I worked in an office when emails were in their infancy. I set up the company email addresses at the music PR company Media Village in London in 1997, but my colleagues barely used them because their clients didn't.
Every hour our 28K modem would noisily dial in, pause, and then deliver an occasionally useful missive before crashing. It was a source of wonder to me.
The primary way of doing business was verbal. Firing information back and forth across the office, or out of the building on landlines. Meetings happened a lot.
The two sacrosanct items in the office were the fax machine and the A4, lined, hardback phone messages book, which had a pencil attached to it by string.
If someone was out of the office or unable to take a call, you got up from your desk and wrote down who had called, their number and what they wanted.
The fax machine sat on a pedestal in the middle of the room. I remember occasions when an important fax was due, we would crowd round the machine as it spluttered into life. A confirmed deal meant we would all get paid at the end of the month.
But mostly it was phone work, calling people to shoot the breeze, hustle, set up another meeting, remind them you were there or share opinions on new records or gigs you'd seen each other at the night before.
Doing business this way is a dying art. Email, as David Hepworth notes, has taken the performance element out of it.
This morning I wrote five emails before 7am. In 1997, the earliest I would call a non-colleague was 9am and that was only if there was something very urgent going on.
The same was true of other companies. The phone would only ever start ringing in the office at around 10.30am. People just wouldn't be in the right frame of mind to have a telephone conversation before then - it was just rude to think they would.
Often the person you were calling wouldn't be in. You'd leave a message with a colleague (presumably to be written in their phone messages book) or, if they were a big deal, their PA.
If they wanted speak to you, those calls would come back in the afternoon. If they didn't, etiquette demanded you wait until the next day before you call again.
Or you'd write them a letter, which seems positively Victorian, nowadays.
Journalist, broadcaster and author of The Great Post Office Trial and Depp v Heard: the unreal story
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Thursday, 24 January 2013
On the Mic - Surrey Life - January 2013
A slightly re-written version of my Jan 2013 Surrey Life column. How the black majesty of winter’s bleakest month became just another cog in the never-ending retail cycle.
I’m not going to pretend I like January. It’s horrible.
The feasting and bonhomie of Christmas and New Year has gone. The weather is grim and wet, and the county’s poor, huddled commuters gather once more to board virus-filled trains, silent and miserable in the morning darkness.
You don’t enjoy January. You get through it. Or at least, you used to.
In recent years it's changed. Instead of retreating into the warmth of our homes, venturing out only to work and buy necessities, we are being encouraged to treat the entire month as a giant weight-loss opportunity.
The fitness DVD adverts start on Boxing Day. The newspapers start using the d-words - detox and diet - in the run up to New Year.
Why do we do it to ourselves? Why massively over-indulge through the Christmas period and then pretend we’re going to live like ascetic monks from the first Monday of the New Year?
Because we’re told to, by people who stand to make lots of money from it. Fatten up, little piggies, now join a gym and get on the treadmill.
Last year my producer Emma ran away from the BBC to work as a PR for the charity Alcohol Concern. Emma is brilliant and surpassed even herself when she told me during her interview she asked if the staff ever went for a drink. That could have gone badly for her, but she got the job.
Emma’s big project for 2013 is a campaign aimed at encouraging us to dry out for the whole of January. The idea being you try not to drink any booze for a month, whilst people essentially bet you do, by way of sponsorship. Any money raised goes towards helping people with alcohol problems.
I’m not going to do it.
It’s taken me a long time to realise moderation is a laudable aim. In the run up to Christmas that means giving mince pies a hard stare, rather than a cheeky, conspiratorial wink. In January, it hopefully means I don’t have to join the temporary teetotallers, forever boiling strange lumps of vegetable matter in the office microwave whilst pretending to enjoy their herbal tea. I’ve been there, and I never want to do it again.
My New Year’s wish for the readers of Surrey Life is that together we stop doing what we’re told to and remember the true meaning of January - headaches, mild depression and whisky.
Cheers.
*************************
November 2012 - on stopping doing weekday breakfast
October 2012 - on trying to engage brain and mouth on air
September 2012 - on my BBC microphone
August 2012 - on the Olympics
July 2012 - on being on holiday with three small children
June 2012 - on joining a gym
May 2012 - on making live radio
April 2012 - on being ill
Friday, 11 January 2013
Nick Clegg on LBC
Nick Clegg's phone in on LBC was was a masterclass in making the most of an excellent opportunity.
