…then we’ll begin. Thus began Listen with Mother, one of the many radio programmes that accompanied my childhood in the 1950’s and 60’s. And I think my own children probably listened to it too, or to its later incarnation Listening Corner. Here’s how the show used to begin, together with another favourite, Children’s Choice.
I should probably have issued a warning before you clicked on that link, likely as it is to transport you to a forgotten age of nostalgia where before you know it you’ll have spent a happy hour or two clicking on all the links for BBC Classic Themes or even whole episodes! By the way, I’ve chosen the shortest clips I could find but if you find them going on a bit too long, you won’t lose anything if you just press the pause button when you’ve had enough and move on to the next one. I do have to also include the the Listen with Mother closing theme, the piano duet from Fauve’s Dolly Suite, and, I seem to remember, the signal for younger sisters to go to bed.
There are many, many more examples of these old radio tunes – Music While you Work, Housewives Choice, 2-Way Family Favourites, Dick Barton Special Agent, Friday Night is Music Night – I could go on and on! In fact I’m listening to BBC 50’s Radio Themes as I write this, which is slowing me down somewhat as I keep having to stop and listen to yet another old favourite. Perhaps it would be best if I just left you to explore on your own so you can re-discover, or indeed discover for the first time, some of these iconic themes which used to be so much part of the background of daily life, especially in the couple of decades after WW2 when the BBC Home and Light Programmes held sway. I suppose many families had got used to listening to the radio together during the war and the habit just carried on afterwards. If you feel like it, it would be great if you added a comment about your own particular memories.
I remember our old wireless at home as looking something like this. It was an old valve set and was the subject of much tinkering by my Dad (who, remember, had been a radio operator in the War and the Merchant Navy, and the sort of little boy who would send away for and construct crystal radio sets at home). We would watch Dad as he occasionally replaced a broken valve, with many warnings about it being hot and not to be touched. I’m pretty sure HE sometimes inadvertently burnt or shocked himself because I can picture him snapping his hand away with silent curses and sticking it under his armpit. Do as I say, not as I do!
Actually, while I am thinking about my Dad, I must just digress for a moment to share a memory from my sister Ann, who reminded me of another example of his sense of fun. He would pull a wooden board from beside the cooker and do a wee tap dance on it. “I think we latterly rolled our eyes at him but still.. it was so Dad.”
We girls also did our fair share of fiddling with the knobs as we tried to tune in to the exotic sounding stations printed on the front – Luxembourg, Hilversum, Paris. It seemed quite an achievement when you actually managed to tune in through the crackles to a programme from somewhere far away with an announcer speaking in a language you couldn’t understand. Dad would explain all about short wave and long wave and how the radio signals bounced around the globe, which somehow made it seem more like science to me and therefore more impressive. My sister Mary recalls the exciting feeling that you were contacting the world directly. Remember this was in the days when the radio used to actually close down at night; 24-hour news and the internet would have seemed unimaginable to us then.
I’d like to share an anecdote with you, which my then (now ex) husband Peter used to tell. When he was a wee boy in the early sixties (picture a little chap with short trousers and, if it was raining, wellies which would leave red rims round his bare legs), he’d arrive home from school, usually desperate for the loo, and would hear Mrs Dale’s Diary come on the radio from inside the house. Of course his mother would be at the back of the house listening so would often not hear the bell. Of course, the Mrs Dale theme featured a rippling harp, a bit like a waterfall, and sure enough as soon as he heard the first strains, the inevitable would happen and poor Peter would have an accident. Needless to say once the wellies dried out they would smell terrible! Thank you Peter for allowing me to share your shame!
If you browse the You-Tube clips, you’ll see that there are many comments and memories attached and it’s immediately clear just how many people share feelings of familiarity and nostalgia for these old tunes, reminding them of their childhoods, which it does me too, of course. Browsing through the comments, one of my favourites, about The Archers theme, came from a chap called Joseph Murphy who was remembering his nan. You should play this while you read the story!
My nan always said that she wanted this played at her funeral before we leave. Back in January when she passed away, everyone was in tears but before we left the funeral part, this tune came on. Everyone in that room was either laughing or smiling, even the vicar.
As an Archers addict myself, I am entirely in sympathy with this tale, though I don’t know that I would go as far as having the theme tune played at my funeral! Having said that I WAS actually toying with the idea of calling this post “Confessions of an Archers Addict” as I seem to have been listening to this “everyday story of country folk” for most of my life!
In fact because my radio listening has continued seamlessly into my adult life right up to the present day I am often confused as to exactly WHEN I first starting listening to shows like Woman’s Hour, Desert Island Discs and other long running series, some of which started before I was even born. All I know is that when certain themes come on, they can evoke such strong feelings of longing and nostalgia it can almost make me cry. A case in point is the Dolly Suite duet, and this one, the Paul Temple Theme,
However I’m rather careful about imagining that this was a better and more innocent era. Perhaps it’s just us who were more innocent – who doesn’t think that things were better when they were a child? But that’s not to say that I’m not perfectly happy to wallow in all this nostalgia occasionally – there IS something about these jaunty upbeat tunes that gives you comfort and reminds you of a simpler time. I wonder if “Dolly” would be a suitable choice for my funeral…?