Ned Sherrin
Ned Sherrin
So Ned Sherrin has died from throat cancer - the affliction that blighted my own family’s summer. Well RIP Mr Sherrin and thankyou. Quite apart from his great achievements in bringing new entertainment to the new ages - which will be written up fulsomely, and documentarized over the coming weeks, I have a personal tribute to add.
Black Box Recorder were lucky enough to be invited to appear on Loose Ends in 2003, and the pleasure of that experience has stayed with us ever since.
Loose Ends was recorded on a Saturday morning – slightly painful for the more nocturnal amongst us – in a subterranean lair in the BBC tunnel system which links Portland Place, Great Portland Street and most other streets in the area. The real room 101 is here…I don’t remember if lifts were involved, but we hunted for it down unlit corridors, un-patrolled by the corporation’s skeleton weekend security - It seemed more like a storeroom than the HQ of the Thought Police.
Black Box Recorder were there to sing a couple of songs and do a little interview – reaching out to the Roberts radios of little England - a demographic nicely indicative of our less than commercial pop status. Our fellow guests were the poet Murray Lachlan Young, some actors performing a musical as members of the Rat Pack, and Nick Berry of vast television fame – and the only performer on the show to actually have a number one hit ( yet ) – The Theme to Eastenders.
Ned Sherrin really did treat the performers as if they were personally invited guests to his home. There was no hint of fakery, off-mic detachment, or getting the tossers off as soon as possible, which most interviewers struggle to conceal. The studio was set up like a classroom – with government-issue tables and chairs, and Schoolmaster Sherrin moving between them. It was recorded in real-time more or less, unless somebody really fluffed their lines. By mid-day, it was done, just requiring a bit of sound balancing by the studio boffins before broadcast that evening.
It was apparently traditional at Loose Ends for all the guests, once the show had been successfully recorded, to troop round to The George on Great Portland Street for refreshments. Mr Sherrin’s table was laid out – as it must have been every Saturday for years, with an assortment of sandwiches, crisps and nuts – from his own coffers I believe, and several rounds from the bar were purchased. What was particularly nice, is that he continued the conversations from the interviews as though they had just been friendly chats, drew everybody in until a table full of disparate voices and competing egos was just a good lunchtime pub chinwag, and was affability itself when asked a question.
What prompted me to write this is that the bookmark I use in all reading matter is a postcard of thanks he sent Black Box Recorder for appearing on his show. It’s handwritten from his home address, it specifically and jokingly refers to things we talked about, and features a lovely illustration of him tipping his hat.
On a dull, hungover Saturday morning in the bowels of the earth, a funny, kind man with impeccable manners is something to be treasured.