Securing the Deputy Prime Minister's time for a weekly phone-in was a coup in itself, and the station rightly went to town when it was announced on Monday. No other serving cabinet minister has signed up to present a weekly phone-in radio show before. LBC described this as "historic". It is.
I am a big fan of what LBC does, and did a number of production shifts for them before and after Christmas. As a result I'm listening to as much as I can (whilst also staying loyal to BBC Surrey, of course, where I present a weekly show).
Throughout this week on LBC, every presenter I heard flagged up the deputy PM's debut, and the schedule was liberally sprinkled with pre-recorded trails so regular listeners knew to tune in on Thursday at 9am.
On the morning of the broadcast the entire station was geared towards turning "Call Clegg" into Event Radio. The news bulletins and the breakfast show presenter Nick Ferrari primed us, as did tweets from the main LBC account and the staff working in the building. The live video feed started rolling, the live blog kicked in ("8:45: Nick Clegg is almost ready.") and the deputy PM's name began trending, as did the hashtag #callclegg.
The broadcast itself passed off smoothly. The listeners were polite and respectful, even the one who told Nick Clegg he'd ripped up his Lib Dem membership card because the party had betrayed everything it said it stood for. That confrontation gave the bulletin and print journalists eg (Mirror, Daily Mail) their news line.
Nick Ferrari did a faultless job in pushing the DPM when his answers avoided the question, yet still backed off and gave the listeners space to make their points and have their say.
You got a sense, as the broadcast was progressing, that LBC's audience felt this was their opportunity to hold a powerful politician to account.
For me, the real masterstroke was the debrief. Rather than just leave it to the bulletins desk to pull out the strongest audio, and trail ahead to next week's appearance, in the final half hour of the breakfast show, Nick Ferrari got the station's political correspondent Tom Cheal in to talk us through the "historic" broadcast.
Tom gave some relaxed and authoritative analysis on the serious side of what the DPM and the listeners had said, mentioned that #callclegg was trending worldwide ("above Justin Timberlake at one stage") and rightly pointed out Nick had a scoop when a listener prompted Nick Clegg to reveal he owned a onesie. This, said Tom, was something that was very likely to inspire the next day's newspaper cartoonists. It did.
Onesiegate is a political sketchwriter's dream. The BBC, Guardian, Telegraph and Spectator all used it to to get into their pieces and even The Independent's fashion blogger got on the case. Each article was suffused with a tone of grudging respect for LBC, which is about the highest praise you're going to get from competitors.
Back at the ranch, James O'Brien devoted the first hour of his mid-morning show to a debate on whether the listeners were prepared to see Nick Clegg in a new light as a result of his decision to do a regular phone-in on LBC.
I didn't hear all of it as I had to do something for Radio 2, but there were the beginnings of a fascinating discussion on the deputy PM's poll ratings and the direction he'd taken his party.
As I was driving the girls back from their swimming lesson yesterday evening, I tuned to LBC, heard Nick Clegg's voice and assumed I was listening to the 7pm news bulletin. No, they had taken a chunk out of Iain Dale's programme to repeat the entire half hour phone-in from 7pm. Iain (who I like a lot) has written a good blog post on Clegg's performance and what it means for the station.
In summary, the activity around a simple piece of phone-in radio was a lesson for all of us in ambition, execution and promotion. LBC is going places. Nick Clegg will be back next week.
*********************
I have not asked for permission to use the images in this post, although I have used a credit and/or linked back. If you are the copyright owner and want your image removed please let me know and I'll take it down immediately.
.
Securing the Deputy Prime Minister's time for a weekly phone-in was a coup in itself, and the station rightly went to town when it was announced on Monday. No other serving cabinet minister has signed up to present a weekly phone-in radio show before. LBC described this as "historic". It is.
I am a big fan of what LBC does, and did a number of production shifts for them before and after Christmas. As a result I'm listening to as much as I can (whilst also staying loyal to BBC Surrey, of course, where I present a weekly show).
Throughout this week on LBC, every presenter I heard flagged up the deputy PM's debut, and the schedule was liberally sprinkled with pre-recorded trails so regular listeners knew to tune in on Thursday at 9am.
