“EVERYTHING WAS BIZARRE AT THAT TIME. BUT IT WAS VERY EXCITING.” JANUARY 1978. I WAS 18, SHE WAS 19. OUR EYES MET IN A CRAMPED, yeasty-smelling record library in Osterley, west London.
“Look,” I said, handing her a thick stack of postcards requesting that her debut single be played on UBN, the only British radio station ever to broadcast exclusively to biscuit factories, where I’d landed my first music biz gig as junior DJ and playlist compiler. “All these are for your song.”
“Wow,” she said, leafing through the requests from Manchester, Liverpool, glasgow and London, people packing custard creams, Jammie Dodgers and Penguins, people working in mailrooms and offices, each of them wanting to hear Wuthering Heights, which, ignoring the record label’s official February 1978 release date, United Biscuits…
