Ready Steady Go Documentary


Fascinating documentary on BBC4 about legendary music programme Ready Steady Go, which aired between 1963 and 1966.  When I first got into music, and all things modernist, it was up there as a key influence.  I liked its catchphrase “the weekend starts here”, announcing a show featuring great music to be watched by a generation of soul stylists before heading for The Scene or The Flamingo.  It was referenced in the clip in Quadrophenia where Jimmy watches the show in his wet “shrink-to-fit” Levis, much to the disdain of his parents.  It was also celebrated by Generation X in their 1977 single “Ready Steady Go”, complete with hookline “because I’m in love with Cathy McGowan”.   

The show was produced by Rediffusion’s Head of Entertainment Elkan Allan, directed and produced by Vicki Wickham and Michael Lindsay Hogg (who also interestingly directed some episodes of Brideshead Revisited) amongst others.  The documentary featured fascinating contributions from Wickham and Hogg, including the reminiscence from the latter that, following a show dedicated a certain legendary singer “James Brown said I have soul”.  I agree with the sentiments he expressed.    That was an accolade to outstrip the majority out there.

The documentary reflected the anarchic edge to Ready Steady Go, some of which was arrived at by accident.  The first studio used was small, so much so that, by necessity, there was no separation between audience and artist.  The result was that the performers used a variety of small stages and the audience mingled freely.  The effect visually was to give the show a unique, authentic quality.  Other shows may have tried to replicate it but the effect was never as natural as on the original. 

The show really was a unique coming together of a small number of visionaries, who appreciated the potential of the times they were living through and made the most of it; the British R&B boom bands, the emergence of Motown and Stax and influences from the west coast.  The ethos of the show was in touch with what was happening on the street, from recruiting archetypal mod Cathy McGowan as presenter to visiting the clubs the young mods visited to pick the show’s dancers. 

The documentary included all sorts of anecdotes, such as the initial Tamla Motown tour of Britain playing to empty houses, and Georgie Fame being added to the bill to increase ticket sales. It’s a shame so much of the footage has been wiped.  I would have loved to have seen clips of Small Faces, The Creation and The Action, to name but three, who were key bands of the period and whose legacy has stood the test of time. 

But there were plenty of great clips in both the documentary itself and the “best of” show that followed.  Dusty Springfield and Chris Farlowe were regulars on the show.  I loved the footage of The Rolling Stones and perhaps the most menacing performance of Paint It Black I’ve seen, where the lights were turned off intermittently.  The idea was Lindsay Hogg’s, as was Pete Townshend putting a camera on the machine head of his guitar, with which he would strike Keith Moon’s cymbals from time to time during Anyway Anyhow Anywhere (the one in the clip in Quadrophenia), giving the effect of the screen shaking.  It worked perfectly.  

All in all, an interesting night’s viewing.  It was a ground breaking show which should have continued past 1966.  Sadly, there were other shows that had come afterwards, that were doing a similar thing, and it couldn’t compete.  But the original’s still the greatest, as this documentary makes clear.  We need a new Ready Steady Go to showcase the underground talent that is out there today.  We really do.