Top 40 moment


The BBC World Service was scrambled for years in communist Bulgaria. A valid reason to listen to it religiously.
Every Monday my 14-old self would crouch over my red Sanyo cassette recorder, a pen and paper in my hand. Waiting for the UK Top 40 chart to fill the ether. I had to tilt the red box up and down continuously in order to get the signal right. And then my hand would start transcribing the scrambled sounds laboriously.

"This week's highest climbers are...". I remember my fascination with the expression "highest climber". It sounded so British!
And then...quicksticks...write it all down before the signal vanishes again:
EMF Unbelievable, Crystal Waters Gypsy woman, Maria McKee Show me heaven... At the end of the show my neatly-written list would be resting on my bed next to me as a solemn proof.

The next day my friend Plamen and I would bring our lists to school and double check them. Spelling was not always my forté. Was it Unchanged or Unchained melody? We would argue about it for a while. Then we'd announce the list to our classmates triumphantly.

Once in a while, the divine providence (read: a penpal from the United Kingdom) sent us an issue of Smash Hits or Q magazine. A yelllow envelope coated with bubble paper on the inside.
Elaborate decadence. The smell of Western Europe.
The names of the bands and tracks materialised on the glossy paper of Smash Hits. And gave us another incentive to listen to UK Top 40 with yet more ardour the week after...

You see, the radio was pretty much alive back then. The World listened and so did we. Despite the intrferences in the air.
The noise and distortion drilled my ear. Fighting to stay on the right frequency fine-tuned my hearing.

My long list of Thank You's will follow.

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