'To us, Dood was never a mere radio station, it was a cover- up. It was about ideas, music was just an excuse. We were anarchists, but in covert ways, honest and naive. Our ideas may not have been that clear, but as it turned out they were. We started out as small and futile as possible, then quietly to evolve into something bigger. We thought of Radio Dood as some cancerous growth, which was finally to infect the whole of the Dutch body. A threat to all that we knew. Radio Kills, you see?'
Wolf.

Radio Dood ('Radio Death') was founded at the end of 1985, just before the dissolution of Amsterdam's squatters' and activists' movement of the 1980s. Dood thought of itself as a punks-only radio station, run by and directing itself at punk rockers. Things revolved around squats, bars and concert halls. The relationship to 'the movements'' political activists was an uneasy one to say the very least. Many of the squatters were probably never even aware of the existence of a Radio Dood during the one and a half years it did. The punx comprised a separate community within the movements' network, hardly touched upon by the bourgeois majority (and then mostly by way of conflicts).

In 1985, there were several other free radios operating from squats. De Vrije Keijzer was an exclusive activists' info station. In the Staatslieden district there was the Staatsradio, militant as to both its music and its information. Apart from this, during the same year a coalition of various groups gave rise to Radio 100, which focused on independent labels, reggae, world music, industrial, and on sound collage shows such as Rabotnik and DFM.

Since, as a 'movement within the movement', the punx had gained enough strength, the time seemed ripe to get a station of their own. Jan, together with Wolf (a.k.a. 'Pluimpje', or Tuftsy) and a technician, formed the threesome that was to get Dood off the ground: 'There was a riotous mood in the city, I liked it. I was rehearsing five days a week with this band, Human Exit, then with Take One In. We were incredibly intense super-hardcore. Wolf had asked me to join in on a radio station. Before long, we sat brainstorming every night. Wolf was into all this stuff, mysticism, letter reversal. I thought I could get my house to make some financial donations. Those squatters' assemblies are so gullible, so easy to get them going if you come up with the right idea. While the technician worked on the transmitter, Wolf and I went out recruiting. You know, just go by intuition: take to the street and pick someone.'

"I was 18 years old back then and a real punk rocker, the mohican, studded jacket and all. One day I was standing in Boudisque, the record store, going through some hardcore albums, when a guy approached me, asking, 'You're into punk rock then? Feel like doing a show for our radio station?'. Perplexed, I bought myself f60,- worth of records, went to the address he gave me and started a radio show. Never seen a microphone in my life, I've no idea what it sounded like, quite amateurish I'm sure. At first I named it 'Dr. Theopolis till 9', after this terrible science fiction series on TV which featured a talking lamppost by the same name. I soon got rid of that one, it was too dumb. Afterwards I was known as 'The beast with a last name', after a famous Dutch children's book called 'The beast without a last name'."
Bart.

Before Radio Dood, Wolf did a punk show for Staatsradio. 'We just brought in our records and put them on the air. During those shows, I came to see the potentialities of radio. I thought there must be way more to it. I was looking for a wider dimension than that of the Vrije Keijser, a broader, overall picture. Besides music and ideology, more experimentation was called for.' Vendex joined the station shortly after: 'Legend has it Radio Dood was founded by Hans Kok and Wolf. They did a show for Staatsradio, called Radio Dood. Apparently they moved to some secret location downtown, to start their own radio station with a transmitter they had just finished. By the time I joined them they were broadcasting three days a week, which eventually became four.' Yet, according to Wolf there was never much of an idea behind Dood. 'There was just this general discontent over the way things were being brought to attention. It was all too soft, too little. The whole situation of Amsterdam at the time held much more potential. I was anti-everything. Even the punks were too soft, so was the whole squatters' attitude. It was all so bearable. In the Staatsliedendistrict at the time, there were scores of evictions. 'We've gotta stop them, all of us as one body.' But no, everyone just abandoned their little flats, just like that, leaving everything to be demolished by the municipality. I couldn't stand it, they all just copped out. Things needed to get way harder, way hotter and much more hectic, a showdown with the lot, let the whole thing get out of hand.'

