Glastonbury 2014: View from the sofa

"We're not going to go on about it" reassure Mark Radcliffe and Jo Whiley, leading off the late night live chunk of Glastonbury coverage on BBC Two.

But they do, of course.

And then when they hand over to Lauren Laverne in another part of the field, she can't help but talk about it, too.

And why wouldn't they? This year, clearly, isn't the Glastonbury of Metallica; it's the Glastonbury where the lights went out.

Trouble is, although Lauren had rather a good anecdote - about being chided for asking the bear-slaughterers if they'd bought the heavy metal thunder with them - the stuff that was most interesting about the power outage wasn't touched on.

(Incidentally, it wouldn't be Metallica's heavy metal thunder; Dolly Parton has brought a rainbow with her, and we all know what you have to endure to get one of those working.)

Normally, the BBC's Glastonbury coverage is padded with films of people who've paid silly money for tickets doing really dull things - giving us a taste of the "festival experience". This year, when it'd actually be really interesting to know what it was like to be in a city of tens of thousands of people when the electricity stopped being in the wires and was just in the sky - nothing.

Apart from Mark Radcliffe saying something about communal singing in a tattoo tent, there was no answer to the question 'what was it like on the site?'

Instead, the crisis was reduced to a short snatch of footage of Rudimental walking off the stage.

The big disappointment this year is the red button coverage - clearly all the love has been poured into the website. Three channels of music, more or less lobbed on screen; with whatever happens to be on TV given (it appears) a free pass.

So, at one point, you could have watched Elbow on BBC Three, or something else on BBC Two. If those options didn't delight you, you could press red to get three more bands - except one was Elbow and one was BBC Two.

What's the point of pushing the stream that's already on TV through the red button service?

And doing it so badly - for a good ten minutes, the "BBC Two" Glastonbury feed was so locked in to simulcasting BBC Two that it pushed out a great chunk of Newsnight. (If Jean-Claude Juncker was actually being inducted in the cabaret tent, my apologies to the red button team.)

I suppose it's fair to say that it's more surprising that there's a red button at all - with SmartTVs and Chromecasts and whatnot, it's easier than ever to get the rather good bbc.co.uk experience onto your TV.

(Slight grumble here - the Glastonbury content from iPlayer doesn't show up on the iPhone version of iPlayer, which makes it harder to enjoy on a TV. I know this is a bit like complaining that the handle on the cup the ambrosia comes in is a little fiddly to hold, but... worth mentioning.)

So, what of the bands themselves?

Arcade Fire, it's clear, have edged ever closer to vanishing over the Bono Horizon.

I know, I know...

... how can I possibly think that?

You know when the fireworks (literal fireworks) are at the start, not the end, of the set, that you're watching a band who are overdoing the spectacle.

Men made out of mirrors; the bobbleheads; two-faced skeletons (one of whom, distractingly, had a brand name of a morphsuit maker on his ass); a stage full of around thirty people at one; racoon make-up; pyrotechnics... it's just so fucking tiring to watch, and it's dressing up music that doesn't really need all this extra packing. You've written songs that are packed full of strong, striking images - why are you hiding them in the worst circus ever?

Elsewhere, Blondie were a little ragged around the edges - doing the high bit from Rapture would be difficult under normal circumstances, but Harry just-about nailed it on a stage, early in the day, outdoors. And the cover of (You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party) was a delight - especially watching the ripple of 'oh! this is what this is!' run through the crowd at different speeds.

Sidenote: After last year's fuss about whether jokes about the Rolling Stones being old were okay, it's worth mentioning that Debbie Harry is 69 on Tuesday. But people don't obsess over it because jokes about Blondie being old were never a thing.

Also because she'd kick your butt.

Chvrches were great; and Drenge are still on course to become Mudhoney by the end of next year.

Journeys to the past when the future was the destination

I suppose, to be fair, the C86 movement were never likely to be confused with the Futurists, but even Bobby Gillespie in his most Byrds-drenched, pre-Bourbon incarnation would have raised a surprised eyebrow at the idea that C86 would get a three CD expanded reissue in 2014.

The extra tracks include some interesting stuff, including a supposedly never-previously-released North of Cornwallis track, but it seems to have stretched the defintion of C86.

But wouldn't you rather all this effort was put into making a C2014?

Roll forward a few years, or perhaps just don't roll back as far, and we find ourselves at a week-long return of The Evening Session, a show which has been revived more often than Beau Geste. This time (probably every time) it's to celebrate Britpop.

