Broadcast Pirate: a young South Asian woman in bulky wired headphones and a patched jacket speaks into a handheld microphone, carrying a homemade transmitter built into an open metal toolbox, with a cassette deck, an analogue meter, a fan grille and two telescopic aerials. Tech|Savage is on a plate on the toolbox.

Artwork made with AI image tools from our own concepts and art direction. The machine was supervised; blame remains human.

Item
TS017
Designation
Broadcast Pirate
Mode
Signal

Broadcast Pirate

Colour
Size

Price and final sizes are still under interrogation. Nothing is for sale yet.

The proposition

Two aerials, one cassette deck, zero patience for playlist committees. Programming starts when she says it does.

Rabbit hole

Why were they called pirates?

Because they broadcast from the sea. In 1964 the only licence to broadcast radio in Britain belonged to the BBC, and monopolies are not famous for asking what you’d like to hear. At noon on 28 March 1964 Radio Caroline began regular programmes from a ship anchored outside the three-mile limit. It had no licence, but out past the limit it wasn’t breaking British law, which tells you somebody on board had read the small print.

Parliament closed the gap with the Marine, &c., Broadcasting (Offences) Act 1967, a title that gets one word in and shrugs. From midnight on 14 August 1967 it was an offence for anyone in Britain to supply or advertise on an unlicensed offshore station, so the ships were welcome to stay out there for as long as they could manage without British supplies or British advertising money. Every other station shut down on or before that night. Caroline kept going.

Today the rules are in the Wireless Telegraphy Act 2006, and making an unlicensed broadcast is an offence that can mean up to two years in prison, which is a long stretch to go without your record collection. So the toolbox on this shirt is strictly for show, and the transmitter inside it exists only in ink. What she’s putting out is the look of someone who has never once waited for a committee to hand her the microphone, and you can wear that anywhere without a licence.

Evidence: Radio Caroline, Wikipedia, August 14 1967, midnight: showdown for the pop pirates, The National Archives, Wireless Telegraphy Act 2006, section 35

Further incidents

  1. Shirt artwork: a friendly rounded lowercase ‘ask me about’ arches above a coiled serpent in a yellow hazard triangle; ROKO'S BASILISK remains in distressed block lettering below.
    Item
    TS001
    Designation
    Ask Me About Roko’s Basilisk
    Mode
    Rabbit hole
  2. MEAT PROXY: a human receives a cyan machine signal and pulls a physical switch, with an amber lower-back fault callout. YOUR API HAS BACK PAIN.
    Item
    TS002
    Designation
    Meat Proxy
    Mode
    Signal
  3. VIBECODER: a grinning coder in sunglasses lounges with his feet on the desk while robot arms work the monitors around him, coffee flying, a soft glow under his T-shirt and a skull in a top hat on the pen pot.
    Item
    TS003
    Designation
    Vibecoder
    Mode
    Signal
  4. MEATSPACE IS WHERE I KEEP MY STUFF: a filing cabinet stores keys, shoes, a mug and tangled cables. PERSISTENT STORAGE. TERRIBLE SEARCH.
    Item
    TS004
    Designation
    Meatspace Is Where I Keep My Stuff
  5. BIOLOGICAL BOOTSTRAP: an unimpressed person in a skeleton-print coverall is packaged inside an obsolete software sleeve. KEEP UNTIL SINGULARITY
    Item
    TS005
    Designation
    Biological Bootstrap
    Mode
    Rabbit hole
  6. OVERCLOCKED: a living person's open cranial casing exposes a cybernetic brain made of processors, heat sinks and cable bundles, with amber thermal callouts.
    Item
    TS006
    Designation
    Overclocked
    Mode
    Signal
  7. PAPERCLIP MAXIMALIST: a paperclip crown and wreath surround a globe unravelling into wire. The crest's integral ribbon reads ALL MATTER IS INVENTORY.
    Item
    TS007
    Designation
    Paperclip Maximalist
    Mode
    Rabbit hole
  8. LOCALLY OPTIMAL: a climber celebrates a small summit beside a far higher mountain, on cyan wireframe terrain below a striped synthwave sun. BEST IN IMMEDIATE VICINITY.
    Item
    TS008
    Designation
    Locally Optimal
    Mode
    Rabbit hole
  9. TECH DEBT COLLECTION AGENCY: a weary engineer with a TODO clipboard inspects a server cabinet spilling tangled cables. WE REPOSSESS YOUR WEEKEND.
    Item
    TS009
    Designation
    Tech Debt Collection Agency
    Mode
    Rabbit hole
  10. PROVE YOU ARE HUMAN: a nine-tile CAPTCHA fragments a person's face with a fingerprint, key and cycling memory. SELECT ALL SQUARES CONTAINING YOURSELF.
    Item
    TS010
    Designation
    Prove You Are Human
    Mode
    Rabbit hole
  11. HALT AND CATCH FIRE: a human profile with an exposed cybernetic brain and a flame-and-smoke mohawk, framed by the main title with no secondary line.
    Item
    TS011
    Designation
    Halt and Catch Fire
    Mode
    Rabbit hole
  12. p(doom): a beige instrument displays 37.42%, with a RECALCULATE button, crossed-out estimates and a SOURCE: /dev/urandom plate. RANDOM NUMBER. SERIOUS FACE.
    Item
    TS012
    Designation
    p(doom)
    Mode
    Rabbit hole
  13. Signal Thief: a raven inked in black with pink and cyan highlights perches on a broken, rusting TV aerial, gripping a computer chip stamped Tech|Savage in its beak and claw. Pink circles and arrows mark the chip and the snapped aerial.
    Item
    TS013
    Designation
    Signal Thief
    Mode
    Signal
  14. The Field Saint: an unimpressed older woman technician in a battered work jacket, safety specs pushed up into short grey hair, holds a soldering iron upright in one hand and a tangle of multimeter test leads in the other. A cyan oscilloscope trace loops behind her head like a halo, and a Tech|Savage patch sits on her jacket.
    Item
    TS014
    Designation
    The Field Saint
    Mode
    Signal
  15. Dead Media Bouquet: a funeral bouquet made of obsolete media, with floppy disks and audio cassettes for flower heads, folded ribbon cables for leaves and curls of magnetic tape for tendrils, gathered in crinkled paper wrapping tied with a Tech|Savage band.
    Item
    TS015
    Designation
    Dead Media Bouquet
    Mode
    Signal
  16. The Oracle: a chunky beige CRT monitor with a dark, blank screen sits on a battered plastic milk crate like a shrine, ringed by a halo of telescopic aerials. Its mains cable loops round to a three-pin plug hanging unplugged in front, circled in pink. Tech|Savage is on the monitor’s maker’s plate.
    Item
    TS016
    Designation
    The Oracle
    Mode
    Signal
  17. Escape Sequence: a cracked audio cassette labelled Tech|Savage spills a ribbon of magnetic tape that curls upwards, folds into angular paper-bird shapes and becomes a small flock of birds flying free.
    Item
    TS018
    Designation
    Escape Sequence
    Mode
    Signal