From Virgin Prunes to elder lemons

RADIO REVIEWS:CONSIDERING they have been close friends for nearly 40 years, Gavin Friday and Guggi got off on the wrong foot. In the early 1970s, Friday (or Fionán Hanvey, as he was christened) endured the taunts of Guggi (then called plain Derek Rowan) whenever he passed the latter's family home; as they both lived on the same north Dublin street, this happened frequently. Soon, however, the two teenagers – both natural outsiders – bonded over a common love of music, going on to form the avant-garde punk group The Virgin Prunes.

As Friday, still a singer, and Guggi, now a painter, chatted with Miriam O’Callaghan (

Miriam Meets

. . ., RTÉ Radio 1, Sunday), the deep connection between the two men was obvious, not least in the casual way they traded jibes. But one voice was conspicuously absent: the third misfit from Cedarwood Road, their mutual friend Paul Hewson, aka Bono. Bono cropped up frequently in conversation, but only occasionally did O’Callaghan deal directly with the elephant in the room: whether her guests felt overshadowed by their famous friend. She inquired if it was tough that U2 “did so mega-great” while the Virgin Prunes remained a cult item, but both demurred, with Friday saying their band had been “hipper”. Asked whether Bono’s painting with the pair, during the sessions for

The Joshua Tree

, was an act of kindness (the paintings were then exhibited and sold), Guggi said it was also a kind gesture by him and Friday, as the U2 singer was “blocked”. Even now, Guggi felt that U2’s stardom was “part of my success”.

That O’Callaghan did not delve more deeply into the issue was frustrating, but to do so would have gone against the relaxed atmosphere she creates on her show, encouraging guests to interact and open up. On that basis, Friday and Guggi provided one of the programme’s most entertaining pairings in some time.

The two men talked revealingly about the class and religious tensions on their street. Friday was from a working-class Catholic background, Guggi from a lower-middle-class, fundamentalist Protestant family of 10 children. They spoke about their tense relationships with their fathers, each complementing the other’s account of paternal difficulties. Their contrasting temperaments emerged, Friday self-dramatising, Guggi more self-contained. Thanks to their famous pal, the two men are now insiders, but O’Callaghan showed they had a tale well worth hearing.

O'Callaghan was a prominent presence on last week's radio, acting as guest host on Today with Pat Kenny(RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays). She stamped her personality on the slot in a manner not normally associated with stand-in presenters, bringing a lighter touch and looser quality to proceedings.

During Wednesday’s discussion on the condition of Ireland’s heritage sites, her approach was less obviously prepped than Kenny’s. Instead she played up the opposing views of her guests, the academic Alfred P Smyth and George Moir of the OPW. The result was a lively discussion on what could have been an arid topic. Meanwhile, her interview with the chef Catherine Fulvio had a natural, chatty feel unimaginable under Kenny’s tutelage. O’Callaghan is not about to oust Kenny, but her radio skills go beyond asking old friends to reminisce.

The ties that bind were an overriding theme in last week's Documentary on One: Logan Way(RTÉ Radio 1, Saturday), which told the story of the notorious Irish-American gangster James "Whitey" Bulger through the prism of his brother William, a powerful Massachusetts politician. The documentary was a coup for its producer Ciaran Cassidy: William had for years refused to speak to reporters about his older brother, who was arrested in June after years on the run. Even now, William was chary about Whitey. He spoke about their poor childhood in the eponymous Boston neighbourhood and described his own ascent to the presidency of the state senate, but was adamant his political success owed nothing to his feared brother. "Anyone who tells you I was advantaged by my brother is engaged in a big falsehood," he said. William, a tough politician who spoke of elections being "vindicatory", felt wronged by such accusations, stoked by "political foes".

But he said little about the pain inflicted by his brother, who is accused of 19 murders while he worked as an FBI informer. Cassidy also spoke to the family of Michael Donahue, an innocent bystander allegedly gunned down by Whitey. Donahue’s bereaved son was philosophical about William’s faithful reticence about his brother. The politician was unlikely to have a public space named after him, punishment enough for such a driven man.

Underlining the point, the documentary ended with William pointing out a park plaque bearing a quote from Seneca: “Loyalty is the highest good in the human heart.” It was a revelatory moment, hinting at William’s self-image as a persecuted party. The closest bonds often come with a cost, but William paid a small price compared to others.

radioreview@irishtimes.com

Radio moment of the week

On Wednesday, The John Murray Show (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) appeared to strike radio gold when Siobhan, Melbourne’s contestant at the Rose of Tralee, spoke bitterly about her disappointment at not winning the pageant the night before: “What I’m going to take from this experience is failure, resentment and maybe some small bottles of shampoo from the hotel.” It was jaw-dropping stuff – except there was no Melbourne Rose at this year’s contest. “It was a figroll of our imagination,” Murray said the next day, chuckling at his wheeze.

But far from subverting the “lovely girls” image of the Rose of Tralee, the item seemed self-satisfied and facile.