“Mr Pasha or Mr Music or any of the Centreforce DJs will guide these ravers to where they want to be where they need to be. Some will be successful in finding the rave, many will not, but driving around the M25 in convoys of 7, 8, 9 cars jam packed full of ravers will be a buzz in itself. And whilst they drive along those dark country lanes Centreforce will keep them company with the latest tunes, the most recent imports and house classics.”
Abigail Foster
Introduction
When underground house and techno music exploded onto the music scene in the late 1980s, it needed an avenue to get its message across to its tribe of adoring fans. It achieved that through the ingenious method of pirate radio. An illegal media that the establishment hated but was a roaring success. Clubbers of many genres scrambled to get their nearest radio in the hour or car and turned the dial until they got to one of the many stations that existed at the time. Music lovers would drive to Alexandra Palace or Birmingham to pick up the signal. There were stations where there was nonstop music, and a DJ gave shout-outs to many listeners who had been lucky enough to get through on the telephone.
These pirate radio stations were primitive but effective. Radio masts were hurriedly erected on the top of tower blocks with gaffer tape to keep them in place. People running them loved the vibe and were prepared to risk their lives shinning out of a top flat floor window to get the mast in place and transmit. The police, or the Feds as they were called, loved to raid and shut these stations down, given the power to do so by the Telecommunications Act of 1984, but as soon as they closed one, another popped up. It wasn’t the high life as many would tell you that were involved in it—cramped rooms with sometimes cockroaches running over the equipment. Basic decks with lots of non-health and safety wires coming from them and a DJ sweating blood to keep the music going. Yet, these pioneers were heroes in their field. They brought joy to so many on a work night or weekend. They were playing infectious, groundbreaking, raw, fresh and on-point music.
The Mix
There was a wealth of pirate radio stations at this time. These included Centreforce Radio, Fantasy, Friends FM, Sunrise and Kiss FM. These stations were innovative, pressing their vinyl and selling it to the public. DJs would flock to get their hands on the latest sounds and often spend thousands of pounds on these grooved gems to please the dancing tribe. In an era where ecstasy was all the rage, wide-eyed racers were awash with sweat, a community brought together by one love, the sounds of trance and rave bellowed out on oversized speakers, booming the night away until early hours.
Fields, disused warehouses, or anywhere the promoters could get their hands on at short notice. Fuelled by the pumped-out music from this wealth of pirate radio stations, crowds would gather at places like South Mimms Service Station and Blackheath Common or just cruise in a convoy of cars around the M25 to wait for a confirmed venue. DJs like Mr Pasha or Mr Music give them the green light to rock up and rave. Music that was high-octane, fast-moving and accompanied by a spectacular light show that blinded and inspired the best dance moves, an explosion of colour from neon rave tubes, and the wealth of colourful clothing.
To hear one of these radio stations or attend one of these raves was like finding one of the golden tickets in a Willie Wonka chocolate bar. Good dust that was pure, extreme and was two fingers up to the establishment. Mr Pasha, Kenny Ken, Keith Mac, Danielle, Rochelle or The Doctor helping ease you away from the strains of everyday life. It was a glorious time to grow up in an era of music that drove the direction of club music and future genres of music brands.
