Based in mid-Europe, Radio Luxembourg
beamed English speaking transmissions from 6pm until the
early hours. At that time, commercial radio was verboten in the UK. RL filled
the gap. Reception could sometimes be almost un-intelligible or more often as
clear as a bell. The great majority of transmissions were sponsored record
programmes. Eagerly awaited by pop music fans, the Radio Luxembourg Top Twenty
was broadcast every Sunday night live from Luxembourg itself. The
remainder of the English broadcast material emanated from the studios in Hertford
Street, in the heart of the Mayfair district.
The building contained two studios; four
edit suites and three floors of storage and office space. An aged gentleman
named Fred, provided tea and buns at, seemingly, every hour of the long working
day. Fred was also an active bookies runner!
All material recorded at Hertford
Street was flown to Luxembourg on 16 reels
of tape, recorded at 30 inches per second.
The quantity of tapes was an enormous air freight commitment. The used
tapes came back by land. For those
interested in the more technical aspects, the tapes recorded at Hertford Street and re-cycled after transmission were often
edited heavily from programme to programme. Thus, a one hour tape ready for
re-use after block erasure, could contain as many is sixty manual edits – if
the edit had not been done well, the join would ‘bump’ over the heads affecting
the new sound and necessitating a re-take. To obviate the same thing happening
at the same point, the tape could be pushed into the head with a pencil
just as the join went through. An old
reel of tape had to be pretty well condemned before replacement.
Four weeks after I joined the sound staff
and after much pressure from the Musicians Union, Radio Luxembourg had their
needle time cut by 50%. This caused a massive gap in the scheduling and
compelled the management to seek alternative programme material. Thus, many
music shows were recorded for later transmission. Over the following four years
we were recording just about every band and singer in the land.
- Ted Heath Orchestra
- The Squadronaires.
- Ken Mackintosh Orchestra.
- Norrie Paramour Strings.
- Big Ben Banjo Band
- Billy's Banjo Band.
- Primo Scala's Accordion Band
- Eric Winstone Orchestra.
- Cliff Richard & the Shadows
- Kenny Ball's Jazzmen.
- Chris Barber with Ottilie Patterson.
- Humphrey Lyttleton Jazz Band.
- Joe Loss and his Orchestra.
- Harry Gold's Pieces of Eight.
- The Eddie Calvert Shows
- Frankie Vaughan Shows
In the slack off-peak advertising
periods, we made filler programmes. Interviews with Frank Sinatra, Johnny Ray,
Mel Torme and Stan Kenton gave me the opportunity to act 'producer' and make up
several 1-hour programmes using these interviews interspersed with record
tracks. Yes, I actually met Stan Kenton! I
had a signed photo that he sent me in the forties. I showed it to him and he
told me he actually remembered signing it - adding, he didn't t have too many
European fans in those days (the old smoothie!). Stan could talk nine to the
dozen. Later, I interspersed his dialogue with Kenton tracks to make up (I
think) three one hour programmes. Given the time I could have probably made
thirteen!
Frank Sinatra wasn't particularly verbose
and only the charm of David Jacobs got a interview worth broadcasting. Still
one of the most underrated singers of the age was Mel Torme 'The Velvet Fog ' as
he was known. When he came to Hertford Street to be
interviewed, the receptionist put him in the waiting room and forgot about him.
Half an hour later, wondering if he was a no-show, we finally discovered him
in the gloomy room where apparently he had been engrossed in Country Life. Mr.
Torme was a really nice guy.
All of these live musical shows that had
to fill the needle time space were in addition to the normal Luxembourg DJ
shows with Peter Murray, Jack Jackson, Alan Freeman, Sam Costa, Beryl Reid,
Dickie Murdoch, Charles (Bud) Tingwell, Eric Winstone's Butlins kid's shows and
many more. We had a one hour listener's request programme every evening and
people were invited to write in with a request. Often none arrived - one of the
reasons being people addressed their letter to Radio Luxembourg c/o BBC
London. The BBC used to save this mail until a sack was full then return it to
the GPO with a note 'Not known at this
address' . Thus it was apparent that at least someone at the beeb had a sense
of humour! It's probably not hot news by now, but sackfuls of these request
items were later 'sold' to the cheaper football pool companies.
