I’ve often wondered whether Chris Cary, technical wizard that he was, slipped some sort of subliminal mind-control signal into Radio Nova’s broadcasts. Obviously he didn’t — although it did seem like almost overnight everybody had retuned their receivers to Radio Nova.
That’s no exaggeration for effect by the way: shops, factory floors, nearly every home you visited had Radio Nova permeating the air. At one point, you couldn’t move around Dublin without knowing what was happening on the station.
Most of those receivers would only face retuning when Nova decided — or was forced by a very nervous state broadcaster — to change frequency.
Whenever I think of Radio Nova it goes something like this – Dublin in the late 70s and the turn of the decade was a dirty, grey, depressing place (through no fault of her own). Unemployment and the ravages of emigration affected every Dub in one way or another. But, when I think of the years when Radio Nova was at the top of her game then Dublin, in my mind, is a colourful, sexy beast of a place and outsiders knew it, desperate as they were to tune in to the station from remote locations. There was nowhere else like it on earth.
Emigration affected me personally too. I moved to London in the summer of 1984 and lasted six months, desperately homesick for friends, family and the familiar. In those days, long before instant gratification via the internet, it was extremely difficult to find anything from home.
I often tried to tune to Nova on MW, usually without success. Then one night, buried very very faintly in the background of a mishmash of signals, I heard the soothing sound of a Radio Nova jingle and was instantly transported home in my mind.
I remember that as vividly as anything else from my six months in a wonderful city — although, unfortunately, the racism I encountered there remains just as vivid.
I’ve often asked myself why I listened almost exclusively to Radio Nova. My musical tastes veer from the alternative and underground to the sublime — the sort of music that rarely featured on Nova, nor would I have expected it to. But listening back to the recordings archived here at Radiowaves, alongside the extensive collection at DX Archive, makes the answer obvious. Behind the microphones was a group of supremely talented men and women who loved what they did. When people are brilliant at their jobs and clearly enjoy doing them, that enjoyment becomes infectious.
To everyone who sailed aboard the good ship Nova, I salute you. I still hear many of your voices coming through my speakers on other radio stations. Talented as you remain, there was always something extra about those voices when they came from a Radio Nova frequency.
Perhaps it was the subliminal mind control after all!
As usual, what was meant to be a few words about Radio Nova has turned into a novel. I apologise.
This happens in conversation too, which may explain why I’m a loner. Never mind — I have my Radio Nova recordings for company!
*The Radio Nova Story* is now ready to be unleashed upon the world. Compiling it has been intense and emotional, but I hope you enjoy these pages. If you were around during the Nova years, I hope they transport you back to a truly magical era for Irish radio.
*Disclaimer: I do not actually believe Radio Nova transmitted subliminal mind-control signals—as if such a thing were even possible…*
John Fleming – Radiowaves fm
The Radio Nova Story was first published in March 2021 to mark the 35th anniversary of the (original) station's closedown.
The Radio Nova Story was given a polish and brush up with more materials added in 2026.