#retro radio stations

[tvneon]

[fuzzyghost]

[kply-industries]

[basickabyl]

After finishing things up with the frat house shenanigans we get another call, this time from a young man by the name of Eugene. He's been promised a romantic time in the Maize Maze but seems to have been stood up. What's worse is he can hear whistling, and its getting closer.

Due to a hiccup in recording Thyme's audio was mixed with the game's. To make it easier to understand what he's saying, subtitles have been provided.

Killer Frequency is a first person horror adventure where you play as a late night radio host burdened with the duty of answering rerouted 911 calls. There's a slasher on the loose in the tiny town of Gallows Creek and the police are out of commission, so it falls to Forrest Nash of 189.16 - The Scream to save the lives of the goofy townsfolk trying to make it to morning. With the help of our producer and sound engineer Peggy Weaver we help the town jazzercize, hotwire cars and order pizzas to thwart the Whistling Man and try not to give Ponty any more free ad time.

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Join our Discord server!: https://discord.gg/ZCuEwuEWX3

New lets play videos daily!: https://www.youtube.com/c/BasicKabyl

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[vintage-leisure]

Fresh up on the website it’s a book review of a memoir from one of the two biggest voices of AM radio in the 1960s - it’s your cousin and mine, Cousin Brucie. Click the link for the full skinny on this book about a living legend.

[scottguy]

We had some pretty cool science toys back then.

[theaskew]

Lyrics

I see your face in the perfect sand. And with a kiss, I know I'm losing my way. I get a feeling I just can't explain… I'll be your candle in the pouring rain.

She take the one and left the chump behind. She left her heart on Hollywood & Baker. You call her "Poppy" but it's just a name… I'll be your candle in the pouring rain.

La La La La La La La

She take the one and left the chump behind. She left her heart on Hollywood & Baker. You call her "Poppy" but it's not her name We did it all, but was it all in vain?

La La La La La La La

I see your face in the perfect sand. And with a kiss, I know I'm losing my way. I get a feeling I just can't explain… I'll be your candle in the pouring rain.

[jawaradio]

Listen to 70s 80s Hits Radio

Listen: http://jawaradio.com/radio/canada/70s-80s-hits-radio

canada #70shitsongs #OnlineRadio #70shitsongs #RetroSongsRadio #internetradio #digitalradio #radioplaylist #radios #fmradio #radiodirectory

We play great variation, rock and popular music over the 70s and 80s.

[greengeckocreative]

Check out this design here!

Check out this awesome '99.3 Mono Retro FM' design on @TeePublic! Check out this design here!

[tvneon]

[darkpiratestories]

Abandoned 1950s TV and Radio Station with Unique Architecture

This 1950s Broadcast Center controlled transmissions of television and radio signals to a central part of Europe and it was equipped with emergency broadcast studios and diesel generators in case of power failure. Broadcasting was ceased in late 2010, as shortwave and medium-wave broadcasting services were phased out. After more than 80 years of operation it has been abandoned, waiting for better tomorrow.

[basickabyl]

Having played with the corkboard enough, we return to our duties and take another call. This time we get asked to help a woman enter her building after forgetting the new security systems entry code. Can we figure it out? Should we?

Killer Frequency is a first person horror adventure where you play as a late night radio host burdened with the duty of answering rerouted 911 calls. There's a slasher on the loose in the tiny town of Gallows Creek and the police are out of commission, so it falls to Forrest Nash of 189.16 - The Scream to save the lives of the goofy townsfolk trying to make it to morning. With the help of our producer and sound engineer Peggy Weaver we help the town jazzercize, hotwire cars and order pizzas to thwart the Whistling Man and try not to give Ponty any more free ad time.

___

Join our Discord server!: https://discord.gg/ZCuEwuEWX3

New lets play videos daily!: https://www.youtube.com/c/BasicKabyl

___

[cumberbatchitis]

Please Help Me Find This Mysterious Song

Tumblr, I do not do this often, but please please can you help me with this? I know you are better than other websites who have all failed me so far... For many years I have been looking (alas, in vain) for a certain song. Very likely a novelty one, though I do not know – I have never caught its name nor the name of the singer. I heard it once or twice on a radio station which only aired retro songs, so it was probably from 1960–80s. Now this one song was sung from a first-person perspective – the singer (almost as desperate as I am) was a classical violinist who longed to be a rock n roll star, which is what he soulfully crooned in the refrain. It was a fun, bittersweet song and always reminded me of Kinks stylewise (though it is very likely not their song).