Horace Bachelor was a famous Luxembourg name. His
'Infra-draw' method promised football pool success and his producer George
Harman and I were convinced there must be something in his method as he
regularly won dividends himself every week. Horace did his own voice over
adverts. His winning lines were always on cheaper pools (farthing a line) and
often his permutation investments exceeded his winnings. But, he could always
say, truthfully, 'last week I won two
first dividends and six second dividends' Vivian Gale, our very posh sound
technician once gave Horace the name of his (Harley Street) dentist as Horace
emitted a whistle on certain words. Horace merely boarded his waiting
chauffeured Rolls Royce with a smile.
The music shows were a Godsend, the
variance of the sound mixing bonanza was invaluable. The Ted Heath shows
achieved something of a record. One hundred and fifty-six programmes sponsored by Gillette, ran
continuously for three years. We used to record three at a time in Wandsworth Town Hall between 0930
and 1300. Dennis Lotus, Bobby Britton and Lita Roza usually did one song per
show. Our recording schedule was crippling, traversing the country every weekend
besides working the studios throughout the week... Not much spare time at Radio
Luxembourg, 75-hour weeks were common. No overtime was payable, but what
terrific experience. We had a sound crew of five, of which (by 1958) I was the
Chief Engineer! This title could not be more of a joke as my technical
knowledge was (and still is) dire. Often technical letters came from listeners
requesting information concerning reception criteria etc. I was totally unable
to handle this. I often buried these letters in the Request Programme sacks.
However (to the Managements delight) one of the first things I ordained was
that all tapes would be recorded at 15 ips thereby cutting air-freight
charges by half.
All programmes were assigned a
'producer'. They booked artistes, oversaw scripts, shaped the look of the show
to fit in commercials, attended the recording session before editing the final
show preceding despatch to Luxembourg A
busy job, to say the least. Today, an office of several people would be
formulated to cover that workload. Some names spring to mind; Adam Leys left
early on to write. Peter Pritchett-Brown left to become transmission controller
at an ITV station. Tom Masson returned to the BBC. Tom was producer on the Winifred Atwell series and after a
lengthy edit session he retired to his checking room (After a brief visit to
the local). Whilst listening to a final playback to ensure the tape was ready
for transmission, he fell asleep. The cleaners found him the following morning,
still a slumber. The tape reel was still going round and round but the tape had
completely disintegrated and the air in the small checking room contained
thousands of small particles of floating tape. Even Tom had an inch layer on
his inert body. Tom recovered and went sick. The show was lost for all time and
another show was compiled from the others in the series and no great harm was
done. Winnie never knew. Her manager/husband Lew Levensen rarely allowed Winnie
to waste time listening to the radio. They were on the road too much.
We did the first Winifred Atwell Show at
the Kursaal Ballroom, Southend. Lew had 'found' a new star and he was to have
his first broadcast that night. It was Matt Monroe. I believe Lew got him a job
on the buses for a short time so he could reveal him as 'the singing bus
conductor'. After the show, Lew asked Sam Cartmer,
who mixed the show, how to get to the railway station. Sam replied; 'Don't know Lew, why not ask your ****** singing bus conductor'?
Sam didn't last too long after that and I
got to mix the remainder of the series.
Joy Sharpen, another Luxembourg producer
left to become a freelance music producer. Of Peter Fox, I know not what happened.
Amongst other shows, George Harmon produced the Horace Bachelor commercials.
George and I were convinced that Horace had a secret method of winning the
pools. One day, we plucked up the courage and naively asked Horace for the
formula. He replied 'Just send two pounds
to Horace Bachelor at Keynsham, Bristol . . . . .' which was, of course,
his commercial blurb. George left to open a successful florist business.
Colin Streeton was
probably the most successful Luxembourg producer, both at the station and his afterlife. Tall, dark and
handsome, his persona was a ready smile and charming manner. Later, he was to
leave and open his own production company. I remember doing the sound for him
(when freelance) on a documentary for the Post Office. The secret of Colin's
success was his ability to know everybody's job without letting on.
