The Day The Day The Music Died Opened Its Doors To The Public
Having been thoroughly reenergised this series ("the difficult fifth series") by our excursions into interactivity and self-imposed spontaneity, and having amassed a network of 355 friends on MySpace (at last count), we decided to do call their bluff, and see if any of them wanted to come in and join us for a recording of the programme. Many of our so-called "friends" made excuses. Some, like Markie B, were almost prepared to give up their jobs to get into London on a Thursday morning. But two - that's Kat and Clare - actually made it, and were shoehorned into our tiny studio yesterday to witness, and contribute from the sidelines to, a hot hour of banter and forced unscriptedness. Clare, a sixth former, turned 18 on Wednesday and was sensibly accompanied by her mum, Kerry, a teacher. She goes to church. Kat is 25 and from Preston. She likes wallpaper paste and The Killers, or at least that's what it says on her MySpace. Their presence added to the creeping "zoo" format that's taking over TDTMD, much to the distaste of one of us (it's Robin), as we handed out Radio 2 merchandise, like Steve Wright towels and Chris Evans chopping boards, and tried to involve our friends in the tapestry of the show, all the while hoping that the trip was worthwhile, and that the peek behind the screens was instructive and not too disappointing. (What? They read from scripts? And Andrew has to retake the whole of the first link at the end? And Robin really is that grumpy?) Whether the end result will include much of Kat and Clare and Clare's Mum remains to be heard, but it was nice to meet our public. (This time last series we didn't even know we had a public!) And if Russell Brand can do it . . .