The function of radio had to be that of catalyst. The worse the better. It was time to let the general mood show. The final spark. Wolf: 'I thought radio was much more effective than magazines. If you'll excuse my expression, people were more easily herded by radio, I mean in our own devious ways. That's what I was after. Some said it was perverted to incite others to act, to rouse them from their slumber. I was hoping that after the death of Hans K. (in '85) [1], we'd have our own Rote Armee Fraktion, just like in Germany after the death of that student in 1967. The attacks by RaRa [2] were fine. The strange thing was, only RaRa did things like that. Squatters could have been much more of a threat. There were too many discussions. At the time it meant now or never. As it turned out, it was never.

The general outlook in Amsterdam was still solid by '85/'86, but Wolf and others felt things could be taken much further. Radio Dood did not aspire to becoming yet another part of the movement, not some cultural expression. Wolf: 'Punk had become another segment, in which nothing happened. After a gig, everyone would just go home in despair. We were afraid it would all peter out quietly.' Wolf and his gang had little to do with current activist themes. 'We were against actions supporting the South Africans or Nicaragua. While everyone supported all these distant causes, down here things were left to grind to a halt. I thought it was cowardly. I guess we should have infiltrated other groups, but we never did. We kept to ourselves.'

Jan did a show called 'Operation Slaughterhouse', together with Dood's technician. 'I wasn't the sort of politically minded squatter. All I wanted was this heavy punk station, no pretentions, perhaps provoke a few people. Before I started, I bought an incredible heap of records in order to have some recent stuff. Doing a show on speed, it comes out fast as anything, makes you feel like going for it. Only you get paranoid and chaotic if you overdo it.' Dood was more than just playing your albums or tapes. Jan: 'If there was some action going on, I would go there and stick in my mike. There was Melanoom, de Muur and Emma, I'd bring in my bit of equipment and tape these incredible gigs, which we then put on the air.'

Vendex did his 'Youth Resistance Show', one of the few programs to feature non-punk rock. 'I was more interested in general deviation and rebellion than in more defined areas such as punk or hardcore. During the mid-'80s you could still get away with playing sixties' rebel music, it wasn't a fashion yet. Thus I returned to pre-punk rebel music, such as early rock 'n' roll. I'm a great fan of 1966's music, when it seemed a change was at hand. Everything would be different, although noone knew what it would look like. This resulted in a freedom to go your own way. The year after, it was all over. After- wards there was nothing new, just a rehash of what had been thought up during the early 1960s. That Dutch Woodstock at Kralingse Bos, that wasn't youth resistance, it was youth commerce, financed by Coca Cola. Nowadays any cheap substitute of the 1960s will do, but not so in the Youth Resistance Show.'

Vendex had picked up the notion of 'resistance' in a discussion held in various punk zines during the early '80s, 'Does punk equal resistance?' On the one hand, there was the band Nitwitz who claimed that 'punk is an outing, having a beer with your friends'. On the other extreme end, there was the Rotterdam-based Mao-Communist fraction of the band De Rondo's and Raket publishers. They held that 'Punk=ReV.'. Vendex: 'The discussion went on for one and a half years and by the end of it they still hadn't figured it out. I believe that all civi- lisation comes from deviation. People need to go their own ways if there is to be any change in the world. A lot of bad things may come of it, but also the one good idea that everyone's been waiting for. Youth needs to be encouraged to get thorougly out of hand, some good old deviant behaviour. I believed in personal development.'

'Youth Resistance' featured Dood's best jingle; (orchestra) 'Yes folks, wouldn't it be great to play the guitar in a top ranking orchestra like that. Don't we all dream of it. Perhaps you've even tried to learn the old fashioned way, buy a guitar, get one of your neighbours to teach you the first three chords, and then - well, what? Trying to get there on your own, studying by yourself, listening to the others, jealously listening to and watching bands on telly. Another tune whist- led to those painstaking chords. (break) Ohhh Nooooo!... Dood Radio presents to you: the Youth Resistance Show. A spectacular game show with political resonances. Your host: Vendex. Offering the choicest pick of vinyl old and new, sure to inspire your spontaneous, youthful Dutch spirit.'

At the end of the show Vendex would read the codes of resistance. 'I received them in a sealed envelope every week, with which contents it was agreed I would not interfere. First there's the codes for various sectors, for instance North-North East 52 28 E. Then there's the key codes, such as 'Piet goes off to work'. I was trying to suggest a fifth column and luckily it worked. I prefer the notion of youth resistance to that of punk rockers, who, as the story goes, linked up with squatters to form the 'movement'. 'Youth resistance' sounds young, alive. Youth is in the best position to revolt, so tune in...'

