Pop Shield

t’s time for charming Victorian scarecrow Rusty Claypole’s show live on Nations Favourite, and I’m in the hot seat.  Indie rock widow Chardonnay Rose shows up as an impromptu guest.  She waltzes directly into the studio via door off the corridor while the mics are open.  Then she just starts chatting, off-mic, like she is playing an extra in a party scene of a movie.  Not INTERRUPTING A LIVE RADIO SHOW.  Rusty makes a joke about her ditzy behaviour and manages to bring her closer to a microphone.  He then announces to the nation that Chardonnay Rose will be singing live in session after the next record.

I am beyond displeased. “That’s ridiculous!” I splutter.

“Oh, it will be ok”, says the producer.

“Oh no it won’t!” I harrumph.

Naturally, it wasn’t.  During the three-minute record, I run down the corridor to the kit cupboard, run back, rig an acoustic guitar mic, point it towards a man who has bumbled in. Presumably to play guitar, but your guess is good as mine.  Just time to run back into the control room, dial up the channel, check it’s all working and sprinkle a little fairy dust on it.  The only problem being that upon returning to my seat with seconds to go, I find none other than PETE MCINTYRE THE HYPNOTIST parked in it. Oh, this just gets better and better.

“Excuse me!”

“Hey, if you want me to help do all this, that’s fine, I used to work in local radio.”

“No thank you!”

There then ensues a lot more screeching into microphones, returning my job to an exercise in distortion-limitation.

The programme ends and the studio fills with this entourage who are laughing and drinking champagne and eating sushi while I try and retrieve headphones off the floor and derig the studio around them. Oh, the glamour.