It all began with Dave Fanning on Big D; and while he may have long been the sole outpost of quality music radio, now it's all over the gaff. Perhaps the biggest success story of the new breed of broadcast DJs is Tom Dunne, whose Pet Sounds show on Today FM (Monday to Thursday, 7 p.m.-10 p.m.) has more than doubled its listening figures in the past year and recently added an extra hour to its running time. We invited ourselves in to the show's glamorous Abbey Street studio for a poke around.
Lots of buttons, loads of them, all over the place. What do they all do? "I don't know," says Dunne, as he swivels in his chair, does a station identification thing and reaches for a new CD. "It's all done by computers, I wouldn't worry about it," he says with the air of someone playing records at home as opposed to live on a national radio station. He's equally succint about the show's running order: "the first 25 minutes is music, then I do a gig guide, then play something classically beautiful. After the news, it's three in a row, then usually an interview and that's more or less it," he says, twirling a button around and giving his headphones a baleful look. There's perhaps more to it than that. Dunne's show has a casual informality (which only comes from really knowing what you're doing) and his understated broadcasting style jollies things along nicely. "I don't even like to call myself a DJ," he says. "It sounds like you have a moustache and a jumper tied around your shoulder . . ."
A recovering rock musician - "I'm in a band that forgot to break up" - Dunne took over the time-slot 18 months ago from John Kelly, whose Eclectic Ball- room show had 24,000 listeners. Pet Sounds now has 52,000 listeners. He puts on his modest voice: "It really helps that we are following a hugely popular show in The Last Word, which has something like 150,000 listeners. So I'm trying to mix out of that show and into Donal Dineen's Here Comes The Night, which follows me."
Perhaps the reason for loading on so many new listeners is that Dunne refuses to pander either to the playlist or to genre tastes. "It's actually in my contract that I don't have to adhere to the playlist. At the other end of things I will play indie/ cult/obscure music; but I don't believe in that reverse snobbery of `if it's commercially successful you can't play it'." Which is why you'll hear Donna Summer next to The Flaming Lips and Orbital next to Hank Williams.
"The best example of this was when I played the All Saints record Hidden Shores and there were actually phone calls to the show saying I shouldn't be playing that sort of pop music. Maybe it's not as `cool' as some of the other stuff I play, but I think it's a really good song. There's no point playing to a narrow audience, and anyway you just don't know how certain songs or acts will eventually settle down - when Moby's album first came out, only a few people played it. Now it's all over the place."
Proudly saying he has no producer, although admitting that the show wouldn't happen without his colleague Jedda Downey, the only sort of format he imposes on Pet Sounds is an "American Music Club" on Mondays (news, charts and tunes from across the Atlantic), and a "Mostly Irish" section on Tuesdays, along with his regular personalised Top Three charts.
As he flings a few more CDs around and wonders anxiously about his question for a Bob Dylan competion being too easy ("I asked people what his real name is - I couldn't think of anything better"), Donal Dineen drops in to say hello before his own show begins. When he leaves, Dunne whispers "Donal is the purest DJ. He doesn't do competitions, he doesn't do interviews and he only plays records if he wants to play them. Awesome."
Two things Tom Dunne might not want you to know about Pet Sounds: he has a TV in the studio so he won't miss any of those Vodafone muppets (aka Manchester United) live games and if ever you hear Brass In Pocket by The Pretenders or Take The Weather With You by Crowded House, it's because something has gone disastrously wrong in the studio - he has the two tracks on permanent standby. A third thing: he's better at what he does than he thinks.
