Speechification

We're big fans of Andrew McGibbon here at Speechification, we've posted his 'I Was Douglas Adams' Flat Mate' and I was sure we'd put I Was Morrisey's Drummer up as well, but now I can't find it. Anyway, you can probably work out what this one's about. It's top radio. MP3 here.

In this lovely Between The Ears, poet Leni Dipple sets out to find out what made her husband and Mole Jazz proprietor Ed tick.

Here's the MP3, here's a page from Fly with some more history, here's a poem by Leni and here's a page of recordings from the British Library's oral history of British Jazz that you might be able to listen to if you're at a British university or college.

I've always liked the sound of jazz, but never really liked the music. The soundscapes, the tones are perfect and inviting and lovely. And then, after the first go round with the tune it dissolves into tedious improvisatory wibbling. So when I was alerted to this programme about Miles Davis and So What by a helpful twitter I wasn't hopeful. But, but, this almost got to me. It's not so much the stories about why people like it, it's the stories of what went into it, what was going on in the world. Anyway, whatever, you don't care about that, if you think I'm a horrible philistine you're going to like this stuff anyway. And if you're sort of with me, and even if you don't like the track, this is still a magnificent programme. (There's a slight silent pause in the audio right at the beginning. Sorry.) MP3 here.

Extraordinary stuff this; the story of Pannonica Rothschild, eccentric British aristo who ended up embedded in the New York BeBop scene. But don't let me tell you, look at this huge and comprehensive website devoted to the programme. There's even an MP3 we can link to for your listening pleasure.

Humph was Shadow Controller of Radio 4. He was secretly in charge of the whole thing. You can't understate his importance to the network. Only in the next weeks and months will we understand what we’ve lost. Humphrey Lyttelton was an accidental comic genius who, over the decades, came to set the station’s comedic tone: which was somewhere between withering senior common room irony and joyful, anarchic surrealism—and all without writing a single word.

While Clue was moving to the centre of the British radio comedy universe, becoming its timeless and unassailable mascot, Humph was modestly assuming the top spot himself. Shows came and went, comedians came and went. None could touch Humph who was, after all, a bloody trumpeter. We’ve lost our Controller of Beautifully Timed Sarcasm and our Controller of Barely Permissible Innuendo. Worse than that, I think we’re going to find we’ve lost our comedy anchor.

Here, to remember him by, is an edition of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue from 1998. It was recorded in Windsor (MP3).