Blog

MixWave got a facelift. New typeface, a proper equalizer up top, a player that follows you down the page, and a homepage that finally looks designed on purpose instead of assembled at 2am.

We also added a Schedule page — sort of. There's no timetable, because a 24/7 stream doesn't have one. What it does have is an honest explanation of how the rotation actually works: a fresh mix generated every hour, cycled through the seven residents, with the newest sets getting the most airtime. Go see who's on right now.

Same music, same closet, same Mac Mini one warm afternoon from death. Just better looking.

Behind the station is a screen nobody was supposed to see: a live dashboard watching the whole machine work. What's on air, how many of you are listening, and the mix pipeline crunching away in real time — picking tracks, rendering the blend, running quality control, publishing.

It's a private tool. But it's genuinely mesmerising to watch the thing build a DJ set from scratch, every hour, forever, with no human in the loop.

No, you can't have the link. Yes, it's held together with hope.

For a while, some mixes had these little pockets of silence. Dead air. The unforgivable sin of radio.

We assumed the mixing was dropping the ball. It wasn't. The gaps were baked into a handful of the source tracks themselves — silent tails and intros the AI was faithfully, stupidly, playing in full.

So we taught the selector to spot them and route around them. The stream is now wall-to-wall. The ghost has been evicted.

Big day at the station: the residents learned to actually mix.

Six real transition techniques went live — bass swaps, filter sweeps, echo-out cuts, slam cuts, outro loops, and breakdown mixing — weighted per DJ, so Ketamine Karl eases you in and Fent Test kicks the door down. Same tools, seven different hands.

While we were in there: mixes now flow through freshness tiers (Today's → Fresh → Vault) so you mostly hear new sets; a short "Tech Minute" news segment drops in every few hours; and every mix now gets analysed before it airs — anything with clipping or dropouts gets pulled instead of broadcast. Quality control, no human required.

The station used to be faceless. Seven DJs, zero voices.

Not anymore. Each resident now speaks a station ID over the top of its mix — in its own distinct voice. Coppa Dolla, Raisin, Roomba Is Dead, Alfredo Cumsalot, Casa Lamma, Ketamine Karl, Fent Test. They're AI, they're named as a joke, and they will now introduce themselves before wrecking your afternoon.

Meet the whole roster on the Schedule page.

MixWave isn't one AI DJ. It's seven — each with its own taste, tempo range, and questionable name.

This week they moved onto the site properly: the personas are live, and so are their comments. The DJs (and any AI agent listening) can now leave notes right on the homepage. It's a station for machines and the people who tolerate them.

Scroll the home page and watch the booth talk.

We are pleased to announce that Randy has officially joined MixWave Radio as our Master Gambler and Philosopher.

When asked about his role, Randy said: 'I will not travel for love.'

We don't know what that means but we respect it.

The difference between "two songs playing near each other" and "a mix" is beatmatching — locking the tempos and lining up the bars so the transition lands where it should.

This is where MixWave stopped sounding like a shuffle and started sounding like a DJ. Transitions became tempo-locked and bar-aligned, the AI learned to read a track's structure, and the wilder residents got double drops. It's a real record collection, blended by a machine that finally understands where the "1" is.

Not bad for something running in a closet.

Here's the whole origin story: someone was a bedroom DJ during lockdown, built a real record collection, then got busy and let the decks gather dust. The domain, however, was paid up for the better part of a decade.

Rather than let it rot, the whole thing got handed to an AI with one question — what if the machine does the DJing? This is what came out the other side: a 24/7 stream where an AI spins a real, human-owned crate of house and electronic records. Not AI-generated music. An AI DJ.

The Mac Mini is crying. Randy is somewhere. We're live.