For a child born into the arms of World War Two, the future seemed to be one of promise and growth while the world as you knew it collapsed, excitingly, around your ears.
The privations of the conflict - aerial bombardment, shortages, evacuation to unknown areas - were followed by the promise of something better growing up amongst the rubble of Europe. By the end of the war, politicians were struggling to be seen as better than the next man in their plans for the future.
That future was to change the face of the country. As the forties gave way to the fifties, the generation who had known nothing but war in their formative years suddenly lived in a new country. This new country had a free health service, education for all, a social security safety net for the poorest, and full employment. Of all the sections of society to benefit, a new one that had appeared because of the prosperity was the one to benefit most.
Teenagers, or teen-agers, as the first, frightened mumbles in the newspapers had it, stayed in education longer than their parents. Their parents themselves had more money than their children’s grandparents. Many had jobs, leading to more prosperity and a need for somewhere to spend it.
What goes around comes around. Teenagers spent their money then as now on pop music. This was something truly frightening to the previous generation - loud and threatening, turning respectable sons into thuggish teddy boys and china daughters into screaming hysteria candidates.
The television company that could hit on a formula to unite these two distinct sections of the family - the teenagers with the money, the parents with the power - would strike it rich.
The BBC acted first, with ‘Hit Parade’ in 1952 (just missing the start of the boom years) and ‘Off the Record’ following in 1955. Neither managed to grasp the subject well, featuring too much middle-of-the-road rubbish for the kids and too much caterwauling for the grown-ups.
Next came ‘Cool for Cats’ from Associated Rediffusion, followed hot on its heals by ‘Six-Five Special’ from the BBC. ‘Six-Five’ did hit the zeitgeist, attracting both mutually exclusive audiences to sit down together… but this was because the BBC sent the programme rapidly down the ‘variety and filmed inserts’ path of least resistance.
The first true family pop show would have to be made by ITV. But who? A-R could not help but produce programming that was either cheap or very worthy (and both if possible).
ATV knew how to do trashy variety better than anybody, but pop was something that should happen during a show, not as a show in Lew’s book.
Granada had yet to discover the hotbed of talent in the city next door to Manchester (indeed, it frequently seemed to actually forget the city of Liverpool entirely) and took a higher cultural tone with its gritty northern realism self-imposed mandate.
ABC was a company looking for a niche - and pop music could be it. The company could be young and hip - it had already started hiring some of the youngest staff in the business, people who didn’t know what couldn’t be done on TV. Those people were the ones to make great pop TV.
The result was ‘Oh Boy!’, a madcap live show where one song moved smoothly into another, where top recording artists sang together and separately, where older tunes mixed with the hit parade freely. The frenetic pace and high energy output suited the teens down to the ground. The real talent, occasional known older pieces and the sense of fun attracted the adults.
Both sets sat down and enjoyed a happy hour in front of the telly - and in front of ABC’s adverts.
