I was in the sixth form when Squeeze appeared on Top of the Pops early in 1979 miming along to ‘Cool For Cats’. We bunch of teenage boys loved lyrics such as “Funny how their misses always look the bleedin’ same” and, living in Essex, it wasn’t difficult to imitate Chris Difford’s South London deadpan delivery. But who was that weird bloke with hat and cigar on the toy keyboards? We didn’t know at the time but the comic character turned out to be a certain Jools Holland.
From ‘Cool for Cats’ to ‘Up the Junction’ and ‘Another Nail in My Heart’, in studio or on video, the 21 year-old Jools would always add some joyful humour to proceedings. Yet I could never imagine him hosting a much-respected music show in the future.
Suddenly he vanished from the Squeeze line-up, apparently leaving his old mates to go solo. But the next time I saw him was not fronting another quirky New Wave band but fronting an engaging documentary on tour with another group, broadcast as The Police: Around the World. It was a revelation for me. I already liked The Police, then one of the biggest bands on the planet, but it was Holland’s energy, enthusiasm and convention-defying interviewing style which made it such an entertaining programme. Sting, Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland played along, of course, and the latter has since become one of my favourite music documentary presenters in his own right.
All this larking about with other pop stars served as a successful trial for is subsequent presenter gig, on Channel 4’s inaugural ‘yoof’ show The Tube from 1982. Its Friday early evening slot made regular viewing problematic for a London commuter like me but I made a special effort if there was one of my favourite bands due to perform. It was broadcast live so boasted the potential for chaos. Co-host Paula Yates just seemed to be stoned all the time but Jools just goofed about with a mere modicum of professionalism but his laid-back charisma] carried him through. There were some memorable live music performances but, having been groomed by Top of the Pops, the contrast in format was probably too great for me.
In the Eighties, Jools was certainly one of the hippest guys on the box, a key figure on trendy new Channel 4. He also made a few cameo appearances on the Beeb’s The Young Ones and French and Saunders. However, by the Nineties, he was cultivating a more mature image. His Squeeze years were put behind him and he was now the maestro of boogie-woogie piano, with his hugely popular Rhythm and Blues Orchestra founded in 1994.
This shift ran in parallel with the arrival of BBC2’s Friday night show Later… with Jools Holland. While the host was very much in charge, despite that deliberately disorderly manner, the programmes were very much focussed on music. Living on my own, Later… became a regular for me, the opening act determining whether or not I stayed up, knowing they would be back at the end. The middle-of-the-bill performers often strained my powers of loyalty to the limit; there’s only so much bluegrass slide guitar or Botswanan nose flute I could stomach but there was, and still is, no doubting the impressive eclectic mix of music genres booked.
The opening ‘jam’ and introductions in each episode of Later… , encompassing the circular studio layout set the scene. It wasn’t live but was sufficiently unpredictable in tone to feel like it – in a good way. The live music would be punctuated by less-than-polished interviews with musicians or celebs in the audience and Holland would always have the opportunity to tickle the ivories. While I liked the notion of being introduced to new acts, it was the familiar faces which appealed the most. I have fond memories of golden oldies like Ian Dury and also the still-relevant legends including those notoriously wary of interviews, including Morrissey in 2004.
Jools Holland’s Hootenanny has also become a staple of BBC2’s New Year’s Eve schedule. I no longer watch every year, but I do remember venturing into a Television Centre studio observation gallery one late November afternoon and witnessing Jools rehearsing (yes, he rehearsed!) a setpiece for the Hootenanny. What? The show was recorded? Ah, the wonders of TV!
These days he may be a more portly sixty-something but he can still illuminate an otherwise dull programme. Only a few months ago my attention was drawn to the screen during the otherwise tedious Celebrity Gogglebox when he shared a witty observant with viewing partner Vic Reeves. Ah, he’s still got it.
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