can hear is carnival music.

Nothing that I haven't heard before, or something I have heard done better.

But that's the thing, hype.

It's a long time since I was just barely enthusiastic about anything new,
which may explain why I am still leaning towards LPs by Joni Mitchell,
Dusty Springfield, or Laura Nyro soundtracking autumnal sunsets.

Or when the weather's a lot warmer, Azymuth, Steely Dan, late 80s Tears
For Fears, Soul Asylum, or almost any single or album released in 1967,
pretending I lived through a time when pirate radio ruled, in an age
where there were no digital distractions.

In no way however would I wish for Big L and other such stations
to return to the airwaves.

Listening to crackly old recordings beggars the question,
without the music, and Dallas-sung jingles, isn't it just a load of men
talking complete bollocks, and sharing in-jokes that only they find funny?

The latter may still exist in present day radio with regards to a listener
feeling as if they're eavesdropping on a party they haven't been invited to.

There was one week in the last month where I barely switched on
my radio full-stop.

Liza Tarbuck on holiday, "I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue", not back until
the summer,  and 6 Music, which used to be an enjoyable listen,
now obsessed with "curators" and indie bands from the 90s
attempting to make desperate comebacks.

One such occasion finding myself myself mistaking a live performance
by Suede, for what sounded more like a Suede tribute band.

The radio veteran Trevor Dann recently said that in an age of streaming,
a radio presenter (sorry, "curator") can play the part of a "trusted guide"
introducing you to new music.

But with "new" seemingly the present day replacement for whether music
is any good or not, it's safe to say that there's nobody I can trust anymore.

Waiting two or three hours to hear a "winner" when you would be lucky
to hear just one song that would barely scrape a bronze medal.

I would love to be proved wrong on that thought, but as of present
am still in need of a lot of convincing.

Read by Robin, in '23

It would have been tempting to name this blog post "Books Of The Year",
but went against it for fear of Simon Mayo's book-related podcast issuing a writ.

And the fact that the producer of said pod has written a book himself.

"Art Is Everywhere" - by Joe Haddow, illustrated by Elle Hawes



As far back as first meeting as radio students at Westminster University
it was more than evident that Joe Haddow was a bit more cultured
than most of the other classmates.

Actually, a lot more.

The boundless enthusiasm for theatre, dance, and reading ever-present then,
now brought to life in a book aimed at 7-11 year olds but accessible for any
reader, along with amazing illustrations making the written word look as
if it's being said out loud.

A potential magnet for anyone who doesn't pick up a book that often,
so it had me drawn in from the outset.

Bright attention-grabbing front covers also happen to be a mainstay of this
anticipated read.

"Reach For The Stars" by Michael Cragg



AKA "The Pop Bible"*. Music journalist Michael Cragg assesses
what has now become as treasured an era for pop music
as the decades that preceded it, and possibly the last as intoned
by the sub-title "Pop's Last Great Party".

Yet the book's biggest gift is that of sending you off on many different spirals,
which in this case is all the fault of contributor Peter Robinson
the man behind the Popjustice website.

Where a brilliant blog on the state of pop in 2006 spiralled itself towards
TV shows that escaped one's radar first time round, showcasing the 
inability to jump, let alone land on the bandwagon of boyband
back-togethers as ignited by Take That around that time. 

MTV's "Totally Boyband" and the East 17 Reunion being two such hilarities.

That said, "Rock Steady" by All Saints is still a gem.

"The Dreams We Had As Children" by Ben Baker



When ITV closed it's CITV Channel in September this year, social
media was dominated by an outpouring of grief from grown-up children
in their 30s and 40s.

Many of them probably hadn't even set eyes the channel which on launching
in 2006, was living off a brand that like many declining high street stores
had seen better days.

Unlike ten years earlier, the channel doing nothing to mark 40 years
of the CITV brand, may have said more about ITV not only wanting
to ditch children's programmes, but refusing to acknowledge
they'd ever made any full stop.

Which is why it's left to enthusiasts such as Ben Baker, whose book lists
40 shows from 40 years of Children's ITV from Dangermouse to Dave Spud.

A book I loved so much, I wanted to chat with the author to delve further,
and the idiotic results (mine not Ben's) can be heard below.

RobinBlamires · CITV And Me - A Chat with author Ben Baker

Here's hoping for more enjoyable reads in '24, and hope from everyone else
that I may actually read a work of fiction.

*(C)The “Right Back At Ya” podcast

The Blamires Book Club - Melodic Reads

A few words, on lengthy rewarding reads about popular music
of differing styles and time periods.
Starting with a recent debut-album anniversary milestone. 

