Tonight, as I write this, BBC2 is screening a biography of Jools Holland: presenter, pianist and default guardian of popular music on BBC TV. This doesn't really surprise me. The BBC has been scattering projects and plaudits before the erstwhile Squeeze geezer for a couple of decades now. The thing is, I don't really know why.
I should say that I have never met Jools Holland and have no reason to think he is anything other than a lovely chap who is kind to small animals. But as broadcast professional, I take him to be the luckiest man in the business, because he is largely hopeless.
As I have no great affection for televised fireworks, I spent New Year's Eve in the company of Jools Holland's Annual Hootenanny - an extended version of the Later show with added tinsel and a giant clock. There were some tremendous performances from a genuinely eclectic selection of artists; Bobby Womack being particularly spine-tingling. Unfortunately, and for no discernable reason, there was also a disproportionate slab of Jools Holland's Rhythm & Blues Orchestra. Much like their leader, this band has been ploughing a very narrow furrow for many years, operating under the assumption that a vaguely popular formula is far more useful than creative imagination. With a stock of almost endless, mundane reggae-lite cover versions, they're the perfect outfit for gig-goers who like their music reassuringly and predictably tame. The only explanation I can produce for their domination of the show is the fact their boss anchors the thing. Nice work if you can get it.
This would be understandable, if not quite forgivable, were Jools anything approaching a compelling presenter. But, bizarrely, in nearly thirty years on telly and radio he still seems completely out of his depth and woefully ill-prepared. As an interviewer, Holland is one of the worst available. Which is a shame, because the Beeb arrange for him to meet some of the most impressive names in music. From David Gilmore to Tony Bennett, Jools has broken bread with the very biggest and very best. To my knowledge, he has never managed to extract even the most perfunctory anecdote or intriguing comment from any one of them. Taking the 'You have a wonderful new record out don't you?' tack, and following up with 'What was it like doing all those big shows back in the day?' - the interviewee is often visibly embarrassed.
I once heard Holland trail a guest on his Radio 2 show. He announced, in that faltering, Yoda-ish delivery, that the artist was from New York and part of a burgeoning underground scene, filling the clubs of the Big Apple. A split second before the end of the link, he back-tracked clumsily in an attempt to correct New York to New Orleans. He then got her name wrong. This is not untypical.
Then there's the piano playing. Years ago, members of psych-rockers Hawkwind would complain bitterly when the band's saxophonist, Nik Turner, would honk his free-jazz horn over everything they played. I often wonder whether guests on Later feel the same when Jools joins them on the keys. I'm no expert but Mr. Holland gives the impression he's a competent musician. However, he also appears to be so enamoured of that lame boogie-woogie shtick that he just bangs away, regardless of its suitability.
Much of the blame for this must be placed at the door of the BBC. Television coverage of contemporary music - something we do better than any country in the world - has been in pathetic shape for over a decade and a half. That the sole programme dedicated to this most important and popular art form is relegated to a late slot on BBC2 is a disgrace, aligning the glory of rock and roll with Crown Green Bowls and the skiing forecast. Presumably, our national broadcaster sees live music as such an irrelevance, it is content for its spokesperson and ambassador to be a figure as vain and fumbling as Holland.
I was pondering the mystery of Jools' status on Twitter as the Hootenanny went out. A parishioner put it to me that Holland was never chosen for his ability, he just happened to reach the front of the queue when the vacancy came up.
There's probably a lot of truth in that.
This would be understandable, if not quite forgivable, were Jools anything approaching a compelling presenter. But, bizarrely, in nearly thirty years on telly and radio he still seems completely out of his depth and woefully ill-prepared. As an interviewer, Holland is one of the worst available. Which is a shame, because the Beeb arrange for him to meet some of the most impressive names in music. From David Gilmore to Tony Bennett, Jools has broken bread with the very biggest and very best. To my knowledge, he has never managed to extract even the most perfunctory anecdote or intriguing comment from any one of them. Taking the 'You have a wonderful new record out don't you?' tack, and following up with 'What was it like doing all those big shows back in the day?' - the interviewee is often visibly embarrassed.
I once heard Holland trail a guest on his Radio 2 show. He announced, in that faltering, Yoda-ish delivery, that the artist was from New York and part of a burgeoning underground scene, filling the clubs of the Big Apple. A split second before the end of the link, he back-tracked clumsily in an attempt to correct New York to New Orleans. He then got her name wrong. This is not untypical.
Then there's the piano playing. Years ago, members of psych-rockers Hawkwind would complain bitterly when the band's saxophonist, Nik Turner, would honk his free-jazz horn over everything they played. I often wonder whether guests on Later feel the same when Jools joins them on the keys. I'm no expert but Mr. Holland gives the impression he's a competent musician. However, he also appears to be so enamoured of that lame boogie-woogie shtick that he just bangs away, regardless of its suitability.
Much of the blame for this must be placed at the door of the BBC. Television coverage of contemporary music - something we do better than any country in the world - has been in pathetic shape for over a decade and a half. That the sole programme dedicated to this most important and popular art form is relegated to a late slot on BBC2 is a disgrace, aligning the glory of rock and roll with Crown Green Bowls and the skiing forecast. Presumably, our national broadcaster sees live music as such an irrelevance, it is content for its spokesperson and ambassador to be a figure as vain and fumbling as Holland.
I was pondering the mystery of Jools' status on Twitter as the Hootenanny went out. A parishioner put it to me that Holland was never chosen for his ability, he just happened to reach the front of the queue when the vacancy came up.
There's probably a lot of truth in that.
