Its Grim(shaw) up North. And down South for that matter.

We'll open with something fairly indisputable: Colin Murray is leaving Radio 1 after making the most successful late evening shows since Mark & Lard were broadcasting in the slot over a decade ago. The playlists on Murray's show, along with his entertaining banter have been a highlight of evening broadcasting over the past two or three years, a welcome change from the usual tosh of "late night love", simulcasted commercial radio and the more esoteric end of the Radio 2 spectrum. It really comes across that Murray loves the music he plays and i don't think the show will quite be the same when he leaves.

Five Live's gain will certainly be Radio 1's loss. What is particularly sad is that Murray's replacement is an egocentric fashionista "it boy" who has greased his way from being a tea boy and street shouter for a Manchester ILR to apparently being first choice for any free airtime on Radio 1. Having made Weekend Breakfast unlistenable, he is now moving on to late evening Mon-Thur to make that impossible to comprehend by anybody over the age of twelve. Apparently, Grimshaw's biggest claim to fame is that he's had an argument with The Ting Tings. Bless.

Its not as if all younger DJs on the station are patently awful - Greg James is somewhat erratic on air, but is generally improving. Grimshaw just sounds like a Nathan Barley character whose presence is only there to irritate those outside of his circle of celeb mates.

Of course, there is likely to be yet another shuffle of weekends to accompany this as it has been confirmed he will be relinquishing his reign of terror over weekend breakfast, but with Radio 1 facing another DLT & Simon Bates moment, it makes me wonder who on earth they're going to drag up to replace him.

Sara Cox is an expensive liability for the station whom Andy Parfitt (head of R1) thinks needs more airtime to justify her presence, but the Sunday morning Lie-In show has been dire since she took over. She's just too shouty and tedious for the slot, quite unlike the affable duo she succeeded (see the Good Radio entry below).

Annie Mac may get more work as a result of being friends with Grimshaw, but we've really got to hope not - the Friday night "Mash-Up" show is an embarassment. If it was really all about "MASHIN' DA MUSIC UP" as we're shouted at in every trail and ident, we'd hear some dubstep, followed by Vivaldi, neatly segued into Falco.

Ultimately, the problem as i see it is that Andy Parfitt has no idea of what to do with weekends. Nihal (who is highly erratic but occasionally brilliant) keeps getting bounced around the weekend schedule, as do the trite airfluff pairing of Fearne Cotton and Reggie Yeates and it'll probably happen again in May but lets just pray that this time we finally get somebody worthwhile for weekend breakfast.

Rise of the bland

It is a truth universally acknowledged that we live in an age where the vacant and colourless will triumph massively over anything that might upset somebody. That is why Coldplay are so famous. But now, just in case you find Miley Cyrus a bit too edgy for your liking, there is a new act making records so bland that you'd be better off cutting discs of wallpaper out and putting them in your CD player (or on to your record deck if you're hardcore)*.

Ladies and Gentlemen, today's "what the chuff" moment on the radio was at the playing of "Love Story" by Taylor Swift. Imagine all the blandest, most tedious warblings of every bad AOR album track of the past twenty years being condensed down into one vile little turd pellet. Imagine the likes of the BBC local radio playlist for inane records electing a president. Imagine... actually, don't because this is one of the worst records ever.

The first rule when this song comes on the radio is to turn it off. If that isn't possible, then whatever you do, don't try and listen to the lyrics of the verses. There are already hospital wards filling up with comatose patients and the NHS can't take any more. Next, try to find something to bite on before you hear the "You be the prince and i'll be the princess" refrain which gets repeated often enough to apparently be the chorus, although the whole song mushes into one horrible puddle, so its impossible to be sure. And of course, always have your sick bucket on standby throughout.

I think what irritates me the most is that i expect America to be taken in by this shit, but it normally crashes and burns without a trace in the UK - see our refusal to accept Hootie and the Blowfish and a myriad of other tedious daytime radio acts if you don't believe me. Why is this suddenly flavour of the month in the UK? Who is buying it? Are there really some people who took their Coldplay CD back to Tesco** and asked for a refund because it was a bit racey?

Great Britain is quite capable of making its own inane, pissweak pop. We don't need to import it.

* - I know. They'll have bought it off ShI-Tunes and have it on their overpriced fashion victim wankpod.
** - Yes, Tesco. Nobody has ever bought any of the last three Coldplay albums from a proper record shop.