Since it's early let's keep the false cheer to a minimum

Good Morning Nantwich, Adventures in Breakfast Radio

I bought Phill Jupitus's 'Good Morning Nantwich' today, ostensibly to read during the quiet moments of the Electric Picnic, but since I've just finished it we can assume that said plan is now moot and another trip to the bookshop is in order...

What with the grinning cartoonish cover, the boy's own adventure title and Phill Jupitus' down to earth cheery wit you'd be forgiven for thinking that 'Good Morning Nantwich' is an avuncular, gossipy tale written by a cheeky, cheerful chappy. Think again - clowns are always crying on the inside. 'Good Morning Nantwich' chronicles Mr Jupitus' experiences during his stint at the 6 Music breakfast show, but it is more than that - 'Nantwich' is a manifesto of what music radio should aspire to be.

Phill Jupitus' breakfast show launched 6 Music back in 2002. I didn't listen. Not many people did, but as an avid listener of the recent 'The Perfect 10' podcasts with Jupitus and long time collaborator (and 6 Music producer) Phil Wilding I can only say I missed out. I missed out on on eclectic music, missed out on some decent banter at breakfast (not to mention a presenter who wasn't going to fake being a morning person), and missed out on Wilding's strangely sexy Welsh accent... The music's what's important though, and that was certainly what the breakfast team thought.

Throughout this account, Mr Jupitus' chafes about the various managerial constraints that limit a deejay's freedom, particularly the playlist - why bother to employ someone interested in music if you don't want to hear any of their collection? His criticisms are far from malicious, but neither are they benign. Typically he concedes that first thing in the morning listeners probably didn't want their boat rocked, but come on; if you want to hear Coldplay then why not fuck off and listen to Radio 1, 2 or worse any god awful commercial station where tosh, blather and inanity all go hand in hand. 6 Music was supposed to be Peel's legacy so it should damn well be living up to the name, not trading on it.

Despite a slightly scarring experience at the station Mr Jupitus' has always been vociferous in support of 6 Music and the BBC's mandate alike. He's given various interviews about how 6 Music has once again found its feet and was one of the key spokespeople who campaigned against its closure. His commitment is unquestionably undiminished, but one can't help hear a heartfelt sigh echoing through 'Nantwich' of how much more 6 Music could still achieve were it not crippled by corporation bureaucracy. Not because Jupitus wants to be back on the air, but because he's part of its core disenfranchised demographic - the music snob, and without aspirational radio stations, (like 6 Music at its best) all music snobs have are their own mp3s to listen to and their own vinyl collections to reorganise. Okay, that's hyperbole - there are blogs too, but when did radio become so circumscribed?

With no small amount of charm Phill Jupitus has written a behind the scenes story of the foundation of a music station, a template for forward thinking broadcasting, and conveyed a touching and touchy autobiography that's reminiscent of former Auteur's frontman Luke Hain's 'Bad Vibes - Britpop and My Part In Its Downfall'. 'Nantwich' is nothing short of one a giant 'harumph' ( harumph -the bitter sigh that fed up dogs occasionally make) of deprecation, despair and independence albeit tempered with wit and the virtues of hindsight. Or as Phill put it in a recent Guardian interview it's "a love letter to radio, but also an apology for not being better at it".

I'd expected a lighthearted holiday read, instead 'Nantwich' is a passionate plea for intelligent radio and a call for deejays to receive faith from their bosses, not to mention freedom from focus groups and RAJAR pressures. Above all it's a reverberating statement of "damn you all, I really tried". Not a bad read all in all.

Top marks to Phill. He always has lovely suits too.

Podcast Reviews - Collins and Herring vs The Perfect 10

I'm a firm fan of comedy podcasts - particularly the free ones, where the comedians do it out of the goodness of their own hearts rather than cobbling together the best bits of a radio show (tch! Adam and Joe). Especially, because I'm rather malicious, when the podcastees moan about their lack of sponsorship or honest to goodness jobs in radio or TV. Comedy via a podcast is a refreshing way to listen to favourite performers- especially those who choose to work without a script, like Richard Herring and Andrew Collins, or Phill Jupitus and sidekick Phil Wilding. These funny men demonstrate their amazing wit and ability to ramble, but with interest, on all sorts of topics. It makes you appreciate why they can be funny for a living and get away with it.

The 'Collings and Herrin' (misspelling is deliberate) podcast represents one end of the professional scale; they chat away in Richard's attic about whatever - though ginger beer, necrophilia and views through the window crop up an awful lot. I know it sounds dreary but never has looking through a window been so entertaining - aside from Rear Window that is; I am eagerly awaiting the day when life starts imitating art in the London loft space.

These two men eschew proper sound equipment and a pay packet in favour of un-policed swearing, hilarious flights of fancy and very, very witty and ironic dirty jokes. Well they didn't so much 'eschew' decent sound as reject it by necessity - they couldn't get it to work. Rich and Andy are the do it yourself podcast kings, and though we'd all like to believe we could be consistently funny for an hour, it must be a hard feat - they do it for free!

It's probably not everyones' cup of tea, and sometimes the quality can vary a bit, which Rich points out is because their doing a live hour long unscripted performance every week. I have to say though that despite being an acquired taste if you like your humour to be gently warped then you won't go far wrong. When asked the other day in a special live podcast to a professional radio audience, whether they were doing it until anything better came along they both immediately rejected the notion out of hand; Herring pointed out he has soldiered on through hangovers, food poisoning and the flu. The two of the, just enjoy chatting for the benefit of other people. Which sounds eerily philanthropic really. When Richard's not encouraging women to flash him that is.

Like Collins and Herring, Phill Jupitus and Phil Wilding's 'Perfect 10' started as a means to recreate the magic of a now defunct 6 music partnership. Unlike Rich and Andy however, the two Phils are consummate professionals; the sound is good, Steven Fry does the links (!), and the concept isn't just any old rambling, but rambling about 10 randomly chosen subjects, with a bell to time out. And, and, because Phil Wilding's Welsh he is eloquent (his words). The Perfect 10 has made it onto my subscription list with ease; it's a fantastic little show, which never fails to have me in stitches when I'm listening in.

In their discussions the two Phil(l)s throw up the deeper questions of life; what would you like to loose in space? Would you drink something Rolf Harris offered you? Is it possible to go to Ireland and not get drunk?* My flatmate probably thinks I'm mad as I chuckle away to myself, but I urge you to give it a try and you won't be disappointed.

Podcasts don't have any duty of care to their listenership, there's no sacred trust to shelter wee ears from vulgarity, risque concepts, or just waffle, and it's sometimes out of the waffle that comedy gold is struck. They are a great way of listening to new and original material in these icey credit crunch climes; some are polished, others are not, but generally when you hear a performer talking away just from the sheer love of it then it's enough to warm the cockles of your heart and brighten the day with laughter. Give 'em a go.

* I don't think so, despite my experience of a health spa/music festival once. I ran out of money at the Electric Picnic and was forced to scavenge for coins on the floor in order to buy bread: this is a true story. Instead of the ludicrously priced fermented beverages I was humiliated but thirsty enough to resort to drinking free samples of iced tea and thank god for it. Even that spartan time was because of a huge night out in Dublin and having to buy wellies (the weather report lied).