"My access to music when I was growing up was through pirate radio, you know, transistor radio under the pillow, listening to one more and then 'just one more' until your favourite track comes on"

Robert Palmer’s memories of discovering music reveal a nostalgic snapshot of a particular era, when access wasn’t immediate or unlimited. Pirate radio, operating outside official licenses and regulations, functioned as a beacon for generations seeking music that mainstream broadcasters deemed too risky, too new, or too controversial. Through pirate radio, listeners connected with subcultures, contemporary trends, and voices that weren’t part of the established order. Such stations often had erratic schedules and sometimes weak signals, which made catching favorite songs unpredictable and exciting.

Palmer’s mention of the transistor radio under his pillow speaks not only to the portability and personal nature of these devices in their heyday, but also to the ritual of clandestine listening. For many, especially teenagers subject to parental rules about bedtime, the simple act of tucking a radio beneath the pillow each night became a private, rebellious ceremony. Sound would filter through the speaker, sometimes clear, sometimes muffled, creating an intimate connection between listener and broadcaster. The phrase “one more and then ‘just one more’” captures the seductive, addictive pull of music, especially when delivered by a voice and playlist slightly forbidden, always unpredictable.

The longing for a favorite track, the delayed gratification, heightened the experience. The anticipation was its own thrill: with no streaming, playlists, or infinite skips, every song could potentially be the song, a favorite, a new discovery, or a rare play. This process forged a different relationship to music, one defined by patience, dedication, and surprise. Palmer’s recollection conveys not just nostalgia for the music itself, but for the media environment, a world built around scarcity and excitement, where illicit airwaves could shape identities, tastes, and lifelong memories. That kind of listening, fraught with longing and discovery, imprinted music as not just sound, but as experience.