Posts Tagged ‘Today FM


In praise of: Sean Moncrieff

I’ve noticed that the posts here that get the best reaction and generate the most traffic are the ones where I’m bemoaning some unimportant psuedo-outrage. I’m currently getting a lot of attention due to my Beverly Flynn post, which although I think expresses a valid point does have an air of holier than thou about it. I also attracted much traffic with my Gillian McKeith rant, and my most popular post by far is my pathetic attempt to tell Declan Ganley to go fuck himself. Now while I’m grateful for the attention, I can’t say I’m entirely happy about his. I’m really not a negative person in real life, and I didn’t start this blog to be another Twenty Major wannabe.

It is for is reason that I’m writing this post, with a mind to it becoming a regular category where I just talk about something I really like. In this episode, Sean Moncrieff.

When Newstalk gave Sean Moncrieff  an afternoon slot, it was clearly a naked attempted to cash in on the popularity of Ray D’arcy’s show on Today FM, that being a light-hearted show where people engage in Seinfeld-esque conversations about kitschy topic that in the grand scheme of things are ultimately unimportant in every conceivable way. I find it easy to forgive Moncrieff, however, as his presentation and interview style is just so pleasant and agenda-free that it’s a joy to let him into our homes every mid-afternoon. This is in contrast to, say, the oh-so media tarty smugness of The Ray D’arcy Show.

I know I said this was to be a positive post, but I’ve levelled a fairly serious charge there and I feel I should back it up. I recall once being forced to listen to D’arcy while in a doctor’s waiting room (actually, it was an STI clinic, but I wasn’t there because I was worried about anything. I was just, you know, making sure). Kildare’s favourite son was interviewing Bill O’Herlihy, and building up Bill’s status as a ‘legend’ so much that I began to wonder if D’arcy was getting off on it. Anyway, one of the question asked of Bill was, “What’s the secret of your success?” followed by, “hang on, wait till I go to a break and tell me then.” Now I studied radio broadcasting in college (under the caring guidance of Galway Bay FM’s Bernadette Prendergast), and I was repeatedly informed during this course that the golden rule of broadcasting is “do not alienate the listener”. If I tried a stunt like “wait until we’re off the air so we can have a proper chat” Prendy would have kick me out of the class, and rightly so. It’s different for Ray thought because, well, he’s Ray. This exemplifies a self-satisfied smugness with D’arcy that can also be seen when he suddenly thinks he’s Jeremy Paxman and starts harassing interviewees who offend his sensibilities, with his belief that he’s allowed to say “fuck” on air whenever he likes, or when he was doing Blackboard Jungle and would tell all-female teams, “you did very well on sport, considering you’re girls.”

Back to things I like. Moncrieff on Newstalk wins out because the host’s ability interview and discuss topics without being overly judgemental. He knows the show isn’t meant to be taken too seriously, and thus avoids taking himself too seriously. He’s also a naturally funny guy, and can take piss out of most topics without betraying his own agenda.

This being said, Moncrieff’s broadcast career hasn’t been a series of hits. He has been involved in enough shitty television for even Gerry Ryan to say “jaysus, that’s shockin'” He’s perhaps best know for Don’t Feed the Gondolas, which although was often quite hilarious, couldn’t avoided the fact that it was a rip-off of far better BBC comedy quiz shows (it was also the show that made Brendan O’Connor a household name, an unforgivable sin). There was also that weird game show where couples competed to win a house, and perhaps worst of all Good Grief Moncrieff, a summer schedule chat show that every week featured the most uninteresting guests in the history of light entertainment. Moncrieff made the best of this by injecting each episode with his mildly anarchic sense of humour. Nonetheless, he clearly hated doing it.

The thing is, all of this, and I mean every second of televised badness (except O’Connor, obviously) can be forgiven due to Moncrieff’s first foray into television. The End was the kind show that was so fresh and original it was hard to believe it was on RTE, expect of course when they would ironically point out their own shittiness due to being an RTE product. For those who don’t remember, The End was a mid-nineties show that basically was last thing broadcasted on RTE 2 before end of transmission on Saturday nights (there was also a more cerebral Friday night offering hosted by Barry Murphy). Because it was on at a time when normal people were either in bed or out having a life, Moncrieff and co knew they could get away with doing whatever they liked, and frequently…well, frequently didn’t bother. They could get away with that too. One highlight I recalled was when the producer put the entire show on Buy and Sell for a laugh, only for it to be bought by a crazed Australian. It was the kind of enforced wackiness that Saturday morning kids’ shows are known for, except it was for adults and for some reason it worked.

So that’s it. I quite like Sean Moncreiff and if you haven’t given him a listen I suggest you do. He’s also a known as a talented writer, with a couple of novels under his belt. I can’t comment on this as I haven’t read his stuff. I can say, however, that this is one more thing that makes him better than Ray D’arcy.


Sweet dreams

I had an odd sex dream this morning that I’d like to share. Basically, I had gotten a job as some sort of researcher on The Last Word, and on my first day I seduced a colleague and took her behind a bank of computers to have my way with her. Poor Matt Cooper had to do a phone interview about the pork situation while distracted by me makin’ bacon in the corner.

After our coupulation – immediately after (at least he let us finish)  – an annoyed Matt lead the two of us to a meeting with Today FM’s managers.  I was about to make a passionate “fire me if you will but don’t blame the girl” speech, but I woke up. So I have no idea if my speech worked or if I was fired.

I’m not sure if this is meant to tell me something. Perhaps my subconscious is trying to advise me not to have sex with anyone on the first day of a new job, but that the kind of advice one shouldn’t need their subconscious to know. Maybe my mind is telling me about some goer working in Today FM that I might be interested in. Now that’s an interpretation I like.

The woman living next door to me is a well-know personality on Today FM. Maybe I should ask her what she thinks.