JOHN Cavanagh awoke one day last month to find himself alongside busty

Babewatch belle Pamela Anderson, Coronation Street cult Reg Houldsworth,

and a young blonde woman with no clothes on. He was on Page 3 of the

Sun, the focus of a story which, in tried and tested tabloid fashion,

deployed some of the facts to obscure most of the truth.

Former antiques dealer to rescue Radio 1, said the Sun, aiming a sneer

at the station whose drastic overhaul under new-broom boss Matthew

Bannister -- and its equally drastic loss of listeners -- has made it

one of the Sun's favourite bad-news targets of late.

So who is John Cavanagh, this 30-year-old erstwhile Lovejoy? And how

come he will soon be rocking an entire nation live on Radio 1 for two

hours on Sunday evenings from his Radio Scotland base in Glasgow's Queen

Margaret Drive?

Put at its simplest, John Cavanagh is a wildly enthusiastic and hugely

knowledgeable music fan, exactly like Stewart Cruickshank, the genial

cove who will be producing John's as yet untitled show when Claire

Sturgess's spell at the Rock Show's helm ends on April 23. Indeed, if

there are two more respected figures in the Jock'n'roll continuum, I

have yet to meet them. For the ongoing Radio Scotland success-stories

that are Original Masters and Jump The Q, we salute you, sirrahs.

John's antique-trade past -- he ran a shop called Duophone in

Glasgow's Victorian Village collectors' arcade -- stems entirely from

his love of records. ''At the age of 12 or 13 I'd be going round

auctioneers' sale-rooms buying old record players and big boxes of

singles for #1. It stemmed from being unable to afford all the new

records I wanted, so I'd be searching for obscure punk rock stuff by

Eater, X-Ray Spex, and the Desperate Bicycles . . . as well as shellac

78s by Smiley Lewis. I've always had strange tastes, you see.''

Surely you must have seemed a bit strange, too, as a lone wee chappie

going mano a mano with seasoned traders in auction-rooms, no? And you

must have stood out among your schoolboy chums?

''I was . . . a little unusual. I remember being seven or eight, and

being supposed to like the Osmonds. But I actually preferred a tape I'd

made of a Pete Drummond Radio 1 show called The Sequence, featuring

Frank Zappa's Lumpy Gravy Part 2 . . . I must have played it 35 times a

day.

''When I was even younger, about four, I liked Led Zep and Deep Purple

and Eric Burdon's Monterey. Anyone who has individual or unusual tastes

should be encouraged or we'd all be playing Mariah Carey, God forbid. At

the age of 2[1/2], my first record -- bought for me by my big sister --

was David Garrick's Don't Go Out Into the Rain (You're Going To Melt,

Sugar).

''That's an important record in the history of Radio Caroline,

incidentally, and much prized by pirate radio anoraks. When Caroline

went back on air as Europe's first album station, they didn't actually

have any albums, so they had to trawl the studio floor for whatever had

been left behind . . . and, thus, David Garrick ended up as the first

record they broadcast.''

I told you John was knowledgeable, didn't I? But what of John

Cavanagh's progress to Radio 1? Having begun as a three-year-old

listening intently on headphones to Alan ''Fluff'' Freeman -- apparently

there are family-album shots to prove it -- John joined the Glasgow

Hospital Broadcasting Service in 1987.

''I did request shows, but nevertheless managed to slip in the odd

record by the Colorblind James Experience and Captain Beefheart. In

fact, one of my proudest memories is of segueing from Frank Sinatra's

mellifluous Moonlight On Vermont to Captain Beefheart's somewhat less

mellifluous Moonlight on Vermont. I nearly got shot for that.''

This revelation provokes apopleptic chuckling and coughing from the

aforementioned Cruickshank, newly returned from Radio 1's London HQ

where he has been thrashing out the forthcoming show's policy details.

His amusement is increased by John's next admission.

After a spell on Radio Scotland's Bite The Wax, John worked for Radio

Clyde, broadcasting twice-weekly on douce Clyde 2. ''It wasn't for me to

try to change the style of the station, but I had a go. I remember

playing Syd Barrett's Effervescing Elephant . . . '' Cruickshank slumps

from his seat, convulsed with laughter. Cavanagh continues.

''There was no sourness about my leaving them in order to return to

Radio Scotland -- I think Clyde quite liked me despite being unsure

about some of the tunes I played. And they did tell me at one point that

I was sounding too much like Roger Scott, which I took as a great

compliment. He's one of the greats, along with Fluff, John Peel, Janice

Long, Mark Radcliffe.

''They're all music fans and you can tell; you can hear it in their

voices. When they're on, the radio comes alive with an excitement, with

a love of music. With a lot of DJs, you sense they're on air because

they're in out of the rain. All their performance is saying is: 'Hey,

I'm a DJ! Now where's a TV game show I can host?'

''You have to have integrity, and be honest with yourself. You can't

like absolutely every record you play, but most of the records you play

have to reflect who you are, because you have to be real on air. If

there are programmes you don't have convictions about, you should get

out of them.'' And from what musical sources will John's show's realism

and honesty spring? Over to Stewart Cruickshank. ''The programme will be

a fresh, fast-paced, broad-based, forward-looking rock show, one which

takes its cue from Nirvana rather than Deep Purple. It won't be the sole

preserve of the heavy metal fraternity, as it has been so far. Quality

is the word.

''We'll play stuff by the Black Crowes, but we'll play Weezer, too.

There'll be room for the Sub Pop, post-grunge Seattle sound and for

Metallica. Newer acts like Headswim, Monster Magnet, and Green Day, and

older ones like Neil Young, the Stooges, Blue Cheer and Tom Petty.

''But not Saxon, or Celtic Frost, and definitely no Emerson Lake and

Palmer re-issues. We're not indie. We're not Radio 1 playlist. We're not

being puppeted from London. We're not pomp-rock. ''Yet rather than

saying what we're not, perhaps the most important point to note is that

the show will be properly resourced, so we'll be able to do sessions;

live music; satellite links, outside broadcasts from Barrowland and

other venues.

''There will be news packages, features, and career retrospectives --

Wayne Kramer, once of the MC5, would have been a natural for the

progamme, but the dates of his UK itinerary mean that he will have been

and gone by the time we're on air on April 30.

''It won't simply be John and a pile of discs every week. There will

be opinions from voices other than John's, although he is the

programme's anchor. There will be Scottish contributors, too, but while

we're Scottish-based, we have to remember that we're broadcasting to a

national audience who don't want tartan 'n' haggis radio from a bunch of

Scots telling them how great Scottish music is.

''Actually, at the moment Scotland doesn't have many metal bands,

possibly because we haven't had a history of them. But we do have a

tradition of guitar-based bands, from the Sensational Alex Harvey Band

to Del Amitri. And I am aware that we have a duty to good new Scottish

rock bands -- but only if they're good and new, not solely because

they're Scottish.''

If the forthcoming programme doesn't yet have a title, does it have a

motto?

John Cavanagh ponders. ''If it does, it would have to be a comic

spoken section from Lumpy Gravy: 'The way I see it, Barry, this should

be a very dynamite show.' Very dynamite, that's us.''

Not lumpy. Not grave. Very rock. Very roll. Very educated and

passionate. John Cavanagh and Stewart Cruickshank: Radio 1 is on the up.