David was asked by Jeroen. Together they started off 'Vox Christiana', after the Vatican label that published the Pope's speeches. Vox imitated christian beliefs. David: 'I grew up in a leftist artists' community, so after ten years of the same old slogans, you're up to something new. I started out by reversing one's own opinions, looking for negative means of expression, not the old raising of the finger. It's allright to voice your opinions, the thing is nobody gives a fuck. It's easy winding up women, minorities or people with different sexual attitudes, but the real aim after all is provocation of bourgeois society itself. Christianity is a good testcase. If you just rant and rave, they'll think: 'What's he on about?'. I would mix in leftist ideas as well: 'God opposes European Americanisation', a synthesis of communism and christianity, sure to cause a bit of confusion'. David bought a few Bibles, attended a mass gathering and studied christian rhetorics. Vox Christiana played hymns, childrens' choirs, speeches, Salvation Army records, mixed in with analog synthesizers, pure noise and no text. Music pro- duction started with David who took two small cassette recorders into the subway to make recordings, banging on a piece of metal, then cutting this up. At times they would take all the equipment with them to the studio and have 10 or 20 sound sources blaring at the same time.

'Whether you churn out pure and utter crap, as long as you have the right approach they'll love it - or they won't. I mostly had a good time. Dood offered me a means of expression. It was the show part I was into. Vox Christiana's highlight was a performance we did in the squatted Conrad- straat. I played a priest in long, green robes with wide sleeves, accompanied on both sides by priestesses and a backing band. It took just a few sentences to start them off, 'Dirty fascists', 'Fucking christians'. At the time I compared it to the outrage over Fassbinder's 'Der Mll, die Stadt und der Tod'. What you incorporate is a fascist's portrait, not a fascist, to which people fail to notice the difference. Which becomes impossible anyway, once you do a realistic impersonation. At Vox Christiana we balanced on that same thin edge of parody and pure imitation. As soon as you cross that line, it no longer makes any difference whether you're a christian or not. Your program is successful if some people see it as a good act, whereas others will wonder whether you've actually been converted.'
David.

Bart played later hardcore, Christ on Parade, Die Kreuzen, D.R.I., Dead Kennedys, tight, smooth punkrock. 'I'd discovered Iggy Pop just a few years before. From pre-punk, I went straight ahead with the new hardcore, since the old punk rock was obscure and no longer on sale. Radio Dood being a station of genre, we all favoured the same bands. Sewer Zombies and their track 'They died with their Willy Nelson T-Shirts on' were popular, a sort of chaos punk. Besides music, I'd have these jingles with bits of 'Theo & Thea''s and other childrens' albums. There was a tape you could order with Mad, called 'Mad minutes', with sketches on it that I would mix in.'

Wolf in his show 'Sick of Music' played exclusively the loudest, the hardest, and the shortest. Half of it was mixed back home, the rest was live improvisation. Wolf: 'In my view, I couldn't start up a song or it had to be finished. Halfway through I'd come up with the next one, saying, 'Shut the fuck up guys!'. Accompanied by nasty horror movie recordings, lots of screaming and yelling. Things that were out of line, no porn though. I was looking for a sonic hurricane. Horror and panic was what I was after. I wanted Radio Dood to be disgusting. 'I hate listeners' was one of those slogans. I set out to insult people. Even negative reaction is a form of action. I was well aware of when I'd go too far. Some slogans can be quite effective and hit straight home. We were not sexist, racist or fascist, simple as that. With me, there was no info, only insults, curses and a general raising of hell. 'Morning you mary jane junkies!' Passivity was all around and it needed to be combated, which I did in nasty ways. With good reason though, in my eyes.'

Negazione's 'Tutti Pazzi', the Dead Kennedys' 'Kill the Poor', the Sex Pistols' 'Pretty Vacant' or Sid Vicious' 'My Way'... songs that were definitely out according to Wolf. From a long line of punk hits he composed a sort of anti-charts, the 'Boring 20'. Wolf: 'It listed all those pass top-of-the-list groups. To outsiders, this was the real punk rock, but we thought they were far too regular. We were after more obscure stuff, something unlabelled. Punk was dead to start with really, it was declared so back in '77 and many times after. Only, the punks refused to go. An annoying situation. Then, Pop!, a punk radio even! Radio Dood happened at the end of the third punk wave and we did it because of our fear that punk rock would bleed to death, which by the way it did soon after.'

