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A voice for newspapers...
IT'S always deeper and broader than I imagine.
It's always more…Yorkshire.
My voice, I mean, when I hear it not in my own head but down an answerphone or a tape recorder.
I'm not a fan.
It's too deep and too broad for the skinny and shallow bones that birth it.
My dad was wrong. I don't like the sound of my own mouth. I'm a gobby little git in spite of the Boycott-brogue that my bile comes wrapped in.
If some people have a face for radio, I definitely have a voice for newspapers.
So when I was asked recently to go on Calderdale's community radio station, Phoenix FM, to do an interview I heard my sensible self say "No".
And then, moments later, I heard the mouthy little git chime in "But I'll co-host the show."
And then that was that, and yet again, hours later, when the sun was up, I was left wondering how, even now – even when I'm supposed to be a responsible adult and a sensible fully paid-up member of society – I was still letting drunken buffoonery get me into these situations.
And I realised at least Dad seems to have got one thing right: I never learn...
So, Phoenix. It's based down in Dean Clough and while you might think the audiences aren't big enough to get nervous about I can guarantee there were at least four people listening when I appeared.
Namely, two station volunteers in the next room eating sausages and beans, someone who requested a song I didn't like and someone who texted in a question I struggled to answer.
And I can guarantee at least two people have listened to the internet playback since.
Namely, me and her.
I put it on as soon as I got home the same night. I made her listen.
So…
We sat there with it on and I was introduced and I said "Hi" and made some joke which didn't quite work right and – no surprise – just like with every answerphone of myself I've ever heard, it wasn't some super slick Zane Lowe drawl that came out the speakers, it was a Sean Bean slur.
I sat and cringed. I had visions of all four listeners doing the same.
It made me wish for a time when having a regional accent automatically excluded people from going on the wireless.
I told the host this later.
And she sat and she listened and she said I shouldn't be so hard on myself.
And I felt the mouthy, narcissistic git taking over again.
"I'll co-host again next time then, shall I?" I said.
And I heard Dad, miles and miles away, saying "You never learn..."
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Saturday 11 February 2012
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