Keep On Moving Radio

Some projects are born out of strategy.

Others are born out of soul.

Keep On Moving Radio belongs to the second kind.

It’s not a trend.

It’s not just another platform. It’s a sonic refuge, a bridge between generations, an offering to the reggae culture that raised us, held us, and still guides us.

This project began because we couldn’t stay silent.Because reggae isn’t just music to us — it’s memory, it’s community, it’s a way of seeing and feeling the world.And it all started many years ago, when life was still analog, and music was shared through tapes, burned CDs, street markets, and honest recommendations from friends.

The first spark: tapes from San Diego and riddims from Havana

I was just 12 years old when a box of Lowrider magazines and cassettes changed my life. They came from our neighbors, who had just returned from San Diego, California — unknowingly carrying the seed of something that would never stop growing in me.

The tapes weren’t curated. They weren’t commercial.They were real. Raw. Spiritual.

And within them, reggae started to speak to me — even before I understood the lyrics.

As kids, we’d sit and absorb the sounds of Yellowman, Ras Michael, The Congos, Peter Tosh, Israel Vibration... We didn’t know the full meanings back then, but somehow, we felt it all. Deeply.

Chopo, Tepito and the early days of sonic exchange

As teens, my crew and I started visiting the Chopo Cultural Market every Saturday — a sacred ground for underground music lovers in Mexico City.

There, we’d buy, trade, argue, and discover music like it was gold. And if we didn’t find what we wanted at Chopo, we’d head to Tepito, where for just 3 pesos, we could buy hundreds of burned CDs.

Not for profit. Not for clout.

For the joy of building our pirate collections.

To listen. To share. To learn.

We were 15, maybe 16.

And every disc felt like a new doorway.

Reggae in the city: basement clubs and legendary nights

Sundays weren’t just for crate-digging.

They were for dancing. For feeling the bass in your bones.

We started going to downtown CDMX, to legendary spots like La Diabla, Raza Rasta, Mama África Tarará, El Ombligo, and countless other reggae holes in the wall.

That’s where we met the first local selectors. The first live reggae bands. The first spaces where you could feel the message vibrating off the walls.

We watched the scene grow. From patios to plazas, from walkmans to sound systems. We witnessed the moment when reggae stopped being niche and became a living movement in Mexico.

We were there when Israel Vibration played the Bosque de Tlalpan, or when Steel Pulse and Burning Spear lit up the stage at Festival Razteca.

Those memories still pulse inside us. They shaped who we are.

Keep On Moving Radio: Born out of necessity during the pandemic

When the pandemic hit and the world shut down, we couldn’t stay silent. The rhythm had to keep moving. Keep On Moving Radio was born.

Not from a business plan. But from the heart. From urgency.

From a need to stay connected — through music, culture, and spirit.

From that moment on, KOMR became a living project.

We started broadcasting reggae, dub, roots, soul — Connecting people in Mexico, Europe, the Caribbean, South America. And in every session, we felt it: we were not alone.