Nobody seems to know this song, no website or forum dedicated for searching for lost songs has ever helped me, whenever I type in the snippets of the lyrics I remember (for example, something like "the duke told the duchess that he thought that I had talent, the duchess winked at me and said Oh yes, it's quite apparent"), Google pretends it has never heard of it. But I know it exists (I have a witness who heard it with me) and I MUST find it. I will not have peace to die until I find this song. I will continue haunting this Earth as a mournful wraith unless I find it, which is a distressing notion.

Do you have any idea what it might be?

(My eternal gratitude for reblogs.) EDIT (30/11/2023): I think I might have lead all of you astray with the focus on duke and duchess. They are not that important, really. The singer himself, his desire to be a rock n roll star while he is stuck playing classical violin is the important part. But thank you all and please keep this post going, maybe someone will remember what godforgotten old song this is...

[v1ctor1asecretangel]

Totally Trippn'

peter maximoff x reader

song i recommend listening to: strange by galaxies 500

warnings: fluff fluff fluff! acid, got super sappy corny at the end.... and not proof read ya girl is way too tired for that

word count: 1.7k

notes: im sorry if this is not completely accurate to an acid trip, im just speaking from the little experience i have with psychedelics😞 im really not sure if i like this one. i might delete it

You and the famous speedster, Peter Maximoff, sit cross legged facing each other on the worn, threadbare rug in his dimly lit basement. The room is cluttered but uniquely his, with a mix of stolen street signs propped against the walls and posters of rock legends layered into collages. The faint glow from a neon sign stolen from a roadside diner casts shadows that gaze along the cracked walls.

“Alright, babe, three…” Peter’s voice, usually so quick and teasing, carries a slight tremor of anticipation. His silver hair gleams dully in the low light, catching the glint of an old string of fairy lights that dangle from the ceiling. He licks his lips, hesitating slightly, eyes darting to meet yours with a knowing smile before he continues. “Two…”

A hush falls over the room, a heartbeat of suspense that seems to echo in the narrow space between you.

“One.”

On one, you both squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Your hands tremble slightly as you bring the small, bitter squared tab to your tongue, feeling the smooth surface dissolve almost immediately.

You open your eyes hesitantly, blinking as the dim light of the basement seems sharper, almost electric. The scattered glow from the neon sign throws soft, jagged reflections across Peter’s face, highlighting the nervous curve of his lips. The room feels like it’s holding its breath.

“Do you feel anything?” you ask, the skepticism in your voice cutting through the silence. Your pulse quickens as you glance around, waiting for something, anything, to change.

Peter shifts, running a hand through his silver hair, which falls messily over his forehead. His eyes dart from the stolen street signs to the peeling posters, as if searching for a sign of the drug’s effect. A muscle in his jaw tightens, and he chuckles dryly.

“No, Babe. Psshhhh image if we got scammed.” His voice carries a playful edge, but you can sense the underlying disappointment in his tone. He leans back, one hand drumming an impatient beat on the floor, while the other toys with a loose thread on his dark jeans.

“Hey, listen, in my defense, I told you not to buy it from that sketchy guy. I mean, who knows where he even got it? For all we know, it could be paper,” you say, half joking and raising your eyebrows for emphasis. The words hang in the musty air, mingling with the faint buzz of "wave of mutilation" by The Pixies coming from the radio crackling in the corner from the local station.

Peter’s head snaps up from where he’s been staring at his lap. His eyes, sharp and narrow with playful accusation. “Oh, and whose bright idea was it in the first place to try it?” He grins, that crooked, mischievous smile that always means trouble.

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a grin of your own. “Everyone’s doing acid, Peter! It’s like… totes all the rage,” you say, emphasizing your words with an exaggerated wave of your hands. The neon sign behind Peter flickers, casting a glow once again on his silver hair and making the room feel like a scene straight out of an underground music video you would see on MTV.

He scoffs, shifting his weight as he leans back onto his hands. “Yeah, well, next time we’re buying from someone who doesn’t look like they crawled out of a dumpster behind the arcade,” he mutters, a laugh bubbling up between the two of you.

It’s been about 20 minutes, the room now filled with a palpable energy as the two of you drifted into your own rhythms. The time had been filled with you spinning around in worn socks on soft carpet, dancing to some retro tune blasting from Peter’s most likely stolen record player. The vinyl spun smoothly. The needle crackling every so often with the imperfections that made it sound warmer, more alive.

Meanwhile, Peter stood hunched over his.....also stolen....... arcade machine, fingers flying over the joystick and buttons with practiced ease. The glow from the Pac-Man screen bathed his face in blues and yellows, making his silver hair shimmer like quicksilver. The chiming 8-bit sound effects mixed with the thumping beat of the record, creating an oddly perfect symphony of chaos.

Peter let out a triumphant whoop as the little pixelated Pac-Man devoured another ghost, his laughter adding to the cacophony of the room.