Oh, Britpop. It's like Jeremy Bentham's corpse - now that all the life has gone, you're just left with a weird artefact that serves little purpose other than to be occasionally kidnapped and paraded up and down the street, missing the vital pulse that interested everyone in the first place.

Lamacq added: For me, this is the week 20 years ago that the musical tectonic plates shifted. On the Tuesday, Oasis played live on Radio 1 for the first time and on the Friday morning we heard the news of Kurt Cobain's death. It was as if one scene had announced it had arrived, as another began to lose its way."

Steve, you're better than that. I don't think a single person, on hearing the news of Kurt's suicide, thought "that's kind of epochal, what with Oasis having been on the wireless a few days back."

Jo is actually more honest:

Jo Whiley said: "I will always jump at the chance to work with Steve. He is my radio 'other half' and we did fight the Britpop wars together after all. It was a great time to be a DJ on UK radio but, as ever, when you're in the eye of the storm, you are blissfully unaware. It's only in hindsight that you appreciate what a privilege it was to live and work through such an exciting time for British music."

Who'd have thought it was the more excitable one of the pair who remembered that a lot of Britpop shibboleths are coloured by red, white and blue tinted hindsight?

Steve and Jo will be trotting the 'half a pint of cider before the show' anecdote for the 1,000th time as part of a big Britpop disinterment across the BBC.

Glastonbury 2011: View from the sofa - U2

Strange scheduling on the BBC, who split U2's set across BBC Two and Four. Presumably the thinking here was that U2 were too big not to get live space on BBC Two, but not so big that Jeremy Paxman was going to make way for them. Or maybe the idea of jumping across channels midway was to offer a set-up for an easy I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - Is BBC Four Further Up The EPG Than SkyLivingIt+1? gag.

I imagine if you like U2 then you would have been happy with the set they played. After all, if you still like U2 in 2011, you're not going to be overly worried about the actual quality, are you?

Kudos, by the way, to @hungoverdrawn for spotting the autocue.

Let's focus instead on the post-set interview, where the band shuffled in to be grilled by Jo Whiley and Zane Lowe.

Jo, naturally, offered some soft questions delivered in a gentle fashion; Zane also had soft questions, but shouted them into Bono's face. It wasn't so much good cop, bad cop as good cop, good cop (but one with personal space issues).

You wouldn't have expected a roasting, but it seemed slightly odd that neither Jo nor Zane had any curiosity about the protests about U2's tax arrangements that had been focused on their Glastonbury appearance. Instead, Jo trilled about how she loved the way the rain had fallen on Bono's glasses.

Larry Mullen did appear for a long while to have been stuffed; when, eventually, he was brought into the conversation he was at least refreshing. While Bono had bored on about how spiritual everything was, and how brave they'd all been, and that the crowd had made flags specifically for U2, Mullen just grumped. He complained about how wet it all was, and how far away the audience had been from the stage. Neither Zane or Jo made much effort to engage him after that, but I warmed a little bit more to Larry last night.

He'd apparently missed the briefing that U2 playing the festival was to be treated as something akin to Larry Olivier doing a walk-on in Coronation Street, and just grumbled a bit about it. It was like suddenly finding a piece of honest gristle in a circle-jerk soup.

[Part of Glastonbury 2011 full coverage]

Whiley shoves out Radcliffe & Maconie

Radio 2 and 6Music are having a reshuffle, the headline of which has been Jo Whiley taking over the Radcliffe & Maconie slot on Radio 2 in the evenings.

But it's not entirely bad news: The increasingly detached Nemone programme in the 6Music schedules is being junked, and Mark and Stuart are going to set up home in the 1 to 4 slot. That's a whole lot more of them on the air, and a pretty good line-up for daytimes on 6 now - Laverne-Radcliffe&Maconie-Lamacq-Riley-Coe. If they could fix breakfast, that would be an all time great schedule.

Nemone's moving to a weekend breakfast show or something.

Jo Whiley is finally giving up on Radio 1 - after seventeen years - to concentrate on her new Radio 2 show. She's thrilled:

"As well as supporting my love of music, Radio 1 have also supported and accommodated me bringing three further children into the world, something, as a woman, I will always be grateful for.

"Last year Radio 2, the BBC's other great music station, asked me to present their In Concert programme on Thursday evenings, hosting live shows by the likes of Paolo Nutini, Gary Barlow and the Manic Street Preachers which has proved to be much fun. "

The words 'Paolo Nutini' and 'fun' don't often appear in the same sentence. And I'm sure 6Music and Radio 3 will be delighted to hear that Radio 2 is "the BBC's other great music station", even as they try to figure out what that means they are.

