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So, it’s true.

Erstwhile home of The Steve Show and favourite radio station of everyone who likes music, 6 Music is to be shut down by the BBC.

In a strategy report released today, the BBC announced that 6 Music and the Asian Network are to close, along with cutbacks to their website and various other tinkerings.

I fell in love with 6 Music the first time I turned on my brand new DAB radio and heard them playing Husker Du.  No-one plays Husker Du.  I woke up to the grumpy mumblings of Phill Jupitus, I nodded off to Marc Riley in the evenings, and often considered throwing a sickie just to tune in to the brilliant Gideon Coe.

And then, incredibly, we got the gig!  Where else would a bunch of utterly unqualified hangers-on like us be allowed to broadcast for two hours a week on national radio?  Apart from talkSPORT, maybe?

Now don’t get me wrong – 6 Music isn’t perfect.  I’ve never understood the point of 6 Music News Music News, the playlist can be a bit annoying during the week, and then there’s George Lamb.  Also, it took them ages to sort out our passes for the building, the security guards on reception were useless, and finding a pair of headphones that worked was always the toughest assignment of the afternoon.

6 also had a big part to play in the rise and rise of ‘landfill indie’, the dreary corporate alterno-fodder used in the trails for every E4 show.

But by playing interesting, often challenging stuff that you really don’t hear anywhere else, by giving a platform to hundreds of lesser-known artists to play live sessions, and by having some of the most musically articulate and passionate DJs around, 6 Music really is unique.  Maconie’s FreakZone?  The Craig Charles Funk & Soul Show?  The aforementioned Coe and Riley? Garvey, Cocker, Robinson?

And yet it has to go.  The BBC is shutting down a station that could not exist in the commercial world.  We sometimes received bleating emails from unhinged listeners carping on about how playing something that they didn’t like was somehow against the remit of the station, which was obviously bollocks, but at least proved the passion of the station’s supporters.  Today’s decision, to me, flies in the face of the remit of the BBC.  

If they’re going to shut anything down (in what is, let’s face it, a pre-emptive strike against a BBC-hostile Tory government which may not even be voted in), it should really be Radio1 – there are countless commercial stations that replicate the output of Radio1, and the cost saving would be off the scale of anything announced today.

Of course, everyone should join the Facebook group, but frankly, once businesses make decisions like this, they tend not to change them.  You might as well join a group appealing for the return of New Coke, or the abolition of Tuesdays. 

If I’ve learnt anything over the last 12 months, it’s that no matter how inept a business decision, the individuals responsible will fall behind it and defend it to the death, and hope that people eventually just give up the fight.

But wait – what’s this?  The chairman of the BBC Trust has said that the decision could be overturned if there is ‘massive public concern’.  And absurd shadow culture spokesman Ed Vaizey is now apparently a huge 6Music fan.

So take to the streets.  Daub pro-Nemone slogans on your duvet covers and hang them from motorway bridges.  Don Shaun Keaveney facemasks and storm the town halls of this fair land.  Raze the studios of XFM to the ground and dissect the corpses with sharpened Fall CDs. 

Let’s save 6Music.

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My Five And A Bit Musical Highlights of 2009

by

Stephen Merchant

5. This Tornado Loves You - Neko Case

I always think Neko Case sounds like a small piece of carry-on luggage you might find for sale in Muji.

Oh, what a charming fool I am. Ms Case is of course the flame-haired alt-country siren and sometime vocalist with The New Pornographers.

This, the opening track from her fifth album Middle Cyclone, sees Neko as a destructive tornado rampaging across the States in search of some missing beau.

Lovely.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FhVbyeWFvo

4. Leeds United -  Amanda Palmer

On February 1^st, as The Steve Show limped towards it’s unmourned end, we played host to a live session from Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls.

Amanda is a wild, wonderful presence, full of the same energy and eccentricity that infuses her solo album Who Killed Amanda Palmer.

One of the highlights of the album is the song Leeds United, which she bashed out live on a keyboard in the studio and dazzled us all with her fiery performance.

On the album version, Amanda’s voice is frazzled by a long day in the recording studio, which injects a wild, ravaged passion to a song that feels like it’s lifted from some great gothic cabaret.

