Still a Pistol

"I would love to get a boat to England. Not a love boat, surrounded by old women wanting to play bingo. A big boat, a merchant sea boat. It takes free days to go from New York to Portsmouth. In my past life I might have been a pirate. One of them sea blokes."

Then to the business at hand.

"Let's play a song." It's the Cult's "She Sells Sanctuary."

"Take it away, sunshine!" Jones yells to the producer, using his go-to song cue.

Next up is "Little Red Corvette" by Prince, followed by "Star" from David Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust" album.

"The delicious sound of radio," Jones mumbles when he returns to the mike. Time for a highly personal dedication.

"I'm going to play this song for my mum. 'Cause I don't talk to her anymore, which is sad. It's not her choice, she just don't know how to talk about her feelings. I'm stubborn as well. I do love her, but I can't stand her. Her name's Mary. This song is for her."

"Mary's Prayer," by the '80s Scottish pop band Danny Wilson, plays. Then it's smooth reggae, "96 Degrees in the Shade," by Third World.

"You wouldn't think a guy from the Sex Pistols" would like that song, Jones says upon returning. "Who knows what you like if you're honest with yourself. I like pop. Pop goes the weasel."

He's rambling now. Then he's lost for a moment.

"What am I doing? I'm trying to put a record away while I'm talking. Never done that before."

He refocuses to introduce some schlock. "Don't Forget Me (When I'm Gone)," by Glass Tiger, a long-forgotten and sentimental Canadian pop band, here featuring a cameo on vocals by the deservedly maligned Bryan Adams, whom Jones defends as "pretty talented."

In the final segment, it's some high-fiber modern rock, with the Flaming Lips ("Fight Test"), followed by the Doves ("Last Broadcast") and Wilco ("The Lonely 1"). "God, that's a pretty song," Jones says, winding up the day. He signs off by announcing the winners of a contest and sharing the news that he's lost a CD case.