The news that Dave Fanning is leaving 2FM doesn’t draw the curtain on his broadcasting career, but it does herald the end of an era. The veteran DJ may have a forthcoming podcast, a television series on Virgin Media and a new berth on RTÉ Gold to keep him busy, but, with his decision to “step back” from his weekend show on the station he joined 44 years ago, 2FM has lost the last of its original line-up. Fanning may not have left the building – he will continue to present bank-holiday shows on 2FM – but there’s a definite sense of departing his spiritual home.
Fanning himself used the latter phrase to describe his relationship with the station when he returned there in 2009, after a brief stint on RTÉ Radio 1. His strong bond is understandable. Though the 66-year-old has hosted a swathe of television shows, as well as many other radio and journalism gigs – he wrote for The Irish Times in the 1980s – the late-night rock show he presented from 1979 was the launch pad for his career, as well as being the proving ground for many acts, most notably U2.
Delivered in his distinctive (and occasionally distracting) rapid-fire diction, Fanning’s radio programme underwent many iterations down the years, moving from its original midnight slot to earlier in the evening before its final incarnation at weekends. But it remained the place where he sounded most comfortable, holding court on music, movies and all things pop cultural. Still, the time is probably right for Fanning to exit 2FM for RTÉ Gold, the Elysian Fields for jocks of a certain vintage. For all his enduring on-air energy, however, his glory days as an influential tastemaker had long receded.
Born in Dublin, the youngest of six children – his late older brother Gerard was an acclaimed poet – the music-obsessed Fanning got his start in the burgeoning pirate-radio scene of the 1970s on stations such as Radio Dublin and Big D. But his big break came when he was recruited for the freshly minted RTÉ Radio 2. Fanning’s late-night show introduced him, and the music he championed, to a nationwide audience previously starved of such specialist sounds.
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These early days coincided with the emergence of U2: Fanning held a listeners’ poll to decide the A-side of the fledgling Dublin band’s debut single, Out of Control. It was a relationship that helped cement Fanning’s reputation as a kingmaking DJ, with the group continuing to premiere new material on his programme even as they became global stars.
But Fanning’s success rested on more than his friendship with Bono et al. In the predigital age his nocturnal show was an invaluable oasis of new releases and obscure oldies for adventurous music fans in Ireland, particularly outside the cities. This writer fondly remembers the anticipation prompted by the opening chords of Fanning’s theme tune of Another Girl, Another Planet, by The Only Ones (later replaced by the equally stirring Oh Well by Fleetwood Mac). His annual Fab 50, as voted by listeners, further solidified his connection with his audience.
Fanning actively promoted home-grown rock and indie acts at a time when such music existed only on the margins. With studio time and radio play at a premium in the 1980s, his “Fanning Sessions” – demos recorded specially for the show – provided both experience and exposure for Irish acts. Thanks to this, he was often compared to the legendary BBC DJ John Peel, though Fanning’s tastes were far more conventional: firmly rooted in the guitar idiom, he was wary of hip hop and electronic dance music.
Fanning loved music, but he also enjoyed the sound of his own voice. Never shy of proffering his views, his spiel seemed to become more pronounced down the years. When interviewing musicians or actors, he could pile questions on top of each other, before guests had the chance to answer even one. If anything, Fanning appeared to revel in his reputation as an inveterate chatterbox, even appearing as an animated character in a Telecom Éireann ad.
As other avenues for new music opened in the 1990s, Fanning’s influence on the ground was less evident. He broadened his remit to cover movies, while his broadcasting profile expanded to include television shows. In the process he transformed himself from cult radio DJ to mainstream, if slightly eccentric, broadcaster, a reinvention capped by the publication of his 2010 autobiography, The Thing Is.
Over the past decade, however, Fanning appeared increasingly out of step with the new landscape at 2FM, as the station chased younger listeners with edgy stars and a shiny contemporary playlist. He may have been the last of the 1979 alumni, but the fact that his final 2FM weekend shows were broadcast without fanfare two weeks ago seems symptomatic of how much his beloved station has changed. Still, Fanning may be better off in the more simpatico environs of RTÉ Gold and the podcast arena. On his penultimate show, he remembered how at school, “if you saw someone with an album that was crap, you’d immediately say that person is crap”. Given 2FM’s penchant for blaring Auto-Tuned pop, Fanning is probably happier out of there.
