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…..

- Friday night ...13th Feb 2015
- The name of t...11th Feb 2015
- Another way o...10th Feb 2015
- Mike Leigh re...9th Feb 2015
- Maybe it's a ...8th Feb 2015
- Will they bla...7th Feb 2015
- The only ciga...6th Feb 2015
- Gary Glitter ...5th Feb 2015
- I should have...4th Feb 2015
- Don't worry. ...3rd Feb 2015
- RIP The real ...2nd Feb 2015
- The Curious I...1st Feb 2015
- What's your e...31st Jan 2015
- Why men are s...30th Jan 2015
- Don't you jus...29th Jan 2015 prev next