On the morning of the broadcast the entire station was geared towards turning "Call Clegg" into Event Radio. The news bulletins and the breakfast show presenter Nick Ferrari primed us, as did tweets from the main LBC account and the staff working in the building. The live video feed started rolling, the live blog kicked in ("8:45: Nick Clegg is almost ready.") and the deputy PM's name began trending, as did the hashtag #callclegg.
The broadcast itself passed off smoothly. The listeners were polite and respectful, even the one who told Nick Clegg he'd ripped up his Lib Dem membership card because the party had betrayed everything it said it stood for. That confrontation gave the bulletin and print journalists eg (Mirror, Daily Mail) their news line.
Nick Ferrari did a faultless job in pushing the DPM when his answers avoided the question, yet still backed off and gave the listeners space to make their points and have their say.
You got a sense, as the broadcast was progressing, that LBC's audience felt this was their opportunity to hold a powerful politician to account.
For me, the real masterstroke was the debrief. Rather than just leave it to the bulletins desk to pull out the strongest audio, and trail ahead to next week's appearance, in the final half hour of the breakfast show, Nick Ferrari got the station's political correspondent Tom Cheal in to talk us through the "historic" broadcast.
Tom gave some relaxed and authoritative analysis on the serious side of what the DPM and the listeners had said, mentioned that #callclegg was trending worldwide ("above Justin Timberlake at one stage") and rightly pointed out Nick had a scoop when a listener prompted Nick Clegg to reveal he owned a onesie. This, said Tom, was something that was very likely to inspire the next day's newspaper cartoonists. It did.
Onesiegate is a political sketchwriter's dream. The BBC, Guardian, Telegraph and Spectator all used it to to get into their pieces and even The Independent's fashion blogger got on the case. Each article was suffused with a tone of grudging respect for LBC, which is about the highest praise you're going to get from competitors.
©hmatthews92 |
I didn't hear all of it as I had to do something for Radio 2, but there were the beginnings of a fascinating discussion on the deputy PM's poll ratings and the direction he'd taken his party.
As I was driving the girls back from their swimming lesson yesterday evening, I tuned to LBC, heard Nick Clegg's voice and assumed I was listening to the 7pm news bulletin. No, they had taken a chunk out of Iain Dale's programme to repeat the entire half hour phone-in from 7pm. Iain (who I like a lot) has written a good blog post on Clegg's performance and what it means for the station.
In summary, the activity around a simple piece of phone-in radio was a lesson for all of us in ambition, execution and promotion. LBC is going places. Nick Clegg will be back next week.
*********************
I have not asked for permission to use the images in this post, although I have used a credit and/or linked back. If you are the copyright owner and want your image removed please let me know and I'll take it down immediately.
.
Thursday, 10 January 2013
Harris and Hoole and Me
I seem to have become something of an expert on the Harris and Hoole story.
I first came across them when shop-fitters boards went up outside the old Clinton Cards on our High Street. It announced that Harris and Hoole was coming soon, but didn't say much else beyond a series of hieroglyphic clues. I deciphered one as Pan+Knee+Knee and realised we were looking at the arrival of yet another coffee shop.
I assumed it was a chain, as no independent would have gone for a teaser marketing campaign like that. Turns out they are, and they're 49% owned by Tesco.
This is a problem for some, who don't like buying fake authenticity because it makes them feel like stooges. Others don't like it because they think it's putting independent coffee shops out of business. The Guardian newspaper has written extensively about this. The CEO of Tesco has blogged about it.
I suggested it as a subject when I was producing Andrew Gilligan's show on LBC last week and the phones lit up. We had café owners who claimed to have been put out of business by corporates muscling in on their trade, and plenty more who felt they'd been sold a pup by Harris and Hoole, but would still be going back.
Two days ago I wrote about the coffee shop invasion for Surrey Life magazine, whilst sitting in Harris and Hoole. Today I was there again, adding some colour to a debate with the brand's owner on the Jeremy Vine show on BBC Radio 2.
Not a cup of coffee, or an Americano. In Harris and Hoole, it's a Long Black. |
Others knew and weren't happy about it (but still liked the product). Two business people I spoke to had just found out about Tesco's investment and decided to boycott Harris and Hoole, telling me they had made a decision to hold future meetings in Walton's remaining independent cafés.
