Tim Sweeney‘s landmark of alternative music culture

Though he’s now a touring DJ in his own right, radio has always been the focus for Sweeney. Through the “eye-opening” experiences of raves and the boundary-less approach of London pirate radio, a young Sweeney became enamoured with the feeling of tapping into a wealth of music he simply couldn’t hear anywhere else. Moving to New York from his Baltimore home at the age of 18, he first hit the waves of WNYU 89.7 as an NYU freshman in 1999, playing a mixture of Mo’ Wax and early Warp Records. Strikingly determined, at the same time he also began interning for celebrated hip-hop DJ and radio jock Steinski, and it wasn’t long before Sweeney would make another important acquaintance.

After meeting Tim Goldsworthy at New York’s Plant Bar, he began helping out in the studio as a production assistant, just prior to Goldsworthy starting DFA Records alongside James Murphy. This had an undeniable influence on Sweeney’s formative years, and as that heady mixture of house, disco and post punk began to dominate New York dance floors, giving both the city’s nightlife and the Beats in Space ratings a significant boost along with it, Sweeney would head out on tour with the “DFA family”. As he tells me as we’re sat in a cosy Bristol pub, where he’s already spent the day with Goldsworthy, “I was 10 years younger and really excited to be out on the road with these guys, it was amazing to see how excited people were to see DFA at the time. I couldn’t believe I was there.”

But times change, and the rapid ascent of the label had a tangible effect. “The thing that sucks was that it was so tight knit then, and people get bigger and bigger and it’s not tight anymore,” he explains, alluding to last year’s news that DFA Records accused Goldsworthy of ‘unjust enrichment’ and subsequently sued him for a significant sum. It came as a shock to long-term fans of the label. “It’s a crazy thing, people change, and it’s a weird experience to see how money affects things. That family feeling is a really nice thing, but it definitely does not last for long.”

One thing that has maintained longevity is Sweeney’s Tuesday night slot, taking place from 10.30pm to 1am without fail for 15 years. Yet the show remains inextricably linked to the rejuvenation of New York’s nightlife, and while it has outgrown the city’s borders, is warmly regarded for maintaining a sense of true New York hospitality. Sweeney likens it to another New York institution. “All the L.I.E.S. guys besides Ron [Morelli – label boss] are terrible at promoting themselves, and Ron’s a character and it’s awesome for them – he’s helped this culture of people who are socially awkward and quiet put out their fucked up music and built up this following through it,” he muses. “I can see the radio show being a similar outlet for these people who are socially awkward. They can come on the radio show and we can work through that.”

One thing that has maintained longevity is Sweeney’s Tuesday night slot, taking place from 10.30pm to 1am without fail for 15 years. Yet the show remains inextricably linked to the rejuvenation of New York’s nightlife, and while it has outgrown the city’s borders, is warmly regarded for maintaining a sense of true New York hospitality. Sweeney likens it to another New York institution. “All the L.I.E.S. guys besides Ron [Morelli – label boss] are terrible at promoting themselves, and Ron’s a character and it’s awesome for them – he’s helped this culture of people who are socially awkward and quiet put out their fucked up music and built up this following through it,” he muses. “I can see the radio show being a similar outlet for these people who are socially awkward. They can come on the radio show and we can work through that.”

The show’s archives boasts sets from iconic acts like DJ Harvey, Dâm-Funk and Juan Atkins while weekly guests remain some of the most sought after selectors on the planet such as Prins Thomas, Ben UFO and Gerd Janson. But BiS provides a platform for artists that reaches far beyond the faceless podcast, consciously preserving the spontaneity of human interaction. “When people come in and have a couple of drinks, there’s a community feeling, it just gives it more character in a way,” Sweeney tells me. “I want to get that friendliness across, to show what that person is like when you’re sat down talking to them. If they’re an asshole, I want it to show that they’re an asshole.”

To celebrate the show’s 15-year milestone, BiS released a double-disc mix-CD of exclusive tracks alongside a selection of classics from the likes of John Talabot and Carl Craig. Naturally, it’s coming out on the label arm of the show, active since 2011. Having released impeccably packaged music by Jaakko Eino Kalevi, Paradis, Secret Circuit and more on the imprint already, Sweeney’s hoping the compilation will give it a well-earned boost. “To get people to think that music is worth something is really hard right now,” he admits. “I’m almost adding to that giving away mentality with the radio. But we’re putting so much effort into the sleeves and the sound quality, so when things don’t sell it’s the biggest bummer in the world. I love doing the record label but I feel like I’m still finding my way.”

Over a decade and a half, BiS has attracted a devoted fan base. Though there are none more devoted than ‘Victor From Washington Heights’, a disgruntled New York native and committed listener who has bombarded the hotline with over 600 messages – occasional threats, scant praise, and endless sources of complaint – since the show’s inception. He never misses a week, and it’s a source of both comfort and fear for Sweeney.

“He’s just a crazy person, that’s why I put it online in the beginning, because I thought he was going to kill me,” Sweeney laughs. “That’s what makes him so interesting though, he’s on the edge of insanity, yet he is there and together. I still haven’t figured it out. I don’t know who he is, what he looks like, how much of his story is true or false, I don’t really believe he works at Goldman Sachs and earns millions of pounds to fund his house parties with girls throwing their panties in the air.” He continues, keen to see the positives in his longtime adversary, “But that’s what’s great about radio. He’s a real character and it’s special and specific to New York. Because of the internet everything’s become so cross pollinated and it’s hard to have one scene in one city like it was before in Detroit or Chicago, and Victor is this slice of New York. He doesn’t know that he’s famous – for some people, to get Victor’s hate is a stamp of approval, it’s crazy the connection he’s made.”

This endearing snapshot is key to the BiS legacy, and the show’s warm, down- to-earth appeal adorns the hundreds of polaroids Sweeney has taken of his guests. A simple idea, its execution has become near iconic. “The polaroid is a chance to show who this person is. You can learn a lot about a person from how they write too. Do they do drawings here? Do they write over the white space? It’s just adding that personal touch, trying to show more than this perfect pre-programmed PR thing, everything managed and perfect,” he stresses. “Fuck that, that’s not what I want for the show. I want someone to come on and connect on that personal level.”

Building an adoring following through sheer dedication, it’s unlikely BiS will be slowing down any time soon. As for the next 15 years? Sweeney looks set to champion esoteric tastes and charmingly all-over- the-place interviews, just for the love. “I’m losing money on it but I don’t care, it’s how I want to leave my little chunk in the world. I’d rather do something really fucking cool than make loads of money and run,” he enthuses. “I like going for broke.”