“We don’t have to talk,
We don’t have to smile,
‘Cos we’ve only just met,
But please stay for a while”
(“What’s this?” Etched vinyl, kids. Yep, it made a whole side of your expensive record completely unplayable. Buy, hey, look at the pretty flower pattern.)
My Dad wins competitions that he doesn’t even enter. A crate of champagne will turn up at the door. Or tickets will arrive for a weekend away. Once he won a car (which he wanted to sell, but my mum nabbed it).
My winnings total a 12-inch by the La’s (whom I never liked, so that went to my friend Laura G) and a Darling Buds T-shirt. Impressive, eh? I snagged them both in the same competition. A Sunday night phone-in on Radio 210 – the local Reading station. The presenter, Sarah Jane, phoned me after the show to take my details and we got chatting about indie stuff.
The next week I got a name check and the new Buds single dedicated to me. And so began a weekly correspondence where I’d send in requests (The Wonder Stuff for my mum and some Pixies for my sister) and get my letters read out. This continued for about a year and I was mighty chuffed to get a shout out in the final show. The radio just hasn’t meant the same to me since – you never hear a good Darling Buds giveaway any more.
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