The shuffling about leaves Weekend afternoons empty on Radio 1; a slot into which the wonderful Huw Stephens is going to step.

The Evening Session: It's back, back, back

Well, it's back for one night. Jo Whiley and Steve Lamacq are reuniting for a one-off revival of The Evening Session. On 6Music rather than Radio One, but in the old time slot.

If this is a success, 6Music promises that there are no plans at all to ask Goodier to do a similar exercise. (Although, in all seriousness, it'd be nice to have a week with Kid Jensen, Janice Long, Simon Mayo and Richard Skinner getting to revive Night-Time Radio One.)

The revived Evening Session must, by law, contain some or all of the following:

- Jo Whiley discovering an indie band likes Massive Attack and responding 'I'm really amazed at a band like you liking something like that'
- Pretending Oasis are still somehow important
- A track by The Wonderstuff
- Steve Lamacq smelling of a half of cider
- Tour dates for Five Thirty, including visits to Roadmenders, The Rathole and TJs.
- The last ten minutes being annexed for some well-meaning but ultimately ineffective factucation feature
- A trail for a Chris Evans breakfast show that encourages you to sleep in until ten
- The ghost of Simon Bates
- That song that goes "going down, down, down, DOWN like a Divebomb"
- Sugar in session

Whiley, Bowman sidelined in favour of Kit Curran & Smurfette

The sound of the last tide of Matthew Bannister's Radio One washing away, then, as Jo Whiley and Edith Bowman are eased to one side in a new Radio One line-up:

The Radio 1 controller, Andy Parfitt, said: "BBC Radio 1 must continue to change to connect with a new generation of audiences and this is a significant move, promoting three of our up and coming broadcasters into the heart of the schedule."

Aha, so it's about moving out the older presenters for some new, fresh names, is it?

Not quite, as they're bringing in Greg James and Fearne Cotton to daily slots.

Fearne Cotton is 28, so only a little younger than Bowman; Bowman is 34 and actually younger than Chris Moyles.

To be fair, Whiley had started to turn into a fixture of the Simon Bates sort in mid-mornings, and probably is at the point of needing to move on. It's disappointing, though, that Radio One have chosen to abandon any pretence of being interested in music during the daytime in favour of a woman who feels much more Variety Club Showbusiness Awards than Camden Crawl.

Greg James is probably more surprised than anyone at this promotion, given that he actually has the words "sitting in for" on his driving licence. He's one of those people who crop up in radio a lot, with two first names and an ability to fill the unforgiving minute with just enough chat to take us up to the news, weather and travel. Adrian John. Paul Jordan. One of those.

It all makes for the most crushingly lightweight daytime Radio One schedule since Mike Smith and Gary Davies were alive.

Glastonbury 2009: View from the sofa - BBC 2

Ah, the senior service on BBC 2 gets a full complement of presenters - Radcliffe and Laverne sharing main duties, but throwing to Zane Lowe down in front of The Ting Tings, and Jo Whiley off in the studio.

Jo presents an acoustic performance from Paolo Nutini as if it's some sort of treat, although she does use the phrase "it's the same thing, year after year" so perhaps she was trying to be knowing.

They're currently showing a short film explaining who Neil Young is, rather than showing Neil Young playing live. Is there anyone alive who doesn't know who Young is, who is going to go "oh, if this chap David Crosby says he's worth hearing, maybe I will listen to him?"

Oh. Having spent five minutes of their time talking about Neil Young, Radcliffe is now promising they'll show him "in the next show". After - I kid you not - a Newsnight Michael Jackson special.

Move on, Moyles

Ofcom has just published a page with advice on how to complain about broadcasting. They've illustrated it with a photo of Chris Moyles.

The regulator was also busy today posting a bumper edition of its complaints bulletin, which - once past objecting to a massive pile of sponsorship break bumpers - gets down to considering Moyles' birthday song for Will Young:

He then imitated Will Young by singing alternative versions of two of the singer’s well known singles: ‘Evergreen’ and ‘Leave Right Now’. During the imitation the presenter adopted an effeminate and high pitched voice.

When singing his alternative version of ‘Evergreen’, Chris Moyles broadcast the lyrics: “It’s my birthday, gonna wear my new dress tonight. And I smell nice. I’ve had a shower and I’ve shaved my legs. Going out later, might go to Nob-oooh for dinner.”

