Telly Talk: Now & then

A cheat sheet for dads and tweenagers alike, it was 30 years ago (not today) that a compilation album enthusiastically entitled; Now That’s What I Call Music, with a picture of a hip-looking pig on it first hit our high streets. If you’ve got it I’ll take it off your hands for a tenner. You probably shouldn’t take that offer.

Pretty much everyone has a Now album in their music collection. The number following the ‘Now’ will probably give away a fair bit about how old you were when you first took tentative steps into sounding out what pop music you might quite like. Whether it’s proudly displayed or hidden at the back like a guilty secret will be the giveaway as to how recently you purchased it. In case you’re wondering, if everyone can see it it’s either very old or very new. It’s a milestone in growing up. Along with learning the lyrics to your favourite bands and discovering some random song at the bottom of disc two, getting the full LP and declaring yourself in tune with emerging independent music. Now is jam-packed full of nostalgia, which is why this programme has so many talking heads.

To be honest, no matter how big a fan you were of Heaven 17, Atomic Kitten or The Saturdays, it’s really the info from the big man himself, Sir Richard Branson, that tells the story of this recession-proof franchise. With a brief introduction to Virgin Records and its mega-hit-making successes in the late ’70s and early ’80s, as well as show-yer-age re-runs of the K-tel adverts that were really the pre-cursor to today’s composite albums, it’s only a surprise that nobody else did it first. But then, Richard Branson does have a habit of making shrewd business decisions and making them seem like the obvious choice.

He was fed up with selling on the hits of his artists to K-tel and Ronco, so decided to team up with EMI and put together a ‘good’ compilation album without any of the bargain basement tracks the others had to take in order to get permission to use the big hitters. There is a reason the first two albums had a pig on them, there are stories about how difficult it is to design textured graphic covers before computer design was widespread, and there is a sweet story about how Richard Branson met his wife. But you don’t care. You just want to hear the old tracks.

“This is a warm hug of Bronski Beats and Kajagoogoo, with toppings of Robbie and a dollop of Madge”

Similar to the feeling got when sitting on the floor with a best friend surrounded by CDs, albums or tapes all out of their cases in a feast of favourites and shared history, this is a warm hug of Bronski Beats and Kajagoogoo, with toppings of Robbie and a dollop of Madge, plus more besides you didn’t even know you had at the back of your musical brain cupboard. It’s fun. And safe. Just like that first Now album.

The thing is, this is the first of four episodes and I’ve enjoyed this glut down memory lane. But just like when I bought my Now album it didn’t mean I’d get the next, and I can’t see what else there is to be said. This is how it happened – Now 84 came out earlier this year, Now 1 was the brainchild of a hippy and a happy executive, what more is there to be said? But then nobody expected a record with a picture of a pig on it to be the start of something still going in the next century. Maybe there is more Now can give. Or maybe some uncle will give me the rest of the series for Christmas in a desperate bid to keep me ‘hip’ with the kids.
The Story Of Now, ITV1, Sunday 26 May 2013