Tuning in…
Tuning in…
Desert Island Discs
Presented by Roy Plomley
Cambridge graduate, ex-RAF pilot, Sussex farmer, and radio star of 'Take It From Here'.
Eight records
not verbatim quote given but described as "a cracking good band, playing a bit of the Three Bears Suite by Eric Coates" (paraphrased description by guest, not a verbatim quote)
describes it as "a chap called George Swift, playing a tune called El Freed. Terrific virtuoso stuff, this."
describes it as "one of those ridiculous bebop nursery rhymes that dear old Ray Ellington does. They amuse me enormously."
described as "a song by the Keynotes. I'm rather partial to Policeman's Holiday."
Sid Phillips and his Pink Hussars
described as "Sid Phillips and his pink hussars playing soothing music. What tune do you want? Stumbling or thereabouts."
Horn Concerto No. 1 in E-flat major, Op. 11 (extract)
described as "the most brilliant horn player we have in England of course is Dennis Brain and I've chosen a record of his part of Richard Strauss's horn concerto. It's a beautiful if somewhat melancholy sound."
described as "this record of his golfing sketch with Jerry Desmond"
Storm from Peter GrimesFavourite
described as "a good noisy one this time, the storm music from Peter Grimes. I think it's wonderful stuff."
The keepsakes
The book
Not recorded.
In conversation
Presenter asks
How and when did you first get this enthusiasm for brass [music]?
It started when I was at school. On Monday evenings, we used to have [O]TC parades, you know, what we used to call officers' training corps. It came to my notice that while all the other cadets were marching about in the hot sun, there was a class of person known as a bandsman who sat in the cricket pavilion and blew melancholy notes on a bugle.
Presenter asks
Was that your one tune with the OTC band as far as your musical education went?
Oh, googish, you know. I also played the trumpet in the school orchestra. And talking about the trumpet leads neatly into my next record, which is a chap called George Swift, playing a tune called El Freed.
Presenter asks
What sort of castaway do you think you'd be? How would you face up to life on a desert island? First of all, can you cook?
I can boil an egg. ... No need for the sun. All I've got to do is to play a record, and of course, one ten-inch record plays near enough three minutes. ... I'm not a bad shot if I had a gun. ... I'm fairly good at trapping and stalking.
The recording
Timestamps play the recording from that turn
Jimmy Edwards
Hello, I'm Kirsty Young, and this is a podcast from the Desert Island Disc's archive. For rights' reasons we've had to shorten the music. The programme was originally broadcast in nineteen fifty one.
Presenter
The B D C presents Desert Island Discs.
Presenter
In this program, a well-known person is asked the question, if you were to be cast away alone on a desert island, which eight gramophone records would you choose to have with you?
Presenter
Assuming of course that you also had a gramophone and an inexhaustible supply of meat.
Presenter
The programme's introduced by Roy Plum.
Presenter
How do you do, ladies and gentlemen?
Presenter
On our desert island on this occasion is a large man with a flourishing moustache.
Presenter
He's a Cambridge graduate, an ex-RAF pilot, a Sussex farmer and rider to hounds, president of the Barnes Brass Band, and you may have heard him on Take It From Here. That's a radio show. Professor Jimmy Edwards. Thank you, Plumley. You are, I believe, asking me to suppose that I've been cast away on a desert island. That's exactly it, and all you've got with you is a gramophone. I can't imagine anything more ghastly. Must I have a gramophone? Oh, but Edwards, I can't believe you're not fond of music. I mean, you, one of the most eminent musicologists in the racket. Well, I would hardly believe it. You've given so many instructive and enjoyable musical lectures on the end. Well, yes, I know, but I mean always as a creative musician, blowing my own examples.
Jimmy Edwards
People like
Jimmy Edwards
We have
Speaker 3
Yeah.
Jimmy Edwards
Yeah.
Presenter
Now if I could take my euphonium onto the island I could give myself endless enjoyment and keep myself fit. It's no good arguing Edwards. You have a gramophone and that's all and it's hand-wound. And eight records please? Eight, I will oblige. Thank you. Now my choice of records is going to fall into two categories. Records of brass instruments and other records to remind me of certain incidents, aspects, and or phases of my meteoric career. Vote for Edwards. Carry on. Well now, then, the first record is a brass band piece. Yeah? Jimmy, how and when did you first get this enthusiasm for brass? Oh, well, now that's a question. It started when I was at school. On Monday evenings, we used to have Army cadet parades, you know, what we used to call officers' training corps. You were at the same school, you remember them. I do indeed. It came to my notice that while all the other cadets were marching about in the hot sun, there was a class of person known as a bandsman who sat in the cricket pavilion and blew melancholy notes on a bugle. And that was your first interest in music? Yes, a sedentary interest. Although, of course, about twice a turn we were expected to march in front of all the others and play our one tune. Oh, that tune, yes, I remember it. That's not the one we're going to have now, is it, please? Well, it isn't, actually, because that was just a bugle tune. What we're going to have is a proper band and experts, too, the Foden Motorworks Band, a cracking good band, playing a bit of the Three Bears Suite by Eric Coates.
