Radio Daze

Ever wondered what it is like to present a radio show? Giles Brown, Marbella’s man behind the microphone, lets us in on a few secrets from the studio…

RADIO daze

Like so many things in what is laughingly referred to as my career thus far, I fell into radio by accident. A decade ago, I was editor of a glossy magazine that reported on the good, bad and frequently extremely ugly goings on of celebrities in Marbella. This was at the height of The Only Way is Essex fever, and so mainly entailed the exploits of Arg, Joey Essex, Gemma and other intellectual heavyweights as they partied with a seemingly inexhaustible array of soap stars, footballers and assorted WAGs and Influencers. Pulitzer Prize winning journalism it wasn’t.

It did, however, lead to me being invited to provide a weekly guest slot on Talk Radio Europe, discussing who was doing what to whom, where, and frequently for how much. As the shy and retiring person that I am (stop sniggering at the back) I took to radio like the proverbial fowl to water and was ultimately asked if I would be interested in hosting my own show.

Being the solitary type of person who spends most of his spare time sitting in a darkened room, talking to himself and playing music, hosting a live radio show, where you sit on your own in a darkened room, talking to yourself and playing music, required very few new skills. Although on air you are merrily wittering away to several thousand people – or at least you hope you are. One of my first shows was a weekend late night slot, where the audience seemed to be made up entirely of old rockers who had been on the ‘vino collapso’ all day – you know, the ones that come in cartons – and would call in, somewhat ‘over refreshed’ and ask for Judas Priest.

Eventually I progressed to shows where I had the opportunity to interview live guests. The way it normally works is that the interview subject has a biography or autobiography to publicise, so is perfectly happy to chat for 20 minutes or so. Anyone who has lived in Marbella for

a considerable amount of time has the necessary skill set to conduct these interviews as we have all had those friendly half hour conversations with strangers, normally at the bar, that go along the lines of “where are you from, what do you do?”

There are some interviews however, that you must do your homework for. Interviewing former ministers such as Jack Straw, Lord Howard or Geoff Hoon, or the then British Ambassador Simon Manley, required considerable research if I wasn’t to appear more clueless than normal. Even then, some interviewees can be difficult. Columnist Peter Hitchens dismissed me out of hand, while another British journalist claimed that I had been curt to her husband when I called to check she was still available for her live interview (I hadn’t). She took me to task for my perceived rudeness in no uncertain terms 30 seconds before we went live. Needless to say, it wasn’t one of my favourite interviews.

On the other hand, some celebrities have been a joy to talk to. Being a complete petrol head, I was a little bit nervous about interviewing ex Formula 1 winner and now Sky Sports commentator Johnny Herbert, but we talked all things motor racing for 45 minutes. Long Way Round star, Charlie Boardman was a genuinely lovely bloke who confessed that he couldn’t wait to get on a motorbike and blast up the Ronda road. The great Nile Rodgers from Chic told me story after story as he sat waiting for his connection at an airport, including writing Good Times and having David Bowie sit on the end of his bed playing the acoustic version of a song he had just written, Let’s Dance.

AND THEN THERE WAS EVA LONGORIA…

I have a thing about pint sized Latina pocket rockets and especially the Desperate Housewives star. I was once having a conversation with a friend about changing surnames when you get married. “If I married Eva,” I famously said, “I wouldn’t care what I was called. I’d be happy being known as Fluffy Longoria.” And hence a new nickname was born.

So, I was more than a little excited when I actually got to interview Eva at a Press event for the Global Gift Gala. I was cool, calm, collected and totally professional, until the moment that she sat down across from me. ›

Suffice to say that she is one of those stars who are so beautiful that you find yourself grinning insanely and asking the most banal questions. Not only that, but for some inexplicable reason my left leg decided to start shaking at the beginning of the interview in a strange and deranged Riverdance manner. At least she had the good grace to smile, answer my questions and pose for a photo with me, rather than just reaching for the taser and zapping me.

The Festive Season is also one of my favorite times to be on air. Not because I am awash with Christmas Cheer, but there is usually a huge supply of chocolate in the studio. Being virtually impossible to have live guests on the show, I tend to present ‘Best of’ compilations that involve me saying, “Here’s an interview that I did earlier this year,” pressing the play button, making another coffee and deciding whether I should plump for hard or soft centres. The Christmas morning show is without doubt the best of the year. The listeners are always in a good mood, as they are normally on the second Bucks Fizz of the day. My first Christmas Day broadcast was a little more harrowing, however. I threw open the phone lines and started to take calls from listeners thanking me for the show, as they were on their own and I was the only English voice they would hear that day. I finished that first twohour stint a blubbering mess.

Finally, there is ‘Viewpoint’, the current affairs phone-in show where listeners get a chance to air their opinions on the issues of the day. It is obviously a live show, and by that, I mean that when I open the phone lines I have absolutely no idea what the caller is going to say.

It can make for some, ermmm, ‘interesting’ listening. What with Brexit, Trump and the Coronavirus pandemic, I have had to field the whole spectrum of theories, from the straight down the line scientific to the ‘world being run by a cabal of subterranean shape shifting lizards’ school of thought or even one declaring that Life is a Pina Colada. I have also come in for a fair amount of flak when I cut the wilder calls short, as I am then guilty of being part of the dreaded Mainstream Media and of being an on-air dictator. Guilty as charged, although I do see myself as more of a broadcasting Fidel than Fuhrer.

There was one call, however, that left me and the guests in the studio in hysterics. The caller was ranting about immigration – always one of my favourites from the expats out there – and was complaining that young men were moving to ‘places like Birmingham’. He was getting more and more enraged. “They get themselves in the benefits system,” he spluttered. “Are given free council houses,” he went on, turning redder. “And then they bring over their families. “You know,” he lectured me. “Their villages and all their ELK!”

I think he meant ilk. But at that point I was on the studio floor, doubled up in laughter with visions of herds of majestic moose striding along Birmingham’s Bullring. e

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