So, there I am driving leisurely (those that know me, know this to be a true story already) up to the dentist in nicely cut lawn Surrey on Friday morn to relieve the nerve in my tooth from any further active duty and for services rendered - chuck him in the bin - the b*stard.
And I stumble upon some pirate station that I rather like. Stumble upon isn't actually true, I was sick of 'Thought for the day' on R4 and wandered off to Classic FM for five mins to escape TFR* claptrap. Anyway, I found by accident, the best house I have heard in, i don't know, a long time shall we say. Pulled over to lock in the signal (an urban technical term) and listened away hoping for a jingle to id a website or a station name etc.
But it just kept coming. I was sat outside a contender for curtain twitcher of the year - Surrey division - award's house 20 mins later when the music faded and a rather bemused and befuddled DJ (or is it MC in urbanian circles?) wandered on and started babbling on about old school hardcore and off he went, explaining he had been a bit late and the breakfast show was now starting at about 9am rather than the 7am it was supposed to.
I was sat there ages. This was ok as I had left a lot of time for bad traffic and then realised, post depart, that it was half term.
But then it happened. In a really quite pathetic and tame and scardy way, I decided to text some underground babble to the DJMC chap in an attempt to bond. Or at least allow half of Tottenham or Hackney (both getting regular shout outs now he'd woken up a bit and the texts were 'lighting up') to wonder what on earth a t*t like me was doing listening in the badlands of the Surrey commuter belt in a cul-de-sac on the way to the dentist.
And I did.
And he read it.
And he laughed.
And I felt connected.
Sort of bonded with my fellow underground garage fan man as I can only imagine one would have in a field off the M25 in 1988 smiling inanely and hugging a bloke called Darren, telling him that he's your brother.
Post dentist and apres root nerve - RIP (please :-() I texted again. Again getting a friendly and quite down to earth broadcast response.
And now I'm hooked. Just done it again. Great Garage - let them know. Love it.
Turns out it's not that Pirate. Just sounds it. It's a web based station. Not sure how i picked it up in L'il Clizzle Vanizzle (my clio van) when they say they don't broadcast on FM....?
Maybe it was an epiphany and I was suppose to pick it up through my fillings and the car radio....
Station is....
truelive.co.uk - it's great!
(TFR - Totally F*ckin Righteous) :?
And I stumble upon some pirate station that I rather like. Stumble upon isn't actually true, I was sick of 'Thought for the day' on R4 and wandered off to Classic FM for five mins to escape TFR* claptrap. Anyway, I found by accident, the best house I have heard in, i don't know, a long time shall we say. Pulled over to lock in the signal (an urban technical term) and listened away hoping for a jingle to id a website or a station name etc.
But it just kept coming. I was sat outside a contender for curtain twitcher of the year - Surrey division - award's house 20 mins later when the music faded and a rather bemused and befuddled DJ (or is it MC in urbanian circles?) wandered on and started babbling on about old school hardcore and off he went, explaining he had been a bit late and the breakfast show was now starting at about 9am rather than the 7am it was supposed to.
I was sat there ages. This was ok as I had left a lot of time for bad traffic and then realised, post depart, that it was half term.
But then it happened. In a really quite pathetic and tame and scardy way, I decided to text some underground babble to the DJMC chap in an attempt to bond. Or at least allow half of Tottenham or Hackney (both getting regular shout outs now he'd woken up a bit and the texts were 'lighting up') to wonder what on earth a t*t like me was doing listening in the badlands of the Surrey commuter belt in a cul-de-sac on the way to the dentist.
And I did.
And he read it.
And he laughed.
And I felt connected.
Sort of bonded with my fellow underground garage fan man as I can only imagine one would have in a field off the M25 in 1988 smiling inanely and hugging a bloke called Darren, telling him that he's your brother.
Post dentist and apres root nerve - RIP (please :-() I texted again. Again getting a friendly and quite down to earth broadcast response.
And now I'm hooked. Just done it again. Great Garage - let them know. Love it.
Turns out it's not that Pirate. Just sounds it. It's a web based station. Not sure how i picked it up in L'il Clizzle Vanizzle (my clio van) when they say they don't broadcast on FM....?
Maybe it was an epiphany and I was suppose to pick it up through my fillings and the car radio....
Station is....
truelive.co.uk - it's great!
(TFR - Totally F*ckin Righteous) :?
