Born in 1957, TV, radio and club DJ Gary Davies started his career at Piccadilly Radio in Manchester, before moving to Radio 1 in 1982. That year, he also became a regular presenter on Top of the Pops. After a Radio 1 reshuffle in 1993, his broadcast career was put on hold. He set up publishing company Good Groove, and discovered the likes of Corinne Bailey Rae. In 2018, Davies returned to the air with his Radio 2 show Sounds of the 80s, which is live every Saturday night. The spin-off tour runs throughout 2024.
This photo is me living my best life: I was a host on Top of the Pops and Radio 1 at the time. The era was all about big hair, big shoulder pads and baggy jackets. My agent didn’t want me to look “high street” when I first went on TV, so he got a friend to create outrageous custom-made outfits for me – ripped T-shirts, tattered tops. After a while, I put my own looks together, so this outfit was all my fault. As for the mullet? Mine was blow-dried. I wouldn’t go anywhere without a hairdryer and my curling tongs.
When I was a kid, I’d watch Top of the Pops at home in Chorlton in Manchester. I’d think: “Oh my God – all the girls are so sexy! It must be the coolest nightclub in town!” All I wanted was to be in the audience. I never imagined that years later I would end up hosting it.
I have my cousins to thank for my passion for music. They were cooler than cool: while everybody else gave me socks and underwear for my birthdays, they bought me the Top 10 singles. They also ran the legendary Manchester nightclub Twisted Wheel, which put on the likes of Wilson Pickett, Junior Walker & the All Stars, Georgie Fame and Rod Stewart. When I was nine, they would sneak me in to watch these phenomenal performances and take me backstage.
By the time I was a teenager, the music bug had gripped me. While I was at college, Twisted Wheel turned into the hottest discotheque, Placemate 7, and I ended up working on the door three nights a week. One night, the DJ didn’t turn up for the soul room. My cousins said: “Who are we gonna get in to play?” I’d never DJed before, but I knew I could do it – and I could.
The segue into radio wasn’t as straightforward. The stations weren’t interested and I got rejected a lot. My dad had always wanted me to be a lawyer or academic, but when I told him I was going to give up on my dreams, he said: “Well you obviously don’t want it enough.” He was right, which annoyed me. So I persisted and eventually got a show on Piccadilly Radio.
I was very sharp growing up, but never the most outgoing person. I’m still not. But when the mic was on, everything felt different. I was so at ease. My first interview was with Cliff Richard. My second was Siouxsie and the Banshees. To this day, that was my hardest interview: they were so cool and didn’t want to speak to me. I had to stop the tape a few times to say: “If you’re not going to answer me, what’s the point?” Then there was Phil Lynott from Thin Lizzy, who had a ferocious-looking exterior, but was one of the loveliest people.
The first time I was on Top of the Pops was 2 December 1982, together with Pat Sharp and Janice Long. We wore our Radio 1 bomber jackets and were announced as the three new DJs at the BBC. I was absolutely terrified. My voice was about three octaves higher than usual and I looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. As a result, the producer and director of the show told my agent: “Gary’s not very good on TV, I don’t think I’m going to use him again.” I was devastated.
Luckily, a few months later he gave me another go. I was a little less afraid, and did more and more shows until I got used to being in front of a camera. Throughout the 1980s, I hosted the show more than any other DJ.
To have my dream job – my own radio show five days a week and the biggest music show on TV – was huge. It was an amazing period of excitement: if I was doing a nightclub gig or a roadshow, there was a certain amount of hysteria, and if I was in a supermarket someone would often turn around and shout my jingle, “Woo Gary Davies”, or ask for an autograph. I was friendly with some of the stars of the era, like Jason Donovan and Deacon Blue. But we didn’t have time to hang out. Everybody was working seven days a week. It was nonstop. There wasn’t much time to be social.
When I left Radio 1, the audience was massive. I had just done a roadshow in Derby with more than 80,000 people, and there would have been more if the roads had not been clogged with cars. I was at my peak. But everybody knows it’s a young person station. At some point I had to go.
I’m not one of those people who likes to live in the past, but the years 1979 to 1994 were some of the best of my life and I was worried that nothing would be as good as that experience. In the 90s, Radio 2 was still quite an “old person station”, and I felt there was nowhere to go apart from a “gold station” [one aimed at an older audience]. I had this fear of being treated like crap as some ageing DJ, and I didn’t want that to happen to me. Instead I decided to DJ as a hobby.
After that I had a 20-year break from radio, when I set up music companies. We used to make all the promotional CDs that were given away in newspapers and on the front of magazines like Q. With digital music on the horizon, I could see the end coming for us, but luckily I also worked in music publishing, signing songwriters, including one of the writers of All Saints’ single Black Coffee. The track went to No 1 in lots of countries. That song saved my company and my life.
Music is a very precarious industry, but I’ve approached it as I do everything in life: if it feels good, go for it. At the moment, one of the things that feels good is my live show, a huge 80s celebration. Everyone gets dressed up in Lycra and slogan T-shirts. Sadly, I don’t have any of the outfits from back in the day. I would have needed another house to store it all.
In my head I still look like I did in the 80s. It’s only when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror that I realise that’s not the case. Lots of men dye their hair, but it’s often done badly. Instead, I thought: “I’ll go grey. This is me.”
I’ve realised getting older is about mental attitude. I don’t feel my age. I keep reasonably fit. But most of all I like to continue to challenge myself. I recently played underground house at a daytime party to 3,000 kids in Zurich. It gave me a real kick to do something that someone my age would not normally do. I’ll never stop pursuing what’s exciting and new.
• This article was amended on 8 January 2024. Gary Davies grew up in Chorlton, not “Chorley” as a previous version said, owing to a transcription error.
