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…..

- Hottest June ...21st Jun 2017
- I love this t...19th Jun 2017
- Sir Billy Con...17th Jun 2017
- Pow!!14th Jun 2017
- Jeremy Corbyn...9th Jun 2017
- Three things ...5th Jun 2017
- It was fifty ...1st Jun 2017
- The Chelsea F...29th May 2017
- RIP Roger Moore24th May 2017
- Save the pray...23rd May 2017
- Crouch End....22nd May 2017
- The LSE.20th May 2017
- We've reached...14th May 2017
- Nike's killer...10th May 2017
- President Mac...8th May 2017 prev next