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…..

- FCK.24th Feb 2018
- Jukebox Jimmy.17th Feb 2018
- A new job at ...15th Feb 2018
- Finest hour.30th Jan 2018
- Australia Day...27th Jan 2018
- The Fallen.25th Jan 2018
- Arms and the ...22nd Jan 2018
- Nice one, Cyr...21st Jan 2018
- Short Stories.20th Jan 2018
- Funerals are ...9th Jan 2018
- John, Paul an...8th Jan 2018
- For this alon...7th Jan 2018
- A Grandmother...24th Nov 2017
- The greatest ...22nd Nov 2017
- The differenc...19th Nov 2017 prev next