Interview: Billy Butler
The voice that became part of Merseyside’s family
Some people become so woven into the fabric of a city that you can’t quite remember a time before they were there.
Billy Butler is one of them.
Growing up, Billy’s voice was part of our family. It drifted through the house on the radio, accompanied us on car journeys and, on sunny afternoons, could usually be heard from someone’s garden. Sunday mornings belonged to Billy and Wally Scott. Hold Your Plums wasn’t simply a radio feature; it became part of Liverpool life.
Years later, life came full circle.
As owner of The Buz Magazine, I became a regular stand-in for Lyn Staunton on Billy’s show, joining him and the lovely Bobby Sox for Stars in Their Ears. Sitting opposite someone you’d listened to all your life is a slightly surreal experience.
What struck me most wasn’t the broadcaster.
It was the man.
Billy has an infectious enthusiasm for music, especially local music. He’s endlessly generous with his time, fiercely proud of Liverpool and never misses an opportunity to tell people how much he loves his wife, Lesley. Over the years, he’s helped countless people, including both me and my daughter, Jade.
I’m delighted he’s back where he belongs.
Behind a microphone.
Billy, for the benefit of anyone who’s somehow managed to avoid you all these years, tell us a little about the journey so far.
He laughs.
“Where do I start?”
Over the years Billy has worn more hats than most people could fit into a wardrobe.
Singer with The Merseybeats.
DJ at The Cavern during the height of Merseybeat.
Club DJ.
Television presenter.
Radio broadcaster.
Producer.
Manager.
His career has taken him from Thank Your Lucky Stars to Wacker’s World, from BBC Radio Merseyside to Radio City, from local clubs to national radio.
It’s quite a list.
He shrugs.
“I’ve just been lucky enough to do what I’ve always loved.”
When you left BBC Radio Merseyside, what did you miss the most?
His answer comes without hesitation.
“The communication with the listeners.”
Simple.
Heartfelt.
Exactly what I expected.
Did you listen to much radio after you left?
“I still listened to Radio Merseyside…”
He grins.
“And sometimes to my son Lee on City.”
Then comes the Billy Butler punchline.
“Nothing else impressed me!”
What, for you, makes a great entertainer?
Billy doesn’t talk about fame.
He talks about connection.
“Someone who can keep your interest in lots of different ways.”
His list says everything about the kind of broadcaster he admires.
Kenny Everett.
Spike Milligan.
Graham Norton.
Terry Wogan.
Spencer Leigh.
Rowan Atkinson.
People who entertained simply by being themselves.
You’re known for being a collector. What’s the one possession you’d never part with?
He pauses.
“I’ve bought and sold so many things over the years that it’s hard to choose.”
Then he settles on one.
“Probably my gold disc for Jennifer Rush’s The Power of Love.”
Awarded by CBS in recognition of the part Billy played in breaking the record, it’s clearly something he treasures.
Not because it’s gold.
Because it represents a moment.
When you look back over such a remarkable career, are there one or two moments that stand out above everything else?
There are several.
Being made a Citizen of Honour.
Winning the Liverpool Echo DJ of the Year award.
Creating Hold Your Plums.
Then Billy quietly adds one more.
“Marrying Lesley.”
It’s a lovely answer.
Entirely genuine.
Entirely Billy.
Finally, just for fun… would you rather have scored the winning goal for Everton in an FA Cup Final or had a number one record?
He doesn’t even pretend to think about it.
“Scoring the winning goal for Everton.”
Then he laughs.
“Mind you, I have sung You’ll Never Walk Alone outside Anfield dressed in a Liverpool kit…”
Apparently, he’d lost a bet.
Only Billy Butler could tell that story with a perfectly straight face.
I’ve often thought that radio is an incredibly intimate medium.
The presenter sits in one room.
The listener in another.
Yet somehow, after years of hearing the same voice, it feels as though you know them.
Spending time with Billy confirmed something I’d suspected all along.
The warmth, humour and generosity you hear on the radio isn’t an act.
It’s simply Billy.
And that’s probably why generations of people across Merseyside still feel as though he’s part of the family.