As if there wasn’t enough turbulence in the world, RTÉ Radio 1 is doing its bit to add to the mood of uncertainty and confusion. On Monday, anyone expecting to hear the familiar opening themes to the station’s shows is instead greeted by new signature tunes across the schedule, each cut from the same template of brooding intros and dramatic flourishes.
It’s all part of a new – and perplexingly generic – sound for Radio 1, presumably to draw attention to the station’s dynamic overhaul, a mere five months after the fact.
Nor are listeners the only ones discombobulated by the sonic makeover. Oliver Callan (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) apparently struggles to hit his marks as he opens Monday’s show. “Where do I come in?” he asks as the music plays beneath him.
Admitting that the plethora of refreshed jingles will “take a bit of getting used to”, Callan hints that he’s not fully on board with his show’s new theme. “I’m now presenting Euronews at three o’clock in the morning, it would appear,” he drily remarks, neatly skewering the tune’s identikit nature.
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That said, there’s more topical resonance during the graveyard shift on a 24-hour news channel than there is on Callan’s show, even in these chaotic times.
True, the presenter casts his satirist’s eye over governmental turmoil in his introductory monologue, ribbing the Kerry Independent TD Michael Healy-Rae for resigning his post as minister of state for forestry, “a job so tiny it never existed before”.
But the only heroics by a favourite son of the Kingdom that Callan gets to discuss in depth occurred 110 years ago: he hears the travel consultant Sinéad Kennedy describe how she recently retraced the epic Antarctic rescue voyage undertaken in 1916 by the Kerry-born explorer Tom Crean and his expedition leader Sir Ernest Shackleton.
The item, in fairness, is diverting. Callan sounds genuinely fascinated – he even recommends a biography of Crean – and converses with his guest in casual yet engaged fashion.
He displays this same manner during other (perhaps unexpectedly) interesting conversations, whether talking to the biographer Anne Chambers about her memoir or to the tour guide Margaret Leahy about foraging edible wild plants. (Top tips: don’t eat raw nettles and think twice about picking mushrooms.)
But while Callan is always curious and friendly, there’s a slightly rote feel to some other segments, for instance on new stage productions of Oscar Wilde classics. Such are the unavoidable pitfalls of hosting a grab bag of lifestyle topics and celebrity-adjacent chats – and, to his credit, Callan maintains a leisurely atmosphere throughout.
But, to reprise a regular refrain, compared to the punchy programme that he helmed before Radio 1’s relaunch last year, there’s less urgency or subversion in the later, longer version that Callan now presents, if only because he has to spread his resources more thinly. It’ll take more than a change in music to resolve that predicament.
A new theme tune also graces Today with David McCullagh (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), but so steadfastly phlegmatic is the host that he doesn’t bother mentioning it.
Then again, the unruffled assurance that McCullagh has brought to his tenure makes it easy for listeners to overlook such changes. (Still, ditching the instantly recognisable tune that served the Today show’s three previous presenters well seems a baffling move, prizing corporate uniformity over distinctive identity.)
That McCullagh is reliably well briefed is important to his on-air persona, but what marks him out is the laconically drawling style that rapidly has become his trademark. Talking to the author Jamie Bartlett about the perils of using AI, the host highlights the technology’s tendency to “hallucinate”, or get things wrong, pointing to a handy example. “I should offer my condolences,” he says to his guest, “because according to Google’s [AI bot] Gemini, you’re actually dead.”
[ I have one quibble with David McCullagh’s first month on radioOpens in new window ]
Even when McCullagh’s approach misfires, it’s memorable. Discussing the fraught experience of returning to the workplace after maternity leave, the journalist Anna Whitehouse vividly describes the difficulty of going into the office after hearing the “primal screams” of her baby being left into a creche.
“Mind you, I suppose the other thing is you can have a cup of coffee in peace,” McCullagh cracks, somewhat glibly; winningly world weary though McCullagh’s tone can be, his sensitivity training might need a tweak.
His laid-back demeanour doesn’t obscure his argumentative side, however. As the political aftershocks of the fuel protests rumble on, McCullagh has pointed exchanges with the Sinn Féin TD David Cullinane on whether he supports the blockading of oil depots.
“We supported the protests,” the deputy says.
“That’s not what I asked you,” the host shoots back.
But when, after some toing and froing, Cullinane concedes that he supports the actions, the host thanks the politician – with apparent sincerity – for his “clear answer”. Clearly, McCullagh isn’t afraid to change his tune.
The fallout from the protests may have had negative consequences for the Coalition, but, as such moments attest, it has proved a consolatory boon for listeners who enjoy the transient pleasures of political sparring on the airwaves.
Nowhere is this more evident than on Drivetime (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), which serves up several heated spats, infusing the early-evening show with a welcome frisson of vigour; its hosts, Katie Hannon and Colm Ó Mongáin, approach their interviews and analysis with purpose and precision.
Talking to Ó Mongáin about backbench discontent within Fianna Fáil, the chief whip, Mary Butler, talks up the Government’s response to the fuel crisis, but – as with ministers interviewed elsewhere – appears defensive in attitude, reinforcing the impression of an administration losing its grip.
But that’s as nothing compared with the ding-dong between Ó Mongáin and the Sinn Féin TD Rose Conway-Walsh, in which the host vainly tries to determine if his guest endorses the blockades. (It’s a regular thread of questioning.)
By his own count, Ó Mongáin makes five attempts to get a definitive answer from his guest, his exasperated utterances of “with respect” increasing by the minute; eventually Conway-Walsh allows agreement with “the aims and the sentiment” of the protesters.
Though short on clarity – or indeed optimism – the encounter is long on snappy drama, capping a strong week for the Drivetime hosts. After all, when it comes to compelling radio, a testy confrontation is music to the ears.
Moment of the week
Always a cheerful companion for early-morning audiences, Shay Byrne sounds much like himself as he returns to Rising Time (RTÉ Radio 1) after a short absence, yakking with the actor and Lyric FM presenter Simon Delaney and joking with the sports correspondent Darren Frehill.
But the host isn’t quite as chipper as usual, as when he accidentally – if fleetingly – cuts himself and Frehill off-air: “I pressed the wrong button – ah you know, it all falls apart.”
As the show ends, Byrne opens up. “As many of you know, my mum, Hilda, passed away two-and-a-half weeks ago,” he says, “She’s been part of the show for 15 years – and she’ll continue to be.”
Byrne then thanks people for their messages of sympathy. “I really appreciate my friends and colleagues, and all of you listening as well, who are my friends,” he says, “First day done.”
Condolences, Shay. It’s good to have you back.
