Music. Stories. Connection.
It began with a song, a creative facilitator course in Wigan, and a word I discovered while reading about Buddhism.
Winding the clock back to the summer of 2001, I found myself at Haigh Hall in Wigan, taking part in a Creative Facilitator course delivered by Jack Pierpoint and the late, great John O’Brien.
It was an opportunity to explore creativity, how we communicate ideas, and how we can help people make sense of their experiences in different ways.
One of the exercises was designed to help us develop our skills in graphic recording. We listened to pieces of music and explored how we might capture our responses visually.
One of the songs played was Tomorrow Never Knows by The Beatles.
Something about that experience stayed with me. Music, words, images and ideas were coming together in a way that opened up new possibilities. It was a reminder that we don’t all experience or understand the world in the same way, and that creativity can help us explore things that are sometimes difficult to express through words alone.
Around the same time, I was reading a lot of Buddhist literature and came across the word Sangha.
A Sanskrit word meaning assembly, community or association, it seemed to capture something important about the kind of connection I was interested in: people coming together, sharing experiences and learning from one another.
At the time, I had no idea that these two seemingly separate interests — music and community — would eventually come together in the form of a radio programme.
But looking back, perhaps the seeds of Sangha Radio were already there.
Being a child of the sixties, I’ve loved music for as long as I can remember.
Music has accompanied me throughout my life. It brings back memories, connects us with people and places, and helps us express things we sometimes struggle to put into words.
A song can take you straight back to a particular moment. You hear the opening notes and suddenly remember where you were, who you were with, or what was happening in your life.
Some songs make us smile. Others stir up emotions we thought we had long since put away. Some remind us of people we have loved and lost. And some become so closely associated with a particular time in our lives that we can hardly hear them without being transported back there.
Music has a remarkable ability to connect the personal with the collective. A song may mean something deeply individual to us, yet the same song can carry significance for thousands of other people.
For me, music has never simply been background noise. It has been something to discover, collect, share and return to.
And, as I have grown older, I have become increasingly interested not only in the music itself but also in the stories behind it.
My relationship with music has also been shaped by the way we discover and listen to it.
For many years, that meant vinyl.
Trips to Probe and Skeleton in Liverpool were part of the adventure. There was something special about visiting a record shop, browsing through the racks, finding something unexpected and taking it home to listen to.
There were also day returns to London, with the possibility of discovering records that might not be so easy to find locally.
Collecting music was an activity in its own right. You searched, listened, compared, discovered and built a collection that reflected your tastes, interests and enthusiasms.
Then there were the DIY cassette tapes.
Making tapes for friends, sharing albums and introducing one another to new artists were all part of the experience. You could spend hours putting together a selection of tracks, deciding what should go first and what might work together.
A cassette could become a personal soundtrack, a musical recommendation or a way of sharing something you thought another person needed to hear.
As formats changed, the collection grew.
Vinyl gave way, in part, to CDs. Albums were lined up on shelves, and CDs gradually found their way into old bookcases in the box bedroom or into the loft. There was also the practice of burning CDs from a mate’s vast collection — another way of discovering music and passing it on.
The technology changed, but the underlying pleasure remained the same: finding music, listening to it, and sharing it with other people.
Today, so much of our music lives in the digital world.
I’ve landed on Spotify, creating playlists, collecting albums and continually searching for new music. SoundCloud and Bandcamp have also become important places to discover and collect music, particularly when it comes to finding new artists and exploring Liverpool’s independent music scene.
The opportunities are extraordinary. Music that might once have taken weeks or months to track down can now be discovered in moments.
Yet, despite all the changes in technology, I think the essential experience remains remarkably similar.
We still search for music that moves us. We still share songs with friends. We still create playlists to reflect our moods, interests and memories.
And we still find ourselves asking why a particular song affects us so deeply.
The format may change, but the connection remains.
There is, however, another reason why music has always fascinated me.