50 Visions Of Kate Bush - by Tom Doyle

Not a conventional biography, but possibly why this volume of anecdotes
on the ethereal, yet down to earth performer was able to suck one in
right from the opening chapter.

Opening in September 2005, the author Tom Doyle then writing
for MOJO magazine given a rare interview opportunity with Kate Bush
in her Berkshire abode, ahead of the release of her nervously-awaited "Aerials" LP, and the singer doesn't hold back, or give off any false pretences as prompted by
lesser journalists over her reclusive nature.

All worthy chapters, which despite the singer's open inability with mathematics,
matches the same number as her words for snow.

A interview transcript from "Swap Shop" is the focus of one, a few laughs raised
on Doyle referring to the "musical crimes"of Johnny Pearson's Top Of The Pops orchestra. Of whom Bush was one of many singers, forced to sing to their
play-by-ear arrangements, and indecisive time signatures.

Though Doyle is even more scathing towards the host of Swap Shop's successor
"Saturday Superstore" of which Bush was a guest on the launch show
interviewed (in a loose sense of the word) by Mike Read.

Despite not penned by Bush herself, it's hard not to come away
from the book knowing of her better and loving her even more.

Another chapter draws towards the rivalry between two of her inspirations,
David Bowie and Elton John.

Bowie somewhat incensed as to how "Rocket Man" may have 'taken influence'
from "Life On Mars", whereas Reg counters with the thought of Bowie wanting
to ape Judy Garland, "Starman" influenced by Garland's signature song
from "The Wizard Of Oz".

Though the rainbow song itself prompted a wild-goose-chase after reading
the below offering;

"Let's Do It" - The Birth Of Pop by Bob Stanley

A prequel no music fan knew they needed. Following and preceding the brilliant
"Yeah Yeah Yeah", that charted the history of modern pop, this volume gives
a concise and witty assessment of the popular song over the first half
of the 20th century.

Highlighting the off-colour origins of wartime songs such as "Bless 'Em All"
and "Do Your Ears Hang Low?", yet it was a dissection of the aforementioned
"Over The Rainbow" that lead to the realisation that the arrangement
that stuck in mind from an early age, wasn't by Garland as such,
but the Scottish session singer Jean Campbell who back in the 1960s
recorded covers of pop songs under the name Joan Baxter.

By the end of the 80s, it wasn't the singles of Stock Aitken and Waterman, that
were soundtracking home-life (save for weekly viewings of Top Of The Pops), 
but the nursery rhymes from Early Learning Centre cassette tapes.

Of which Joan Baxter rounded one of them off with a soothing-if-synthy rendition
of "Over The Rainbow" and on recently re-discovering it after over 30 years,
a reminder that maybe those early years living in London might not have
all been as heady as remembered.

But all the more special in how a book can result in audio adventures
further-stretched from how the author may have intended.

As for changing perspectives on past recollections, the final read does just that
for what may not have been a pleasant growing-up period at the time.

Freak Like Me - by Malcolm McLean



A front cover being a near-nod to the brash logo from Chris Cowey's tenure
producing Top Of The Pops, it's an invitation for anyone who grew up in the
late 90s/early 00s to reminisce, and if the recent S Club 7 reunion is to go by,
an era that's become more fondly remembered with age.

Certainly enough to forgive Jo O'Meara's behaviour in the Big Brother house...

Memoirist Malcolm McLean delivers a coming-of-age tale spanning
from when Louise left Eternal to when Hear'say packed it in, and how
getting close to pop performers made a tough growing-up period relatively less-so.

And a further insight into how fickle the world of pop was
during that heady time period.

A more-than-easy-read, helped by song titles from that era,
(and the odd song lyrics) subtly submerged into the many paragraphs
that on re-reading, immersed a few titters.

The writing and publishing processes probed further on McLean's
guest appearance on the "Creatives Of Habit" podcast.

Not to mention further wild-goose chases, via the many bands
and singers forgotten since the 90s.
Skimming through McLean's Youtube channel, is a treat in itself re-discovering
Deetah and Alda, both staples of my younger sister's cassette player.

An honest and moving insight, and quite possibly a warm up to what may be
the most anticipated book about music this year, spanning roughly the same
time period, "Reach For The Stars" by Michael Cragg.

If Bob Stanley himself has given it the good word, it may be even better
than all the above books.

2022 - Opening Up and Embracing Autism

2022.

The year I (almost) ditched my radio aspirations and remembered
how to be happy again.

More importantly, being able to enjoy radio as a listener again,
where for 18 months beforehand, it was only switched on for either Liza Tarbuck,
or “I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue”.

