Paul Coia and Billy Sloan on working at Radio Clyde

The driving force behind the event is Norman Ross, who presented Clyde's hugely popular show, Visiting Time, in which he spoke to hundreds of hospital patients.

The launch of Radio Clyde: 'We were a family from the word go'

Norman, who runs a Facebook account, Radio Clyde Reunited, approached Glasgow City Council to ask if it would be willing to mark the station's birth.

He said: "It's been really interesting to work on the Clyde 50th anniversary reunion. I think it's important to keep all the original people together. It's important to recognise their efforts from that time. They were genuine pioneers in a sense.

"Yes, it was a commercial venture, but for them it was personal. It's important for me that their efforts are publicly recognised by the city. I'm pleased that this is happening and that so many of us will be at the civic reception on January 18".

RADIO REVIEW: Radio Clyde: Celebrating 50 years - from Tiger Tim to Billy Sloan

Radio Clyde was heard for the first time at 10.30pm that long-ago Hogmanay,  broadcasting on 261 metres medium wave from studios at Anderston in Glasgow. The first voice heard was that of Tony Currie. The first record played was Song of the Clyde, by Kenneth McKellar.

The new station was an instant success with listeners, and helped give Glasgow people a voice on the radio that they had not previously had.

Over the decades Clyde presenters have included  ‘Tiger’ Tim Stevens, Tom Ferrie, Dougie Donnelly, Bill Smith and Richard Park. Among those who went on to become famous after getting their first breaks on 261 are Paul Coia, Ross King, Steve Jones and Jackie Bird.

Lord Provost Jacqueline McLaren said: “I’m looking forward to hosting this special civic reception to mark half a century since the launch of Radio Clyde. A broadcasting first for the city and the West of Scotland, serving and reflecting the mischief, humour and straight-talking that is the hallmark of all Glaswegians - wherever they live. As well as their love of music.

"It’s a remarkable legacy that’s been replicated but never bettered. The originality, creative vision, energy,  loyalty and commitment that Radio Clyde, and its line-up of stellar presenters, has shown its listeners- is something it can be proud of as part of broadcasting history.”

Here, Paul Coia and Billy Sloan reflect on their colourful Radio Clyde experiences.

Paul Coia

I wasn't there for the start of Clyde. I'd just left school and was in my first year at Uni while also DJing in clubs. I remember Clyde's opening night well as all us kids were packed in my dad's car en route to/from my aunt's New Year's Eve party. It was otherworldly hearing Glasgow accents and local place names on the radio. It made the city I took for granted suddenly seem glamorous. 

The presenters became household names, and I used to write in to them, winning records on Bill Smith's Soul show, becoming a studio guest on Steve Jones' Rock programme, and once appearing on Tom Ferrie's afternoon show as a quiz guest.

So, when I nervously sent Clyde a demo tape and received a letter saying Andy Park [programme controller] wanted to see me, I thought life couldn't get better. Turned out he only wanted to meet me to put a face to "the worst demo I've ever received." But he spent an hour with me giving advice. He said I had potential, and advised me to try and join Hospital Radio to learn the difference between DJing in clubs and presenting on radio. 

This was typical of the expert guidance I received from Radio Clyde. 

After six months with Hospital Radio I joined Clyde and Jimmy Gordon pulled me aside, saying he was horrified I hadn't finished my last two exams at Uni. He offered me an ex-gratia payment if I'd go back and complete my degree.

When I was offered the job of opening Channel Four, Alex Dickson, my then boss, said I should grab it as it would open doors for me and I'd regret turning it down. He said if it didn't work out I could always come back to Clyde as the door would always be open. They were great bosses. And when I moved into TV, it was the first presenter on Radio Clyde's opening night, Tony Currie, who guided me and taught me how to be an announcer at STV.

On my first Clyde show, Sunday morning 2am - 6am, I ran out of things to say by the time the three o'clock news started. I was devastated. I had three more hours to fill. Then I had inspiration. I thought I'd talk to any insomniacs who might be listening. Straight out of the news, with the word 'insomniac' bouncing round in my panicking head, I dedicated the next song to any "necrophiliacs" who might be listening. I only realised my gaffe when Colin Adams, the newsreader, bounced in and told me what I'd said. He pulled it off the logger tape and on to cassette for me, so I still have that memory of the first night that I thought would be my last.

I was first introduced to all the DJs at a roadshow they did at Tiffany's, and seeing how they were treated as superstars by the crowd was an eye opener. Especially Tiger Tim. I thought I'd never met anyone as weird and wonderful as he was, and I was right.

Over the years he'd come into the studio when I was doing interviews and he'd drop his trousers or change the speed on my records, mix up the jingles, pass wind, you name it. I credit the fact I can handle most things live on air with the baptism of fire he put me through.

My first Christmas on air, I asked all the DJs to reminisce about the favourite childhood Christmas. Everyone gave me their tapes days before broadcast, but Tim brought his while I was on air, so I couldn't preview it and had to put it out live with fingers crossed. He'd recorded it after our Christmas lunch, very tipsy, and it ended with him being sick all over Richard Park's desk. 

As I settled in at Clyde I was asked to do gigs like opening fetes or bazaars, where the complaining line from the organiser was usually "We thought we'd be getting Frank Skerret." When the Co-op opened at the Kingston Bridge I was paid just to walk round for an hour with some photos ready to sign when asked by the thousands of excited shoppers. I signed a grand total of zero.

