My Night Out at Later... with Jools Holland

How much do you think it would cost to get into a Kings of Leon gig with a capacity of less than 300? And to be just a few metres from Caleb and the boys, how early do you think you’d have to get there? Oh, and you might want to factor into the equation that Eric Clapton’s going to do a few numbers, how does that change things?

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the world of Later… with Jools Holland. For the uninitiated, it’s a British television institution now in its 37th series. The premise is simple; a range of bands gather in a room and play a few of their tracks while the ex-Squeeze man compères. There’s the odd interview and maybe a smattering of archive footage, but the show really is all about the music. This may not sound special on paper, but seeing quality live bands on television isn’t that common. While new and exciting music is well-catered for on the radio (and, in particular, by the BBC’s stations), the screen is the airwaves’ forgotten cousin if you’re a music lover.

When Later… is in the middle of a run, it’s broadcast twice a week: a recorded show on a Friday night preceded by a live broadcast on Tuesday evenings. In the studio, the pre-record is done first before the tiny studio goes live to the homes of Britain at 10pm. And it really is tiny - despite being stood in a corner at the back (and invisible to the viewers; I’ve already checked), I was only 20ft away from both Kings of Leon and Eric Clapton.

So, to the line-up. Later… is known for having a diverse range of up-and-coming and established acts, and this week was no exception. As previously mentioned, Kings of Leon and Eric Clapton were in attendance, and they were joined by hotly-tipped rock outfit, The Vaccines, a début UK television appearance from M.I.A. (backed by The Specials), eleven-piece folk act, Bellowhead, and relatively unknown singer-songwriter, Jonathan Jeremiah.

There were few musical surprises when the cameras started rolling - these bands are tight. The Specials have an incredible sense of rhythm that it’s almost impossible not to move to, Jonathan Jeremiah has a marvellous voice and Bellowhead are an incredible live proposition. In fact, Bellowhead were a revelation - think of a 21st Century Pogues but with a brass section and you’re on the right lines. Eric Clapton was the act of the night though, he may be 65 but he showed the stadium-baiting, anaemic Kings of Leon how it’s done and blew away the stodgy, meat-and-potatoes rock of The Vaccines.

Not being particularly au fait with the world of television, the most interesting part was seeing how it was all put together. There’s a large number of people constantly running around and even when acts are playing, there’s more activity at the other end of the studio to prepare the next song. I also had the opportunity to observe how musicians react to other musicians. It’s not often any of these acts stand around in plain view while their contemporaries ply their trade, but that’s the kind of show Later… is. I even devised my own game, “What does Clapton think?” where I looked over to see his reaction as events unfolded throughout the recording. My conclusion is that, like me, he’s now a fan of Bellowhead, but that’s little more than conjecture on my part.

At this point, I’d love to include some startling celebrity revelation that would have publicists tearing their hair out, but unfortunately, no dice. I passed Bellowhead’s Jon Boden in a corridor and saw soul singer Adele having a cigarette outside, but that’s hardly going to keep Perez Hilton busy.

What I can say, however, is how much fun I had and how much I hope to be able to spend another evening with Later… in the future. The show is only as good as its acts but in an age where there’s little music programming on television to speak of, Later… is a show we should appreciate, cherish and enjoy.

I Want Music AND Pictures

Heard any good TV recently? If you have, chances are it was courtesy of those kind people at the BBC. Thoughtful, interesting music programming may be seen by some as a niche interest, but is it really so eclectic and unprofitable that the only broadcaster willing to create any is also a public service?

This week, Later… with Jools Holland began its 2493rd series on the BBC. For those who haven’t seen it, it’s a simple format, where five or six artists in a studio play a number of their tracks interspersed with informal interviews and a sprinkling of archive footage. Great lengths are taken to promote a laid-back ambiance, with celebrities (i.e. probably whoever was hanging around Television Centre that evening) drinking non-branded lager and looking like they’re enjoying themselves.

I enjoy Later… with Jools Holland and watch it most weeks when it’s on, but let’s not kid ourselves, it’s not really very good. The show’s commitment to diversity is admirable, but the screen time is allocated on a fame and success basis. That sounds fair enough, and it’s probably the best business strategy, but it meant that this week, Paul Weller’s stodge-rock being phoned in took centre-stage, while Gogol Bordello’s thrilling spectacle was almost an afterthought.

However, the opportunity to see musicians live on TV is never a bad thing, and the artist choice is fantastic compared to Jools’ awkward presenting and interviewing acumen. In the most recent show, whilst interviewing Paul Rodgers, best-known for his work with Free and recently of Queen, Jools’ opening question was, “Are you still enjoying everything as much as always?” Not exactly Frost and Nixon – it’s hard to believe that Holland has been fronting music TV shows since 1982.

If you want to look outside the tired format of Later… for decent music programming, the answer – as usual – is BBC4. They make great use of the vast BBC collection of live performances and their recent …Britannia series was riveting, as they told the story of different musical genres (prog, blues and synth-pop) and their rise to prominence in the UK.

However, other than that, it’s slim pickings. You can point to the seemingly ever-growing number of music channels on satellite TV, but these are something different altogether. At best, they’re a jukebox and at worst, little more than an advert or misogynistic soft-pornography for teenagers.

So, why is this? Admittedly, only the BBC have the vast swathes of historic live footage, but no commercial broadcasters seem to be willing to take a punt the same way Channel 4 did with The Tube in the 1980s. As far as I can tell, the only music programs on these channels today always seem to have the word ‘Vodafone’ or ‘T-Mobile’ rather conspicuously in their title. True, this doesn’t lead to a lack of quality in theory, but it certainly seems that way in practice. Oh, and don’t even think of mentioning The X Factor as an example of music programming on a commercial TV station. Regardless of whether you love it or loathe it, it’s got about as much to do with music as a ham sandwich.

This is where the hastily cobbled theory comes together. Although many TV stations make documentaries, they are often mass-market (of the celebrity or shocking real-life, I-was-born-with-two-faces variety) or more highbrow, which in relation to the arts means sculpture, painting, classical music and film. Pop music falls between the cracks, as it’s a mass-market commodity (everyone likes music in some form) but keen interest in it and its history is relatively unusual (not that many people would want to watch a 90 minute documentary about the introduction of electronic music to the charts; more fool them). All this means that pop music documentaries and programming aren’t profitable – not weighty enough for the intellectuals yet too specialised for the average viewer.

Of course, there may be a plethora of other, more valid reasons, but it seems a crying shame either way. In the modern world, where you can download the entire back catalogue of any artist at the click of a button and people are able to discover music a generation before their birth with ease, there are stories to be told and film to be seen. Surely there is an appetite and an audience for these tales, as well as people hungry for live performance and interviews. Maybe one of the commercial broadcasters could take a gamble on producing a show such as Spectacle, where a handful of artists perform, then talk about their career and inspirations with Elvis Costello. Since Costello seems pretty busy in the States these days, maybe we can get someone else to front the UK version – Mark E Smith anyone?

Whilst writing this article, I discovered that Spectacle has actually been aired on terrestrial TV in the UK. The first series was shown on Channel 4, with each episode aired once and only once, at around midnight. This from the channel that brought us a special program just to give the UK its first full-length viewing of Michael Jackson’s Thriller video? This may be a losing battle…