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…..

- Completely ou...10th Aug 2018
- Ever wondered...9th Aug 2018
- Edinburgh.8th Aug 2018
- To me, to you...6th Aug 2018
- The Poet.5th Aug 2018
- My sister got...4th Aug 2018
- Those I have ...2nd Aug 2018
- I bet he's gl...1st Aug 2018
- RIP Paul Made...31st Jul 2018
- Yes, yes, Dav...29th Jul 2018
- How did you f...28th Jul 2018
- Am I allowed ...27th Jul 2018
- King Kenny.10th Jun 2018
- The death of ...7th Jun 2018
- "We're" now i...27th May 2018 prev next