Harris and Hoole will live without them. In fact, they will thrive. The Walton H+H has some of the most helpful and willing staff I've met in any retail outlet ever, it has free (and very easy to get into) wifi, and the USP is the sheer amount of space.
Take a buggy into the Costa in Walton and you spend your entire time apologising and re-arranging the furniture as you fight to get to your seat. H+H could've doubled the number of tables in the space they have available, but they choose not to. Even those enormous side-by-side buggies can get to any table with ease. In a town like Walton, this matters.
It's a shame the coffee tastes so grim. Other far more sophisticated palates disagree, but having had quite a few Harris and Hoole "Long Blacks" now, I just can't get on with it. Too sweet.
My favourite brew in Walton is made by Le Petit Café, a more cheap and cheerful independent set-up which was here long before the Neros and Costas of this world. The fella in there knows what he's doing, and he's friendly too.
But if I have a buggy, or I am going to be using my laptop, or I want to sink into an armchair for a bit, H+H will get my custom. Next time I'll just order a nice cup of tea.
.
Sunday, 6 January 2013
On the Mic - Surrey Life - December 2012
Surrey Life column Dec 2012:
"I have a problem. Last year my boss at BBC Surrey asked if I would like to learn, and then perform, a short stand-up routine for Comic Relief. Listeners would be asked to "sponsor" me, and the set would be recorded and broadcast by the BBC.
We raised hundreds of pounds, and I ended up on stage in front of two hundred people in Brighton, having the time of my life. With lots of professional performance coaching and assistance, I succeeded in making the audience laugh.
"You've got the bug now, haven't you?" said one of my fellow turns that night, backstage. "Are you ready to spend your days travelling the country, eating service station pasties at two in the morning?"
I wasn't, and I'm not, but he was right. I have got the bug. That's my problem.
A few months after the Brighton gig, I contacted a stand up I know called Sajeela Kershi. As well as being terrifyingly funny, Sajeela hosts a monthly comedy night called The Comedy Cottage in her home town of Redhill.
Earlier that year Sajeela risked catastrophe by allowing me to do a warm-up for my Brighton gig at a Cottage night. It went okay.
So I went back to Sajeela, and wondered, coyly, if she might be prepared to consider allowing me have another go.
Sajeela graciously booked me in. This time it didn't go okay.
The reason? Simples. My Comic Relief performances had been mentored and honed by another Redhill (what is it about that town?) stand up comedian of some genius, Nathaniel Tapley. Natt helped me with my script, performance skills and confidence. He was basically the architect of everything that was good about what the audience saw in Redhill and Brighton.
On my return to the Cottage, I was stupid enough to think I'd be okay if I went it alone. I was wrong. I bombed. And after that, I walked away.
But I've still got the bug.
So I've written a script. I've learned my set. I've tried it out on a couple of people who know what they're talkiing about. And I'm getting ready to do this all over again in front of a paying audience.
I'm as nervous as hell.
I'll let you know how it goes."
I've already done the gig - read about it here.
********************
"I have a problem. Last year my boss at BBC Surrey asked if I would like to learn, and then perform, a short stand-up routine for Comic Relief. Listeners would be asked to "sponsor" me, and the set would be recorded and broadcast by the BBC.
We raised hundreds of pounds, and I ended up on stage in front of two hundred people in Brighton, having the time of my life. With lots of professional performance coaching and assistance, I succeeded in making the audience laugh.
"You've got the bug now, haven't you?" said one of my fellow turns that night, backstage. "Are you ready to spend your days travelling the country, eating service station pasties at two in the morning?"
I wasn't, and I'm not, but he was right. I have got the bug. That's my problem.
A few months after the Brighton gig, I contacted a stand up I know called Sajeela Kershi. As well as being terrifyingly funny, Sajeela hosts a monthly comedy night called The Comedy Cottage in her home town of Redhill.
Earlier that year Sajeela risked catastrophe by allowing me to do a warm-up for my Brighton gig at a Cottage night. It went okay.
So I went back to Sajeela, and wondered, coyly, if she might be prepared to consider allowing me have another go.