It’s on constant rotation round my way. Tremendous.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=i62UF7uROGU

3b. Say Please - Monsters of Folk

Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis, Jim James from My Morning Jacket and sing/songwriter M. Ward have formed Monsters of Folk, an alt-country super-group with a terrible name but some cracking tunes, including this rollicking indie/folk/rock/pop nugget.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BgIUJpugr0

3a. Two Weeks - Grizzly Bear

My mate was like, “You should listen to Grizzly Bear’s new album” and I was like, “No, it’s not my thing” and he’s like, “No, I reckon it is” and I was like, “Yeah?” and he was like, “Yeah, totally” and I listened to it and I was like, “Yeah, it’s good, nice one” and he’s like, “Yeah, no problem”

www.youtube.com/watch?v=tjecYugTbIQ

2. The Breeze/My Baby Cries  -  Bill Callahan

As former listeners of The Steve Show will know, Tiny Dan believes we should all adore mindless pseudo-jazz electro-twaddle, Harry gets off on shouty American men and who knows what the heck Sammy is listening to in any given week.

They are all idiots, which is the reason I fired them all and quit the show.

The truth is there is nothing more affecting than a talented person, their voice, a guitar or piano, some quality lyrics and, if needs absolutely must, one or two session men. That’s why Bob Dylan’s Blood On The Tracks and Neil Young’s On The Beach are two albums I carry on my person at all times.

Sadly, in our age of retro 80s synths and R n B loudmouths, it’s increasingly hard to wheedle out the raw beauty of a talented singer/songwriter.

My vampiric bloodlust for fresh singer/songwriter meat is rarely sated, so imagine how thrilled I was to stumble across Loving Takes This Course: A Tribute to the Songs of Kath Bloom.

Kath Bloom was a folkie with many admirers but no great commercial success who retreated to Conneticut to raise kids sometime in the 1980s.

The seductive, six-minute stand-out track from this recent tribute album is by Smog main-man Bill Callahan.

Over simple guitar, keyboard and low-key percussion, Bill’s whispering growl of a voice and Bloom’s heartfelt lyrics hypnotise me on every listen. “I’d like to touch you, but I’ve forgotten how…And said I didn’t need you, but look at me now…”.

I promise it will melt even the coldest of hearts. (Harry, that means you)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBiEMPXDAXM

Start the video at 1.25, ignore someone falling over out of shot at 2.43…

1. Because The Night – Bruce Springsteen Live At Glastonbury, 2009.

I nearly missed Bruce Springsteen at Glastonbury.

The plan was simple : race down to the festival Saturday morning, worship The Boss when he headlined the main stage that night, then crash-out in a tent for a few hours and drive home again the next day.

I woke up Saturday morning as excited as an orphan on Christmas Day when he knows Noel Edmonds is on his way round with a camera crew and a trip to Legoland in his back pocket.

I leapt in the car – and the bastard wouldn’t start. It just spluttered and choked and did nothing. Bastard.

I began a frantic dash around local car-hire shops to find a replacement, all the while sweating at the thought of poor Bruce saying “Good evening Glass-ton-bury” and not seeing my beaming face staring back at him. How would he get through the show?

Finally I paid some crazy price for a tiny car my 6’7” frame could barely squeeze into, picked up a pal en route and drove south like a demon (a demon who obeyed all speed regulations, naturally).

I made it to Glasto mere hours before Bruce and the E Street Band took to the stage but I couldn’t relax as I needed to pitch the tent before darkness fell. From bitter past experience I knew you don’t want to be erecting a tent in the dark at Glastonbury.

My friend had promised to pack his tent but he’d let me down. Luckily I’d had a distant memory of a tent that I had bought years ago for a previous festival but never used.

I had found it, unopened, in the back of a cupboard and thrown in the car. Now, as the sun began to set, I unfurled the tent and out fell ground sheets and metal poles and rubber hoops – and everyone around me started laughing.

Apparently, tents have changed a lot since I last slept under canvas. Now they are all bendy and pop-up. Mine looked like a proper old school Carry On Camping tent minus bubbly Babs Windsor and her poorly fastened bikini top.

“Nick that off some Brownies?” chortled a passer-by.

“Fuck off!” I said, brilliantly.

