When Wireless Nights hit the Radio 4 airwaves in the spring of 2012, I was not at all sure about Jarvis Cocker’s particular, not to say eccentric, manner of presentation, butting in, making his presence felt, never letting us forget that it’s his programme, he’s in charge. His coy comments were too self-conscious for my taste. He didn’t sound natural; his after-dark meanderings felt too contrived. Now I realise I had completely missed the point. Cocker’s deliberate mannerisms, his upside-down way of looking at things, his curiosity and desire to share with us his thoughts are all very much part of who he is, and once you get used to his style of delivery it all becomes very beguiling. When he invites us to join him as he delves ‘beneath the surface of what to the untrained eye or ear could appear to be just one more ordinary night on Planet Earth’, I no longer feel the urge to switch off but rather revel in its potential for pretentiousness. Why not go over the top? After all, there is nothing stranger than life itself.
This week, late on Monday, he was riding the all-night Tube through London with Kylie. ‘No, not that Kylie,’ he can’t resist adding, which I would once have found irritating but now recognise that he’s only saying out loud what has just flashed through his mind, and mine too. He makes us feel we’re co-conspirators, we’re of one mind with the great Jarvis Cocker, and that’s hugely encouraging.
Kylie is a young single mother and student who drives trains at the weekend to make ends meet. She’s only been doing it for six months but already sounds surprisingly confident and matter-of-fact about being by herself in the cab of a train that’s about to hurtle at 70 mph, yes, that fast, she says, through a tight hole into utter darkness.
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