32 Years on the Rooftops: The Untamed Story of Phil Eastman and Kool FM

Eastman & Kool FM have been part of the UK Jungle and Drum & Bass story for over three decades.

Before high-speed fibre broadband, polished streaming apps and commercial radio setups, Phil Eastman and Kool FM were part of a pirate radio culture built on cold London rooftops, illicit FM transmitters and sheer determination.

For more than three decades, Phil “Eastman” helped keep the station broadcasting through changing musical trends, pressure from the authorities and the relentless demands of pirate radio. His story is one of late-night rooftop climbs, makeshift transmitters and the people who kept returning to the airwaves when walking away might have been easier.

It is also the story of a station that became deeply connected to the rise of Jungle and Drum & Bass, providing a home for DJs, MCs and a generation of talent finding its voice.

Cold Rooftops and 2 AM Scaffolding Runs

When people look back at the glory days of 90s Jungle and Drum & Bass, they often remember packed dancefloors, legendary raves and the music that eventually travelled far beyond London’s underground.

What they don’t always see is the gruelling work that happened behind the scenes to keep that music on air.

Picture East London at two in the morning. While much of the city slept, Eastman and his crew were out on the streets looking for scaffolding.

They weren’t looking for scrap metal. They needed thick ropes to haul heavy transmitters, rigs and aerials onto the roofs of high-rise council blocks.

As Eastman recalls:

“You realise you haven’t got the rope. It weren’t the point that you can go and buy it now. You’ve got to find a scaffold with it on and take it off. And it was never ending, man.”

Getting a transmitter on air was only part of the challenge. The equipment had to reach the top of buildings, often in freezing conditions and with the constant threat of raids from the authorities.

It was an exhausting cycle. Equipment could be lost, damaged or seized. Then the work started again.

The rigs had to be rebuilt. New equipment had to be sourced. The rooftops had to be reached once more.

For Eastman and the people around Kool FM, keeping a pirate station alive demanded far more than a love of music, it required persistence.

The Unspoken Treaty of Hackney’s Airwaves

In the early 1990s, London’s pirate radio scene was fiercely competitive.

Stations operated in the same neighbourhoods and fought for listeners, frequencies and territory. According to Eastman’s account, those rivalries could sometimes spill over onto the rooftops, with aerials and equipment becoming targets.

When Eastman joined forces with co-founder Smurff to launch Kool FM in 1991, he understood that the station already faced pressure from the authorities.

The last thing they needed was constant conflict with other stations.

Eastman called a meeting on Cedric Street with operators from four local pirate stations. The message was simple: don’t raid each other’s roofs.

If a rival station went onto Kool FM’s roof, they would be removed. In return, Kool FM would stay away from the rooftops used by other stations.

It was an informal understanding, but it helped create a degree of stability between competing broadcasters.

That allowed Kool FM to focus on what mattered most: the music.

The station became a home for DJs, MCs and emerging talent, helping provide a platform for the Jungle and Drum & Bass community at a time when mainstream radio offered limited space for the scene.

Eastman Shouldering the Weight of Kool FM

By 1997 or 1998, the pressure of running an underground station had taken its toll.

Co-founder Smurff reached a point where he needed to step away from Kool FM. Eastman encouraged him to take some time out and left the door open for his return.

But with Smurff no longer involved in the day-to-day running of the station, much of the responsibility fell onto Eastman’s shoulders.

The work was relentless.

There were transmitters to maintain and technical problems to solve. DJs needed schedules. The station had to stay operational. Meanwhile, the musical landscape around Kool FM continued to evolve.

Jungle was changing. Garage was rising. New sounds were emerging.

Through it all, Eastman remained committed to keeping Kool FM alive.

His partner Sue also played a major role in that commitment. Together, they devoted years to the station, often putting technical problems and the needs of the broadcast ahead of their own time.

That dedication became part of Kool FM’s story.

Pirate radio might sound romantic from a distance. In reality, it demanded sacrifice.

Passing the Torch to Rinse FM

On 1 January 2023, after almost 32 years, Eastman switched off Kool FM’s original frequency.

For someone who had spent decades keeping the station alive, it marked a major turning point.

However, Eastman did not want Kool FM’s story to end with him.

Recognising the personal toll of running the station and thinking about its future, he made the decision to hand the Kool FM brand to Geeneus and the Rinse FM team.

The move was about preserving the station’s identity for a new generation.

As Eastman explained:

“If I die tomorrow, the station will still be on in 10, 15 years’ time… We didn’t want our baby just disappearing. We wanted the essence of the station, and we felt G was the man to do that.”

The handover marked the end of one chapter in Kool FM’s history, It also opened another.

For Eastman, the decision meant that something he had helped build over decades could continue beyond his own involvement.

Eastman, Smurff & Kool FM Written on the Skyline

Phil Eastman’s journey from a young boy born in Malta to a foundational figure in the history of Kool FM stretches across more than three decades of London’s pirate radio culture.

His contribution was never simply about playing records, it was about building and maintaining the infrastructure that allowed a community to broadcast. It was about the late-night journeys, the rooftops, the equipment and the technical problems that listeners rarely saw.

It was also about creating a platform for a generation of DJs and MCs who found a home on the airwaves.

Today, the technology has changed. Broadcasting no longer requires the same rooftop climbs or makeshift transmitter setups, But the spirit that drove pirate radio remains part of British music culture.

For Eastman, 32 years on the roofs was about more than keeping a frequency alive, it was about making sure the music never stopped.

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