As more pointing and laughing rippled around the field, I slipped off into the night and tramped my way over to the main stage.

The Boss divided opinion. He played an uncompromising set, which was a thrill for die-hard fans but probably featured too few sing-a-long hits to convert all the heathens.

Some of the strangers around me seemed suitably impressed by Bruce’s unparalleled showmanship; others said they found his hard-working rock ‘n’ roll schtick corny, which I didn’t understand.

Oh well. I wasn’t going to defend the man.

For me it was an electrifying performance.

At one point, the cool night air hit Bruce’s over-heating body and he began to steam. Actual steam rose up from him. Backlit by the stage lights he looked like some glorious rock ‘n’ roll demon/angel and for believers like myself he seemed even more Messianic than usual.

There is nothing quite like Saturday night in front of the main stage at Glasto.

That vast, seemingly never-ending sea of expectant faces, the homemade signs, the setting sun, the overpriced beer — it’s joyful.

And as I finished hollering along to the chorus of Because The Night I remember actually shouting “This is the greatest night of my life.”

And I believed it.

But it wasn’t the greatest night of my life because I had to sleep in a tent that was 25 years old. With people constantly unzipping the flaps and peering in and saying, “Look, I told you, it’s that bloke off the telly. He’s nicked this off some Girl Guides”, and then swaying off into the night to tell more drugged up knuckle-heads where they could laugh at me.

But as their jeers and taunts spoiled my sleep I thought back to Bruce’s performance :

“They can’t hurt you now / can’t hurt you now / Because the night belongs to lovers…”

And everything was okay.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=pDiS33rxSG0

MERRY CHRISTMAS ONE AND ALL…

.

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The world of bloody awful Saturday night dross was shocked to it’s soulless core tonight as Simon Cowell unleashed his latest weapon in the reality TV ratings war – a dead ex-Eastender coupled with a pop legend.

X Factor became more like Ex Actor as deceased Mike Reid, of no living age, appeared alongside Whitney Houston in one of the most astonishing comebacks in TV history.  Having played the nation’s favourite dodgy car dealer Frank Butcher in Eastenders, Reid was ideally placed to rise from his grave and assess the singing talents of the bright young popstrels, all hoping to be the next big thing.

If the nation accepts this unprecedented return to life from an ex-soap star, Cowell has secretly lined up a number of similar voice-coach grave-rob double acts for future editions of this derivative, ball-achingly mindless slop.

Controversially, his next pairing will be the late Wendy Richard (seen here as launderette hag Pauline Fowler) and the nicest man in rock, Dave Grohl, for next week’s rock show.  The Foo Fighter has reportedly told friends ‘The chance to work with the dearly departed Wendy will be a blast – she’s been through so much, what with husband Arthur’s death, her son Mark contracting HIV, and then her death in real life, that she will have some awesome advice for those kids’.

Louis Walsh has played a key role in finally uniting bubbly pop failures B*Witched with the actor whose name while alive was Bryan Mosley, who of course played Coronation Street’s heavyweight shopkeeper Alf Roberts.  His portrayal of Alf’s unrequited love for Rita Fairclough is something Mosley, dead since 1999, thinks he can bring to the X Factor table. ‘Every great love song is one of unrequited love – if I can help the performers capture some of the emotion I brought to the role of Alf while alive during the forthcoming ’ballad week’ on X Factor, it will be worth the shock to my family of seeing me on screen again’. 

Finally, in what will be the X Factor Christmas series finale, I can reveal that Cowell has worked miracles to a) reform Destiny’s Child and b) couple them with the late Gretchen Franklin, the delightfully muddled Ethel from Eastenders.

Beyonce was overheard on a recent transatlantic flight commenting that Franklin was ‘the sweetest little deceased English lady’ she’d ever met, and felt that her comically named ex-dog Willie was the one thing that brought Destiny’s Child back together.  ‘We’d never have even been in the same room as one another if it wasn’t for that dead lady’s dead dog’. 

The BBC are expected to fight back by revealing that Strictly Come Dancing host Bruce Forsyth has been brain dead for several years.

Appalled by the desecration of the memory of our most loved soap stars, or delighted to see your favourite characters return for one more outing?  Any dead soap star/living pop star combos you’d like to see?  Comment below…

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