As I became better known, to be part of Radio Clyde, publicly, made me very proud. It stood up for the city, it celebrated it, and it did this with a team that were the best in the business. I learned much more than I deserved.

Broadcasters lead tributes to 'inspirational' former Radio Clyde MD Alex Dickson

As Clyde grew in reputation, nationally and internationally, all the stars would come to see us, so we'd end up interviewing our heroes as well as those starting out. I did Sheena Easton's first-ever radio interview, and she refused a taxi back to Bellshill because she wanted to make the day last longer by getting the bus as she thought it might be her only ever interview. Subsequently, her first TV spot away from The Big Time was on my STV chat show.

We became good friends but then had a huge falling out a year later on Clyde when I told her I preferred the B side of her new single to the A side. She walked out on that interview and her manager Deke Arlon apologised on her behalf. I think fame was becoming too much for her at that time. It 's the only time someone's walked out on me. 

Personal heroes like Debbie Harry, Glen Campbell, Earth Wind and Fire, Chaka Khan, Elton John, The Stones, Queen, Billy Connolly - you name it, I had the privilege of meeting and interviewing them, all because of the magnet that is Radio Clyde. I had the honour on several occasions of going on stage at the Apollo to represent Clyde and award the statues that bands received for selling out the venue. Status Quo's John Coghlan told me recently he still has his in his bathroom. 

I made lifelong friends at Clyde - I still keep in touch with Tim Stevens, Ross King and Paul Cooney - and I owe everything to the station. Without it I'd have been a dentist, still causing pain but without the tunes.  

Billy Sloan

I STARTED at Clyde in 1979. I had worked for a tabloid newspaper/magazine that Radio Clyde had, called Clyde Guide, which had lasted exactly a year. It was their version of the Radio Times, with all the programme listings and music features and celebrity interviews.

In those days you had the dream team of DJs - Tiger Tim, Steve Jones, Dougie Donnelly, Bill Smith, Dave Marshall, Tom Ferrie, Richard Park, Paul Coia. All those guys were great and you always had loads of great stories - they were always up to something,  especially the Tiger. We used to have to smuggle him in and out of buildings. There would be hundreds of girls standing outside, trying to grab him and cut chunks out of his hair.

[In his book Billy recalls launching his 'alternative music' show with "one of the most exciting live recordings of all time" - a near-nine-minute-long live track, What Goes On, recorded by the Velvet Underground in 1969].

On my show I felt I had to plant my flag-pole in the centre circle, so to speak. The music policy on the station was a lot looser then.

Dougie Donnelly had an excellent Friday night programme, The Boozy-Woogie Rock Show. If somebody like Elvis Costello was playing the Glasgow Apollo and it finished at 10.30, they'd bring him down to Clyde and he'd come in, live, as a guest.

 The music policy then was good but when they got me in in '79 I felt I had to do something different, because nobody was playing the kind of music that I liked - U2, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Associates, Simple Minds, Orange Juice, The Skids. I never had any broadcasting experience whatsoever. All those DJs I mentioned had all learned their craft in the clubs. I had never presented a radio show in my life but I thought I knew what was required.

As I say in the book, I must have umm'ed and aah'ed and stuttered my way through a two-hour programme but my attitude was, you're only one great record away from the next great record. At that time it was the only show in Scotland for what I guess you would call alternative music. No other radio station had a programme like it.

I wasn't sitting every week like a soothsayer saying, 'I'm going to make stars of this band. I've got the power - I'm on the radio'. It was nothing like that at all. It was more a case of, 'This is a great record; maybe somebody else might think it's a great record'.

I was getting between 20 and 25 demo tapes a week. If I went into town to have a look round some record store, I would come back with pocketsful of cassettes. I think the entire music population of Glasgow was walking about the city centre at some point, hoping on the off-chance that they might bump into me in Listen, or Bruce's Records, or at a gig or something.

But it was great, it was really exciting. They didn't know what they were doing, I didn't know what I was doing, but we were kind of learning on the job. It was really exciting for that simple reason.

We had great access to the stars back then because the record companies were spending money. They would take an artist out on maybe four- or five-day radio tour, starting in London and working their way up the country: Birmingham, Manchester, Sheffield, Leeds, and eventually find their way up to Glasgow and Edinburgh for Radio Clyde and Radio Forth.

I interviewed U2 - that was their first big radio interview in Scotland. I interviewed Adam Ant and Marco Pirroni when Kings of the Wild Frontier came out in 1980 - within a year Adam was the biggest thing on the planet and you couldn't get near him. But he always did things for me because I had helped him in the very early days when he was struggling to get any kind of recognition.

I used to fill in for Dougie Donnelly when he was off on holiday and it was exactly like [the Radio 1 show] Round Table, when we would have artists in, reviewing the week's new singles. One week the guests were Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin, and Dave Stewart and Annie Lennox of Eurythmics. One of them would have been enough for a two-hour show but we had all three sitting there.

I interviewed Kid Creole, Phil Oakey from the Human League, I had, very early on, an interview with Kevin Rowland from Dexy's Midnight Runners in 1982. There was always somebody coming up.

Billy Sloan on Tina Turner, Liza Minnelli...and shortbread

The most significant one for me was Kate Bush in 1982, when her album, The Dreaming, came out, and the single was Sat in Your Lap. I jumped at the chance to interview her. I always did my homework before interviews and at the end of it she said it was her favourite interview out of the whole UK radio tour. I guess she would just go into radio stations where they'd heard Wuthering Heights and so on, but I was a real fan, and I think that's why she appreciated the interview so much.