The power of radio

That is that, the end

Funny business, journalism. There is a lot of one-way “broadcasting”, even in print journalism. In fact especially in print journalism, oddly. It’s you firing out your news, your scoops, your opinions. Bash out your copy, let the presses/pixels roll. While the readers digest it, you move on, rarely stopping to consider what they might think/feel about it.

And then in 2016 I started writing an email. I wasn’t even sure it was a job. From machine-gunning out as many as a dozen stories a day as political editor of MailOnline, suddenly my job was just writing a single daily email. Specifically the Times Red Box political newsletter, getting up at 5am to make sense of the news in my pyjamas. And what a lot of news - EU referendum, Cameron, May, Johnson, Corbyn, Covid.

And the thing about an email, which you’ll know if you’re reading this as an email, is it’s strangely personal. Here I am nestling between that urgent email from your boss, and the order confirmation for a new swimming costume. I’m part of the fabric of daily life in a way a paper or homepage doesn’t quite manage.

Over four years I built a weirdly intimate relationship with the readers. Writing on the big news days. And the no news days. When I was happy, sad, hungover, with a direct digital line to my audience. Glorious.

And then in June 2020 when I moved to help launch Times Radio, the same thing happened, but on steroids. That listener connection is pure magic.

Not least because Covid still hung in the air, and for many people the radio, and whatever it was I was waffling on about, was much-needed company, information, and humour. In the last few weeks, the emails and messages I’ve had which involved some awful personal trauma, and how my larking about on the wireless helped them through it, have left me equally bemused and choked.

I can’t begin to sum up four years on Times Radio: Tony Blair, David Cameron, Liz Truss, Rishi Sunak, Keir Starmer, Angela Rayner, Ed Davey jostling for airtime with Peter Andre, Joe Lycett, Lorraine Kelly, and Zippy from Rainbow, while listeners were getting mayonnaise off their slippers, picking up horsey poo or hoovering their jigsaw tables.

It’s an astonishing thing, to find something you love which you’re apparently good at. I loved newspapers, from the Taunton Times to the actual Times. But Christ I love being on the radio. Live. Spontaneous. Messy.

It’s why my radio heroes are Chris Evans (who was incredibly helpful and supportive before we launched the show in 2020), Chris Moyles, Johnny Vaughan, Sara Cox, Liza Tarbuck, Simon Mayo, Richard Bacon.

Someone once said their dad had told them “One day that Matt Chorley’s going to say something that ends his career”. I’ve never felt like that. But I’m glad he does. It’s why radio is different to, and for me has an edge over, podcasts. Because it’s live. It’s happening right now. And anything could happen, because it hasn’t happened yet. And what we can change what was going to happen right now. This second.

But I know what is happening today: it’s my last show on Times Radio. Then I’ve got a few weeks off to rest/panic before the new show launches on BBC Radio 5 Live on Monday 2 September. Where better to be live on the radio than the home of live news and sport? That I’m taking over the old Mayo/Bacon afternoon show is very special.

For those who’ve asked, the show will be much the same. Not the structure or features necessarily, but the vibe. It’s still me treating politics as a serious business, but not taking myself too seriously, trying to make it more accessible, interesting and entertaining. More on that nearer the time.

Before that, the goodbyes. A last hurrah on the radio from 10am-1pm and then a boozey afternoon with my brilliant team - Andrew, Lewis, Erin, Kea, Tom and Ryan. Steak dinner, crazy golf, funk band.

It will be spontaneous. Funny. Emotional. Messy. Possibly even a bit sweary. Like all the best radio.