Since Duncan’s TV blew up a decade ago he’s not replaced it. He has a radio in every room. As a kid Radio 4 voiced over his family’s mornings. His dad shaved, dressed and joined a conveyor belt of suited men stretching from the end of their street to Worcester Park station. In the evening he would raid his dad’s record collection and fill the house with music, his mum complaining ‘it goes straight through me’. Duncan said it was meant to, that this was the music working. When he moved into the city at 19 the radio dial was solid with east London pirate radio stations, no longer a series of crackles occasionally punctuated by a plummy voice. The radio he took with him was his dads, it sits on his bookshelf today and still provides the sound track to his day.

11 Nov 2012