In the late 2000s, it felt like London's underground music culture started to change. Types of music that were played in clubs began to fuse, and DJs seemed to become more open about playing different sounds rather than sticking to one for their entire set. In bygone days of NYC clubs like Paradise Garage and The Loft, or the Balearic clubs which inspired Acid House you would hear all kinds of music on a dancefloor, often played by one DJ. But from the mid-1990s onwards clubbing in the UK became a lot more regimented with many clubs sticking to one straight sound for a whole night.

We saw the rise of dubstep blending the rawness of grime with UK Garage and eventually; techno. Followed by its subsequent collision with the disjointed, but musically-advanced beat sounds emerging from LA, Glasgow and across Europe. Everything was being accelerated by daily communication and constant sharing of music over Myspace. Labels like Hyperdub, Hessle Audio, Werkdiscs and Numbers documented this evolution in real-time releasing records that captured the musical fluidity of the era.

Nowhere in London felt more pivotal to this period of time than Shoreditch's Plastic People - a fairly small, dimly lit basement club at the top of Curtain Road. Despite its reputation for having unmatchable sound quality, it never felt like there were any frills. The bar staff were low key, the toilets were typically grimey and the audio gear looked rugged and slightly battered. Even after the refurb in 2010 it still felt very simple and not remotely glamorous.

There was a strong community around the club. Beyond the well-documented, now legendary nights which typified the music policy like FWD>>, Co-Op and CDR you had a re-occurring cast of regulars, door staff and bouncers who kept the whole thing together. You would see some of the same faces any night of the week, regardless of who was on the line up or what style of music was being played.

It was a place where you could absorb a wide assortment of sounds, many of which you simply could not hear anywhere else. An evening at Slim Athletic's Tomorrow's World party, club owner Ade Fakile's Balance or Theo Parrish's monthly residency would be an exercise in opening your mind to the different types of music that can work a dancefloor. The experience of hearing Darkstar by Crosby, Stills & Nash played at high volume on that soundsystem at 3am will stay with you forever.

Amongst this range of parties playing interesting and varied music was Nonsense - an event hosted by Judah, Benny Blanco, Josey Rebelle and Mr Wonderful (aka Femi Adeyemi). It felt like this party was the community of people who inhabited Plastic People the most and eventually formed the foundations for the birth of NTS Radio in 2011.

Taking shape in a roughly 2x5 metre hut on Dalston's Gillett Square with a Jerk chicken shop on one side, and an Ethiopian barber shop on the other - NTS was about community from the very beginning. The square played host to a range of colourful characters from all walks of life, and was a place where people just enjoyed passing time. Situated right next to the Vortex club, with Servants Jazz Quarters just on the edge of the square and Eldica Records around the corner, the surrounding area was rife with music. Not to mention the near-constant blare of at least one person's boombox permeating the air at any time. In summer it was always a hive of activity with skateboarders, local families and trendy Dalston kids mixing with everyday square dwellers late into the night. It's how I imagined Washington Square Park in New York must have been like in the 90s.

The early team who created NTS gave it a strong DIY aesthetic and put together a roster of DJs that reflected London at the time. The line up featured people representing many different backgrounds, music tastes and appearances. Whilst FM stations like Rinse or Resonance also featured a range of hosts across different types of music, they seemed to offer less variety and feel a bit less personal. Of course London also has a galaxy of pirate stations offering a spectrum of sounds should you explore the dial, but the signal is usually patchy, and you need to be close enough to their antenna to feel part of the listenership.

London had never had a community-based, DIY internet radio station like Dublab in LA and was probably waiting for someone to cater to an audience with more diverse tastes. The rise of social media helped to quickly expand the station's reach to listeners further afield, and the trademark portraits of hosts captured in Gillett Square gave NTS an identity which its audience could relate to both visually and sonically.

My own association with NTS began with covering the original breakfast show host Marsha during the station's first year. I was drafted in by my mate Sam Cunniffe who I knew from my days behind the counters at Sounds of the Universe and the Amersham Arms who was one of the early staff. The studio was very basic in those days; just a DJ set up with a table on the side for the broadcasting gear and a framed photo of Tupac on the wall. The equipment was gradually upgraded over the years and they had better fixtures built, but the vibe in the studio never really changed much from that first visit.

Later that year I worked with them on an event I produced to launch Hackney Downs Studios and started getting to know the core team running the station. A lot of my friends were doing shows themselves and I was regularly called upon for guest appearances. Notable mentions include playing alongside Japanese musician ICHI for his live performance on the Kit Records show, my tribute mix to Daevid Allen from Gong, and the Pride of Gombe special on Mr Beatnick's show alongside Lukid, Kelpe, Samoyed and Luke Owen (Death is Not the End).