During the alternative version of ‘Leave Right Now’, Chris Moyles broadcast the lyrics: “Oooh Will Young here, mmmmh. I’m here, it’s Will’s birthday and as the years go by I get more very gay. When you saw me years ago you didn’t know, but now I’m the gayest fella you probably know. mmm I like to wear a silly hat, I get camper by the hour, oh would you look at the muck in here. I’m Will Young and I’m gay.”

The BBC - with a straight face - tried to insist that this wasn't a joke at the expense of Young's sexuality.

The Corporation did allow that, you know, maybe the comments were "unacceptable". Although this seems a bit confusing: if the 'jokes' weren't about his sexuality, what does the BBC think was unacceptable about them?

Ofcom decided this humour was not just unacceptable, but offensive as well; it pointed out this isn't the first time that it's upheld complaints about Chris Moyles.

It's sparked a piece by John Plunkett in MediaGuardian which first lambasts Moyles' humour, before changing tack and suggests that just maybe it's time for Moyles and some of his chums to step down from Radio One regardless of their record:

Moyles, 35, has presented the breakfast show since January 2004 and remains hugely popular with listeners. Jo Whiley, 43, joined Radio 1 in 1993 and has presented the lunchtime show since 1997. And don't even get me started on Westwood. Okay then, he's 51.

There are good DJs. And there are old DJs. And there are good, old DJs. But should they be on Radio 1?

Plunkett suggests its time for a Bannister-style Year Zero. And you'd think he might have a point, were he not suggesting this:

"Radio 1 chiefs are believed to be keen on rising star Reggie Yates," said the Sun. And if he wasn't co-hosting the chart show with Fearne Cotton, 25-year-old Yates might be able to get a word in edgeways.

A younger voice is already on its way, with weekend breakfast host Nick Grimshaw about to fill the weekday evening slot being vacated by Colin Murray - aged 32, if you must know - who is off to BBC Radio 5 Live.

Nick Grimshaw and Reggie Yates? Bloody hell, you'd be better off bringing back Adrian Juste and Steve Wright, wouldn't you?

Jo lie-ly: slight return

More news of low-level fibbing from the Jo Whiley show: in addition to the previously revealed pre-recorded competition, today the BBC have announced she did it again:

In a programme which was pre-recorded to permit essential engineering work in Radio 1's studios, listeners were invited to enter a competition that had already been recorded with an on-air participant who was a listener who had expressed an interest in entering the competition the previous day. Although this person was a genuine member of the audience, the name of a second participant, mentioned on air, was invented, and listeners had been invited to telephone and text when in reality there was no opportunity to participate.

This breach occurred three weeks after the previously reported breach on this programme.

The problem here is that it's a small lie, but a pointless one - and one which we're not entirely sure is explained away by "engineering work", come to that. They couldn't find a studio which wasn't being worked on? A spare one at Radio 2, for example?

And since the engineering work must have been pre-booked (otherwise they wouldn't have known to record the competition in advance) why did they book it in for during the day when a DJ was supposed to be doing live competitions from the studio?

Russell Brand is also fingered for having a BBC staffer call in to a pre-record.

Again: it's frustrating because it's hard to see what would have been lost had these programmes just fessed up that they were on tape, rather than going to elaborate lengths to try and pretend they were live.

Gordon in the morning: Prize day

Gordon Smart has offered his review of the year in the form of an awards ceremony, giving him a chance to fawn once again over the Spice Girls and present Noel Gallagher with the odd "Lord of Bizarre" prize. Yes, the Spice Girls and Oasis. Gordon Smart's heart is stuck in 1997.

There's a marvelous picture of Gordon, Noel and Serge from Kasabian which looks less like a journalist on the largest-selling newspaper in the country presenting an award, more like "can my mate take a picture on the cameraphone cause otherwise Victoria will never believe I've met you, mate?"

Serge has won a prize for drinking a lot, which at least brings Gordon more up to date - about 2005, we reckon.

Sensibly, for most of the other 'awards' shots they've just unconvincingly photoshopped in a prize on top of the picture, although Gordon and his scarf do go to present the Lady Of Bizarre gong to, erm, Jo Whiley for some reason. Gordon explains the strange choice:

She has made her Live Lounge show appointment listening - something you rarely hear about radio.

What about In Our Time? Or Brain Surgery? Or the Freak Zone? Or...

When you look at the acts on the show albums released this year you realise how highly artists rate it.

Sorry, Gordon?

When you look at the acts on the show albums released this year you realise how highly artists rate it.

