Propaganda – p: Machinery (Polish)

Lying in bed, unable to fall asleep for one reason or another, I thought that five minutes of night-time music would ease my mind into the comfort of slumber. I reached for the clock radio and set the sleep timer to five minutes.
I caught the very end of the DJ introducing the next track over the repetitive beats that were starting. They sounded very much as if created by a TR-707. Something so hypnotic seemed appropriate, given the circumstance. Soon, I would be dreaming, I told myself.

Whatever it was, the music was growing in intensity. It was captivating, alternating playful synth layers and nostalgic guitar licks, glockenspiel solos and cascades of piano keys, minimalistic drum segments and brass outbursts. Oh! That sounded like marching orders. And here were lyrics too? This track was becoming better and better... even if it was not improving my sleep!

Suddenly, the radio stopped.
To say I was surprised would be an understatement. Had it been five minutes already? When did radio stations ever played tracks this long? Surely another minute would allow me to hear the end of the track and the title. I had better hurry too, because, certainly, it was almost over.
I reached for the clock radio and set the sleep timer for one minute.
The music cycled through the afore-mentioned elements again in a way that made the whole sound very orchestral. It was so carefully put together and so efficient it was mesmerising.
The minute ed. The track continued. The radio stopped.

What the fuck!?
I reached for the clock radio and set the sleep timer for one additional minute, dead certain I would have to snooze it after a few seconds, but also determined to hear the end of the song.
The minute ed. The track continued. The radio stopped.

I could not believe it.
Unable and unwilling to let go, I added a further three minutes to the sleep timer.
The track finished in an explosion of sound. The DJ came back on air at last, after what had to be the longest toilet break in the history of radiophonic broadcast, and gave the title -- the prize I had been hoping for.
I frantically wrote down: Propaganda - Machinery on a random piece of paper, and finally found blissful sleep, impressed by the DJ's daring move to play something so long and uncommercial as that, from beginning to end, even at that hour, and also excited to have discovered such amazing music on national radio, albeit nineteen years after it was released.

A couple of years later, I struck up a conversation with a random bloke at Rififi and was therefore linked to Acid house, the music mostly played in that club. Seemed like a very down-to-earth guy.