In 1957, a high pitched whistle blocked
English transmissions for three weeks. This nearly crippled the London arm of the
station financially. It was discovered that the whistle was transmitted from
eastern Europe and that the Russians were responsible. It appeared that they
had taken umbrage to a (rare) classical music programme hosted by Godfrey
Winn. A brilliant wartime
broadcaster, Godfrey lost the tips of several fingers on a convoy to Murmansk in the 2nd
world war. Apparently, on hearing a massive explosion in the middle of the
night, he dashed up on deck to see a tanker on fire having been torpedoed.
Regretfully, he forgot to don gloves and touched the freezing cold handrails of
the ship. Often, while commenting on classical performers he would make
derogatory remarks about the Soviet Regime. Only after considerable high-level
communications with the Russian Embassy did the blocking finally stop.
We went very political correct from then
onwards. Although I remember mixing a DJ show with a young, cheekie chap named
Gus Goodwin. The programme was sponsored by a tobacco company and Gus had made
three or four stinging references to cancer sticks. The Producer (Jack Harris)
didn't pick these remarks up, he was probably dreaming of the honeymoon he was
soon to embark on. I prodded Jack saying 'Can he say cancer sticks Jack'?
- Jack went berserk, dashing into the
studio mid-announcement, shouting abuse to a very astonished Gus Goodwin.
Jack Harris was a studious man, slight
build, balding and probably ex-BBC. When he first appeared with his new girl
friend we were all astounded. She was an absolutely stunning Swedish beauty. We
looked at Jack in a new light from then.
One evening I was editing in Studio A
with Dickie Dawson, a radio producer with big ideas. The front door bell rang
and Dickie said 'Oh it's probably my missus' I went to open the door and
standing there was Diana Dors. Wow! Later, we went over to the pub in Shepherds
Market where Diana had conversations with some of the 'ladies of the night'
Diana was a charming, easy going, gorgeous lady with absolutely no side.
In 1959 the advent of legal commercial
radio was looming. I felt that Radio Luxembourg 's days were numbered. Driving
around the country every weekend was getting tedious. One day, Hughie Green
promised to get me sacked because I didn 't turn the house PA up high enough.
Explaining that a different company did the Public Address installation cut no
ice. Hughie was not a bundle of fun. The Hughie Green radio quiz programmes were recorded at various locations all over the
country. After an overnight in a local hotel we would set up the gear before
lunch. Later (as previously briefly touched on) Hughie and his manager would
check the dressing room and the layout of the stage. During this walk-through,
Hughie would whisper into the microphone ‘Can You Hear Me?’ to his manager in
the auditorium. The manager usually replied ‘No, I can’t’ – Hughie would then
make one of his faces before insisting the public address system be turned
higher. It was superfluous my asking how his manager could reply to a question
he hadn’t heard! We invariably used local firms to supply and operate the PA, a
concept that Mr. Green seemed unable to grasp. He was an extremely grumpy
person although he always cheered up when selecting his girl hostesses for each
programme series. It was apparent that radio broadcasting talent was not high
on his list of qualifications.
My young
colleague, Colin Eldred, also suffered the slings and arrows of Hughie Green
and his tiresome tirades Colin was at Luxembourg before my arrival and stayed long after I had
left. He later joined ANGLIA TELEVISION as a very successful TV Director
Boredom was creeping in - time to move
on.
I applied for a sound job at Associated
Television. Eventually being interviewed by Head of Sound Ray McCabe (probably
the coolest sound mixer I have ever known) he said he 'd be in touch. Four weeks
later I was staring at Primo Scala and his Accordion band through the control
room window of Studio A, the microphones in the studio were sticking up like
Triffids amidst the fifteen accordions in full gallop. Suddenly, the phone
rang, I muted the loudspeakers and Ray McCabe's secretary (Barbara Williams)
asked me if I could start as soon as possible.
Six years and four promotions later, I
was a Senior Sound Director at ATV, the
finest television production company
in the world. Never generous with praise, I think
that dad was finally proud of me.....
I had badly
misjudged the demise of Radio Luxembourg by many, many years. But, I am still pleased I
made the break into television sound when I did.
ATV
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