GLOBAL COMMUNICATION
The net effect
A pirate radio show in London that can be heard in the USA and Japan? Stephen Armstrong
investigates
In the fucked-up, no-rules world of the Internet, however, something is stirring and it's
flying the skull and crossbones. A year ago, long-serving London pirate DJ Mad Ash, who ran Hart
and Face FM, linked up with club promoter and on-line anarchist Howard Jones (no, not that one).
They bragged software and servers, got Ash's old decks and launched an' on-line pirate' station,
broadcasting 24 hours a day over the Internet using state-of-the-art Real Audio equipment.
Twelve months later and InterFACE now has up to 80,00 listeners logging on each week.
US bases in Okinawa, Tuzla and Iceland have been piping interFACE's steaming London dance tunes
out over their base radio stations. Servicemen with handles like Ronnie Rocket play at least two
hours of the station's output every week to grateful flyboys. On Christmas Day last year, a
nuclear sub on patrol off the Florida coast stumbled on InterFACE and piped it around the
skeleton crew who were stuck in the boat for the holidays. Last autumn, two hackers in a large
us corporation fed the station's output into their company's central Tannoy as well as the Muzak
system of the local shopping mall. Although the office Tannoy was shut down swiftly, it took
more than six hours to turn off the London tunes that were scaring the mall shoppers.
Currently on-air/-line are shows by club promoters Magick, the on-line 'Zine Blow, drum
and bass labels like Reinforced Records, Aquatech and Trouble and Vinyl as well as hard house
label Megadog and garage outfit Catch. There's a Northern Soul show and a salsa show and weird
electronica and all the best of British music. There are rumours that Sony executives in Japan
in to spot some new talent and that they've signed Hospital Records on the strength of an
InterFACE set.
So how does it all work? The actual technological set-up is quite complex because in true pirate
style most of the equipment has been blagged. There's a top-of-the-range processor in Farringdon
which links to a huge server in Chiswick which pipes the US. All you need to log on is a
soundcard in your PC. When you first 'tune in', you have to download Real Audio 5 software,
which the station will give you for free, after which time you're listening to the station for
nada.
In the sweaty Clerkenwell basement that InterFACE calls home, Monday night is pretty eclectic.
From 5-7pm UK-time it's Paul G with a garage set, from 7-9pm Jerry B has a garage and house set.
The Rev T takes over at 9pm with techno and hard house. When I arrive, Brushes is already on-line
and making her presence felt in the Chat Room, a window in the PC screen into which listeners
can type their views on the music as it's being played. The Chat Room is how listeners 'talk' to
the station (and each other) throughout broadcasts. Brushes is an Oklahoma grandma who has never
been more than one day's drive from her home, but this year she's planning to come over to London
to visit the station. When she first logged on, she didn't have a PC that was able to pick it
up, so they had to send her tapes. Now she's bought the right PC and forces her grandchildren to
listen to London drum and bass. Today her cow is sick and she's popping out to give it shots
every now and then. She's a farmer.
9pm: Carl Cox looks in to the Chat Room. The boys have been dubious about his identity
for some time.
Running a pirate radio station has never been easy. An average day involves climbing around
roof tops with a dodgy transmitter, avoiding the DTI and coping with fines, nicked transmitters
and court appearances. And all for the glory of reaching 200-odd teens who'll probably change
the dial to Radio One because the sound is too poor to hear the tunes anyway. It's no wonder
most stations come off air after a few months.
"OK, how do I get to play on this station?" Cox types.
"You have to send us a tape," the DJ types back.
"Send you a tape? But I'm Carl Cox!" he responds furiously.
"Everyone has to send a tape," types the DJ.
There's a long pause. 'I'll send you 15 minutes.'
9.50pm: 'Saddam Hussein' checks in to the InterFACE Chat Room. 'Please don't bomb
Oklahoma,' types Brushes.
10.16pm: Rev T puts on "Street Knowledge" by Rubycon. "I'm off to the mooooon!" types a
Tuzla squaddie.
10.33pm: Stroudy from Rio drops in and starts arguing with Mad Yank. Mad Yank wants some
gabba played, which he can't get at home in Oregon, but Stroudy likes the techno. This is
strange. Rio shouting to Oregon about the merits of gabba. You start genuinely thinking about a
world united by music. Then you catch yourself. They're talking about gabba, for fuck's sake.
10.45pm: The Rev T winds up. Reinforced Records are in. Dego from 4 Hero starts a booming
hip hop set while Decoy settles in at the Chat Room and starts asking for contact.
11pm: Lord Asnop complains about the hip hop. "I can get this shit on my radio," he moans.
"Where's the drum and bass?"
11.25pm: The Japanese have heard that Reinforced are coming to Tokyo to launch a label.
"When's the party?" they ask.
11.45pm: It's time to leave. People are calling each other names. Lord Asnop wants some
Metallica and the world thinks he's a wanker. In the freezing night outside, I'm waiting for
my head to clear and thinking that this could be the most exciting thing I've seen for years.
Japan, Rio, Oregon, Oklahoma, Germany and New York plugging into London pirates at the rate of
at least 80,000 a month. Soldiers, grandmothers and East End ruffnecks typing about music to
each other. It could be the one nation under a groove that's making me feel so hyped up. Then
again, it could just be the weed.
InterFACE is at www.pirate-radio.co.uk/interface
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