Good pop music can be made by musicians of any vintage

For years he had chafed against the refusal of cutting-edge radio stations to play his records, not for any lack of quality but simply because of his age, his bran-wholesome image and long-time involvement in evangelical Christianity.

Finally, he resorted to desperate measures - albeit possibly breaching St Paul's definition of perfect truth. As well as the regular single of Can't Keep This Feeling In, a heavily remixed rap version was released under the pseudonym Blacknight (the name of his new record label) and subtitled the Step Child mix after Step Child, the producer who did the electronic doctoring. Without Richard's halo around it, the track was instantly playlisted by youth-oriented stations all over the country, including some that had previously blacklisted him.

Hardcore rap and soul DJs, who would have committed hara-kiri on their turntables rather than play a Cliff Richard record, went overboard for Blacknight. Dirty Den at KLIMAXX FM predicted the supposed newcomer's debut single would "do big things on the urban scene". E-Ze at Juice 105 FM called it "wicked rap with a good feel". DJ Pugwash at Unique FM said it had "street flava" and Kurt Gee at Rebel FM hailed it as a "cool toon". The release of the same song in ordinary format proved that Richard did not have to resort to such subterfuges and that he did not need validation from Dirty Den and DJ Pugwash either.

"Can't Keep This Feeling In might not be the greatest pop record ever made, but it deserves a hearing."

Last week, Richard's continuing crusade to be taken seriously by contemporary popsters led him to a head-on confrontation with Evans, the voluble DJ and chat-show host. A fortnight ago, the venerable knight appeared on Evans's Channel 4 show, TFI Friday, a production with the ambience of a saloon bar full of semi-drunks. During the interview Richard admitted that before appearing on the programme he had never seen it. Whether or not the ginger-haired maestro was annoyed by this sacrilege is not known. But last week on his Virgin Radio breakfast show, Evans announced that as the station's owner - as well as its chief DJ - he wanted the organisation's entire stock of Cliff Richard records "thrown out".

There was a time when disc jockeys were fired by enthusiasm and open-mindedness; it was, after all, an American DJ, Alan Freed, who coined the phrase "rock'n'roll". The spectacle of this or that performer being ceremoniously banned from a radio station is reminiscent of the reactionary era when Elvis Presley and the Beatles suffered similar boycotts, and brings to mind the old-style BBC at its most stuffy and repressive.

Evans, however, is somewhat different from your conventional music-mad record spinner. His morning show for Virgin, like the one he walked out on at Radio 1, is primarily a vehicle for his infantile shock-jock chatter, lavatorial jokes and shrieks of obedient laughter from his entourage.

Virgin Radio's London offices were picketed by outraged Cliff fans.

Richard says he has nothing personal against Evans. "He was nice to me on his show - then he turns round and slags me off something rotten. But you've got to respect the success he's had. He started all this, and I think I've come out of it slightly better. People now realise there are other pop gurus around."

Yet the puzzle remains of why it is still such a matter of life and death for Richard to be back in the charts after all the piled-up achievement behind him. Since 1958 he has had more than 100 hit records and spent something like 1,000 weeks in the British top 10, the equivalent of almost 20 years. Only Elvis has surpassed his longevity as a hit-maker; no other vocalist nor band, not even the Beatles, can claim even half of it.

As a concert attraction he is, if anything, more potent today than in the late 1950s when, in blob bow tie and peg-top trousers, he hand-clapped amid his step-dancing backing group, the Shadows. Tickets for his tours go on sale a year in advance and always sell out within hours, even if the resultant multitude is a virtually unbroken sea of grannies.

Success in pop, however massive, seems to be as ephemeral as a Chinese banquet; the more one samples, the greater remains the craving.

But success in pop, however massive, seems to be as ephemeral as a Chinese banquet; the more courses one samples, the greater remains the craving. Why else would Richard's fellow knights, Elton John and Paul McCartney, be motivated to go on recording and touring despite being wealthy almost beyond computation and incapable of ever recapturing the brilliance of their youth?

Anno Domini has proved little impediment to others in the rock business: the Rolling Stones still sell out multi-million-dollar world tours and somehow remain the emblem of wild, unbridled youth, despite now resembling elderly and debauched charwomen. Tom Jones, only four months younger than Richard, has become a cult figure with modern audiences because of his inexhaustible energy and lack of self-doubt.

Modern music fans are catholic in their tastes and early Cliff records are admired for their energy.

A truly savvy DJ would realise, in any case, that modern music fans are catholic in their tastes and that early Cliff Richard records such as Move It, Dynamite and Willie and the Hand-Jive are admired for their primitive-painting energy and their widely acknowledged influence on a later generation of mega-groups.

Though attracted to the idea of "slowing down", Richard says he has no thoughts of retiring yet. "Making records is what I've chosen to do, so I want to go on doing it for as long as I can. All this has given me a fantastic boost, it's like being back in the early days of rock'n'roll.

"I love it that black stations play me, even maybe think I'm a black performer. And it's wonderful to be called wicked."