Orlando techno station

In the hall he scrawled Payne's slogan of the moment, "When shit gets live, real friends stick together. You know who you are. On the floor, in orange paint, another slogan: "Shit's real and it only gets realer.

The offices sometimes become the hangout for young people with nothing to do. Women wearing tight blouses and jeans will wait around to talk to DJs. Yet most of the sexual tension can be found on-air. Several weeks ago, DJ Dakoowan hung up on a female caller who claimed to be 16 and extremely horny. Within minutes, a man alleging to be 21 was on the phone begging for a date.

Special Ed, the DJ who answered the call, is married. So he told the girls to call back in 10 minutes when the next DJ would be available -- especially if the women were attractive. Most of the sexual chatter occurs on Payne's show, mainly because he is more talk-show host than DJ.

The first question he often asks of hip-hop celebrities is how many white chicks are they banging. He asks women to sleep with him. If he becomes angry at them, he calls them bitches, whores or sluts, and has threatened to beat them with a baseball bat. Guys are called "shorties. Several weeks ago Payne, as NSX, took a call from a woman who said she'd pulled over in a rainstorm to cheer him up.

At the time, Payne was bummed out because he'd received news that a buddy was in jail. The woman, who had a sexy-as-hell voice, seemed receptive to NSX's come-ons. But wouldn't you know he blew it. He began crooning a love song about the romance he wanted to give her -- Vaseline and anal sex.

He asked a visitor in the DJ booth to supply the "da-da-dum" background vocals. Several listeners, anxious to help, called in singing, too. The woman laughed but told NSX anal sex was out. About the only thing you can't say on 95Live is "the F word.

It can be sung, however. A cannabis song making the rounds right now has a female voice singing the refrain, "fuck you," over and over. But instead of giving us our props, what do people talk about? Mainstream broadcasters hate pirate radio because the upstarts get to break all the rules, including not having to pay the Federal Communications Commission for licensing. Yet 95Live does have the occasional listener among corporate Orlando radio.

It's some crazy, crazy stuff. Some of us corporate people wish we could do that stuff, but we can't. We don't want to get those [FCC] fines. There's a lot of profanity; that's why kids love it. That's what it is, freedom.

There's no handcuffs. They are the WWF of radio. Like a pro wrestler, a rap star or a "Jerry Springer" guest, Payne is willing to take on nearly everyone. Even successful recording artists get little respect, especially when they fail on their promise to make in-station appearances, as De La Soul and Common did on July Payne warned them several times. Then he played a bit by comedian George Carlin: "I think that if white people are going to burn down black churches, then black people should burn down the House of Blues.

What a fucking disgrace that place is. You're the only station blazing the music. In some ways, respect is more important to Payne than money. Respect is what drove him into radio in the first place. Several years ago he was shopping around his self-produced single, "Cherish the Day. He set up in his apartment in a gated community near Orlando International Airport. Payne's watt transmitter barely reached across the city, the antenna having been placed up a pine tree outside his window.

When neighbors eventually complained, he moved the station to a Rosemont apartment complex where Abdul lived. The two kept jacking up the antenna on top of Abdul's apartment building until their signal reached Altamonte Springs. By then residents of that complex also were complaining. It seems 95Live was blasting through the television cable lines.

According to Orlando police detective William Moore's report, Payne received stolen credit-card numbers from a former girlfriend and used them to purchase antenna equipment and power supplies.

Moore wrote that while he waited, Payne called a friend, who returned the equipment from the radio station to Payne's apartment. In March, Payne pleaded no contest to two third-degree felonies: possession of a stolen credit card and scheming to defraud a business. Says Payne: "I'm not going to cry over it. He wasn't some petty thug, just somebody trying to start a business. Come at me correct. While his case was being worked out, Payne traveled to Miami with Abdul to begin a pirate station there.

In Miami, the two blended in well. Miami has a history of radio pirates, with the FCC shutting down more than 20 low-watt stations over the last several years. It wasn't long, however, before homesickness drove them back north.

Orlando, with all of its small-time ambitions, started to look better and better. But instead of returning to the outskirts of Orlando, they wanted to relaunch 95Live in the heart of downtown, where everything was happening.