Music can do more than entertain us or provide the soundtrack to our lives. It can give people a voice, challenge injustice and bring people together.
Throughout history, songs have become part of movements for equality and change. They have helped people express their hopes, frustrations and demands. They have accompanied marches, supported campaigns and given people a sense of solidarity when they have felt isolated or powerless.
Some songs become anthems. Others bear witness to events that must not be forgotten. Some challenge us to confront uncomfortable truths, while others offer hope that a different future is possible.
Think about the power of a song that captures the spirit of a movement or expresses something that thousands of people feel but have struggled to articulate.
The music becomes part of the story.
It can preserve memories, communicate experiences across generations and help people understand struggles beyond their own.
That is the aspect of music I wanted to explore through Sangha Radio.
Not simply playing a song because it is a favourite, although there will always be room for favourites, but exploring what lies beneath it.
Why was it written? What was happening in the world at the time? Whose voices did it amplify? What did it mean to the people who first heard it? And why does it still matter?
Sometimes, the story behind a song is just as powerful as the song itself.
Much of my working life has been spent thinking about people, community and equality.
About the importance of being heard. About belonging. About having a voice and being recognised as a person with experiences, aspirations and ideas that matter.
Over more than 30 years of work life experience, I have been interested in how people live their lives, how communities support one another, and how we create opportunities for people to have greater control over the things that matter to them.
I’ve also spent a great deal of time thinking about the systems and structures that influence people’s lives, and about the importance of listening rather than making assumptions about what people need.
At first glance, these interests might seem a long way from collecting records, making playlists or presenting a radio programme.
For me, though, they are closely connected.
Behind every policy, political argument or social issue are people. People with stories, experiences, ambitions and frustrations. People whose voices are sometimes heard clearly, and others who struggle to be heard at all.
Music can help us understand those experiences in a different way.
A song can make an abstract issue feel personal. It can give emotional expression to an experience that statistics alone cannot convey. It can challenge our assumptions and encourage us to consider the world from another person’s perspective.
Perhaps that is where my working life and my lifelong passion for music come together.
Both have taught me something about the importance of listening.
And both have reinforced my belief that there is always more to a person, a story or an experience than we might initially recognise.
Sangha Radio grew from the coming together of these interests: music, creativity, community and a curiosity about the stories that shape our lives.
I wanted to create a programme that would use music as a starting point for exploring history, social justice, equality, protest, resistance and the human experiences behind them.
The word Sangha felt right because it reflects the idea of people coming together. It suggests a space in which we can share experiences, listen to different perspectives and discover connections.
The programme’s guiding words are:
Music. Stories. Connection.
They are simple words, but they express what I hope Sangha Radio can become.
Music is the starting point. Stories help us understand the people, events and ideas behind it. Connection is what happens when we recognise something of ourselves in another person’s experience — or discover something entirely new.
I want the programme to be curious rather than preachy, thoughtful without being inaccessible, and engaging whether you know the music well or are hearing it for the first time.
It is not about telling listeners what to think. It is about creating opportunities to listen, explore, question and perhaps see familiar songs in a new light.
For my first programme, I’ll be exploring songs of Civil Rights, protest, resistance and hope.
Music from a struggle for equality that continues to raise questions for us today.
It feels like a fitting place to begin because the songs associated with civil rights and protest demonstrate so clearly how music can become part of a much wider movement for change.
My opening song is Sam Cooke’s A Change Is Gonna Come.
Released in 1964, it became closely associated with the American Civil Rights Movement. It is a song of struggle, longing and hope, delivered with an emotional power that continues to resonate.
From there, the programme explores a collection of songs that speak to freedom, injustice, solidarity and the desire for a fairer world.
There is Keep Your Eyes on the Prize, a song rooted in the tradition of freedom songs; Freedom Highway by The Staple Singers; and Nina Simone’s uncompromising Mississippi Goddam.
