Vinyl swap in Studio [0]
August 5, 2026 ยท [email protected] ยท 8 min read
Most of our DJs have day jobs in software, design or support, which explains the jokes. We measure success in hours listened, not clicks, which keeps us honest about what actually matters. Good radio sounds effortless, but every minute on air has at least ten minutes of prep behind it.
The tech stack
We still print the weekly playlist and pin it on the studio wall, mostly out of habit. Accessibility matters to us, so every show gets a transcript and every page works with a keyboard. Some weeks the playlist is meticulously planned; other weeks it is a group chat argument that somehow turns into a show. Local artists make up almost a third of what we play, and that number keeps going up.
The best feedback we ever got was a single line: “you made my deploy go faster”. We keep the stream running around the clock, which means someone is always awake, caffeinated and slightly too excited about a B-side. The studio is small, the monitors are loud and the coffee machine has its own on-call rotation. Accessibility matters to us, so every show gets a transcript and every page works with a keyboard. Our favourite metric is the number of listeners who stay through the ad break.
- Request a song from any page
- Late-night mixes with no talking
- Low-data mode for mobile
- Listen on the web, in the app or on a smart speaker
Behind the scenes, the playout system is a small pile of open source tools glued together with very careful shell scripts. Accessibility matters to us, so every show gets a transcript and every page works with a keyboard. Our schedule is built in blocks, with softer sounds in the morning and heavier beats after dark.
What changes for listeners
We keep a strict no-autoplay policy on the site: you press play, and then we never interrupt you. When a listener sends a track we have never heard, it goes straight into the next hour. Good radio sounds effortless, but every minute on air has at least ten minutes of prep behind it. The best feedback we ever got was a single line: “you made my deploy go faster”. Guests are always surprised by how relaxed the studio is, until the ON AIR light turns red.
Nothing beats the feeling of a track dropping at exactly the right moment and the chat exploding with fire emojis. Morning shows are for energy, weather, traffic and the one story everyone at work will talk about. A radio station is really a promise: that there will be something good playing whenever you tune in. The studio is small, the monitors are loud and the coffee machine has its own on-call rotation.
The music never stops. That is not a slogan, it is a technical requirement.
Our engineers obsess over latency because a stream that stutters is a stream people switch off. We believe the music should never stop just because you clicked a link. The station started as a side project in a spare room and a borrowed microphone. We keep the stream running around the clock, which means someone is always awake, caffeinated and slightly too excited about a B-side.
Why we did it
The mixing desk is older than some of our interns, and it still sounds better than anything new. Some of our most-loved segments started as a joke in the green room. Behind the scenes, the playout system is a small pile of open source tools glued together with very careful shell scripts.
We keep the site lightweight on purpose, so it loads fast on a train, a tired laptop or a phone at 5% battery. We measure success in hours listened, not clicks, which keeps us honest about what actually matters. Some weeks the playlist is meticulously planned; other weeks it is a group chat argument that somehow turns into a show.
The short version
Listeners tell us they tune in while they code, study, drive, cook and occasionally while they should be sleeping. Radio has always been about company, and that has not changed just because the transmitter is now a rack of servers. We record every show, trim the talk, and publish it as a podcast by the next morning.
The studio is small, the monitors are loud and the coffee machine has its own on-call rotation. Nothing beats the feeling of a track dropping at exactly the right moment and the chat exploding with fire emojis. A good transition is invisible: you only notice it when it goes wrong, like a page that flashes white between clicks.
From the request line
We test new segments live, keep what works and quietly retire what does not. The archive now holds more than two thousand hours of shows, all searchable by track and guest. Guests are always surprised by how relaxed the studio is, until the ON AIR light turns red. The studio is small, the monitors are loud and the coffee machine has its own on-call rotation.
We still print the weekly playlist and pin it on the studio wall, mostly out of habit. Every show on ArrayFM starts with a simple rule: play the track you would send to a friend at 2am. Local artists make up almost a third of what we play, and that number keeps going up.
We keep a strict no-autoplay policy on the site: you press play, and then we never interrupt you. Listeners tell us they tune in while they code, study, drive, cook and occasionally while they should be sleeping. We record every show, trim the talk, and publish it as a podcast by the next morning.