I should have recognised the signs years ago,

They’re even written here on earlier blog posts.

Getting psychiatric help made sense of not just the last five years,
but being able to process the last thirty five years.

As well as the realisation of no longer wanting to move back to London,
and genuinely being able to embrace my autism.

And maybe why Audio (and everything else) is looking far more positive.

Was never a genuine winner.

Attending the Audio Production Awards in November was really encouraging,
in that a life part-spent in audio could be more a friendship
than the failing relationship radio became in the last five years.

My best friend Sandie from Folded Wing helped me realise that friends
don’t have to be in each others pockets all the time.



And I wish there were more Sandies. More nicer, genuine,
caring people near to where I live.

Maybe there are more than I think...

But I haven’t burnt any bridges. That’s the worst thing anyone could do.

I may no longer have the mental energy to present my own show again,
but in terms of attending industry events and meeting other people in radio,
there's still hope and other ways of letting that passion emerge.

Not every day is easy to handle, and you can never plan how you are going
to feel in advance. Though there are other positives.

Namely goings on outside of audio, such as the Noel’s House Party at 30 website,
which this year has gone further than I ever imagined.

Though that’s all down to co-writers Jon and Brendan, and if you’re reading,  
you’ve both done me proud with your amazing interviews.

I have also produced a follow-up of sorts to my Radio 4 appearance
with family friend Concha, and delightful as it is, I'm hoping it's
a warm up to something even more special.

As come 2023 it will be 10 years since I recorded my bipolar podcast
at Folded Wing and have it in the running to produce one last audio adventure
with the amazing and delightful company founder Karen P. 

She must get it all from Sandie. No nicer person.

And no better place, than at the Wing's new home in Leigh-on-Sea.

Which happened to get a name check right at the end
of a very early Essex Radio jingle...

Wishing a happy '23 to you and thanks for reading through this garble.

Which admittedly I love writing.

Much love.

"What I've Enjoyed Viewing And Listening" - Autumn '22

The first in a series of blogs noting little things found online that have brought some sort
of short-term happiness at an otherwise uncertain time.

Starting with something both audio and visual from New Zealand.



Suzy Cato may not be a name familiar to anyone on home shores. In fact her only real exposure on British television may be via one or two appearances on "It'll Be Alright On The Night".

But in her homeland of New Zealand, she is loved by a generation of viewers
who grew up with her special way of presenting on the pre-school series "You And Me"
and the science series "Suzy's World". A way of talking to the viewer that may or may not have influenced Miss Hoolie in Balamory.

A couple of years ago, inspired by a slightly off-colour rendition of her "See You Later"
song (with nailed East London accents!) Suzy made a guest appearance on urban radio station Flava with vocal trio Sol3Mio

The sense of excitement to the point of being close-to-tears, definitely evident from the presenters.

And with Suzy’s New Years’s Eve-on-the-radio anecdote, a possible hint of where she may have crafted her interpersonal presenting style.

For further evidence of how loved she is in her homeland, Suzy's appearance on New Zealand's "Masked Singer" dressed up as a tui.

The Talent Factory: Inside The Music Machine (BBC Sounds)

A subject matter covered not for the first time on the Sounds app, as an insightful
series from BBC Radio 4 "Unreal" probed talent shows as part of its own history of British reality TV.

This series from Radio 1 however is free of the unnecessary/unfunny asides from the presenters,
with the delightful Amelia Lily introducing revealing insights and interviews evident
right from the first episode.

Stories from X Factor contestant Niki Evans, and Pop Idol series 1 finalist Zoe Birkett,
revealing how her ambitions to be a soul singer were pushed to one side when releasing
an incredibly generic debut single.

Slightly more memorable than that from Rosie Ribbons, mind...

Am already looking forward to the rest of the series, though am a bit slack at setting aside
times to listen.

VHS UK TV Junctions (July 1989)

                                

It's no secret that I am obsessed by old British television presentation, idents and ads,
stashing a number of them to watch at the hotels stayed at on beach weekends away.

Even more exciting if they come as compilations, not least the above snapshot of 
the warmer months of 1989. A fondly remembered period my end but can never work out why.

Highlights include the intro to an episode of "MacGyver" then scheduled on BBC1's
Saturday teatimes as a warm up to Mike Smith's "That's Showbusiness" quiz.
The BBC hoping it would become their "A Team" but Patti and Selma Bouvier's
love-interest had switched to ITV himself within two years.

There's also a clip of the Broom Cupboard following a repeat of a 1988 "Really Wild Show",
and no word of lie, the roaring tiger at the end was a rather frightening sight aged 4.

