The number nine has a deeply personal meaning for me- it's the most number of pints I have ever drunk in a pub before anyone admitted to recognising who I was. It was a real hoot trying to blend in and be 'normal', but pretty embarrassing for some of the crowd who witnessed me not quite reaching the toilet before being sick in a nearby umbrella.
Well, so fucking what.
They had asked for the appearance of danger and anarchy when we originally sold out, sticking it to the man on the then Munition Worker's Medium Wave National Broadcasting Wavelength Station.
Eventually, a new name was schemed up by none other than the scarily brainy Mike Read. 'One FM on Medium Wave' was truly born, and the teenage revolution could finally go coast to coast in over 6000 staggering roadshows, featuring a grand total of 4 different DJs over 27 sensational summers.
And who were they, these nutters of the airwaves? Yours truly, of course, the exceedingly bonkers DLT, Mike Reid, and then some jumped up little cunt who shall remain nameless here.
Nine is also, incidentally, the number of years that I think drug dealers should go down for if caught, at the very minimum. Scum!
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