‘And heeere they come!' Meet Mr X, the voice of NDP for over 20 years

CNA

2 days ago

"Look up at the skies! And heeere they come!"
Moments after William Xavier's iconic command booms across the National Day Parade (NDP) venue, fighter jets from the Republic of Singapore Air Force soar overhead in a bomb burst manoeuvre.
The signature aerial display at every NDP sees a tight formation of aircraft suddenly fan out in different directions, like fireworks exploding in the sky.
Down in the stands, heads tilt upwards and arms shoot up, phones poised, mouths agape, as the planes thunder above. The magic is fleeting, but real.
And Xavier, affectionately known as Mr X, has been ushering in this spectacle since 1998.
As the parade's official emcee and 'Voice of NDP', anyone who has watched the show – even just a rehearsal – would recognise his deep baritone. He's not seen on stage, unlike the four main hosts. But his voice is a hallmark of the NDP experience.
In industry speak, his 'disembodied voice' is known as the 'Voice of God', the 66-year-old told CNA Lifestyle ahead of Saturday's (Aug 9) show about a role he's glad to reprise yearly.
The term refers to a voice that proclaims from on high, issuing announcements or instructions that carry weight and are rarely disputed, he explained.
'(It's the) all-seeing eye, reaching down and saying: Let there be light ... And since I'm the only one speaking, somebody's got to reach for a switch or replace a light bulb,' he quipped.
'You don't dispute the Voice of God because he speaks with a certain level of authority. In other words, if the Voice of God says 'stand up' because the president is here, (there's) nothing much to be discussed.'
THE ONLY 'VOICE OF NDP' SINCE THE START
Now a radio DJ with Mediacorp's Gold905 where he helms Nite Flite on weeknights, Xavier began his career in 1981 as a radio and television presenter, as well as voiceover artiste.
But it wasn't until 1998 that he first lent his voice to the NDP.
He took to the stage as a host that year, alongside the late Victor Khoo, Dahlia Z and R Chandran. Announcements, such as introducing the prime minister's motorcade, were simply read from a sheet on hand by whichever host was available at the time.
Gradually, the NDP committee saw 'some usefulness' in designating a single voice for such announcements, he said. It was "most likely 2003" when they invited him to be the 'stadium announcer' – a position distinct from the on-stage hosts who engaged the crowd directly.
Meanwhile, speaking to the television audience remained a separate task. 'I think they went out of their way to blank me out or have the TV commentator speak over me when there appeared to be some duplication of duties,' he recalled.
Yet, his boss eventually found a way to let his voice be heard both at home and in the stands.
And because he's been the 'only person' to have held this very NDP responsibility, 'I basically define the role', he added.
DELIVERING UNDERSTANDABLE COMMENTARY
Even though the NDP follows a largely consistent overall structure, Xavier's script is never a carbon copy of the previous year's. He doesn't memorise his lines word for word, as he also has to be ready for possible eleventh-hour changes – like announcing the delayed arrival of a guest on the day itself.
Nonetheless, the weekly rehearsals leading up to the Aug 9 show give him a chance to flag 'less than spectacular sections, or weaker sections of the proceedings that need to be tightened up', he said.
He occasionally suggests tweaks to make a segment feel 'even more like a performance', since he's noticed the military tends to focus on 'getting from Point A to Point B without any sort of showbiz element'.
On a nitty-gritty level, he taps on his experience as a professional speaker to spot words, phrases or sequences in the script that may trip him up.
A line with too many vowels, for example, could be tricky. Words can feel slippery or hard to enunciate clearly without enough consonants to break up the flow. This can affect pacing, clarity and breath control.
He also prefers scripts formatted in a way that won't potentially disrupt delivery. It wouldn't be ideal if, say, a certain phrase or paragraph that's meant to highlight a parade segment finishes on a different line or continues onto the back of the page.
'For me to minimise these mistakes, I have anything that I'm talking about appear on one page. No continuation onto another page,' he said.
'And any given item is completely laid out – hence giant sheets, I think A3 and up – with spaces in between for me to correct, or to suggest a neater or clearer way of presenting the message I'm conveying.'
Since the audience doesn't have a copy of the script to follow, they must be able to understand it the minute they hear it. If his speech is replete with jargon, 'then all the effort would have been for naught', he stressed.
'Speak concisely and clearly – which is basically part and parcel of everything I do elsewhere.'
FINDING HIS VOICE, THEN HONING IT
Admittedly, Xavier had quite a headstart, discovering his affinity for speaking at the age of eight.
It was a few years after Singapore gained independence. His parents, both civil servants who took the English language seriously, instilled in him the same respect for clear speech and the importance of contributing meaningfully to national development.
By listening closely to his parents and reading ahead with his older brother's books, he naturally performed at a higher level. Eventually he was selected, along with a classmate, to read aloud to their peers.
As the 'literary people' of the class, the two boys' extracurricular activity (ECA) involved supporting a children's literacy programme run in collaboration with the National Library then at Stamford Road.
'It was our good fortune to be able to take advantage of all the so-called leading or new technologies, like (the) setting up (of) public libraries (and) encouraging people to read as part of school ECAs,' he recalled.
On Tuesday afternoons, they were even brought to Radio and Television Singapore at Caldecott Hill – conveniently located a stone's throw from their primary school – where they would read their library books aloud and record them on tape.
Still, despite stumbling upon his calling at a young age, Xavier doesn't believe his voice is a talent.
'(Having this voice is) not special, not gifted. Lucky? Yes, very much so. Talent? No. It's not a diamond waiting to be mined," he explained. 'People who do what I do are not born. We're made. 100 per cent this is a skill, and skills can be taught."
And he's learnt that a key skill in his industry is knowing how to be a team player, having been branded as a 'rebel' when he started out.
'You're part of something bigger. You have to identify with 'station'-ality, and not to be too caught up in 'person'-ality,' he said.
It's about the ability to 'quickly and instinctively hone in on what matters', and to recognise the part you're meant to play. In his view, one's training and experience tends to support that.
So when he steps into the announcer booth at the NDP every year, he's home. He seamlessly slips into the right tone for the occasion – in this case, formal yet celebratory.
With voiceover work, it all depends on 'the context in which it is heard rather than the context in which it is read'.
And then, it's showtime.
'(This NDP role) is an expansion of what we do in radio and television. You do what you do, and I do what I do, but until we come together and put our abilities together, we don't have a show,' he said.
'You take that to the umpteenth scale (with NDP), and what you have is a huge number of moving parts, all with military precision.'
Over nine weeks of rehearsals, something special begins to take shape – and it never gets old. 'When you see (the whole) thing come together, however you may feel about the process, the result is pretty darn satisfying,' he said.
Such satisfaction, however, stems from what he calls the 'cardinal rule': Careful preparation beforehand.
'Whatever your audience sees and hears about you must come as a result of you having performed rule Number One. If I didn't have nine weeks of rehearsal and 20 years of experience, the answer would be: No, I would not agree to do the job,' he said.
'Most people have to decide between sounding good and speaking well. For me, there is no option. You have to be both. Or you can decide to be a lawyer.'
Every Aug 9, the celebration may feel magical for many in the audience – but perhaps even more so for the man in the booth. For someone so deeply woven into the NDP experience, it's only fitting that Xavier is a National Day baby.
Some may call it serendipity. Others deem it destiny. But to the man who's a national treasure in his own right, serving his country on his birthday is, simply and always, 'an honour'.