Elisabeth Mahoney 

A week in radio: The Shed; Cerys Matthews’ Blue Horizon; Midweek

This global and eclectic musical selection emanating from Mark Coles's garden shed is a real treat, writes Elisabeth Mahoney
  
  

mark coles's shed, a week in radio
Mark Coles's shed of sounds Photograph: mark coles

The rain, Mark Coles explained at the beginning of his excellent music show, The Shed, has been causing havoc. "It's creating big, boggy puddles in the broad bean bed," he noted, peering out into the garden from the shed where he records the programme. The "miserable, lousy weather" was a theme, and put to good use: as he played Summertime by Black Umfolosi, Coles kicked open the shed door so we could hear the rain, layering this over the sweet, warm music to great effect.

This weekly online show is a treat. Global and eclectic in its music choices, but not terrifyingly so, it's an enjoyable meander through new tracks. Coles is the best sort of music host: passionate, knowledgable and – despite sounding like the vocal love child of John Peel and David Mitchell – distinctive. I like how he admits not having "the foggiest idea how to pronounce" something and his vivid, memorable descriptions of music and artists. A Swedish track is "sort of hurdy gurdy with sampled loops"; jazz saxophonist Andy Hamilton, who died recently, is remembered as "one of jazz's nice guys and probably already jamming with Errol Flynn".

There was passion and knowledge, too, in Cerys Matthews' Blue Horizon (Radio 4), a tribute to the blues record label. She mused on the many delights of vinyl ("the way you have to take care of it") and interviewed Mike Vernon, who set up Blue Horizon. He recalled dropping and breaking one of the original records; he has pristine copies of the rest. "I had a very emotional moment. I cried," he told Matthews. "I've still got the bits."

Midweek (Radio 4) can be a bit snoozy, but not when Lynda La Plante is a guest. In the final moments of this week's programme, she turned her withering attention to Charlotte Brontë. "She was an evil, twisted little woman," she told a gobsmacked Libby Purves. "Very adept at plagiarism; a compulsive liar. An absolutely vicious little dwarf."

 

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