On air Wednesday 24.07.19 from 19h until 21h
Probably the last one with a ‘19’ for those of us born last century.
Earthlings who lived the 80s, wireless communication was ‘normal’ social behaviour, ‘conversation’ using talk and body language, no strings attached, free from charge.
Communication took place in a room, at the table, on a terrace or in the park.
The park where we liked to skate all summer and felt free and liberated … no schoolwork no teachers no parents ….. how we wished those days would never end. Youngsters passionately pushing boundaries and surfing the early waves of a deadly high 70’s U-pipe or the quarter-pipe that got vandalised by Mods one night. Dayz later we could still see the reflecting sunbeams in the chipped teeth on the red concrete floor. A crater in the platform caused a hookup and made ‘De Wout’ smash his face… tufff one! For some reason that I never clearly understood, there was a gang kinda thing going on between Mods and Skaters …..silliness….reached hilarious heights when Zotte Mark bought himself a scooter and attached all the mirrors he could possibly lay hand on. He once biked all the way to the towerskates skate-shop naked, where we paid him a new board in return.
He deserved his name!
Breakdancers would drop by, layout and land their vinyl carpet to spin heads and freeeze.
Pumping Loud Hip-Hop through the speakers of a shiny oversized GhettoBlaster … (GhettoBlasters are never oversized)
…, breakdancing, bodypoppin, the electric-boogie, displayed during friendly battles.
JoBo would encourage his pupils to showoff their skills and tricks and he himself was tha Master of Streetdance.
One day Big Ben would bring a backpack filled with spray-cans and write a colourful Piece on one of the walls while Alien popped the first kick-flip we ever witnessed on his Natas.
Duck would trade his board for spraying and the whole park turned into a colourful work of art.
The days were countless, the hours numberless, unless you stood on one of the benches to overlook the freshly cutdown bushes in order to spot a red digital clockwork on one of the buildings across the street.
So far for finding out what time it was…
Hell… we knew what time it was,
OUR TIME !!!!
Now what have we got?
No need to be missing the days of old.
I am digesting the memories and happily breathing the smoggy present!
When I currently cross the skatepark that rightly replaced the old one, I feel the thrill like ever before and I’m happy to witness the playfulness even bigger than it ever was.
In this same garden, a Grand Café replaced an old Nightlife memory.
And this new place has a basement ….
It might be worth the try I say to myself.
Let’s take it underground.
How about?? … we bring on the music and those of you who wanna share time and sweat, bring your asses to do tha work out on a fresh basement dance floor during what is predicted to be one of this summers hottest nights.
Refreshing?? Nope! Hot as Hell!!!
And “once you enter, it becomes OUR house and OUR house music!”
Next stop 27/07
Stads Park underground.