¦ AudioWise ¦

At Radio Luxembourg, Bob Monkhouse was a constant visitor with his partner Dennis Goodwin to record a series of record programmes entitled You’re The Tops. Bob had an incredible memory for names and gags. He always knew everybody’s name at the Hertford Street studios of Radio Luxembourg, even after months of absence. Bob was ‘charm’ personified. Dennis Goodwin was a little hazier. He went out to buy cigarettes once having been directed to nearby Shepherds Market. He never returned that afternoon!

Given any subject; Bob, just like Tommy Trinder, would immediately have five gags to suit that subject. They had card-indexed memories with computer-like speed, able to ad-lib seemingly for hours. Bob appeared at St. Albans Town Hall, some years ago where a heavy fall of snow had attracted only a handful of theatregoers. Bob sat on the edge of the stage, got the handful present to move to the front row seats and said ‘I’ve left more people at home than this’. A local paper critic wrote; if you weren’t there, you missed a classic performance from Mr. Monkhouse.

At ATV, Bob hosted many game shows including Celebrity Squares, Family Fortunes, and The Golden Shot. This was a live Sunday afternoon programme where the middle segment was a pop group. The group would arrive early Sunday morning, having invariably travelled overnight from a gig. They would either play live or pre-record a track but voices were almost invariably live. Apart from this sound commitment, the Golden Shot was a cacophony of sound problems, from audience pick-up to a series of multi-mics, bells ringing, spot effects and the dreaded telephone line sequence where contestants would finally instruct Bernie the Bolt - ‘Up a bit– left a bit-right a bit. . . . . fire’! Sometimes, less than a minute before the phone line was needed, I would monitor the line to discover no one was there! Another contestant would be waiting on an alternate line. Out of something like sixty Golden Shots, I think I only ever got about four exactly right.

I remember a contestant complaining that the allotted thirty seconds to fire was cut short. The only record of the show was the sound tape we recorded on the day. Monday morning I was called in to explain this recording to the angry contestant and eventually satisfied them by cutting the sound tape segment and laying in lengthways on a corridor floor. Measured at 15 inches per second this meant that 30 seconds equaled four hundred and fifty inches in length. Armed with a brand new tape measure, the now not-so-angry contestant discovered that they not only had he been given the correct time, but six and half inches over! I wish Bob had been there for that performance, he would have loved it.

Apart from The Golden Shot, usually more than one programme a day was recorded. Bob had a warm-up for the afternoon audience and another for the evening (slightly risqué). The next night even that warm-up was different. He gauged his warm-ups to the feel of the particular audience. In private, his favourite subject was old movies. His collection was renowned. He could recite the names of hundreds of lesser-known actors from that period.

There will never be another Bob Monkhouse.

Tommy Trinder was very big at Radio Luxembourg. We went on the road with his show You Lucky People. This was an audience show with the Norrie Paramour Band providing music between audience members coming on stage to win a token prize. Tommy never had a script and we never rehearsed. One particular night at Poplar Town Hall in East London, because of fog, Tommy hadn’t arrived from Belgium where he had been watching his beloved Fulham football team (he was a director of the Club). Norrie entertained the waiting audience going through the band’s repertoire. The audience was getting restless and producer Geoffrey Everett was about to cancel when Tommy, with suitcase, walked up the aisle from the front of the theatre. We kept running tape as he climbed onto the stage, still carrying his suitcase, walked up to the microphone and said ‘You Lucky People!’ Norrie struck up with ‘Hold That Tiger’ (Tommy’s signature tune) the show started and never stopped.

That same venue was used for recording the popular Joe Loss Orchestra shows. These featured vocalists Ross McManus and Rose Brennan. Joe was a stickler for perfection until the clock started ticking too quickly and overtime loomed. He was a charming host to us all and when lunchtime neared he would send his manager to nearby Mile End to bring back forty salt beef sandwiches. Members of the saxophone section once confided to me that they dare not look at Joe’s manic conducting whilst playing, as his shiny, black hair fell forward over his eyes. Joe was actually an astute business manager. There were not too many cruise ships plying the high seas at that time, but what few there were featured ‘The Joe Loss Band’. Any cabaret stars also came from his agency.

Max Wall was another Radio Luxembourg stalwart. We toured the country with his show Laughter in Court.. In the afternoons before the evening performance, we would all gather in the hotel bar and Max would relate a massive range of gags and stories, a different set for every hotel. Max was a superb raconteur. His career was sadly affected when he left his wife and umpteen kids to marry a Miss England (Violet Pretty). She used to sit in the front row during rehearsals, her eyes glued to Max, genuinely laughing at all his gags. ↓

During a studio recording of The Dickie Valentine Show, I insisted that Geoff Love and his band with Dickie, come into the control room to inspect my brand new, sleek Philips tape recording console, of which I was very proud. As the session drew to an end, the last song was halfway through when everything went silent. In the studio, the band was playing, Geoff was conducting and Dickie was singing in his vocal booth. In sheer panic, I went to my new tape machine and inspected it closely. No input showed on the meters. About to stop the session, I suddenly heard a snigger – surely it came from the studio? Yes, it had. They had arranged to all stop playing and singing on a certain bar but to keep miming.

They got me.

I managed to get my own back on the Geoff Love –Dickie Valentine session where they conned me into thinking my new Philips recorder had malfunctioned. .

After recording the final number of a session at well past ten at night, I told them I had a nasty tape jump owing to a bad edit and requested they go again. I would stand over the machine (out of their vision) and hold the tape against the head. I gave them the red light signal and while they were replaying the number (the recorded version of which was perfectly okay) I quietly switched the equipment off then safely storing the recorded programme, I left a note asking them to turn the lights out and lock up, I then left via the front door. I think they took it well?

Musical Director Ian Fraser tried this on many years later at ATV during a recording session. It took a few seconds but a distant memory popped up. When recording the music for Bing Crosby’s Merrie Olde Xmas Show, my number two had inadvertently plugged up to the wrong band room. The Crosby family had already rehearsed the first number a couple of times and Ian, thinking I had got a balance, was anxious to roll but I still had ‘shush’ on all my faders. We stalled until the correct plugging was achieved then, not wanting to admit our stupidity we rolled tape and recorded the opening music in one take without the usual microphone identification and band balance. I didn’t get the percussion section so eventually had to fiddle the mix quite a bit.

Not to be outdone by the Light Entertainment segment of ATV, the drama department could be relied upon to bring out their big guns. Laurence Olivier starred in both Long Day’s Journe’ and Uncle Vanya. In this latter production I was a boom tracker and I well remember Mr. Olivier quietly prompting any of the cast who happened to either forget their lines or take too long delivering them. He would queue for lunch along with everybody else holding animated conversations on any subject en route to the food counter. He had a cigarette brand named after him called Oliver (which I tried and quite liked) once he confided to me that if ‘they’ hadn’t kept sending him 200 fags every week he would have given it up years ago.

H.M. Tennant Ltd. brought a drama into the studios almost weekly. Being shot in black & white, the sets were always painted green. We called it Tennant Green. Three momentous episodes of Nelon starred Kenneth Colley. In episode three, the guns being fired on the mock gun deck in Studio C were not only heard in Studio D where I was Muppeting, but actually shook the floor and stopped production for awhile.