By the time of '85/'86, punk rock still hadn't become a trend or a fashion. Vendex: 'After Britain '76/'77, there was the international punk wave that spread across the world like ripples on a pond. Suddenly there was punk rock everywhere. British punk rock got more daft by the day. Then there was ska. Suddenly a thing called hardcore sprang up. They still practised real punk rock, people like Disorder, Discharge. Pure and uncut defeatism: there wasn't a band without some track titled 'Worldwar III' or 'Democracy', another 'I don't want to die in your war'. In '82 there was the Finnish wave, soon followed by the Italians, with bands like Negazione and Cheetah Chrome Motherfuckers. America took over, introducing new punk styles. Personally I favoured the Scandinavian welle. At first records were still being produced, but this turned out to be commercially unsuccessful. So, by '83/'84 you had the compilation cassette. Neighbouring bands would line up their demos, leaving as little blank spaces as possible. All hardcore accepted was a well-known slogan in the compilation ads. 'If it's hard and fast we'll include it'. A lot of bands made use of that. This way, by 1986 you saw these immense piles of independent punk records and compilation cassettes being produced, with this incredibly obscure fantastic music. The fact that Radio Dood played only punk and hardcore music may sound quite sectarian. But it was so marvelously specialised, that I have never since heard a station providing so thorough a study of the whole thing. Punk was never on radio. Most of its baptisement on the air was through Radio Dood. We've interviewed bands that had never seen a radio microphone in their life.' Besides punk rock, there was always a stack of dump albums ready for airplay, such as 'Robert Stolz in Vienna', Peter Kreutzer, 'The Very Best of Albert West', '13 roaring rocking hits', which were used for background noises. Repulsive music played in the hope that 'noone in his right mind would stay tuned to this'.

'Besides the person doing the show, there were always at least two more people in the studio, smoking joints and hanging around. The people I met with were punk rockers provi- ding for a uniform sound. There was reggae, but the guy was so out of it, after the second time he never showed up again. Johan Koecrandt, of the famous punk magazine, stuck out for being so awfully tidy. The microphone had to be picked up, spoken into and laid down again, producing a nice katanggg. Johan however would take off his scarf and place the microphone on top of it. Needless to say, Amsterdam's punk pope did a very good show.'
Bart.

Dood's motto was 'Listen Or Die'. Wolf's general spirit, deterring as many listeners as you can, found response. 'We are punks, you all suck, fuck you'. The same attitude was applied to Radio 100. Bart: 'Those guys had too much money to spend, too nice equipment, they were all headed for the public broadcasting services in Hilversum. Whenever we wanted to take the piss out of someone, it'd be Radio 100. They sucked, sad individuals doing sad radio.' Vendex: 'We even did these radio plays, 'Behind the scenes with Radio 100', in which we exposed the appalling abuse there: the incredible amount of money they had, DJ's being forced to take to Valium 10 or they wouldn't fit into 100's general format.' With Dood, the end was always near. Vendex: 'People got kicked out because they were so drunk they had completely wrecked the studio, they'd tear the needles from record players. For instance, I invite a singer in this band. Next, 30 people show up, pissed out of their minds, leaving the doors to the street wide open, with the radio noise blaring out. Sometimes you thought, today will be the end of it, Dood is finished. It gave you the energy to get that more fierce.'

There was a strong commitment by everyone involved to 'do it together'. Vendex: 'You'd spend full days building the studio, it was so lovely naive. Before us we see two individuals: one the manager, the other in charge of tools, quarreling over renovation procedures. Or take the illustrious idea of loca- ting the studio in the flooded basement. Perhaps 2 tons of sand were moved to the cellar fom a nearby garden, in buckets and barrows, to absorb the water with. The mud was then removed from the cellar. Half a year later, there were another 6 inches of water. Just get together and get at it, it was a nice training grounds.'

Wolf 'managed' Radio Dood. An unusual position in idealistic radio making, it was generally acknowledged as he did most of the work. Vendex: 'Radio Dood was expected to be out of it, if not for its half witted manager. Whenever Wolf gave radio producers shit, telling them it sucked, that they were no good, he meant for them to stand up to him. Most of them were put off by it however. He liked to shock people. He might start off his show with the words, 'Good evening every body, Heil Hitler'. To the squatters' scene at any rate, that was way past the limit.'

