For many, many years now
On certain weekday evenings
Broke, bored or hungover
Dumped, drained or just down
In company or alone
There was always the radio.
"That was Half-Man Half Biscuit
with Dickie Davis Eyes..."
And there was the John Peel Show
Now when you consider
That this particular deejay
Has for over thirty years,
played records, which some
would regard as unplayable...
"... in session tonight, The Fall
and I must confess I've not ..."
As long as he felt they would
be of some merit to someone,
somewhere, he played them.
" ..from Ron Johnson Records"
You the listener will not relax.
Not knowing what may come next
"...this is Extreme Noise Terror...
...can't pronounce the title of this
er...may've been the wrong speed"
But knowing that at some point
You may have to turn the volume
temporarily, either up or down,
"....Flaming Lips and this is...
The Spark that Bled
- not THE Kenny Dalgliesh of course"
Wish him well on a winter night
As he slogs home to Stowmarket
Carboot clogged with cassettes.
Or standing scruffy, anonymous
In some village hall viewing
some band you've never heard of
"...and in the end, you may as well
just throw away all the rule books"
Because John Peel is Radio.