Huw Stephens

’You never knew what you were going to be confronted with when you went on Later…’ Nick Cave‘Later… is a voyage of discovery for us as well as the viewers’ Dave GrohlDave Grohl and Alicia Keys loved it, Björk treasured it, Ed Sheeran’s life was changed by it, Kano felt at home while Nick Cave was horrified but inspired, and they all kept coming back. This first-hand account of the BBC’s Later… with Jools Holland takes you behind the scenes of one of the world’s great musical meeting places. Legends including Sir Paul McCartney, Mary J. Blige and David Bowie found a regular welcome, alongside the next generation of superstars including Adele, Ed Sheeran and Amy Winehouse. Part of what has made the show so special is the format – all those bands, singers, stars and newbies brought together to listen as well as to perform in Jools’ circle of dreams. But there’s always been plenty of mayhem alongside the magic of convening a room full of musicians hosted by one of their own. Written by the show’s co-creator and 26-year showrunner, music journalist Mark Cooper, this is the story of how Later… grew into a musical and TV institution. It was Mark who had to explain to Jay-Z why he couldn’t just do his numbers and split, who told Seasick Steve why he had to play ‘Dog House Boogie’ on the Hootenanny and persuaded Johnny Cash that he simply had to come in, even when The Man in Black wasn’t feeling well. From Stormzy to Björk, from Smokey Robinson to Norah Jones, from Britpop to trip hop, here is the word on how Later… began, evolved and has endured, accompanied by exclusive interviews with some of the show’s regular stars as well as the unique pictorial record of Andre Csillag who photographed the show for over 20 years. A must-read for music fans everywhere, Later… with Jools Hollandpulls back the curtain on classic performances to reveal that the show is just as magical, if even more chaotic, than you imagined.

“Nabil traces the image of his father through song. With growing fascination and heartbreak, he draws out meaning from the shadow of absence, and ultimately redefines what it means to be a family.” - Michelle Zauner, New York Times bestselling author of Crying in H Mart and Grammy nominated musician Japanese Breakfast A memoir about one man's journey to connect with his musician father, ultimately re-drawing the lines that define family and race. Throughout his adult life, whether he was opening a Seattle record store in the '90s or touring the world as the only non-white band member in alternative rock bands, Nabil Ayers felt the shadow and legacy of his father's musical genius, and his race, everywhere. In 1971, a white, Jewish, former ballerina, chose to have a child with the famous Black jazz musician Roy Ayers, fully expecting and agreeing that he would not be involved in the child's life. In this highly original memoir, their son, Nabil Ayers, recounts a life spent living with the aftermath of that decision, and his journey to build an identity of his own despite and in spite of his father’s absence. Growing up, Nabil only meets his father a handful of times. But Roy’s influence is strong, showing itself in Nabil’s instinctual love of music, and later, in the music industry—Nabil’s chosen career path. By turns hopeful--wanting to connect with the man who passed down his genetic predisposition for musical talent—and frustrated with Roy’s continued emotional distance, Nabil struggles with how much DNA can define a family… and a person. Unable to fully connect with Roy, Nabil ultimately discovers the existence of several half-siblings as well as a paternal ancestor who was enslaved. Following these connections, Nabil meets and befriends the descendant of the plantation owner, which, strangely, paves the way for him to make meaningful connections with extended family he never knew existed. Undeterred by his father's absence, Nabil, through sheer will and a drive to understand his roots, re-draws the lines that define family and race.

'Too often we treat popular music as wallpaper surrounding us as we live our lives. Jude Rogers shows the emotional and cerebral heft such music can have. It's a personal journey which becomes universal. Fascinating' Ian Rankin 'Moving and absorbing, The Sound of Being Human mixes memoir, analysis, anecdote and personal chronicle into a mosaic that evokes what music means to the individual and the human tribe. A candid, beautiful read' Stuart Maconie The Sound of Being Human explores why music plays such a deep-rooted role in our lives from before we are born to our last days. At its heart is Jude's own story: how songs helped her wrestle with the grief of losing her father; concoct her own sense of self; sky-rocket her relationships, both real and imagined, propel her own journey into working life, adulthood and parenthood, and look to the future. Shaped around twelve songs, ranging from ABBA's 'Super Trouper' to Neneh Cherry's 'Buffalo Stance', Kraftwerk's 'Radioactivity' to Martha Reeves and the Vandellas' 'Heat Wave', the book combines memoir and historical, scientific and cultural enquiry to show how music can shape different versions of ourselves; how we rely upon music for comfort, for epiphanies, and for sexual and physical connection; how we grow with songs, and songs grow inside us. It is about music's power to help us tell our own stories, whatever they are, and make them sing.

It's thirty seconds to air. The interviewee has walked off in a huff. The next guest hasn't arrived. There's a wall of riot police behind me. The cameraman only speaks Hungarian and has cut my head out of the shot, but I don't know his word for "wide angle." Then comes the quiet. Utter silence in my head. We've just lost comms with the whole team back in London. I can choose to scream. Or to surrender to the moment. Then, a hand is waved at me as a visual cue. And I start talking. The things that are said on camera are only part of the story. Behind every interview there's more. How the story came about. How it ended. The compromises that were made. The regrets, the rows, the deeply inappropriate comedy. Making news is an essential but imperfect art. It rarely goes according to plan. Emily Maitlis never expected to find herself wandering around the Maharani of Jaipur's bedroom with Bill Clinton or get invited to the Miss USA beauty pageant by its owner, Donald Trump. She never expected to be thrown into a provincial Cuban jail, to drink red wine at Steve Bannon's kitchen table, or spend three hours in a lift with Alan Partridge. She certainly didn't expect the Dalai Lama to tell her the story of his most memorable poo. The beauty of television is its ability to simplify, but that's also its weakness: it can distill everything down to one snapshot, one soundbite. Then the news cycle moves on. Airhead is Maitlis' step back from the white noise. Before and after the camera started rolling, this is what really happened.