Sajeela graciously booked me in. This time it didn't go okay.
The reason? Simples. My Comic Relief performances had been mentored and honed by another Redhill (what is it about that town?) stand up comedian of some genius, Nathaniel Tapley. Natt helped me with my script, performance skills and confidence. He was basically the architect of everything that was good about what the audience saw in Redhill and Brighton.
On my return to the Cottage, I was stupid enough to think I'd be okay if I went it alone. I was wrong. I bombed. And after that, I walked away.
But I've still got the bug.
So I've written a script. I've learned my set. I've tried it out on a couple of people who know what they're talkiing about. And I'm getting ready to do this all over again in front of a paying audience.
I'm as nervous as hell.
I'll let you know how it goes."
I've already done the gig - read about it here.
********************
You can find some of my previous columns below:
November 2012 - on stopping doing weekday breakfast
October 2012 - on trying to engage brain and mouth on air
September 2012 - on my BBC microphone
August 2012 - on the Olympics
July 2012 - on being on holiday with three small children
June 2012 - on joining a gym
May 2012 - on making live radio
April 2012 - on being ill
Sunday, 9 December 2012
The ghosts of Yalding
On Friday 7 Dec 2012, the last Newsbeat programme to come from Yalding House was broadcast. This photo shows most of the people in the office on that last day.
I worked at Newsbeat for three years between 2004 and 2007, so I know the office and the building well, and it was great coming back to see some old faces and meet new people.
In my old stint I was a reporter, mainly an entertainment reporter. This time round, older and uglier, I got to sit in the output editor's chair...
... and have a good chunk of responsibility for the overall sound, shape and editorial direction of the programme.
There is a recurring character trope among the people who work at Newsbeat. Everyone there is intelligent, committed, knowledgeable, enthusiastic, creative, friendly and hard-working. These are some of the best young radio journalists in the country at the top of their game. It was, as you can imagine, a joy to be working with them, even for a very brief time.
There was a strange atmosphere on the final day. Radio is perhaps the most ephemeral medium, and so the buildings where radio stations are located take on a distinct resonance. Despite having the architectural charm of a basement car park, magic happened at Yalding.
Chris Evans, at the height of his notoriety, broadcast from Yalding. John Peel (once considered one of the greatest Britons who ever lived, let's not forget) spent the last chapter of his career based at Yalding. If you ever geared up for a night out with Pete Tong in your kitchen or car - that was coming from Yalding... you get the picture.
Like many of the people in the group photograph above, I grew up with dreams of working at Radio 1. I managed it for a brief time, but on Friday there were people around me who were closing the door on an office they had worked in for ten years or more.
Don't get me wrong, no one was getting too sentimental, and the eighth floor of Broadcasting House is a palace by comparison, but there wasn't a single day I didn't walk into Yalding thinking "Blimey! I'm working at Radio 1! Look! I have a pass that lets me into Radio 1! How the hell did that happen?!"
Now that little chapter is over, I'm off to do other things. Thanks to everyone at Newsbeat who made me feel so welcome (and for the older lags, welcome back). Thanks particularly to Rod McKenzie for giving me the contract, and Jonathan Richards, who gave me the benefit of his expert and clear guidance when I was finding my feet in the first couple of weeks of editing the programme.
And thanks very much to Yalding House. There are a lot of old radio ghosts racketing about in that building. It was nice to be there at the end.
I worked at Newsbeat for three years between 2004 and 2007, so I know the office and the building well, and it was great coming back to see some old faces and meet new people.
In my old stint I was a reporter, mainly an entertainment reporter. This time round, older and uglier, I got to sit in the output editor's chair...
Amazing view from the output editor's chair |
There is a recurring character trope among the people who work at Newsbeat. Everyone there is intelligent, committed, knowledgeable, enthusiastic, creative, friendly and hard-working. These are some of the best young radio journalists in the country at the top of their game. It was, as you can imagine, a joy to be working with them, even for a very brief time.
The Newsbeat presenter's studio chair |
Chris Evans, at the height of his notoriety, broadcast from Yalding. John Peel (once considered one of the greatest Britons who ever lived, let's not forget) spent the last chapter of his career based at Yalding. If you ever geared up for a night out with Pete Tong in your kitchen or car - that was coming from Yalding... you get the picture.
