No ordinary (Adam and) Joe

Pride of place in any 1990s time capsule ought to be two black T-shirts, one with the word ‘Ad’ printed in large white letters on its front, the other with the word ‘Joe’.

The Adam and Joe Show (1996-2001) was Channel 4. It summed up everything that was great about having a fourth button on your telly and, since its departure, everything that could be great if… well, if only certain men in suits cast aside their Big Brother advertising revenue spreadsheets and remembered the value of two blokes with a video camera and a googolplex of imagination.

I loved it. I felt like the programme was being made just for me - which, if you’ve ever felt the same way about anything, you’ll know is one of the most thrilling sensations in the world.

The antics of Messrs Buxton and Cornish were so damn funny. They were the double act you and your best mate always wanted to be. And being shoved in the ‘awkward corner’ of C4’s schedules, well, that just made them even more hip and fashionably ignored.

Every student in-joke turns stale over time. But Adam and Joe seem to have managed to grow up on their own terms. Anyone who listens to their Saturday morning show on BBC 6 Music, which started last autumn, will know the magic is still there. It’s just, well, a bit more grown-up.

And thank heavens. Because - if I’m being really honest - I’d hate them to still be trying to do the same schtick as 12 years ago, pretending they (and me) were still in our twenties.

Instead, they’re niftily tiptoeing their way around 6 Music’s daft playlist while doing stuff like Text The Nation (appeals for listener suggestions on topics such as new names for shops and potential James Bond villains) and Song Wars, self-penned ditties about meatballs, public transport and Kate Nash, an album of which has just been released on iTunes.

The former recently produced what I’m claiming will prove to be the funniest radio moment of 2008: a discussion about a listener’s self-penned childhood comic, STEPHEN!, that overwhelmed both presenters and, I’d wager, the unjustly-tiny portion of the country tuned in, with a torrent of giggles.

To have comedy heroes once in a lifetime is privilege enough. To rediscover they’re heroes all over again a decade later is about as good as it gets.

Ian Jones edits the Digi-Cream Times blog