WAKING ON THE AIR

Aled Jones is the butt of many a joke on Chris Moyles' Breakfast Show. He's also the certifiably the loveliest homo on the airwaves. For a gentlemen of a certain age, having such a name might carry a whole wealth of unfortunate connotation but, really, Aled Jones has done terribly well for himself so far, despite his unfortunate moniker. "God, I wanted to f**king hate that guy!" he says, with an unusually irate timbre, over a convoluted Starbucks mochachoccadoublechailatte thing, referring to the Walking in the Air choir boy and blighted amateur ballroom dancer (butch!) with whom he shares his tag. But I met him, and he's actually well nice." It'd be difficult to imagine this Aled Jones really disliking anyone, such is his instanly amiable nature. The day we meet, after his first Attitude photo session (crystal ball: there will be more), Aled has just been promoted, putting an extra wee spring in his already spritely young lad's step. It will make no difference on air. Whether he is Broadcast Assistant or Producer of the World on his contract, Aled will still, publicly, be the gay one in the Chris Moyles' posse, the most popular, notorious and frankly ace Radio 1 breakfast show since Chris Evans', all those many Britpopular aeons ago.

Fortunately for the nation, Aled doesn't mind being the gay one. Born and raised in Aberystwyth, the sleepy coastal epicentre of mid-Wales, he thought long and hard before letting his sexuality be known on air. "I understand that small town mentality, see" he says, reasonably. "My mum and dad run a cafe and when I came out they genuinely thought it might be bad for business, having a gay man in the family. It sounds ridiculous now, but this was almost 10 years ago."

It didn't do anything of the kind - Aled is a hugely likeable sort - but it did make Aled thing about sexuality and provinces when it came back to him during his by-then swishy London media-existence. "You know, it easy to forget this, living in London, but for a lot of people listening to Chris' show, they've never met a gay person before. I had to think about what the implications were." So he decided to go for it, assuming the country was ready to hear funny little daytime-friendly anecdotes of boy-boy love thrown in as if by accident, at an early hour, while munching on its collective cornflakes. "Though when Chris first met me, I don’t think he knew quite how gay I was."

The Big boss seemed genuinely shocked by Aled's moisturising techniques when they found themselves boltholed as a crew, in Portugal for Euro 2004 (butch! I mean, really!)

Part of Aled's decision to let his sexuality be gently uncovered - and in Moyles' occasionally heavy-handed world, this is very gently referencing - was gay domestic happiness. "For the first time on the show, all the posse have partners. I didn't want to be thought of as any different." He's very happy with his man, but is a little scared of jinxing it by saying so. "Honestly," he says, leaning in to double the effect, "the minute I start saying something's okay is usually the minute it goes wrong." A sentiment that will echo loudly in many a gay ear, surely.

Aled is a serial monogamist, though five months and several, um wood-touchings into this one, he is pretty sure it's Mr Right. "He's lovely," he says. Aw bless. As for cutting derision that become Moyles' signature tone, well, Aled thinks he gets the easier end of the stick compared to the other members of the crew. "Honestly, I'd rather have the p*ss taken out of me for being gay than being Bald or coming from Kidderminster." Here, here young man. Keep your eyes open, people. A rosy future is a mere formality for this one. You'll be hearing a lot more from him.