Alan Freeman:Disc jockey Alan Freeman, who has died aged 79, knew exactly what was happening when a sexually threatening young American named Presley ground out the words of Heartbreak Hotel, Blue Suede Shoes and Hound Dog in a sequence of cheap films as the 1950s ended.
Around the same time, Freeman, newly arrived in Britain from his native Melbourne, heard a BBC announcer introducing light music programmes in the style of ". . . that was a new gramophone record sung by Frank Sinatra".
Freeman put the two things together and, like the good Australian he was, surfed the huge wave that was just breaking on the shores of popular music. His punchy presentation style matched the energy of the early rock'n'rollers of the 1960s, Eric Burdon, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. The mellifluous BBC delivery of presenters like David Jacobs and Pete Murray soon faded, as did the easy-listening Tin Pan Alley menu of songs by Perry Como, Bing Crosby and Doris Day which they languidly served up.
The world was changing. Britain - so long a byword for middle-aged, middle-class values - woke up to the Swinging Sixties. More than half its population was below 25, and not overly impressed with conservative hair styles, palm court orchestras, and general mores of previous generations. Music became louder, clothing more extravagant and consumption conspicuous in a way which many found shocking.
And if the BBC and other great institutions were slow to change, a shock troop of young Australians arrived to help the stuffy old Poms to catch up. In publishing there was Richard (Oz magazine) Neville ready to shock, Germaine Greer was out there bra-burning, writer Clive James was working on being sardonic, and there - booming out of the new transistor radios, the MP3 players of the day - was Alan "Fluff" Freeman bringing in a golden age when pop music really mattered, and disc jockeys were kings.
RTÉ veteran Brendan Balfe observed this week that Freeman was first of the DJs to develop a distinct style that was unmistakably his own, aided by a series of catchphrases: "Greetings, Pop Pickers"; "Not 'arf"; "Alright?, Goodnight".
His signature tune, At the Sign of the Swinging Cymbal by the Brian Fahey Orchestra, reinforced his staccato verbal delivery. Balfe credits him with pioneering the use of "stings" (musical exclamation marks) to punctuate his delivery, sometimes plundering them from the classical music catalogue. They are widely used in broadcasting today. RTÉ Radio 1's Ronan Collins agreed with Balfe's verdict: "He was slick, clear and informative and a great influence on so many radio presenters and DJs - listen to early Larry Gogan!"
The nickname Fluff referred to his favourite well-worn wool pullovers. His nose looked like he had done too much boxing, and there was no possible excuse for his quiff.
But none of this mattered as he counted down the Top 20 hit singles of the day backwards with the number one last, keeping the verbals short, and putting the music in the driving seat where it belonged. It seems simple 40 years later, but then it was a revolution when broadcasters sounded like they wore dinner jackets in the studio.
Comedian Harry Enfield paid Alan the compliment of basing his popular character "Dave Nice" on him. Alan returned the compliment by appearing on Enfield's TV show.
Freeman started his European career as a disc jockey on Radio Luxembourg in 1957, then broadcasting pop music to Ireland and Britain. He arrived in Britain on nine months' leave of absence from his job as announcer in a radio station in his native Melbourne, but never returned to that job. Balfe recalls: "He was part of our youth", presenting programmes sponsored by the Pye record label, with few big names apart from the Searchers and Petula Clark signed to it.
In 1961 he moved to the BBC Light Programme. Pick of the Pops, which made his name, was part of a longer Saturday evening show until it emerged in its own right in 1962. He also presented BBC TV's Top of the Pops.
He later hosted afternoon programmes on BBC Radio 1, and the Rock Show from 1973 to 1978. Acts featured were as diverse as Pink Floyd, Jean Michel Jarre, Jethro Tull, Caravan, Genesis, Yes, King Crimson and Vangelis. He left the BBC to work for London's Capital Radio station. He then moved to Virgin Radio, returning to BBC Radio 2 in the late 1990s, presenting Pick of the Pops again, and a classical music show which showcased his lifelong love of opera.
The Cluskey brothers from Inchicore, Dublin - Con and Dec of Ireland's first boy band The Bachelors - became firm friends with the guy they first heard playing their hits, Diane, Charmaine, I Believe, I Wouldn't Trade You for the World, and others on radio. Freeman and Dec both served as King Rat of the Grand Order of Water Rats, a show business charity founded in 1899.
"We never did find out what Alan had in the huge carry-all bag which he seemed to have with him constantly," Dec recalled on hearing of the death of his friend.
Freeman was awarded an MBE in 1998. In 2000 he was presented with a Lifetime Achievement award at the Sony Radio Academy Awards. He had been well placed to count down the glory days of pop as adventurous young white musicians variously plundered, mined, adapted and popularised the rich vein of black and blues music which had hitherto been ignored or dismissed.
In his last years he suffered from chronic arthritis and asthma (he was a heavy and unapologetic smoker), and lived in a retirement home near London, supported by the Grand Order of Water Rats for those who had paid their dues to the entertainment business.
"All right pop pickers? All right! Stay bright. Good night."
Alan Leslie "Fluff" Freeman: born July 6th, 1927; died November 27th, 2006