PJ Harvey - "Rub 'Till It Bleeds" [buy]
Can - "Vitamin C" [buy]

The door swung open. Steve was over six feet tall and had thick arms from all the tinkering he did: assembly, disassembly, rogue missions under the cover of night. He gave Ben a big hug.

"Your neighbour was giving me the stink-eye," Ben said.

"Ah," Steve waved his hand dismissively, "they all think I'm dealing." He laughed and led Ben up the stairs.

"I didn't know the station was back up and running until I heard it coming from a chip truck downtown," Ben told Steve.

At the top of the stairs they turned left and into a double room in an intricate state of disarray. Piles of records leaned against every wall and the room was criss-crossed with wires. In one corner was a long table covered in turntables, amps, and tape decks.

"That's amazing. I didn't think our signal was broadcasting that far north." Steve held up a finger as he sat down at the table and pulled a pair of headphones up to his right ear.

The song playing on a nearby speaker faded out in a swirl of distortion as Steve grabbed a microphone and pulled the crossfader. "You're listening to CSIC, Seasick Radio, and that last cut was 'Rub 'til It Bleeds' by the brilliant PJ Harvey. Next up we're going to go deep into another world," Steve hit the reverb switch and his voice went wobbly.

Steve had explained to Ben how this whole pirate radio station worked. To him it was all child's play, plugging one thing into another and another, and then shimmying up the side of a building and installing a rigged-up broadcast tower. Nothing to it, Steve said, but Ben was in awe. It was all magic to him.

"Our guides on this journey," Steve continued his intro, "are the one and only German funkateers. Ladies and gentleman. Here is Can." His reverby voice left off as the first intricate drumbeats of the song faded in.
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RIP Jaki Liebezeit