And spread throughout, an awful lot of Thames XXI pres from the interim period that summer celebrating Thames Television's 21st anniversary, but also "getting ready" for the new ITV
which saw Thames' long running mirror ident ditched.

Steve Wright joked at the time on his Radio 1 show about the new "ITV 'Please Don't Take Away Our Franchise' Network" and not even Thames adapting suit was enough to save it
two years later.
Not helped by Wrighty also taking the piss out of their "Interceptor" series airing
that same '89 summer.

On a sadder note, the opening to Granada's "Connections" at the end with former
CBBC presenter turned TV exec Simon Potter who died in 2020.




So that's what I've enjoyed viewing, and may post more finds if worthy of blogging.
You'd question if some of the above were ;)

Going Round In (Wheel Shaped Pasta) Circles

The last two weeks have been tough, in both a wider perspective and personal.

The latter may have been down to my last blog post reflecting on
happier times 15 years ago, the comedown of returning from a recent London outing
to the same location it happened, and between then and now a spell of depression
up to another event in London last Thursday to coincide with the Radio Festival.

And just when I thought I had recovered, wanting to get on with things, 
well, what happened, happened and have had to re-adjust.

Conscious of when to post this blog, as I wouldn’t want to upset others.

If you’re happy to carry on reading, then please do.

Five years ago I wrote another blog post, bearing similar sentiments
and nothing appears to have changed.

I have barely learnt anything from it.

Designed to help aspiring broadcasters at the grass roots gain advice from
industry professionals, "Foot in The Door" confirmed the many thoughts that I have 
fallen out of love with the medium that I may have wanted more out of, 
than what everyone else is seemingly satisfied with.

On a positive note, Karen Pearson who made those struggling times better than they
might have been, was made a fellow of the Radio Academy last Wednesday
re-confirming some of the thoughts in that earlier blog;

"So many influential people in radio, but very few Karen Ps."

At "Foot In The Door" the day after, the organisers made adjustments to
bring some of the speakers to chat in a quieter place to chat one to one.

One of the few who I got on with was a woman working on BBC Introducing
asking me what my interests outside of radio were, and I opened up about
my beach weekends away in Devon, Cromer and other places.    

How I adored fish and chips near the shores, but hated mushy peas or other such unnecessary condiments. That's when I started laughing, and I thought I was unable to
beforehand.

It's not an area I open up often, but if I find myself getting on with another person well
it helps me to "show them the real Robin" as another radio student at university once put it.

(Only that other people thought that the real me was one that had to be sectioned...)

Hitting me very quickly that it was the social aspect and empathy that I found more enjoyable
than making radio itself, and has been a big absence since leaving university,
save for the work I did with Folded Wing.

But with them it became very clear that I had more affection for the company founder,
than the output they produced.

Which I have been told isn't a problem, more commendable for opening up about it
and it did spur me on to produce better audio elsewhere while still with them.

But also why I haven't been making audio full stop in the last four or so years, 
and doubtful I'll want to start again. Twelve years since graduating is long enough
to work out it's just been a long parade of circles, and ongoing upsets from unrealistic expectations.

Despite not finding any real solutions, I left the London event in a better state than arrived,
listening to a recently uploaded recording from Chiltern Radio in 1989,
the night of the Bruno Vs Tyson fight nonetheless.

Enjoyable enough to forget that it was pissing down with rain whilst walking
down Euston Road. Not to mention the days where you could get away
with two Fleetwood Mac tracks within one hour.

(The irony that "Dreams" would be the last song played on Radio 2 that evening
before switching to rolling news)

But whilst an enjoyable time period nostalgically, to wish radio would go back
to sounding like that all the time is unrealistic, especially with the number
of community radio stations trying to replicate that sound very poorly.

An approach not that different to Channel 4's recent rehash of The Big Breakfast.

The world has changed, I have got older, and now struggle to cope not just with noise but being within big crowds full stop.

Whether at the Margate Soul Festival, or a networking break at the Radio Festival,
they're just big triggers of uncertainty and further anxiety.

I don't know what's going to happen in the coming months, but maybe it's better that way.

The empathy and just being-there-for-the-listener approach heard on the radio over this weekend has been superb, making it more welcoming than ever.

Katie Thistleton on Radio 1 in particular mentioning that there’s no shame
admitting you have your own problems to deal with at such a time (14.11).

Or no shame in managing such things in the way you want to.

My first night back at home spent enjoying the other special meal save for the seaside delicacy,
ruote pasta in red wine-drenched mince.

Circles that usher in a happier sensation just in that moment.
Which maybe what is better savouring, than chasing unrealistic ambitions.