Pleasant, cheerful and a little exhausting: Graham Norton on Virgin Radio reviewed

In my parents’ house, the radio is always tuned to one of two stations: Magic FM and LBC. When Magic is playing, it wafts through the kitchen like an over-scented camomile candle. LBC, by contrast, hits you like a strong gust of Novichok: it is undiluted poison, carefully synthesised from the DNA of hysterical US shock jocks. At times, they feel like the two paths for modern radio: a draught of herbal tea or a fit of apoplexy; James O’Brien having kittens or ‘Broken Strings’ playing constantly, for ever.

Where does that leave the chatty host, the one who natters cheerfully while you potter aimlessly, who rabbits on while you faff about doing nothing? Listening to Graham Norton’s new show on Virgin Radio, I often felt as though I were listening to something from a slightly earlier time, before all media had been optimised to either soothe or infuriate the consumer.