Okay, we know what he was trying to say, but...

Even more oddly, despite the "rare" appointment-listening of Whiley's show, Smart makes Scott Mills DJ of the year.

Jo lie-ly

The ongoing search for slips and lies and omissions and fibs at the BBC has uncovered another instance of dubious behaviour: Jo Whiley showering a member of public with prizes while being elsewhere:

The BBC said the DJ, who hosts the late morning show, was unaware that the caller was not a member of the public.

The BBC's governing body, the BBC Trust, said it was "satisfied" managers were taking appropriate action.

On Wednesday, Whiley will apologise on air for the latest editorial slip-up, which happened during a pre-recorded section of her show on 20 April last year.

She usually presents her daily three hour show live, but on this occasion taped part of it so she could be at the opening of the refurbished Broadcasting House in London with the Queen.

We're a little puzzled as to how Whiley could have been "unaware" that the caller wasn't a member of the public - who did she think was calling in to a show that wasn't going out live?

And also: isn't it worse that you'd pretend to be live while heading off for a bit of nosebag and some warm white wine at an event? If you do think that being at a jolly is more important than your audience, at least have the decency to admit what you're doing. The non-existent prize is probably less irritating than lying to everyone when really, there's no reason to.

Radio One More Time: We can't play this

Much of what we think we know about what Radio One would, or wouldn't play, is reflected through myths and urban legends. The BBC, of course, maintains that it's not in the business of banning records, but merely suggests producers think more carefully about whether they should play them or not.

The pinnacle of not-exactly-banned records, of course, is land inhabited by Frankie Goes To Hollywood. After several weeks of playing Relax quite happily, one morning Mike Read happened to hear the lyrics. Spluttering tea from his TeaHee mug, he proclaimed it "overtly obscene" and pledged to ban it forthwith. It's never been clear why, if the song was so overt in its obscenity, he'd managed to spin it quite a few times before noticing; but the rest of the BBC duly fell into line, helping Frankie slide up the long shaft of the Top 40, and leaving Top of the Pops feeling unable to play the number one single.

We say the rest of the BBC; as Number One gleefully pointed out, not only was the then-newcomer Janice Long still playing Relax on her Saturday night show, but she was choosing the Sex Mix.

It's not always sex, of course: advertising can also see music banished from the network. Earlier this year, of course, there was that nasty attempt to try and pass off a slogan for some sort of hair product as a single; the manufactured band, Shocka, were rumbled and kicked off the airwaves. Oddly, though, Robin Beck's Diet Coke ad was able to find airtime despite being little more than an extended commercial soundtrack. First Love, true, didn't mention Coke; but then Style Attract Play didn't mention its hair product in the lyrics. It gets rather confusing.

Back when Doctor Hook released The Cover Of Rolling Stone, BBC executives nixed the very idea of playing the track - advertising Rolling Stone? The very idea. A group of pluggers, though, realised that Radio One in those days had no trouble pushing the Radio Times (you'll recall the "it's out today... the new Radio Times" jingle being a daytime staple back before competition in the listings markets meant they could no longer get away with it). So a recording session was hastily arranged, with the pluggers bellowing "Radio Times" every time "Rolling Stone" up in the lyrics.

The first Iraq war also shook some tracks off the airwaves - Carter's Bloodsports For All was deemed unsuitable for broadcast - although the chances of any daytime show making space for a song about bullying in the forces would surely have been slight, even during peace time. Massive Attack managed to keep on the radio, though, by the simple expedient of dropping the word "Attack" from their name for duration of hostilities. Kind of like when they took the Liver Birds down during World War Two, it's unlikely it fooled anyone but the sense of fake sacrifice was considered important.

Ten years ago, Diana Spencer's failure to use a seatbelt led to a sludge of instrumental, empty music pouring out of Radio One. Funnily enough, the only letter I ever had read out on Feedback was during the early 90s, when I asked if it was true that the death of a royal (we were all betting on the Queen Mother going first, of course) would lead to a period of funereal music on all networks. A BBC executive denied that was the plan; September 1997 proved that to be a half-truth - it might not have quite been funereal, but we did come close to death by ambience.

One small break in this po-faced parade, though, was Jo Whiley, who slipped There Is A Light That Never Goes Out onto her show. Whether we'd have got more apt-but-awkward songs during the week, we never found out, as Jo went off sick shortly afterwards.