During 2015 I did two shows which brought my involvement into sharper focus, a mix of all Japanese music from the 1980s for Mr Beatnick, and a show to commemorate the release of my Diet of Germs EP where I first met Elena Colombi who produced the show. We bonded over the records I was playing and became friends instantly. It was incredible to watch Elena's meteoric rise to become one of the most in demand DJs in Europe and most beloved NTS residents - they remain one of my closest friends to this day.

Meeting people and making friends through the station was super common and underlined the sense of community around the studio. In addition to the inevitable gassing with the producer and station staff, you'd always have a nice crossover chat with the DJ before and after your slot. I'd often find myself hanging around the square for hours after my show had finished.

The station manager Fergus McDonald offered me a regular slot on Friday mornings from 8-9am before Charlie Bones' breakfast show. I lived about five minutes cycle away from the studio and would stop by and do the show on my way to work in Shoreditch (at onedotzero - directly opposite Plastic People). I was given my own key and would open up for the day and switch on all the gear. It was quite nerve racking for the first few times as I always worried if I'd started the stream properly and if anyone could hear what I was playing on air, fortunately the chatroom always had my back.

Due to the time of day, I started off the shows really gently, often playing a lot of ambient music, environmental sounds and folk music. I felt like it was my responsibility to ease listeners into their day, and align my selections with the collective mood. As the show progressed I'd slowly increase the energy and incorporate a wider range of sounds but never really ventured into dance music or anything too groove-based. But Charlie was almost always late so I often played a few bonus tracks of a livelier nature at the end.

From the beginning I saw each episode as an opportunity to create a graphical accompaniment and slowly established a visual identity for the show. Early flyers involved a lot of handdrawn elements, and analog processing but the techniques used diversified over time, often incorporating the use of 3D design and photography as a starting point. The use of found and archival media provided an excuse to collect more 2nd hand artifacts in addition to my already indulgent record and tape buying habits.

I had an opportunity to move to Tokyo for work the following year, which ushered in a new relationship with the show due to my distant proximity from the studio. Not having my own set of turntables to hand meant that I'd need to find a place to pre-record the show each month which ranged from empty clubs, friend's apartments, pay-by-hour music studios and the Red Bull Tokyo offices. It was far trickier to coordinate than rolling down to Dalston on my bike with a bag of records.

Despite the logistical challenges, the change of environment allowed me to shine a light on the various talented, creative people that I was meeting as I settled into the city. Weekly visits to the Ideala event on Thursday nights at Forestlimit fuelled my inspiration as I feasted my ears on the incredibly rich, and unique music played by its residents. It eventually became an outlet for myself to play records freely to an open-minded crowd who listen with purpose.

It's well known that Tokyo's listening bars and record shops are second to none, and the radio show gave me a platform to air my discoveries whilst pushing me to dig further and deeper. Frequent trips overseas for work provided many incredible record buying moments across the globe. My time spent in Amsterdam loitering at the Red Light Records & Radio complex was a source of many great memories and musical experiences.

The pandemic had a big impact on the show given the sensitivity required when broadcasting to the general public, and subconsciously documented my own feelings during that period. With a listenership experiencing such difficult times it felt important to take a more delicate approach. Fortunately I was able to record shows at home and guest mixes were mostly sent to me as pre-recordings. The act of preparing the show by myself in my small Tokyo apartment naturally brought more of a personal touch, but felt like a far cry from the energy and atmosphere of the NTS studio. I missed the feel of playing the show live and the back and forth interactions with the chatroom.

As the world changed over my seven years of doing the show, so did the way that fans and listeners interact with music. Like any organisation in the field of youth culture, NTS adapted and as their influence grew around the globe it naturally felt quite different from the DIY operation that emerged from the underground. It was incredible to watch the station grow into the professional, highly influential, globally-renown cultural powerhouse that it is today.

After a while I began to feel like I'd said all I wanted to say with radio, and was seeking a different relationship with music after spending so long hearing it with my monthly show in mind. I decided to call time on the show at the end of 2022 and finished my residency with a show featuring a 17 year old DJ and producer from New Zealand called Benny Salvador.

My time as an NTS host comprises some of the best years of my life, and the relationships that I built either through the station, or by putting together my show are meaningful and lasting. The station became a blueprint for internet radio all over the world and continues to inspire millions of listeners globally. I'm grateful to have been involved, and proud I was able to contribute a small part towards it.

Shoutouts:

Check out the full archive of Adam's show on the NTS website.