I sometimes hear Radio Jackie in the mornings at work. For some reason, my colleagues in the Royal Mail Delivery Office where we prepare tonnes of mail for delivery to the ever grateful great Britsh public don’t like the BBC. The radio is on but we have to put up with Magic, Heart, Kiss, Capital and occasionally Radio Jackie. Once in a blue moon, we might get Absolute or Xfm, but that’s a very special occasion, someone’s birthday or maybe they’re celebrating 40 years in the job.
Radio Jackie is based in Tolworth, just up the road, so at least the traffic reports are potentially useful. I have sometimes called my wife at home to tell her she should drive to work a different way today, as Leatherhead Road is blocked.
The music played at breakfast time is OK, nothing too challenging but equally, nothing to get excited about either. The music mix is better and wider than Magic claims for itself. The boy (not as funny as he thinks he is) and girl (can’t possibly be as stupid as she acts) combination of presenters is fairly typical of these breakfast shows.
So what a surprise to read about it in yesterday’s Guardian:
A day in the life of Radio Jackie, with Peter Robinson.