A late-night jam with KRFH’s DJ Goosepunch

By Barley Lewis-McCabe

“I’m DJ Goosepunch, and you’re in for a honkin’ good time,” KRFH DJ Nico Patadakis said. “So get ready, we’re gonna start the night with Philosophy by Ben Folds Five and see where we go from there.” 

Immediately the small studio became engulfed in a mid-90s rock piano ballad, the walls shaking when Patadakis turned up the speakers, and spun his chair around to look at me. 

“How did I sound?” Patadakis said.

11-12 p.m. on a Sunday night may not be an appealing time slot to folks who have spent the day nursing a hangover, have an 8 a.m. class, an early shift, or all three. However, a weekend sendoff can be found in the KRFH radio booth with Patakidis, a freshman English major. He’s a cat-like man with sharp features, and pointed hair, truly passionate about what he does.

Patadakis and I exited the ghost town campus to enter Gist Hall, creepy as ever, about 30 minutes before the set. When going deeper into the building and closer to the studio, signs of life appear such as band posters, wooden cutouts, a populated bulletin board, and a room with a big KRFH sticker on it. 

Everything changes walking through that door. You can’t argue that the studio isn’t lively. Even this late, the music’s still bumping. 

The booth itself is maximalist to the greatest extent, covered wall to wall in stickers. Some read, “Hot girls listen to KRFH,” and, “This is a drug-free zone.” The autonomous broadcast program played some smooth funky Miles Davis. Goosepunch chuckled smugly as he took the helm, put on some Cat Stevens and prepared for his first set. 

The studio’s ambience is confusingly bright, the studio’s naturally dark — everything’s dark at this hour, of course. The soundproofing insulation blocked out any light and held in as much heat as the DJs (and inquisitive journalists) could produce, hence the large box fan and its never ending, “Brrrmmmmm.” But as the machines hummed, they each produced a separate light and their own ticking sound. Each button and switch carried out some important task.

As energetic as the host was, the stale, burnt coffee wore off and Goosepunch and mine’s conversation began to slow down. I leaned back in my chair and saw the calmness of a late-night set. It was like the only sounds in the world were coming from this one room. 

At 11:34 p.m., we went into a short break to hear some promos and continued to talk. Any moment he wasn’t on the mic, we would talk. I got to see his improvisational style, his dry jokes and quirks. I got to know him. He’s honest to the mic, no persona or excessive showmanship but he’s not like any average Joey KRFH. Take the name, “Goosepunch”, chosen because goose rhymes with juice, fruit punch is juice. Combine that with his love of geese and punch and you’ve got a memorable moniker.  

“Why did you join KRFH?” I asked him.

“It seemed like an interesting thing to do.”

He didn’t elaborate further, there wasn’t anything else to say. Patakidis found something interesting, did it, and did it well. Eventually, it was time to end it.

“I’m DJ Goosepunch. It’s 11:54 p.m. and my show is coming to an end. I’m back next week, same time same day. Have a good night” 

And as suddenly as the music began, it was off. Time for the next set. We walked into the pitch-black campus, the working week beginning, and once again the DJ was just a man.

Barley Lewis-McCabe is a freshman journalism major, photojournalist, and untraditional reporter. They like to cover interesting stories that center on social change and human impact.