Radiohead

Technology is, on the whole, wonderful.  Take alarm clocks.  Once, an alarm clock was a clockwork thing with a couple of chimes and a hammer that, once a day, went off like a Haribo binging ADHD kid.

Then, advances in technology led to the alarm clock that buzzed, then beeped.

Then there was the apex of alarm clock technology, the Teasmaid.  The Teasmaid not only woke you up with a gentle buzz, but commenced boiling a little kettle at the same time, the idea being that you could have that all-important first cup of tea of the day without all the palaver of having to get out of bed.  This was liberation.  For those who sadly lacked butlers, it was a taste of what having staff was like, and for most, that tasted like PG Tips.

The next great leap sideways was the clock radio.  Instead of a bringggg, a buzz, a beep or a scalding jet of steam, you could be woken by a breakfast radio DJ, now probably safely locked up thanks to Yewtree, prattling nonsense in your ear.

Now, you can buy alarm clocks wake you by slowly increasing the level of light in the room whilst playing soothing sounds like the sea, or birdsong.  This is supposed to ease you into your day rather than provoke the natural reaction, which is to sit bolt upright screaming ‘what the fuck am I doing outdoors?’.

My alarm clock is set to Radio 4, because I like to go from peaceful sleep to enraged and in desperate need of tea as quickly as possible.

It is a habit that I am going to have to break, before I break the radio.  Radio 4 at breakfast time means the ‘Today’ programme and, frankly, I’ve reached the end of my tether with that particular show.  The presenters are so adversarial that my mental image of the studio is not some bland studio at Broadcasting House but a gladiatorial arena carpeted with blood soaked sand.

They really do seem to delight in getting their guests on, asking them a question, interrupting them, belittling them and then, just when the guest has managed to get into a full spluttering rage that promises entertainment, end the interview.  All of this before I’ve managed to wrestle myself out from under the duvet.

No more.  The internet has shown that there is a world wide web of listening choices out there.  Because that most modern of communication technologies, the internet, is revealing the true wonder and extent of that most traditional of communication technologies, radio.

Years ago, if you wanted to listen to radio from other countries, there were two ways of doing so.  You could set up a ham radio station in your shed and spend your spare time going up and down the dial, hoping that atmospheric conditions were such that a radio station in Minsk’s signal would bounce in your direction, or you could travel.

Not now.  I have an app that lets me listen to radio over the internet.  So far, so iPlayer.  But this app lets you browse by location.

Foreign radio is fucking brilliant!

By far my favourite is a Parisian station called Allouette.  Even the adverts are cool.  And DJs are so, so much more tolerable when you don’t understand a bloody word they’re saying.

But why stop there.  African radio is a hoot, as is South American.

And bloody hell, do the Americans love a bit of Christian radio.  In a way, it’s a no-brainer that Christians would have radio stations, it’s like being able to do missionary work without ever having to leave the trailer park.

And there’s so much of it.  I’ve decided.  My days of listening to grumpy old men interrupting one another are over.  No wonder the Today programme presenters are all so grumpy, they have to get up at four in the morning.  I’m going to start listening to radio from different time zones, so that when I’m getting up, I can listen to the mellow sounds of the ‘relax hour’ somewhere where it’s getting dark.  Alternatively, just listen to Radio 3, the most relaxed radio station on the planet at any hour.