Another belated column. Is Nick Grimshaw still a thing?

Is it only people of a certain age who see music and radio as inseparable? Or are the days of the broadcast DJ as arbiter of popular culture gone?
We recently saw Radio One listening figures at an all-time low as the station encountered an identity crisis – breakfast show host Nick Grimshaw quoted as saying his job was to lose Radio One’s older listeners. And it seems he’s doing sterling work.
No, radio – traditional radio… Radio One, if you will – is in crisis, under attack from all angles. Spotify and its variants offer a new way to listen in a world already over-populated by easy-access music sources. Internet listening via phone and TV has opened up a wealth of international sounds, and while digital radios get cheaper, the holy grail of DAB as standard in every new car may be overtaken by webradio. And, of course, iPods allow you to have your own station, minus any inane DJ chat, in your pocket.
Traditionalists (by which I mean cat-loving 80-year-old grannies) still like the radio on ‘for company’. Whether you’d want Kiwi Beeb defector Zane Lowe caterwauling in your kitchen is another matter, but subscribers to Apple Radio will get just that. Bolted onto iTunes, your $9.99 per month will get you Spotify-style playlisting with a massive choice of music, classified and genre-fied to accompany your jogging, cooking, romancing, or whittling… plus video exclusives, ‘curated’ channels – where you can share the choices of Rufus Wainright and Trent Reznor – and a ‘For You’ tab which tells you what to like, supposedly based on your own preferences.
And on top of all that, Beats 1 – a radio station of sorts. Lowe has been headhunted from Radio One, as a DJ and ‘tastemaker’ (of course the real tastemakers are the pluggers employed by the major record labels) and other new presenters like Sir Elton John, St Vincent and Drake are lined up. But this format is nothing new – other stations, notably radiomagnetic.com, have had a similar setup for years.
Although, Apple has always been good at ‘developing’ other ideas, from the Mac interface(Xerox PARC) to iTunes’ ancestor Soundjam.
Of course, luddites have to realise that radio is in constant flux thanks to evolving technology. There was uproar when it was announced that the Chart Show has moved to a Friday. Older readers will recall the previous move, from a Tuesday lunchtime. I can still remember listening on a battered tranny (yes, that’s what they were called back in’t day) at primary school. That was of course when the charts were a big deal, when you had to sell thousands of copies of a 7” single to get into the top 40 rather than downloads and of course, streams. ‘Adapt or die’ is the cry, and like the NME – becoming a freesheet after 60-odd years – Xfm is, like Apple Music, said to be throwing its hopes behind new presenters including Chris Moyles and Vernon Kaye – scarcely following the station’s alternative ethos, but ideal for their rumoured re-focus on 90s and Britpop.
Meanwhile, 6 Music canters on happily with increased figures. The alternative station gets an easier ride having no advertisers to satisfy – though listener figures are important. 6 was nearly closed down until a public campaign saved it, but with 1000 BBC job losses on the way, everyone will be looking over their shoulders – even the superstar DJs.

The Reverse Cowgirls
Outskirts
(Northern Cowboy)
Even the Wild West was dragged into the 21st Century, by the iron horse. Similarly, this country-lovin’ quartet have evolved from debut album ‘Hokum’. There’s still a mix of of psychobilly and Hank Williams, most notably on opener ‘Cry Cry’ while ‘God Bless the Queen’ is perhaps, from its title, punk in all but name as frontman Hugh McLachlan comes across at times as a hellfire preacher, perhaps channelling the spirit of Cramps frontman Lux Interior. Across its 11 tracks, ‘Outskirts’ progresses from its garage rock roots as the female harmonies come to the fore. ‘Here It Comes’ has a stripped-down, Shangri Las sound while closer ‘Brutal Stain’ is similarly crying out for a big Spector-esque production number, but the back-to-basics sound fits in nicely with the band’s rough-and-ready DIY ethic. In lieu of any high-faloutin’ studio remixes, catch them live, or play this album loud. HHHH

(This article originally appeared in the Portsmouth View)