TD 1
Ever since Heinrich Hertz proved the existence of
radio waves in 1896 – predating, by two decades, the first public transmission cast by Canadian inventor Reginald A. Fessenden – the ubiquity of radio, bringing us through banal blocks of our daily routines, is unequivocally one of the most essential developments in history. For well over a century, it has provided generations with a vital portal of discovery and escapism as a vessel of communication, entertainment and information. This aspect has remained constant since the early 1900s, even when faced with competing technological advancements of the 20th century: television and mobile phones. The latter, to a large extent, has enhanced our relationship with radio by making it possible to listen to stations on-the-go or catch-up with shows at a later date. Unfortunately, in Ireland, there’s a significant disparity between what audiences want to hear over the airwaves and what domineering mainstream commercial media outlets produce. This ultimately translates to a feeling of dissatisfaction on the behalf of the listener. Many listeners of Irish radio would hold the belief that little effort is made in programme diversity or facilitating fresh voices over the airwaves in an industry at the behest of long-serving gatekeepers. In recent years, alternative broadcasting has suffered drastically from lack of funding and a change in listening habits illustrating a pivot towards the endless choice and convenience of podcasts and audiobooks. Driving home from Open Ear Festival in 2016, Sean Finnan and Brian McNamara conversely toyed with the idea of starting their own station, having been frustrated by what they heard emanating from the car radio. Four years on, Dublin Digital Radio is one of the city’s most valued cultural entities. As a source of promoting and nurturing underground artists – typically cast on the fringes of the music scene – as well as advocating for vital social issues affecting the city. Since it launched in October 2016, the station, known acronymously as DDR, lists just under 130 residents on their site, is operated by a dedicated group of volunteers, has organised countless events to unite Dubliners to lobby governmental bodies for reform on pressing issues, and continues to captivate an ever-growing listenership. It’s the breadth of what DDR stands for that makes it so much more than just a go-to digital destination to discover the latest electronic music. There’s a general consensus that this independently run body has developed a community for those on the outskirts of society. The smell of fresh paint lingers in the air when I visit DDR’s new HQ in The Complex on a windy February evening. The move from their former home in Jigsaw was prompted by the venue’s tenuous future in a Dublin transformed by large corporations planting homogeneous structures stealing the city’s identity. This led the team to seek out vacancies in artistic spaces which met their specific requirements, as far back as 2018. Once confirmation was made with a prospective location, the process leading up to the move – which included a fundraising campaign – happened relatively quickly. Three members of the extensive DDR family, Emily Carson, Glenn O’Brien and Barry Owens, welcomed me to their newly constructed studio, which at that point had been operational for approximately ten days. The arts centre itself recently relocated a couple of meters down the road from its original spot amongst Dublin’s fruit and vegetable markets. Over two floors, The Complex has an array of residents from costume designers, fine artists and composers for film occupying studio spaces with ample room for events and exhibitions, also. DDR’s corner in the former fruit ripening factory, in what used to be a fridge, is a compact rectangular shaped room divided into a co-working area, meeting space and, crucially, a soundproof studio. In their cosy studio, you’ll find an elongated table with equipment displayed like an audiophile’s version of Da Vinci’s The Last Supper, swapping out plates of food for decks and monitors. Over the course of the evening, the trio were extremely forthcoming in sharing the station’s trajectory from the early days tucked away in Jigsaw’s Belvedere Court spot to their excitement ahead of the inaugural Alternating Current Festival, which they’ve organised with Tiny Cosmos and Enthusiastic Eunuch in The Sound House, this month. We spoke extensively about how DDR exists through an ever expanding rotation of volunteers (“It’s really hard for one person to count the number of people volunteering at any one time,” says Barry) and about their aspirations for the rest of the year, now that the dust has settled following an already busy start to the decade (“We’re trying to formalise our structure, we want to be seen as a credible alternative to mainstream radio,” Carson affirms). We begin at the start, with DDR co-founder Brian McNamara gaining invaluable experience with a Berlin-based community radio station during a stint in one of Europe’s most creative and inspiring cities. His time there made the prospect of bringing something framed upon this model to Dublin a less daunting feat. Equipped with the knowledge of setting-up a digital station, as opposed to a pirate one, the timing of the body’s foundation coincided with a period where going digital was “a lot more accessible,” as Carson, who has been heavily involved in the behind-the-scenes strategical organisation of the station, suggests. Supporting this claim, Glenn O’Brien, host of Just A Blip and an architect by day (O’Brien drafted the plans for the studio upon viewing the space), recalls the abundant landscape across the capital’s underground scene prior to the station’s existence. “It felt like there was a lot of music being made in Dublin at the time.” He continues, “The city needed something for everyone to flock to and [DDR] solidified this whole community that was waiting to develop and when it did it gave everyone an anchor.” Establishing a community of like-minded individuals was an integral motivation from the start. As a leading figure in the software team, Barry Owens remembers his impromptu introduction at the crucial point when plans were quickly turning into reality. “Brian contacted me the week before the launch party, which he wanted to stream live via the site,” Owens recalls. “He was having trouble with the website and asked if I’d be able to make one in the space of three days! Of course, I said yes. On the first day of broadcasting, there was just a big circle in the middle of the screen that you’d click and it played whatever was streaming. On the night of the launch in Jigsaw, I made my way there with my headphones on, listening to the party. When I eventually walked into the room there was loads of people enjoying the song I’d just had playing in my ears. That was the first time I realised how deadly this was,” he smiles. ➝ What distinguishes DDR from previous iterations of pirate or digital radio is that it’s not just a bunch of DJs with a show. 46