The problem with writing a memoir, found Nick Grimshaw as he started his, was that it meant facing himself. Throughout his career, first on telly and in the gossip pages, then through 14 years at BBC Radio 1 (six of which were presenting the breakfast show), he’s found success by offering a bit of a laugh, ordering pizzas for hungover guests, asking pals like Adele to answer the phones. “Lols.” And skating over this life of light relief, he realised he’d asked plenty of questions of other people, but hardly a single one of himself.
When he told friends he was writing a book, most of them quickly asked if they could come to the party. But one, Drew, asked why. Why was he writing about himself? Why was it important? Grimshaw (“Grimmy” to friends, which include, by default, his audiences, who come up to him on the street and start talking as though they’re midway through a conversation) chuckled, awkwardly. I’ll tell you why, Drew sighed, eventually. It’s important, he said, “because you, as a queer, weird kid hanging around with your elderly neighbours, obsessed with music, had laser-sharp vision of what you wanted to do with your life. And then… you actually did it.”