The journey also includes People Get Ready by The Impressions, Billie Holiday’s devastating Strange Fruit, Marvin Gaye’s searching What’s Going On, and Labi Siffre’s powerful (Something Inside) So Strong.
Each song has its own history, context and emotional force. Together, they open up a conversation about the relationship between music and social change.
They also raise questions that remain relevant today.
What does freedom mean? How do people find the courage to resist injustice? What role can music play in challenging discrimination? And how do we maintain hope when the changes we want to see are slow to arrive?
I don’t believe music can solve every problem. But I do believe it can help people think, feel, connect and find the words to express what matters to them.
Sometimes, a song can help us understand something that a thousand words of explanation have failed to convey.
And sometimes, it can remind us that struggles for equality and dignity are not isolated events in history, but part of an ongoing human story.
Sangha Radio has also become a shared creative project.
I’m delighted that my old school friend Shem Sharples is producing the first series. It has been exciting to take an idea and begin turning it into an actual programme — choosing music, thinking about the stories, and working out how to bring everything together for listeners.
There is something special about collaborating with someone you have known for so long. You bring your own ideas and enthusiasms, but you also share a history and a sense of familiarity.
Like the music itself, the process has been about discovery, conversation and connection.
The programme is broadcast on circl8radio.com giving me the opportunity to share this collection of music and ideas with a wider audience.
What began as a personal interest and a developing idea is now something I can invite other people to experience and contribute to.
Although the first programme looks at songs associated with the American Civil Rights Movement, I want Sangha Radio to explore music from different places, periods and traditions.
Liverpool’s own musical heritage provides a rich source of inspiration.
As well as the familiar names and celebrated history, there is a continuing story of independent artists, emerging musicians and people creating new music outside the mainstream.
There is much potential for future programmes: songs of protest and resistance, music associated with peace and equality, artists who challenged convention, and songs that capture the character and experience of particular communities.
Some stories will be local; others will reach across countries and generations.
The common thread will be the belief that music can help us understand something about the people who make it, the circumstances in which it is created and the world in which we listen to it.
I hope Sangha Radio will be a place where those stories can be discovered and shared.
One of the things I love about music is that we all bring our own experiences to it.
Two people can listen to exactly the same song and hear something completely different. A song that means little to one person might be profoundly important to another.
Perhaps it reminds someone of their childhood. Perhaps it became the soundtrack to a political campaign, a relationship or a period of personal change. Perhaps it gave them comfort, strength or a sense of belonging when they needed it most.
Those connections are part of what makes music so powerful.
And I would love Sangha Radio to be more than a programme in which I simply choose the songs and tell the stories.
I’d like listeners to bring their own experiences, too.
Is there a song that has stayed with you throughout your life? A song that means something beyond the music itself? Perhaps it reminds you of a person, a place, a moment or a cause.
I’d genuinely love to hear your stories.
Because sometimes, the most interesting part of a song is the story behind it.
Looking back to that summer day at Haigh Hall in 2001, I could not have known where the combination of a creative facilitator course, a Beatles song and my growing interest in Buddhist literature would lead.
But the connections now seem clear.
A lifelong love of music. A work life interest in people, community and equality. A fascination with the power of stories. And a belief that bringing people together to listen, learn and share can open up new possibilities.
Sangha Radio brings those things together.
It is an opportunity to revisit familiar music, discover something new and explore the stories behind the songs that have helped shape our world.
I hope it will entertain you, make you think, introduce you to music you might not otherwise encounter and encourage you to share some stories of your own.
Above all, I hope it will remind us that music is not just something we listen to.
It is something we experience, remember, share and use to connect with one another.
Sangha Radio. Music. Stories. Connection.
🚢 Come aboard and join me on the journey.
📻 Listen to Sangha Radio on Circl8 Radio, broadcasting on the second Wednesday of each month at 8pm.
And if a song has a story for you, I’d love to hear it.
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