Once upon a time it was practically de rigueur for aspiring broadcasters to adopt a mid-Atlantic accent, with many a radio DJ especially affecting a languid cod-American drawl. After years of merciless parodying, however, today’s media-savvy presenters wouldn’t dream of talking in such an artificial way. Take Anton Savage. Not for him anything as cliched as a mid-Atlantic twang. Instead he opts for a Mitteleuropa accent.
One of the distinctive features of The Anton Savage Show (Today FM, weekdays) is the prize for his daily quiz, a pair of Sennheiser headphones – or, more precisely, his pronunciation of the prize, which he carefully enunciates as "Zennheiser". As it's a German brand this is technically correct, but over the months it has also become something of a personal quirk. On Wednesday's show, however, Savage goes one better, giving a perfectly good English word an exaggerated Teutonic spin, when during an item on Irish business success stories he talks about being "obzessed".
If Savage's overdeveloped erudition walks a fine line between being charming and smart-arsed, so too does his on-air persona. Intelligent, articulate and witty, he has all the talent required for a chat-show host. But his instinct for enjoyably flippant items occasionally jars with his need to demonstrate how clever he is, akin to a frothier, funnier and more self-effacing Pat Kenny.
So, during Daniella Moyles’s report on successful Irish enterprises, Savage makes an aside about vintage Sears catalogues offering mail-order houses. It’s diverting trivia, but the host might have been better curbing Moyles’s unbridled promotion of Penneys – the chain’s use of cheap manufacturing in developing countries is quietly elided – and Paddy Power bookmakers, whose relentless promotion of gambling is characterised as the company wanting “to be your friend”.
Savage sounds happier chatting to guests who combine heft and frivolity. Speaking to Mark Tully of Queens University Belfast, who is against the sedentary lifestyle to the point of using a treadmill at his desk, Savage delights in calculating how far his guest has walked during their conversation. "We've chatted together for two and a half football fields," he says, chuckling.
He also enjoys himself talking to Will Brooker, an English academic researching a book on David Bowie by adopting the rock star's outlandish looks from down the years. Savage displays an impressive knowledge of Bowie's career, asking his guest whether he has re-created the star's 1970s cocaine-addled diet or his 1980s perm. At times like this he sounds like he's found his true voice for radio, no matter that he may have misplaced his accent.
Despite his impending retirement from radio and television, George Hook seems even more ubiquitous these days. Not only is he hosting The Right Hook (Newstalk, weekdays) but he's also filling in for Vincent Browne on TV3. Whether this double jobbing is a good thing for his radio audience is another matter.
On Tuesday Hook sounds tired, his opening spiel punctuated with pauses, stumbles and gaps. He wonders aloud who won the Rose of Tralee, when the pageant's deciding stage is yet to be aired, then trumpets the excuse of "working late on TV3" when corrected. On Wednesday his command of facts seems shaky. Talking to a technology journalist, Niall Kitson, about the hacking of the infidelity dating website Ashley Madison, Hook hears that the names of 33 million users have been leaked online. "Is that in the UK or worldwide?" asks Hook, clearly contemplating astonishing levels of adultery among Britain's 60 million people.
He later has a curious exchange with the rugby star Gordon D’Arcy, when he asks the new dad about providing for his daughter. On cue, D’Arcy talks about changing perspectives and making the “mature decision” to take out life insurance. Fair enough, but D’Arcy then plugs one insurance provider by name, saying how quick and easy the process was. Hook plays along, even name-checking the firm himself. For a presenter whose contrariness remains his biggest strength, it’s a disappointingly supine performance.
Elizabeth Arnett of Irish Water may have wished for such an easy reception during her appearance on Morning Ireland (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays). Instead its presenter Cathal Mac Coille grills her about Irish Water's decision to contact nonpaying customers. Arnett repeatedly emphasises, in soothing tones , that this is a normal process for any utility company, but her host is having none of it. He asks if Irish Water will contact the large numbers who haven't actually registered. Arnett concedes – eventually – that it can't. When Mac Coille notes that no penalties are threatened, Arnett blandly talks about building relationships with customers. And when quizzed if there has been an increase in the 46 per cent of registered users who have actually paid, Arnett talks vaguely about "customer cycles".
It’s a farcical appearance. That an entity as contentious as Irish Water is habitually represented by a spokeswoman who talks in insipid corporate babble, rather than by one of the senior executives who run it, underlines how abnormal – and cowardly – a utility it is. It is, as some might say, a zad and zorry zituation.
Moment of the Week: Johnny Lyons's death
Irish radio lost one of its most appealing and original figures this week, with the shockingly sudden death of the inimitable Johnny Lyons, sports editor of 98FM and host of the Dublin station's Now That's What I Call Sport each Sunday. Exuberant and engaging both on air and off, Lyons's knowledge of sport, especially soccer, was matched only by his affection for hard rock. He is sadly missed by listeners, colleagues and friends alike, whose thoughts are with his family.
radioreview@irishtimes.com
