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…..

- Chris Evans t...6th Sep 2018
- No, thanks. I...2nd Sep 2018
- How I spent S...1st Sep 2018
- He'd have bee...29th Aug 2018
- Most gripping...28th Aug 2018
- Football, box...27th Aug 2018
- Mass exodus.26th Aug 2018
- Why you don't...25th Aug 2018
- I thought I w...21st Aug 2018
- The 2018 Brit...20th Aug 2018
- Pointless.19th Aug 2018
- Bindon.18th Aug 2018
- The Queen of ...17th Aug 2018
- First and for...16th Aug 2018
- That's what J...13th Aug 2018 prev next