‘He is absolutely immune to my charms’: Wil Anderson on good mate Adam Spencer

Wil Anderson, 50, is a comedian, broadcaster and author. Adam Spencer, 55, is a comedian, maths geek and author. Two decades ago, they spent six years co-hosting Triple J Breakfast, securing a firm friendship and legions of fans.

Adam Spencer (front): “Conversationally, we just fit. I talk silly, nerdy, OCD stuff; he’s more of a comedic everyman.”Credit: Josh Robenstone

Adam: I first met Wil in 1998 on the set of Good News Week at the ABC in Gore Hill in Sydney. I asked him if he wanted to come on the radio the next day. I was hosting [afternoon show] The Departure Lounge solo. We had a bit of a yack on-air, which went well, and he came on again. I can still remember the happiness I felt when I thought, “This is starting to click.”

In 2000, Wil joined me as the co-host on Triple J Breakfast. Conversationally, we just fit. I talk silly, nerdy, OCD stuff; he’s more of a comedic everyman.

Wil always made a point of not learning any of the technical skills himself; I had a lot more formal radio craft. His theory was, if he got good at that, they’d split us up and put me with someone else. However, one morning, I woke up at 5.40am – having slept in after a very, very late night out – hopped on my pushbike and got into the studio at 6.03 and 55 seconds. The news was finishing and there’s Wil sitting staring at the desk. I hit “Play” on a song, and he said, “I put a CD in; I was pretty sure I had to hit that button.”

It was a red-wire, blue-wire, Bourne Identity moment. I said, “Well done, son. How would you turn the mic on?” He said, “No idea, but I was sure you’d be here before the song ended.”

We were on-air for some big things, such as the Sydney 2000 Olympics and 9/11; people still tell us they remember that show in 2001.

‘He’s always been relentless. I don’t think he’s doing it for wealth or fame: he just wants to be better.’

Adam Spencer on Wil Anderson

Wil was great with my parents. They’d come on the radio and he’d lead them to an embarrassing one-liner about me wetting my pants or something as a kid. The day after Dad died, I took the day off. I remember hearing a tiny bit of the show that morning and Wil back-announcing a song he knew my dad had liked.

Wil’s meticulous with his craft. Whenever we’d travel, he’d have three newspapers on his lap, reading stories, ripping bits out, putting them in a scrapbook because there might be something for the show. He’s always been relentless. I don’t think he’s doing it for wealth or fame: he just wants to be better. And he has this roving, curious mind; he’s very intelligent. It’s fascinating to think of that brain in a 14-year-old Wil growing up on a dairy farm outside Heyfield, Victoria, thinking he’d like to be a comedian one day.

Ours isn’t a traditional friendship, but we’ve got each other’s backs. When my first marriage ended, I know he had my welfare very close to his heart – and I’d do anything for him, too. His natural state is to be private. If your job as a comedian is to lay yourself bare and make jokes, many of them at your own expense, you probably do have to protect some things.

I know about his osteoarthritis but only from other people [Anderson revealed he was living with the condition on-stage in 2012]. I don’t see it affecting him deeply, but he’s also the sort of person who wouldn’t let you know.

To be radio co-hosts, your brains need to gel. I can tell when Wil’s halfway through something and he’s got a big end point and he’s giving off a “I’ve got this” vibe – or when he’s saying, “For f---’s sake, mate, I’m hanging out here to die by myself.”

Getting back together [for their The First Time (In A Long Time) 20th anniversary show, starting tonight], it’ll be just us bouncing off each other again. I’d say Wil’s given me the most rewarding creative partnership of my life.

Anderson and Spencer’s last Triple J show in 2004, held at Sydney University.Credit: Steven Siewert

Wil: At some point, I just worked out that Adam is a guy I’m going to be friends with forever. We met on Good News Week and he had a non-traditional television look. He had a self-proclaimed wonky eye, which had been operated on by Fred Hollows. He proudly wore his nerd credentials.

We formed a rapport immediately. We both like the intellectual dance of conversation with somebody, even if it’s just flippant or silly. From the very start, we amused each other and had the capacity to push each other in regard to expanding our ideas or world view.

It was his show and I went from being the guy who’s on one day a week to suddenly being asked, “Do you want to do it every day?” We were young and we were ambitious, but it could be challenging, too. Just the nature of early hours and late nights. We didn’t socialise a lot outside work – most of our time together was on-air – but it’s been one of the great enduring relationships of my life.

‘When Adam’s dad was dying, we sat by his bed and I just really made fun of Adam to make him laugh.’

Wil Anderson

The fact that we’re doing this reunion show is absolutely my fault. After COVID, and with some health stuff going on, life felt a bit hard. Adam has been a really good support through a lot of that.

When he gets in contact, it’s normally, “I was listening to your podcast and here’s the correct maths on that thing you were trying to work out.” That’s his love language. Him explaining something to me like I’m a dummy. That’s him saying, “I’m engaged in your world.”

One of my really core memories is when Adam and I went out to the hospice when Larry, his dad, was dying. We sat by his bed and I just really made fun of Adam in front of him to make him laugh. Larry really liked me making fun of Adam and obviously Adam knew that. That’s why he’d asked me to come in. It was a tough time.

Adam is absolutely immune to my charms; I’ve built a career on a range of charms. It’s collaborating with somebody who loves you, is challenged by you, but also sometimes I feel, “I’m infuriating him right now” or “He thinks I’m an absolute idiot right now.”

He’s always struck me as someone who would’ve made a great Lord Mayor of London. He’s got both the intellectual vigour to play the politics of it, but he also loves to host an event and be the master of ceremonies.

People think I’m smart, but Adam’s actually super-smart. And, unexpectedly, he’s become a lifelong friend.

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