They could look out of their second-floor window and comment on the passersby walking below. For six months, the pirate station was running smoothly. Lazy K, Tracy Lee, Cap 1 and other rap, jungle and techno artists dropped by for in-station appearances.

As 95Live DJs like to boast, the station doesn't just play records, it breaks them, meaning listeners hear artists on 95Live before they appear on other stations. They play artists like 50 Cents, Track Masters, Nature and Major Figures -- people unknown to many in the hip-hop community until they were heard on 95Live. Until February, 95Live was on the air 24 hours a day. It seemed incredible that a group of young people could so flagrantly break the law for so long.

It was like having a house party on the steps of City Hall. Every night. With Glenda Hood sleeping in her office. On Feb. It was early in the morning, the bars just closing.

A 95Live staff member named Brad stood on Pine Street, catching young women on their way home and diverting them to the station's second-floor studio. At about 2 a. For whatever reason, Andel and Mattox entered "the locker room" without Petrick.

Payne immediately remembered seeing them walking on Pine Street earlier. Problems with listening in Google Chrome? Report this issue using our Broken Link page or send an email to info radioguide. Listen radio Listen radio Listen radio. Techno Radio Florida. Add to Favorites No sound? Email address Will not be shown. Popular radiostations in USA Florida 1. Trending radio stations in USA Florida.

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When they came, they were just guys from Manchester who had made a bunch of tracks that were big in our clubs here. At Marz, we had a lot of other bands like the Chems with a very similar sound, as well as future local stars Rabbit in the Moon. I think what we can look back on now about all this, including the Chemical Brothers gig was that we, as a scene, were really on it, forward-thinking and a leading light in the electronic scene.

I remember people being generally psyched about it, more so than I recall for any electronic music act. It was that show where the promoters, clubs and club-goers realized there was something magical happening and that those kinds of shows could draw thousands.

Many people said it was Disney that thought it was bad publicity for family-friendly Orlando and forced the city to do something. Ironically, it was a time when acts like the Prodigy, Chemical Brothers, Moby and Fatboy Slim were breaking the mainstream. One overdose or death was bad enough, but because the numbers of people going to these events and clubs had grown so much, it was only a matter of time until things got out of hand. People were leaving clubs at 9 a.

She definitely was all about stopping the movement. Funny, how it happened right when Downtown Disney was opening. Funny, how it was about the same time that the Navy base was sold. Their personal agenda and their country club cronies had no business with what was happening while they were tucked away in their fancy beds. The daytime is for day people and the nighttime is for night people, period. I knew something was going to go down when kids started to stumble into my store during the day completely out of their heads just to shop and listen to records.

While that happens with any sort of alternative culture — not just dance music — city and state officials can let a lot of things slide as long as a scene is policing itself and keeping things as discreet as possible. I think if the clubs would have kept doing events, but closed them early, at 3 a.

That turned out to be OK, because the following day, DJ Sandy and I went to Firestone like we did every Thursday, and the moment we walked in the door, management took us upstairs and hired us on the spot. I think there started to be more distractions within, and with that, I think, a bit of decay over time.

Not only did a lot of great DJs and producers come out of this scene to be recognized internationally, but quite a few industry heavy-hitters including myself and Paul Morris [head of booking agency AM Only, started in Gainesville in and currently books clients including Skrillex, Boys Noize, AraabMuzik, Disclosure, Bauer, Sasha and many more] have left our marks on the dance music business as we know it today. Orlando indeed was an epicenter, but it seems to me much of the memory of that, in terms of national awareness, has been washed away.

A whole new generation is creating their legacy now. The Edge: Located at W. Livingston Street currently home to H2O Church and open from early to the summer of , the Edge started life as an alternative rock club, hosting early-career shows by the likes of Pearl Jam, Nine Inch Nails, Blur and many others. Thanks to the efforts of DJ Icey, these rock shows were complemented by after-hours dance nights, which would often kick off around midnight and go until the very early morning.

Due to its large capacity, the Edge also hosted enormous raves on holiday weekends that would often draw thousands of attendees. Club Firestone: Located at N. Orange Ave. Beach Club: Located at 70 N. Focusing on breaks, bass and electro, it launched the careers of resident DJs Stylus and D-Xtreme and presaged a vibe that a procession of smaller clubs would emulate. We welcome readers to submit letters regarding articles and content in Orlando Weekly.

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