Our favourite story about Radio One's tolerance for songs also features The Smiths. At the time of Shoplifters Of The World Unite, John Walters used his diary slot to tell Janice about the meeting convened to decide if the track was acceptable for daytime play. In the end, the pro-Morrissey vote carried the day, but only after convincing stragglers the repeated mantra of "hand it over, hand it over" meant the song was to be understood as an injunction to shoplifters to give back their ill-gotten gains.

[Part of Radio One More Time]

Amy was robbed, but Jo gets paid

Fascinating, just a few days after Jo Whiley was complaining about how "Amy Winehouse was robbed" at the Mercurys, to see her doing a voiceover on the Klaxons album adverts showing to turn a few quid out of the Mercury victory. We're glad that Jo was able to cope with her burning sense of injustice long enough to sign off on this one.

Jo Whiley: Amy was robbed

Jo Whiley has abandoned the strict impartiality required of her as presenter of the BBC coverage of the Mercury Prize - which is fair enough, as she'd earlier abandoned the required interviewing technique, too - and insisted that Amy Winehouse should have won the Mercury.

Why?

Erm, because Jo liked the album:

"Everyone was surprised. Amy was the favourite."

Er... Amy was the second favourite, Jo - remember that man from the bookmakers telling you on television that Bat For Lashes was the favourite?

"The Klaxons are lovely boys but Amy should have won.

"Back To Black is definitely my album of the past year - it's spellbinding. Her performance at the Mercury show was amazing. But it's not about how she performed, it's about the album."

We've not had a chance to look at the rules, but we're fairly sure that the prize is meant for the album decided by the judges to be the best of the year, rather than being an award for Jo Whiley's favourite.

We have a sneaking feeling that what probably happened in the judging stage was votes for Amy and votes for Bats For Lashes were cancelling each other out - the 'ooky female vocal' split - which let the Klaxons through. But we're getting tired at this insistence that, somehow, Winehouse had a moral right to the prize. Clearly, when the judges voted they didn't believe she did. When people bet on the likely winner, they didn't feel she had, either.

Jo why, oh, Whiley

Amongst things we can safely say the world could do well without is a "more credible" version of the X-Factor. Especially one with Jo Whiley in the "Sharon Osbourne role":

"It's going out in the lead up to Christmas. I'm the Sharon Osbourne of the panel - I was horrible to some people and when I woke up in the morning, I felt sick and unclean."

When Jo says "in the lead-up to Christmas", she means the miserable time of year when everything gets grey and dark.

We're at a loss to how you can have a "credible" talent show; it's like an ethical war, isn't it?

Mercury Music Prize: Liveblog

9pm
BBC Four's continuity promises us that "anything could happen" at the "most controversial music prize in the world". Controversial? Sure, it's not like there's many actually controversial music awards - nobody's ever gone to war over the Junos, for example, but The Source Awards surely are more fractious?

Jo Whiley and Jools Holland are presenting, as bloody ever - can't they find someone, anyone different for this? Dizzee Rascal's always there for no reason, they could get him to do it, surely? Make the trip worth his while.

The View are the first live band - "truly fantastic", says Jo. After their song, Jools has to announce them twice before the audience realises they're supposed to applaud.

9.10
Maps. It's hard to make mainly electronic music seem exciting in a live context, and great though Maps are, it would probably be wearing to sit through much of this at a gig. BBC Four try to perk things up by using an effect to make it look like you're actually watching him on a television. It doesn't help; nor does the low-budget version of the digital dotstream Nine Inch Nails had at Reading, to be honest.

BBC News Online have blown the one surprise of the evening - Amy Winehouse does turn up. Oh, so it's not live, and so, erm, the claim that "anything" could happen is a bit of a fib. If anything surprising, like bombs or evisceration had happened, they could have edited it out.

9.15
Jamie T does Salvador. He looks astonishingly like a young Stuart Adamson this evening; and his vocals are completely swamped in the mix, which means that anyone taking this chance to judge Jools Holland's praise for his wit and wisdom would be out of luck. The audience look a bit bored, but then every act at the Mercury is greeted with something akin to half-stoned indifference.

9.20
Picking up his nomination prize, Jamie T mutters some thank yous.

Ooh! New Young Pony Club!

Tahita's gone for a Davina-esque red dress; Lou has an ill-advised neck decoration that reminds me of Mrs. Macey, the school secretary who always seemed to be wearing a neck brace. Latterly, I've come to suspect she might have had a fetish rather than a neck problem.

The sound is pretty poor for them, which is a pity, but at least they had the wisdom to not do the one from the telephone commercial.

