http://everygreatsongever.tumblr.com/post/21210416330/uk-prog-volume-one-notes

25 May 1967. Also in the studio that week were; Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Titch, Dusty Springfield and The Tremeloes. Alan Freeman was the host.

8 June 1967. Also in the studio that week were; Cilla Black, Englebert Humperdink, PP Arnold, The Turtles and The Young Idea. Jimmy Savile was the host.

15 June 1967. Also in the studio that week were; Cream, Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Titch and Judith Durham. Alan Freeman was the host.

26 December 1967. Also in the studio that Boxing Day were; The Bee Gees, Long John Baldry, Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Titch, Lulu, Cliff Richard and Englebert Humperdinck, plus The Go Jo’s interpretation of ‘Reflections Of My Life’. Jimmy Savile, Alan Freeman and Pete Murray were the hosts.

18 May 1972. Also in the studio that week were; Hurricane Smith, New World and Val Doonican.

Only the Christmas edition survives, the earliest complete show to do so.

Thanks for reading, tout le monde!

Gemma Jones, actress, singer(1976)

Patrick Lichfield, photographer(1981)

Lady Mosley, Mitford sister(1989)

David Blunkett, politician (1990)

Micheal Howard, politician(2004).

Yeah, that doc, where they promoted “Hello I love you won’t you tell me your name” (the title on my copy) by having Ray sing it on the doc.

(If it’s that one)

And will you welcome, please, Mr and Mrs Wade-Shoes and their adopted Japanese son, Bruce…

A few million British television viewers would have been introduced to The Doors via a special Granada World In Action documentary – “The Doors’ message is uncompromising, confused and extremely loud”, etc. Channel 4 repeated it about 20 years ago and I remember Jim Morrison coming across as a pompous twerp when I saw it then.

(N.B.: for younger readers, Stanley Dance was a sort of jazz Geir).

I think Marcello’s correct — the US underground pretty much fell off the radar of widecast transational pop for a while, for a variety of reasons, some deliberate, and needed several significant media revamps (second half of British invasion, arrival of FM radio, bedding in of Radio One) before it re-established global broadcast potential

But there’s also a cultural basis; the opening sequence of the TV adaptation of The History Man is set at a student disco; hip young Howard Kirk demands that the DJ play the Doors and Jefferson Airplane but the DJ ignores him completely and spins “Silence Is Golden” instead.

And, he never did!

Any road. After punctum’s long description, mine seems churlish. But, I never ever liked this one. Seemed ponderous and too impressed with itself. A foretaste of prog, indeed.

But “Whiter Shade” was the last and perhaps the greatest (at least, in terms of impact) manifestation of the shortly-to-be-snatched power of pirate radio; John Peel played the white label on Radio London incessantly, demand for the record went through the roof and the song went to number one in its third week of release. Not bad for a hastily-reconstituted Mod band formerly called The Paramounts. Fanciful interpretations of the lyrics abounded and continue to do so. Noble heads bowed duly at the Bach quotations (now we can Take Pop Seriously). Perhaps it was a late act of penitence by the public for underlooking “Strawberry Fields Forever.” Even Spike Milligan applauded the “surreal” lyric.

None of this should detract from the fact that, by the authors’ own admission, “Whiter Shade” was essentially a hybrid (or even a proto-bootleg?) of “Air On A G String” and “When A Man Loves A Woman” with some cod-Dylan non-sequiturs pasted atop. Even though the “16 vestal virgins who were leaving for the coast” motif was subsequently half-inched by Don McLean for “American Pie” and the “although my eyes were open/they might just have well have been closed” couplet could stand as a direct response to “Silence Is Golden,” the important thing was that “Whiter Shade” sounded immense, like a discovered monument whose original purpose had long since been mislaid – and the immensity was all down to the astonishing performance, on organ and lead vocal, by, respectively, Matthew Fisher and Gary Brooker. The latter might have been singing nonsense (“Tutti Frutti,” anyone?) but you could not deny that he meant it.

Furthermore, “Whiter Shade” inaugurated a distinguished and still exceptionally undervalued body of work; of Procol’s later work, the albums Conquistador, A Salty Dog, Procol’s Ninth and, their masterpiece, 1974′s Exotic Birds And Fruit, are especially worth rediscovering – wondrous yet sober meditations on the limitations and expansions of life, unapologetically pretentious and quite, quite splendid. And they also act as a direct leyline to the indispensable role Brooker plays in Aerial – his organ and harmony vocals are a wonder of warmth throughout, the carpeted foundation for Kate’s timeless flights. Isn’t the truth that plain to see?

On the longest day of the year, I visit a friend’s house for an all-night barbeque. As day turns to night, we sit outside in her garden, at first singing our hearts out to power ballads (Total Eclipse of the Heart/I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing/etc), and then, well past midnight, a never-ending playlist of 60s songs.

As the sun rose and a new day dawns, we play this, while sipping on the last of the punch and blissfully swaying along. I knew of it, but hadn’t ever properly listened to it before, maybe only hearing a few seconds every now and again on TV. And it captured me so effortlessly that since then, every time I hear the song, I’m transported back to that night, the sheer happiness I felt, and the optimism of life to come.

I don’t care what the lyrics mean. I just know that whenever it plays, I’m in that garden again. That to me is the power of music.