Presenter
That certainly sounded different to Arbet.
Presenter
Was your one tune with the OTC band as far as your musical education went? Oh, googish, you know. I also played the trumpet in the school orchestra. And talking about the trumpet leads neatly into my next record, which is a chap called George Swift, playing a tune called El Freed. Terrific virtuoso stuff, this. He's got wonderful control, and he launches himself out into tremendous arpeggios. Edwards, arpeggios, do you think arpeggios? I've been to school since you have, you know, we won't fall out over an arpeggio.
Jimmy Edwards
Yeah.
Presenter
What is the re yeah. This record does a double job because apart from being a joy to listen to, it'll also remind me of some very gay times we were having when I first heard it, when the RAF sent me to Canada on a flying course. I'm only just recovering from that transatlantic hospitality. Well, here's the record, El Free.
Presenter
Okay.
Presenter
That wasn't exactly the same record that you had in Canada during the war, Jimmy, because George Swift has recorded Elfriede twice, and that's a comparatively recent version of it that he's recorded with Eric Robinson's orchestra. Now, Jimmy, what sort of castaway do you think you'd be? How would you face up to life on a desert island? First of all, can you cook? I can boil an egg. Well, now, don't make vainglorious statements, Edwards. You can boil an egg on the mainland, yes, with an alarm clock for timing of three minutes, but could you accurately estimate three minutes by the sun? No need for the sun. All I've got to do is to play a record, and of course, one ten-inch record plays near enough three minutes. Well, that's very ingenious. Well, that's me all over. Well, it seems to me you have the makings of a very promising castaway. Any other assets? Assets. Well.
Presenter
I'm not a bad shot if I had a gun. Which you wouldn't. Well, well, and then I'm fairly good at trapping and stalking. Fine.
Presenter
Well, I don't think we need bother to send a rescue ship for you. You're quite all right.
Presenter
Well, I think you better send that ship as quick as you can actually qu uh and when it does arrive they'll find me looking and acting like that chap in Treasure Island, Ben Gunn, wasn't it? Oh that whiskery old chap. You look a bit like him already. Uh and in a senile nostalgic sort of way I should probably still be doing my music hall act to an audience of monkeys. Well it's your disc jockey active disc to the monkeys that we're interested in. Right, well now the next record I choose is one of those ridiculous bebop nursery rhymes that dear old Ray Ellington does. They amuse me enormously. He got a lovely sense of humour, that man. I think my favourite is Little Bop
Speaker 3
The music was snappy, the lambs were so happy. They never heard beep up before. When Bo Peep used to sing, it was nothing like swing things like trees, or because such a boar. So little Bo Peep sings Bob to her sheep. She's certain they'll never more roam. She now knows that swing is the only real thing to keep those lambs safe at home. Any hour of the day, you can see them at play. Bo Peep and her little hep sheep.
Speaker 3
They sing themselves horse, never think of mint sauce, and of course they call a buff peep
Presenter
Now let's have something for sentimental reasons. Something to remind me of all those Sunday afternoons in a BBC studio when I might have been lying in the sun in the garden. Something to remind me of Take It From Here. An old-time ballad by Bentley. No, no, not that. What I was really thinking about was a song by the keynotes. I'm rather partial to Policeman's Holiday.
Presenter
This is the song
Speaker 3
About the lights about
Presenter
Beats.
Speaker 3
My colour is
Speaker 2
Jesus unaunted and they noted for the feast But once a year he hangs his belt and helmet on the wall And he's up to take a holiday with wife and girl
Speaker 3
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
Speaker 2
La la la
Presenter
Once a year I got the leaves to
Presenter
In the sea he pops his green
Presenter
Now we'll have a dance band, Plumley. Fond of dancing, Edwards? Well, more as a listener than a performer, Plumley. But an appreciative one, no doubt. Indubitably. And when I do listen to dance bands, I think the one I enjoy most is Sid Phillips. And I'm one of those reactionary people that likes old tunes better than new ones. You like old band leaders, too, don't you?
Speaker 3
Uh
Presenter
You're listening, Sid? Dear old Phillips. Do you remember that programme the three of us used to do together? Ah, yes. We were both playing juvenile leads in those days, Edwards. I remember I cracked that rather good joke about Phillips having begun his professional career as a member of the quartet in which Gilbert and Sullivan played tennis sax and drums, respectively. Well, let's listen then to Sid Phillips and his pink hussars playing soothing music. What tune do you want? Stumbling or thereabouts.
Presenter
That programme of ours, of course, was the only one on the air in which the band was as old as the jokes. What next? Next, I'm going to get back to brass. Another brass band record? No, no, we won't have another one of those. This is an orchestra this time with a soloist on the French horn. And this, of course, is the most difficult brass instrument there is. I know, I've tried to play. I've tried them all, you know. The trumpet. The trombone, the euphonium, and the French horn I couldn't play. It was beyond me. Why? Well, it's uh difficult.
Presenter
The mouthpiece is so small, I've got to take it. Well, that is a point, you know.
Speaker 2
And the moustache is so big.
