Saturday, September 30, 2017
My Radio 1 Story (247 words)
I came to Radio 1 later than I should. I came for the hits, but stayed for the DJs who held the station together, and they opened my ears to other music I grew to love. I flirted elsewhere but gained no pleasure from shallow playlists, and I hated the adverts, so instead stuck loyally with the Nation's Favourite. I tuned in obsessively, as my family will attest - a permanent musical backdrop to my life for a decade or three.
I switched on every morning as my clock radio kicked into life, I tried to guess the Golden Hour before the first vocals started, I flocked to the Roadshow when it turned up in my town, I craned my ears outside the Sixth Form Common Room every Tuesday lunchtime to try to hear the new chart rundown, I did my university slog to the background banter of the afternoon crew, I drove miles around the countryside singing along to the best songs, I recorded all the new tunes off the Top Forty every Sunday afternoon, I stretched my musical limits throughout the evening, and I drifted off into sleep after a final burst of whoever was on over midnight.
I admired Radio 1's breadth and underlying intelligence, and carried on listening far longer than demographics might suggest. I’d still be there today except I can no longer endure the daytime burble that counts as mainstream music, and once our cultures no longer overlapped I switched off.
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