9.25
They're on the 'second stage' so they don't get to shake Jools' hand when they get their prize.

Radio 3's Charles Hazlewood (who's helping judge) and Holby City's Adrian Edmondson are now talking to Jo Whiley.

Hazlewood is telling us what a "massive job" listening to all the records "in theory" was. He looks a bit like Keith Allen tonight - he's always smarter when he's doing stuff about Tchaikovsky. He reckons the Mercury is "more esoteric" than The Brits, which is true, in the same way that having your arm cut off is less painful than having a red-hot poker put in your eye.

9.30
Adrian said New Young Pony Club were "more like a normal band" this evening than a group of children "on vodka".

"Songs are very hard to write" observes Adrian. Luckily, before he can elaborate, The Young Knives are taking the stage with their "misfit anthems" (as Jools explains.)

It's interesting that wearing some cheap-looking suits is enough to constitute a gimmick these days.

More than ever, tonight, The Young Knives prove to be the British Weezer.

9.35
Jools muffs reading out the name of Bat For Lashes' album. They're "wonderful and incredible", but he was clearly reading that.

She's already got her nomination award sat on her keyboard - I wonder if you get to choose if you'll be touching Jools Holland or not?

Being mainly vocal is a big plus, with the dreadful sound mixing not working against BFL.

I wonder if those are real peacock feathers.

9.40
Jools details The Arctic Monkeys' current tour schedule, leading into a bit of film of them holding a prize in Tokyo. They've abandoned doing amusing or interesting acceptance videos, then.

By not being in the room, they've left the choice of track representing them to a BBC Producer. Which is why the last thing the judges will hear from them prior to voting is, erm, Teddy Picker, from Glastonbury, a track whose filler-status was so obvious it's being offered alongside baked beans and cheese in the Spud-U-Like chain.

9.45
Fionn Regan has been called "a modern day Irish troubadour" says Jools. Why not just spit at him, Jools?

It was a character on A Bit of Fry and Laurie who first observed how distressing it is to have the harmonica played badly at oneself. To be fair, judging by how much Fionn is blinking, he's very, very nervous. Perhaps he realised that it's not a good idea to throw hungry critics a line like "be good or be gone" to play with.

He's got FR in blue sticky tape on his guitar, presumably because he's afraid that it might get muddled up with one of Amy Winehouse's guitars backstage. He might also have his name stitched into his underpants. The audience does cheer him, though, slightly lukewarmly. But it's a cheer, nevertheless.

Is Spud-U-Like still going?

Jo is now on the balcony getting the names of The Young Knives wrong. They don't seem to be bothered, though, giving off the air of men who;ve just completed a successful audit.

Natasha is also up there with them: she says the Mercurys are like a giant hamster wheel.

9.50
Apparently, there are still about two dozen Spud-U-Likes around the country, and a couple in Dublin. "There are only 25 calories per ounce in a spudulike potato" they tell us.

Dizzee Rascal is "a unique voice" says Jools - presumably meaning unique in the sense of the "only British black artist they can think of at shortlisting time". His DJ is doing something to the turntable with his mouth, which may or may not be a tribute to Daniel Day-Lewis in My Left Foot. Dizzee loves it, apparently, when he sees a pretty girl.

9.55
Spud-U-Like's website also boasts that "spudulike potatoes have value as a supplementary source of good quality protein", which is one of the few claims that Dizzee Rascal doesn't make during his track. Maybe in next year's Mercury nominated album, eh?

Amy Winehouse - "we're thrilled that Amy's here" says Jools, as in "surprised". She's wearing a beach towel, so presumably rushed here straight from that Caribbean Drug Getaway. It sounds like she knows she's got to do a shut-'em-up-performance, but doesn't quite make it.

Still, the record industry audience applaud like Jesus has just brought a round for them all. They'll be turning to each other and saying "and they say we don't support our artists..."

10.00
Basquiat Strings. My wife takes one look at the hair and calls a bathroom break.

Since bands like this never win the prize, but are there purely to allow the organisers to pretend they're eclectic, shouldn't they get an extra award alongside the standard nomination trophy? Or at least their cab fare paid. Or something.

Actually, it's like Prince Harry with Charlie Chuck on drums.

10.05
The Klaxons. "Exhilarating" pronounces Jools, sounding more relieved we've finally made it through the shortlist acts. Blimey, an act that sounds halfway decent. Could the mixing desk have advance intelligence of the judge's decision and are attempting to give the winners a secret hand by making them sound better than their peers this evening? Or are they just so relieved that Winehouse didn't vomit into the monitors they're able to concentrate on the affair at hand?

