Live on Air with EUSA Presidential Candidate Brad Stevens

Bradley Stevens, @brad4eusa

There is something very bewitching in the way Brad slickly glides over buttons and dials and thingamajigs in the FreshAir Radio studio during his usual Friday slot. He is certainly in his element: a natural speaker with an infectious energy and uncanny musical knowledge that invites listeners and guests to lean in, begging for more. I think some people might be shocked to learn this charisma is being channelled into politics, not social media influencing, journalism, or the arts. But I’m not. For all Brad’s charm and chat, there is a softness that strikes me as we wait on our coffees and start talking about his campaign for EUSA President. Brad articulates himself with care, expresses his ideas earnestly, and listens to others intently. He is people-driven and problem-focused. With our campus feeling so divided and dismal in the face of budget cuts, low student satisfaction, and consistent negligence, I want to learn more about the man behind the music. Brad Stevens, the radio host running for office: let’s talk playlists and politics. 

To be totally transparent, I have known Brad since first year, before we exchanged Canonmills for Newington and called Beaverbank and Shrubhill our homes. He is a long-time friend of this column, and I have had the pleasure of being invited on his show in the past. Brad is a twenty-three-year old, fourth-year Politics student from the West Midlands. He is a proud dog-dad and local history buff. Brad has long been a leading light in this campus’s music scene, beginning with his electric LGBTQ+-centred show “Queer in the City” and, most recently, as Head of Music at FreshAir Radio and one of the hosts of Music Hub. When Brad isn’t in the studio, you can catch him holding court in the Main Library or, if you’re even luckier, dominating the dancefloor at Tracks Mondays.

There is no denying Brad is a trendsetter on our campus. But now he’s in the hot seat, and I’m keen to learn more about this transition from hosting to politicking. Brad’s decision to join student radio was, he says, always political. Despite taking a significant hit during the COVID-19 pandemic, student radio has made a confident comeback thanks to the hardworking team behind it. Brad especially credits their manager, Nilufer Aumeerally, with this. With her encouragement, Brad was emboldened to participate in or lead various projects that have been integral to its revival. “Queer in the City” was a novel and disruptive show. Blending contemporary hyperpop with the sounds of new wave and R&B he was introduced to by his parents, it exuded joy, originality, and exquisite taste. Most importantly, it honoured the queer community of Edinburgh that Brad belongs to. Nowhere else, Brad reflects, has he felt more seen and loved. He is, however, concerned about the future of queer spaces when the University of Edinburgh readily cuts radical and critical courses and, most significantly, fails to consult students about these decisions. The cutting of the geosciences course “Queer Geographies” after a mere week of classes was one of the first harbingers of the increased conservatism now associated with the university’s budget. When students called for the reinstatement of the course, their enthusiasm was met with silence. Brad, whose frustration with this decision is still abundantly evident, was inspired to seek the presidency to ensure decisions like this do not happen again, or at least never without consultation from student voices.

Brad is also conscious of and reactive to the epistemic disadvantages associated with music. As a Widening Participation student, he stresses the importance of “levelling the playing field”. Music is inherently costly for performers and audiences alike. Advanced knowledge of it often requires the time, funds, and support of parents, carers, or teachers in fostering it from an early age. Like many, Brad arrived at university with little to no knowledge of classical works or music theory, but could name every dance tune played on repeat on the kitchen radio. He felt magnetised toward George Michael, Jamiroquai, and Kylie Minogue, to name a few. He has since plunged headfirst into Edinburgh’s close-knit music scene, citing Daisy Casemore, Oedipus, and Aldous as ones to watch. The popularity of neo-folk in the city is unlike anything his natal Birmingham has to offer. Music Hub, from the production to the presenting team, has enabled this diversification by celebrating conversation and creativity. Brad’s prospective presidency recognises his fortune in this regard and wants to expand the opportunities of other students like himself. He rightly fears the university is resistant to systemic intervention and fails to uphold accessibility to the arts. Lower-priced or free tickets for widening participation students are offered by some societies, but the university does not hold them accountable for doing so. The same university has also made disabling budget cuts to the Edinburgh College of Art. Brad is deeply anxious that his friends are being deprived of the resources and inspiration to pursue a career of their choosing. Bedlam Theatre, for example, has recently ended an incredible run of student-led shows, including The Seagull and The History Boys. Brad wants to ensure these creative spaces are protected, and that opportunities for students to flourish are normalised.

For the many years I have known Brad, I have always been impressed by his ability to juggle eccentricity, including an infamous Lorax Halloween costume, with astute and empathetic political commentaries. Throughout our chat, we kept falling down rabbit-holes, including debates about Greta Gerwig’s Barbie and the BRIT Awards, on later that evening. Brad speaks eruditely about the highly-anticipated Album of the Year category, applauds PinkPantheress being the first woman to win best producer, and how Ozzy Osbourne’s posthumous honour makes him even prouder to be from Birmingham. I laughed as much as I paused to reflect upon the deeper aspects of conversation, a lump in my throat. This was especially the case when Brad and I discussed what this campaign means to him. Brad was a young carer, following his mum’s diagnosis with MS when he was just a year old. “She has an incredibly ballsy attitude to life,” Brad smiles, “and she is so funny”. Her strength, determination, and “Brummy loveliness” are qualities she clearly passed down to Brad. He is also beyond grateful for people’s support thus far in the campaign. Brad knows he will be up dancing with them to Florence and the Machine’s “You’ve Got The Love” regardless of whether he wins or loses on March 6^th. “I don’t know anybody who doesn’t get up and move when that song plays”, he laughs. Friendship has undoubtedly been the heart and soul of these highly intense and nerve-wracking two weeks, and Brad is determined to see it through to the end with the people he loves by his side.

Brad has to run and get to George Square, where he plans to entice people to talk through his manifesto with him through a buzzer game that features a Sugababes soundbite. He also has a dissertation to write (although us fourth-years have now entered an unspoken pact to avoid the dreaded D-word). As we leave the café, I find myself reflecting on something Brad had told me: he often heads up Salisbury Craggs to think. From there, he observes the city from above and the microcosms of life unfolding: “It is like a snow globe”. I think this statement epitomises Brad’s love of community and perceptive intelligence. I wish him and the other candidates the best of luck in the upcoming elections. Polls open March 2^nd. It is more important than ever that we vote for student representatives we believe in.