And what was No.1 when I emerged into a back bedroom in London NW2? A week earlier, it would have been Elvis. A week later, Ray Charles. But no, Pick of the Pops that week was this “humorous” ditty by an unknown cockney actor called Mike Sarne, accompanied by a young Wendy Richard who was already sounding as stroppy and miserable as Pauline Fowler. It isn’t a “classic”, it isn’t “timeless”, it’s dreadful. But Mike and Wendy evoke the time and place of my birth perfectly – in a way neither Elvis or Ray Charles ever could. And isn’t that what a birthday record should do?
Today is my birthday…..

- The man who c...29th Jul 2017
- Ever been out...24th Jul 2017
- A trip to the...22nd Jul 2017
- Are you a mat...17th Jul 2017
- Roger Federer...16th Jul 2017
- Almost exactl...15th Jul 2017
- When you went...12th Jul 2017
- I went to mas...11th Jul 2017
- My first role...9th Jul 2017
- Happy Birthda...3rd Jul 2017
- RIP Barry Nor...2nd Jul 2017
- The deal with...26th Jun 2017
- Do you rememb...25th Jun 2017
- Ed Miliband o...23rd Jun 2017
- Finsbury Park.22nd Jun 2017 prev next