10.10
Briefly, Jools Holland looks like a man who is going to have to hold up a copy of today's paper and read out a list of his captor's demands.

Jo has now been joined by Adrain Edmondson and "friend of Bono" Neil McCormick from the Telegraph (he hasn't yet mentioned if people he doesn't know are still trying to kill him.)

McCormick tells us that Jamie T is "so now" but burbles on instead about how great Winehouse is. He then says before the Mercurys "we hadn't heard about Bat For Lashes before", which might be the case, we guess, if you spend most of your time hanging out with Bono.

Whiley cues up the obligatory package of previous winners, the only time the name "Roni Size" is ever heard on television all year.

10.15
Adrian Edmondson is still there. Now, I loved his adverts for Nat West as much as anyone's sell-out commercial work, but in a room supposedly full of the cream of the UK music industry, can't they find anyone else to share an opinion? Surely Conor McNicholas will be there with his hair washed and a clean shirt?

McCormick is bloody obsessed with Jamie T.

There's a comedy posh bookmaker doing a show of the odds now. He offers a "maybe the Klaxons" but Bat For Lashes leading the betting.

10.20
Jools is going to announce the winner: "only one can be the overall winner tonight" he helpfully reminds us. In case we've not quite got the idea of how a prize for best album might work.

Jools has two envelopes - one with a cheque in, one with the name of the winner in. Nationwide pay the winner by cheque?

Blake Idiot is in the audience.

It's The Klaxons. They are, it's fair to say, more surprised than they are drunk. And they're very drunk indeed. The microphones are unable cope, so they trash the microphones.

Lauren Laverne has now popped up on the balcony. Neil is slightly shocked - "they were always on the outside of who I thought would win" he says, forgetting that, erm, he hadn't mentioned them as possible winners in his earlier interview.

Oh, Lauren's been a judge again. The Klaxons have run onto the balcony - be careful, lads, she's pregnant. Jools has run after them with the cheque - which, if Nationwide used chip and pin technology to make the transfer, could have been avoided.

The Klaxons are being very happy and pleased, as if it's not quite sunk in that this, for them, is going to be the high water mark.

Glastonbury on TV

Cherry Ghost have just finished doing an exclusive acoustic track on BBC2. Is this the only time of the year indie acts stand a chance of getting a run-out on prime-time terrestrial televsion now? Unless the Queen invites Soho Dolls to perform on her Christmas Message?

Lauren Laverne and Jo Whiley are co-ordinating things from a slightly overdone studio ("with a white floor"); Jo is doing her best to stop Lauren getting a word in edgeways.

Mark Radcliffe is, for reasons that appear to do with vindictiveness towards the environment, hovering above the site in a helicopter. This lets us see that the festival site is large, and covered in tents - something you couldn't have told from clambering to the top of a hill, of course. Or standing on tiptoe.

Colin Murray has been sent off to stand next to some jugglers; it's hard to say who is the more insulted. He introduces the sort of overlong feature on Arabella Churchill, who organises the theatre events, which you would have only ever seen on Omnibus in the past. It's interesting, but it's like having a pep talk from your parents when you want to rush off and play.

On returning to the studio, Lauren has sent Jo off somewhere, so that she can throw to Phil Jupitus. Phil informs us we've just missed the New Pornographers, and offers us the Hold Steady instead, as if that's going to make up for it.

Something interesting happens on The Jo Whiley Show

It's not often you can say that these days, unless you find the by-now-inevitable "unlikely" cover version surprising ("ha! You are an indie rock band and yet you have played a song by a chart pop act. Are my expectations now confounded...") but yesterday, while reading a text from Kent out, Jo slipped and said "East Cunt Cup."

Okay, there should perhaps be an "almost" in the heading on this post.

The Sun, though, thinks a fairly obvious slip of the tongue is a major news story:

Listener Tony Griffiths, 23, from Folkestone, Kent, said: “At first I couldn’t believe my ears.”

There's absolutely no explanation of who Griffiths is, or even any indication of what happened when he did believe his ears - was he then shocked, horrified, amazed, delighted? Or maybe even a little bit turned on ("talk dirty to me Jo, before playing an exclusive first spin of a new Corinne Bailey Rae track")?

We're not even sure what he means by "at first" - as if Jo had embarked on a foul-mouthed rant that went on for several minutes, and it took a while for him to realise she really was doing it. Because otherwise he must mean "at first I couldn't believe my ears and then she put a record on." Which is even more lame.