Terry Wogan does his last breakfast show tomorrow: the end of en era.
Wogan's brand of broadcasting is unique. Yes, other presenters interact with newsreaders, producers and traffic news announcers, but no-one else manages to include the listener, who can be made to feel with other shows like an eavesdropper on a private conversation. Yes, other presenters read out listeners' comments, but Wogan's constant self-deprecation and his delight at his loving audience's mock-insults is a far cry from those who select only the fawning messages — Steve Wright in particular clearly adores reading out the words "I love your show".
Wogan's very voice sets him apart from the younger broadcasters: rich, deep, warm, ( Radio 2's more recent male presenters have voices that are lighter, higher, less distinct from each other.)
Wogan has managed to keep the spirit of old-fashioned and traditional British humour fresh, alive and kicking — double entendres, rhymes built up then deflected at the last moment, jokes that sail very close to the wind indeed… Not entirely clean fun, but innocently mucky, introducing a particular kind of humour to younger audiences who have no idea who the Lord Chamberlain was nor what machinations writers went through to avoid his blue pencil.
Wogan isn't retiring completely — he starts a new show on Sundays from February — but the morning commute won't be the same again. The laughs and the thought-provoking comments, the fun and the sense of belonging to a community, being "in" with the in-jokes, even if you haven't tuned in for weeks: all of that will be history from tomorrow, leaving only the bittersweetness of nostagia.
Wogan set an unmatchable standard and will leave a gap that cannot be filled.
Thanks, Terry, for making mornings something to look forward to.
Wogan's brand of broadcasting is unique. Yes, other presenters interact with newsreaders, producers and traffic news announcers, but no-one else manages to include the listener, who can be made to feel with other shows like an eavesdropper on a private conversation. Yes, other presenters read out listeners' comments, but Wogan's constant self-deprecation and his delight at his loving audience's mock-insults is a far cry from those who select only the fawning messages — Steve Wright in particular clearly adores reading out the words "I love your show".
Wogan's very voice sets him apart from the younger broadcasters: rich, deep, warm, ( Radio 2's more recent male presenters have voices that are lighter, higher, less distinct from each other.)
Wogan has managed to keep the spirit of old-fashioned and traditional British humour fresh, alive and kicking — double entendres, rhymes built up then deflected at the last moment, jokes that sail very close to the wind indeed… Not entirely clean fun, but innocently mucky, introducing a particular kind of humour to younger audiences who have no idea who the Lord Chamberlain was nor what machinations writers went through to avoid his blue pencil.
Wogan isn't retiring completely — he starts a new show on Sundays from February — but the morning commute won't be the same again. The laughs and the thought-provoking comments, the fun and the sense of belonging to a community, being "in" with the in-jokes, even if you haven't tuned in for weeks: all of that will be history from tomorrow, leaving only the bittersweetness of nostagia.
Wogan set an unmatchable standard and will leave a gap that cannot be filled.
Thanks, Terry, for making mornings something to look forward to.