A meeting was held every two weeks, attended by the full staff. Wolf's dictatorial comments made everyone anxious to know what was going on. 'Will Wolf be dismissed...?' The meetings dealt with current affairs: how little money was in store, what equipment had broken down this time. A recurring theme was the question, 'Where's all the women?'. For there was never a single female DJ involved. Vendex: 'Perhaps because it was run by guys. We weren't looking for women just for the sake of it. But this was not done really. It never happened, except for Sow, who was Swine's girlfriend. There were female spirits present in the studio, but they never made themselves heard.'

In the summer of 1987, Radio Dood burst apart. The radio was doing well at the time. A new mixing desk and tape recorder had just been acquired. The breaking point was a fight between the manager and the technician, without whom there could be no broadcasting. Vendex: 'A manager like that knows everything about how to handle things, but nothing of electronics. For a long time I figured as an intermediary between the two of them. A new technician would not so easily be found. Every more often, Wolf would say: 'I built up this radio, I'll break it down as well'. The DJ's didn't like it a bit. Three or four of them came forward, saying, 'Manager? What manager?'. They'd kept to themselves until then, happy with the general state of affairs. A couple of people then gathered their breaths to tell him: 'Piss off then, we'll start off a new radio, us and the technician'. Wolf got angry, took the gear and left.' Bart: 'There was no trace of democracy during the meetings. Wolf was deaf to whatever arguments. There were two options: either things were done the way he wanted them, or there was a fight and nothing was done whatsoever. It got quite irritating in the end. We were so fed up with being bossed over, we decided to kick Wolf out. It couldn't have ended any other way. The joining factor linking the radio makers was gone. Two weeks later, Radio Dood was over.'

'At a certain point I let go of Dood. But the spirit was no longer there. I felt I had to take full charge again, but people weren't up to that. They told me: 'Wolf, you're out', to which I said: 'No, you're out'. To me, Radio Dood was no free ride. I made plenty of sacrifices for it, was lived by it. The others were too easy-going, there wasn't enough sweat. I wasn't after this mess, it just happened, whether you wanted it to or not: equipment got thrashed, people didn't show up at all or delayed. I was appalled with all the hash smoking going on. Radio Dood was never intended as some relaxed potheads' radio, trying to curb people's activities. We were a diverse crew: hard drug users, stoneheads, alcoholics, down to people who never even touched a cup of coffee. Despite the differences, there was much cooperation. Radio Dood formed a secret society, we belonged together, as members of a silent organi- sation. While everyone around us was keeping busy having a good time, we were making plans.' After Radio Dood's sudden departure, Wolf made renewed attempts at getting another station off the ground. The others eventually founded Radio Patapoe in 1989, after their involvement in the short lived VRO, or, in the Dutch, the 'United Revolutionary Broadcasting Services'. Wolf: 'In a way, Radio Dood fathered Patapoe. It turned out a decent little chap though. Patapoe is no longer a threat, it's nice and acceptable. Radio Dood was no fun, it was too anti, too lethal. Society didn't deserve Radio Dood.'
Wolf.

[1] For an account of the death of Hans Kok in a police cell after an eviction in the Staatslieden district, see ADILKNO: Cracking the Movement, Autonomedia, NY.'94.

[2] Radical Anti-Racist Action (RaRa, translatable as 'Guess Who?') carried out several effective attacks against companies supporting the South African Apartheid-regime. After the forced financial withdrawal of a warehouse chain (insurance companies refused to cover for any more of their departments burning down), they spawned the Dutch anti-Shell movement of the late 1980s.


Further references.....

BILWET Bewegingsleer, Ravijn publishers, Amsterdam, 1990. Published in the USA as ADILKNO, the foundation for the Advancement of Illegal Knowledge

Cracking the Movement. Squatting beyond the Media (tr. Laura Martz), Autonomedia, NY, 1994.

Theorie van de mix (on Radio Dood a.o.), in BILWET Media- Archief, Ravijn publishers, Amsterdam, 1992. English translation in Radiotexte, Autonomedia/Semiotexte, New York, 1993.

Translated from the Dutch @ P. Bey la-B/Ziekend Zoeltjes Produkties, Amsterdam, 1995