Like many of the people in the group photograph above, I grew up with dreams of working at Radio 1. I managed it for a brief time, but on Friday there were people around me who were closing the door on an office they had worked in for ten years or more.
Don't get me wrong, no one was getting too sentimental, and the eighth floor of Broadcasting House is a palace by comparison, but there wasn't a single day I didn't walk into Yalding thinking "Blimey! I'm working at Radio 1! Look! I have a pass that lets me into Radio 1! How the hell did that happen?!"
Now that little chapter is over, I'm off to do other things. Thanks to everyone at Newsbeat who made me feel so welcome (and for the older lags, welcome back). Thanks particularly to Rod McKenzie for giving me the contract, and Jonathan Richards, who gave me the benefit of his expert and clear guidance when I was finding my feet in the first couple of weeks of editing the programme.
And thanks very much to Yalding House. There are a lot of old radio ghosts racketing about in that building. It was nice to be there at the end.
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
On the Mic - Surrey Life - November 2012
Surrey Life's December issue is out, which means I can put my column for November's issue (below) up here.
"I’ve been presenting the breakfast show on BBC Surrey for the last three years. It’s been great, but I’ve decided to move on.
Thankfully the lovely people who look after BBC Surrey have very kindly agreed to let me continue presenting my Saturday show, but my part in hosting the weekday breakfast programme will come to an end. It’s time to give someone else a go.Presenting BBC Surrey breakfast has been a gas. It really has. The best job I’ve ever had, bar none. In the last three years I have met hundreds of extraordinary people and learned a vast amount about our stunningly beautiful county. I have had the opportunity to visit some wonderful places and record some fascinating stories.Here are a few highlights...- Meeting Dame Judi Dench, the wildlife artist David Shepherd and Springwatch’s Chris Packham at the British Wildlife Centre in Lingfield. Dame Judi has been described as the world’s greatest living actress. She also has a thing for red squirrels, she told us, as she officially opened the centre’s new enclosure.
- Trudging through a eighteen inches of snow to our Guildford studios at five in the morning during the winter of 2009/10. At times like this people rely on BBC local radio, and making sure we were able to get to our own buildings was a major logistical operation. The breakfast team had been gathered from all corners and we were holed up in a nearby hotel. When we awoke and saw the amount of snow which had fallen overnight we realised using our cars to make the half mile trip to the station was out of the question. We got on air on time, and as the morning progressed, it became apparent we were playing a critical part in sharing vital information about the state of our snowbound county.- Presenting BBC Surrey breakfast live in the morning sunshine from the 2011 Wimbledon Tennis Championships. Our open-air studio consisted of two computers and a picnic table, five floors up, next to the breakfast bar on the turfed roof of the media centre which overlooks the grounds of the All England Club. It was as glorious as it sounds.- Having a testicle examination live on air. It would be the sort of thing that would make anyone nervous at the best of times. Providing a running commentary into a microphone whilst a doctor had an important part of my body in his hands certainly made for an interesting experience.
- Interviewing a gentleman in my studio about an amateur dramatic production he was directing. I was convinced I had met him before. I had. He was my old headmaster from when I attended West Byfleet Middle School in 1983. I hadn’t seen him for 29 years. I love the way that radio can bring you into contact with the most unlikely people at the most unexpected times.
- Providing a live commentary on the Olympic torch relay as it made its way through Surrey for the final time. Our position on the media bus gave us a grandstand view of everything as it happened. It was surreal, moving, inspiring, emotionally draining and the most fun I think I’ve ever had with a microphone.There have been many more memorable moments, and though part of me is loath to say goodbye, I think it’s the right time. I’ve got a few more things I want to do with my career which just aren’t compatible with getting up at 3.45am six days a week.I will remember my time doing the biggest show on BBC Surrey with considerable fondness. It’s been a privilege doing this job, and I would recommend it to anyone. If you fancy it… there’s a vacancy. Give the boss a call!"
*****************************
You can find some of my previous columns below:
October 2012 - on trying to engage brain and mouth in harmony
September 2012 - on my BBC microphone
August 2012 - on the Olympics
July 2012 - on being on holiday with three small children
June 2012 - on joining a gym
May 2012 - on making live radio
April 2012 - on being ill
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