Radio 4 PM - Through the years

I adore Eddie Mair. There. The love affair is public. I just shake my head in wondrous disbelief as he allows radio to be the best it can. The pauses. The short, barbed questions: those daggers covered in cotton wool. The deadpan retorts. The potent questions masquerading as statements. The politeness coated with innocent acid. And - the gifted, gifted teasers at the outset. I could go on. He is a master; and yet maybe not yet recognised sufficiently for his brilliance.

I once sat in the car at a lonely filling station on the cold moors of the M62, unable to get out of the car during one of his interviews which had turned into art. Admittedly over a glass of wine, I wrote lovingly to say as much; and Eddie took the trouble to reply.

The show for which he is now rightly famous is PM. But it has not always been like that.

PM began in 1970, following the 'Broadcasting in the 70s' report which paved the way for the BBC radio services to carve out their own sovereign states. As you can hear on this Boo: William Hardcastle and Derek Cooper heralded a programme which "sums up the day and your evening starts here".

It did have a twiddly-pom signature tune, thanks to the Radiophonic workshop. This later gave way to an orchestral piece; and I often dreamed of co-hosting that very show with Valerie Singleton, voicing up to the Da-da-da-da-dah-dah-dah. It was never to happen. Not that she's dead, you understand. She just doesn't care about me.

There is no theme now; save for pip pip peep. But Eddie's powerfully-chosen words are better than the best orchestra in the world; or even any fine piece from the delectable Delia Derbyshire. The last sig seemed wrong when the programme covered the death of Princess Diana; and has never since seemed right.

PM is the BBC at its best.