Dead Man Talking

Riding the London Underground is a risky business. We’re reminded of this every time we travel on

the tube, inevitably at the stations when the train pulls to a stop: ‘Mind the Gap’, says a disembodied recorded voice. Or sometimes, just in case we don’t know where the gap is, ‘Mind the gap between the train and the platform’.

I’ve looked at this gap, studied it closely, and I can tell you that at most stations you’d have to be stick-thin to ever stand a chance of falling into it. (That’s English for you: stand a chance of falling…) Mind you, small children are obviously at greater risk, so the caution has merit.

Bipeds apart, the gap is invariably big and gaping enough to accommodate mobile phones, umbrellas, wallets and purses. And Oyster cards. So just in case you didn’t hear the announcement, or are hearing-impaired, platforms also have the warning painted on the edge at regular intervals. At Baker Street, the worst for gap incidents on an annual basis (which brings a whole new meaning to the term ‘gap year’), blue warning lights have been installed as an extra precaution.

The verbal warning was first introduced in London in 1969. In January of that year I boarded a train to Southampton in order to catch the SS Canberra, and sail off to a new life in New Zealand. No warnings about gaps were given, though I made it on and off the train without problem. No caution was given either that it would be a gap of over forty years before I fully returned to the UK, during which time ‘Mind the Gap’ had become synonymous with rail travel, particularly in London.

In fact a whole souvenir industry has evolved around the phrase, with tee shirts, mugs and even underwear spreading the message globally. When I am finally laid to rest I plan to have it stencilled at the graveside so that as my casket is lowered within nobody comes a cropper and joins me. ‘Mind the gap between the graveside and the casket’ my recorded voice will announce to the mourners. Or mourner; who am I kidding?

(As an aside, someone should record an announcement for President Trump’s mobile, so that just before he sends out yet another inflammatory Tweet it says, ‘Mind the gap between the brain and the [social media] platform’)

As a former voice on radio and television I listen to the gap announcements with professional interest. They vary according to whether they’re in-train or on-platform, the latter often being done live by unseen TfL staff. Theirs is always a bit rushed and often a bit too close to the microphone, but I guess making them is in their job descriptions.

One of the recorded train announcements sounds very like actor and columnist David Mitchell, though I doubt it is him. When the gap warnings were first recorded it was indeed by a professional voice, but the actor’s agency sought royalties from London Underground at the time, who refused, so the original announcement was actually recorded by the audio engineer instead. Hah. You can stick your ten percent you greedy agency you.

There’s also a particular female voice that sounds a bit like Joanna Lumley, and I wait in vain for a ‘darling’ to be added to the end of the announcement. I think it would be great if Transport for London engaged some famous voices for the cautionary gap announcements (and yes, paid royalties). Maybe not full-time, but now at Christmas for example, what fun it would be to listen to Sir Ian McKellen gravely shouting in his best Gandalf voice: ‘None shall pass, without minding the Gap!’

Or French and Saunders could do it…

Dawn: ‘Is this a station coming up?’

Jen: ‘Looks like it. Shall we tell ’em?’

Dawn: ‘What, about the…’

Jen: ‘Yes, you know, mindin’ the gap’.

Dawn: ‘You do it. I’m West Country, your voice is posher…’

Jen: ‘Really? You think so? No…’

Sir David Attenborough might breathily contribute too: ‘The gap… which has been around since trains were invented… remains as tricky, and ubiquitous, as when it first appeared. Ready to consume its prey at a moment’s notice, it should be treated with extreme caution…’

Okay, maybe not. An announcement needs to be brief and to the point. Miranda would likely pull it off - ‘Mind the gap, cheeky!’ - but best of all would have to be a Dalek. That would be brilliant.

I learned recently that one particular gap broadcast is in fact a voice from ‘the other side’. At Embankment the doom-laden tones of the ‘Mind the Gap’ message on the Northern line station are those of theatrically-trained Mr Oswald Laurence, who died in 2007. His voice had been heard at many a station on the Northern line before then, but it was slowly phased out, until Embankment was the last place it was used.

After his death, his widow Margaret would still enjoy listening to his voice, but one day in late 2012 she was devastated to find he had been replaced. No longer could she enjoy her late husband’s announcements. But when TfL learned that she was missing her Oswald’s voice they did a wonderful thing – they reinstated him.

I went to Embankment specifically to hear Mr Laurence. It’s a stentorian performance, worthy of Shakespeare. He enunciates perfectly, and adds a dramatic pause between the word ‘Mind’ and ‘the’, just to get our attention. I suspect he wore tights and held a skull in his hand when he recorded it. Alas poor Oswald.

That’s not to say the contemporary performances are dull – they’re actually a lot warmer, and usually include the word ‘please’ at the start. (Which is better than putting ‘Or else!’ at the end)

But I like the announcements, all of them, and it was great to get on a train at the weekend and hear the Cockney driver say over the speakers, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard this Polar Express to the North pole via Lapland. Stand clear of the closing doors please, stand clear of the doors!’ And off we went. The whole carriage was smiling, the gap between strangers on a train safely reduced.