Hugh Griffiths

Hugh GriffithsI’ve been enjoying the services of B92 since 1997, back in the good old, bad old days when any mention of Big Brother on the station would have involved Orwellian-esque surveillance/ interference rather than the current crop of perfectly-groomed young candidates cavorting in the TV studio.

Back then there was no fancy website but a daily email news service full of taut summaries of dramatic developments that kept me up to date on the latest goings-on in the FRY. 

Back then, media reality seemed a precious commodity, footage of Tricky Dicky H. making nicey-nicey with Slobo, but somewhere in the background the X-Files TV series was telling us that “the truth was out there, somewhere….”.

For me in 1997, B92 was still a fundamental movement below, just beneath an urban skin that was screaming and ten years later on there’s less reality is dreaming on this channel than any other. 

So thank you for the memories, B92, the introductions, the friends, the interesting conversations and the free CDs. The underground may have gone overground, but it’s still wandering free and you remain a decade-long soundtrack worth listening to.