Jimmy Edwards
Uh
Presenter
Now the most brilliant horn player we have in England of course is Dennis Brain and I've chosen a record of his part of Richard Strauss's horn concerto. It's a beautiful if somewhat melancholy sound.
Jimmy Edwards
Yeah.
Jimmy Edwards
Mm-hmm.
Presenter
Now, a record by a comedian, the best comedian I ever saw. Who was that? Sid Field. I owed a tremendous lot to him, you know. He helped you, did he? Most generously, yes. In 1945, waiting to be slung out of the RAF and resigning myself to becoming a schoolmaster, I used to go into the Prince of Wales Theatre in London to watch Sid Field. One day, by pure chance, I found myself standing next to him in a pub quite near home, and I spoke to him. told him that I'd done a lot of comicking in the footlights at Cambridge and in the RAF, that I was a raw amateur and that I knew nothing and nobody at all in show business, that I wanted to have a go.
Presenter
Mind you, he didn't know me from Adam, but he gave me some excellent advice. He introduced me to his agent. He couldn't have been kinder. And as a comedian he couldn't have been funnier.
Presenter
Whenever I hear this record of his golfing sketch with Jerry Desmond, I can see it all.
Presenter
Now get hold of your club and do just as I do. Are you ready? Now, back.
Presenter
Meck.
Presenter
Slowly back.
Presenter
Slowly back. Now hit it. I'll never hit it from here. From where? Oh! What are you doing back there? Because you just said slowly back. You must have said it. Otherwise, I'd never move. What I'm doing back here. You never said it. Dear, you daft, stupid thing. When I say slowly back, I don't mean slowly back. I mean slowly back. That's the finish. That's the end of everything.
Jimmy Edwards
Be
Jimmy Edwards
Yeah, I'm a senior.
Presenter
Listen, please. What? When you say slowly back. Yes. You don't mean slowly back. No. You mean Slowly back.
Speaker 3
Yeah.
Presenter
Safe.
Speaker 3
Ah.
Presenter
Uh
Speaker 3
You silly, you should have said
Presenter
Yeah.
Presenter
Never mind, Sidney. Don't be discouraged. Try again. Again? I've never had a go at it yet, have I? Go on, hit it.
Presenter
Oh oh wait a minute, there's a girl coming.
Speaker 2
Well, darling, as I was saying, you'll be absolutely thrilled to bits when you see it, because it really is lu
Speaker 2
Well, that's the fourth ball I found today. How silly of people to leave them lying about like
Presenter
Love Lister.
Presenter
Now, your last record, Jimmy, what's that going to be? Well, a good noisy one this time, the storm music from Peter Grimes. Are you fond of opera? Well, frankly, Peter Grimes is the only opera I've ever really enjoyed. I've seen it twice. What's your objection to all the others? Well, no objection, but just I've never been quite able to accept all the operatic conventions, you know. I want to giggle when they sing these silly words like, a pretty weight, a pretty weight, you know, that's all. But with Peter Grimes, there's nothing stylized about it. You can believe it all. You forget it's an opera. You forget it's anything but an exciting story with exciting music. Music that's sufficiently modern to be enjoyed for its freshness and not modern enough to give you indigestion. I think it's wonderful stuff.
Presenter
Well, there you are, Jim. That's your eight records. Now you've got one more choice to make. You can take with you to the island a luxury object. You can take one thing with you, but it's nothing useful at all. It mustn't be anything useful.
Jimmy Edwards
Yeah.
Presenter
Well, I told you at the beginning I want to take my euphonium. You know, it's a musical instrument from the Latin, you what a phony shockin' um noise. You wouldn't call that useful, would you? Well, providing you promise not to live in it.
Jimmy Edwards
All right.
Presenter
And thank you, Jimmy Edwards, for letting us hear your choice of desert island discs. A pleasure, my dear Plumley. Goodbye, everyone. Goodbye.
Presenter
That programme, Desert Island Discs, was devised by Roy Plumley and introduced by him in the London studios of the BBC.
Jimmy Edwards
You've been listening to a podcast from the Desert Islandists Archive. For more podcasts please visit bbc.co.uk slash radio four.
Presenter asks
What's your objection to all [the] others [i.e., other operas]?
Well, no objection, but just I've never been quite able to accept all the operatic conventions, you know. I want to giggle when they sing these silly words like, a pretty weight, a pretty weight, you know, that's all. But with Peter Grimes, there's nothing stylized about it. You can believe it all. You forget it's an opera. You forget it's anything but an exciting story with exciting music.
“It started when I was at school. On Monday evenings, we used to have [O]TC parades, you know, what we used to call officers' training corps. It came to my notice that while all the other cadets were marching about in the hot sun, there was a class of person known as a bandsman who sat in the cricket pavilion and blew melancholy notes on a bugle.”
“I owed a tremendous lot to him, you know. ... He gave me some excellent advice. He introduced me to his agent. He couldn't have been kinder. And as a comedian he couldn't have been funnier.”
“But with Peter Grimes, there's nothing stylized about it. You can believe it all. You forget it's an opera. You forget it's anything but an exciting story with exciting music. Music that's sufficiently modern to be enjoyed for its freshness and not modern enough to give you indigestion. I think it's wonderful stuff.”