You come up behind him, your arms sliding around his waist as you press your cheek against the back of his t shirt, the fabric rough but comforting. “Winning, Mr. Maximoff?” you ask, your voice slurring slightly as a lazy smile spreads across your face. The room pulses to the beat of the song still blaring from the record player rattles the dusty trinkets on the shelves.

“As always, babe,” he replies, the cocky lilt in his voice unmistakable. With a quick, fluid movement, he spins around to face you, his hands finding their place on your hips, fingers gripping just enough to steady you. His grin is wide and playful, eyes glinting with that signature spark that made him seem larger than life.

The neon light in the corner casts a pinkish glow over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw. But as you stare into those eyes, eyes that seem to dance with adrenaline you realize the world behind him is beginning to tilt and swirl, the edges of your vision rippling like water.

“Peter… I don’t think we got scammed,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with awe and the first shiver of realization. The room shimmers around you, the posters on the wall seeming to shift and breathe, their colors deepening to a surreal vibrancy.

Peter’s grin widens as he registers your words, a flash of excitement lighting up his face. The world around you is no longer static the posters and neon signs seem to pulse in time with the music, their colours bleeding and shifting in a mesmerizing display.

“Then let’s make it count,” he says, eyes gleaming as he pulls you closer. Without waiting for a response, he spins you into the open space of his basement. Your heart races, the beat syncing with the song as you twirl. The colors in the room seem to merge into streaks of electric blue, hot pink, and bright yellow, trailing behind you both..

Peter’s silver hair glows like liquid metal under the shifting light, and his laughter echoes, rich and contagious. He moves with an easy, confident rhythm, stepping side to side and dipping you back with dramatic flair, only to pull you upright again. You can’t help but laugh, a sound that bubbles up and escapes your lips like it’s been caught in a loop.

The walls appear to ripple, the posters of rock legends winking at you as if they, too, are in on the joke. The stolen street signs seem to sway, letters twisting into words that make no sense but make you giggle nonetheless. Peter’s hands grip yours as he spins you out, and when he pulls you back, your eyes meet his. The room seems to blur at the edges, but his eyes are sharp and focused, grounding you even as everything else drifts away.

“You’re totally trippin’ now, aren’t ya?” Peter teases, his voice a blend of cockiness and joy, eyes bright and wild.

“Yeah,” you reply, breathless and beaming. The room feels endless, like you’re spinning in a neon-lit galaxy, and Peter’s laughter is the only sound that keeps you tethered to this moment. The song builds, crescendoing in a flurry of synthesized chords, and you both move in a synchronized, reckless dance, your bodies swaying and weaving through the rainbow blur that’s become the room.

Each step feels weightless and each spin eternal. The world outside fades to nothing, leaving only you, Peter, and the music.

You and Peter tumble over to his bed, laughter bursting from you both as you land in a playful heap. The mattress dips under your weight, enveloping you in its warmth as you lie back, arms stretched out in a starfish position, fingers intertwined. As you look up at the ceiling, you’re surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colours. Posters of bands, movie icons, and neon signs all looking for your attention, illuminated by twinkling fairy lights that dance like stars.

At the peak of your trip, the room feels alive, everything around you swirling in a vibrant, twirly motion. “Whoa, this is, like, totally rad!” you exclaim, your voice laced with exhilaration. “It’s like we’re floating through space or something!”

Peter turns his head, his silver hair catching the light in a halo. “For real, babe! It’s like we’re in a dream, and all this is just for us,” he replies, his grin infectious, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re like my ultimate cosmic companion!”

You chuckle, your heart swelling with affection. “And you’re the best thing since cassette tapes, Peter! I can’t even fathom how lucky I am to be here with you. You make everything feel, like, way more alive!” The warmth of his hand in yours anchors you, grounding you in this moment.

Peter’s playful demeanor shifts, his gaze softening as he leans a little closer. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. You’re my ride-or-die, my partner in this life,” he says, his voice earnest. “With you, I feel like I can take on the whole world, like I’m unstoppable.”

You gaze into his eyes, feeling the sincerity behind his words wash over you like a wave. “Promise me we’ll always stick together, no matter what craziness life throws at us,” you say, vulnerability creeping into your tone. “You’re my heart, Peter.”

“Always, babe,” he replies, his voice steady, the connection between you palpable. “We’re a team, like the best duo ever. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

As he inches closer, the vibrant colors of the room seem to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you suspended in this moment. Your heart races as the air between you thickens with anticipation. In a heartbeat, you lean in, and your lips meet in a soft kiss.

The kiss deepens, igniting a spark that flows throughout your entire being. Time stands still, and the world around you disappears, leaving only the warmth of his lips and the bond of love that binds you together.