(As told to Matt Owen)
The beauty of these Littlewood-Knowles Easy-To-Use Blue Asbestos Strippettes is the fact that they’re... Oh dear, smack me on the bottom with your gorgeous outstretched palm and call me a dunderheaded halfwit. Force of habit made me assume that being sat here in front of a microphone meant I was here to do a voice-over. Tish and pish - what a total “loser” I am. Ladies and gentlemen, Mesdames et Messieurs, let me waste no more of your precious time - the time has arrived for me to regale you all with my “pick of the pops”.
(How much am I getting paid for this?)
My first record takes me back to the days when I’d pop into the local MacFisheries and shoplift tins of beer for the ruffians who lived on the local council estate. I’d also buy them their “snout “ and girly magazines with my collection of “moody” credit cards, and in return they reassured me that they wouldn’t “duff me up“. But I digress. ‘Is it something by Wagner?’ Or Beethoven?’, I hear you ask. A noble guess, but on this occasion, a “piss-poor” one. I should tell you now that it’s neither of those eminent gentlemen, but the fellow who was responsible for the magnificent Sir Prancelot Theme. If you aren’t familiar with this psychedelic ditty, then I’m afraid that one could be considered to be “sad”, as the youngsters of today might say.
(Who do I invoice?)
Before I choose my next tune, I must pop into the booth next door and say a few kind words on behalf of Vic’s Double Glazing. Vic is a delightful fellow and has rather generously slipped an envelope full of fifty-pound notes under the door and given me the thumbs up. “Luvverly-Jubberly”, as they say in this “manor”.
Here I am, back and refreshed, having assured the people of Catford that Vic’s Double Glazing provides the very best when it comes to quality, service and value for money (not to mention the fact they’re currently offering a special 10% discount for the whole of February). Actually, I might have to invoice him again - strictly speaking, that could be considered as another “plug”.
Where was I? Ahhhhh, yes. “Top tunes” as my dear friend Mr Christopher Moyles would say. Another record which never fails to tickle my fancy is Nantucket Sleighride by the popular band ‘The Mountain’. I remember hearing that music as I settled down to watch Brian Walden grilling Denis Healey on ‘Weekend World’ about his flirtation with the IMF. Heady days - especially if, like me, you’d purloined a bottle of fortified wine earlier on from the local Wavy Line, demolished it and was sick into your Aunty’s grand piano.
And so my dear, wonderful, easily-pleased victims of circumstance - we now come to my final record. It’s a piece of incidental music called The Doctor Realises He’s Trodden In Sea Devils Shit by the truly wonderful BBC Radiophonic Workshop.
If I was permitted to take just the one book with me, I’d choose something by Sven Hassel, purely on the basis that I like my paperbacks to have a picture of a lantern-jawed Waffen SS officer on the cover.
Last but not least, my little soldiers of fortune, my luxury item would have to be a framed picture of the estimated amount of cash I’m still owed for doing those voiceovers for Ratners in the '80s.
(I don’t do cheques – make sure it’s a BACS payment.)