What we learned
We learned early that a stable stream matters more than a fancy one. We keep a strict no-autoplay policy on the site: you press play, and then we never interrupt you. Late nights are for experiments: long mixes, ambient sets and the occasional field recording. The request line gets more messages than ever, and our DJs read every single one on air.
Most of our DJs have day jobs in software, design or support, which explains the jokes. Listeners tell us they tune in while they code, study, drive, cook and occasionally while they should be sleeping. We test new segments live, keep what works and quietly retire what does not. Good radio sounds effortless, but every minute on air has at least ten minutes of prep behind it.
- Podcast feed updated nightly
- Shows archived for 90 days
- Request a song from any page
- Stream in 128 kbps MP3 or 320 kbps AAC
Morning shows are for energy, weather, traffic and the one story everyone at work will talk about. Most of our DJs have day jobs in software, design or support, which explains the jokes. Our community Discord is where most show ideas start and where most bad puns go to live forever.
What comes next
The request line gets more messages than ever, and our DJs read every single one on air. Most of our DJs have day jobs in software, design or support, which explains the jokes. Good radio sounds effortless, but every minute on air has at least ten minutes of prep behind it. We record every show, trim the talk, and publish it as a podcast by the next morning. We believe the music should never stop just because you clicked a link.
Our schedule is built in blocks, with softer sounds in the morning and heavier beats after dark. The best feedback we ever got was a single line: “you made my deploy go faster”. The station started as a side project in a spare room and a borrowed microphone. Every show on ArrayFM starts with a simple rule: play the track you would send to a friend at 2am.
If the page reloads, the song stops. So the page does not reload.
We measure success in hours listened, not clicks, which keeps us honest about what actually matters. Guests are always surprised by how relaxed the studio is, until the ON AIR light turns red. If you have ever wondered why a song sounds warmer on air, the answer is a ridiculous amount of compression.
The setup
We believe the music should never stop just because you clicked a link. Local artists make up almost a third of what we play, and that number keeps going up. Every Friday we look at the numbers, and every Friday the numbers say people want more synthwave. We keep the stream running around the clock, which means someone is always awake, caffeinated and slightly too excited about a B-side.
We keep a strict no-autoplay policy on the site: you press play, and then we never interrupt you. The mixing desk is older than some of our interns, and it still sounds better than anything new. Listeners tell us they tune in while they code, study, drive, cook and occasionally while they should be sleeping.
The short version
We keep a strict no-autoplay policy on the site: you press play, and then we never interrupt you. Accessibility matters to us, so every show gets a transcript and every page works with a keyboard. Nothing beats the feeling of a track dropping at exactly the right moment and the chat exploding with fire emojis. Local artists make up almost a third of what we play, and that number keeps going up. The request line gets more messages than ever, and our DJs read every single one on air.
When a listener sends a track we have never heard, it goes straight into the next hour. We keep the site lightweight on purpose, so it loads fast on a train, a tired laptop or a phone at 5% battery. Behind the scenes, the playout system is a small pile of open source tools glued together with very careful shell scripts. We test new segments live, keep what works and quietly retire what does not. Morning shows are for energy, weather, traffic and the one story everyone at work will talk about.
The playlist
The studio is small, the monitors are loud and the coffee machine has its own on-call rotation. We measure success in hours listened, not clicks, which keeps us honest about what actually matters. If you have ever wondered why a song sounds warmer on air, the answer is a ridiculous amount of compression. Nothing beats the feeling of a track dropping at exactly the right moment and the chat exploding with fire emojis.
Every Friday we look at the numbers, and every Friday the numbers say people want more synthwave. Good radio sounds effortless, but every minute on air has at least ten minutes of prep behind it. We keep the site lightweight on purpose, so it loads fast on a train, a tired laptop or a phone at 5% battery. The chat is moderated by humans, which keeps it friendly, weird and welcoming.
We record every show, trim the talk, and publish it as a podcast by the next morning. Some weeks the playlist is meticulously planned; other weeks it is a group chat argument that somehow turns into a show. Late nights are for experiments: long mixes, ambient sets and the occasional field recording.