Somebody should be playing your record.
Radio Records is the music arm of the Radio Co-op, a network of independent, locally owned stations that need music and have transmitters. You have music and no transmitter. That's the whole pitch.
You need a quarter million streams to make a thousand dollars.
At the going rate of roughly four tenths of a cent per play, that's the arithmetic. And when you get there, you still won't know a single name. Not one. You won't know what town they were in, whether they finished the song, or whether they'd drive twenty minutes to see you play. The platform knows all of it. You don't.
Your song went up against a hundred and six thousand others that day, and it will again tomorrow. That isn't a market you can out-hustle. It's a pile.
For three minutes they're just listening to you, undivided, in a place with a name. Radio still reaches 84 percent of American adults every week, more than 225 million people, and roughly nine out of ten minutes of ad-supported listening in a car goes to AM and FM rather than streaming. That audience never left. It just stopped being reachable by anybody without a transmitter.
Radio didn't stop wanting new music. It stopped being allowed to choose.
Consolidation put most commercial stations in this country under a handful of owners, and their playlists get built centrally, hundreds of miles from the transmitter. The person at your local station, if there still is one, often can't add a song even when they love it. That's why every attempt you've made to get on the radio died in a voicemail box.
There is a whole other tier of stations that almost nobody pitches, mostly because most artists don't know it exists. There are 2,007 licensed low power FM stations in the United States, plus hundreds of community and college stations, and they operate under completely different rules.
These are the last stations where a human being can hear a song and put it on the air that afternoon. They've just never been organized enough for you to reach more than one at a time.
A label shaped door, without the label taking your record.
First, what this isn't, because you've been burned by things that sounded like this. We don't want your masters. We don't want your publishing. We don't want an exclusive. There's no advance to recoup, because there's no advance.
Radio Records is a shared catalog. You put a song in, you say how it can be used, and every station in the co-op can find it, hear it, and add it to rotation. When they play it you get told: which station, which market, what day, how many times.
Real airplay
Not a playlist add. Terrestrial radio, on a licensed transmitter, in towns with names, heard by people in cars.
Proof you can use
A monthly airplay report with stations, markets, dates and spin counts. The document you've never been able to produce.
A page that means something
Your music, your story, your links, and a live count of where you're being played. Social proof that isn't follower numbers.
A map you can tour
Airplay clusters tell you which towns already know your name. That's a routing plan instead of a guess.
Introductions
Stations that spin you repeatedly are stations that will interview you, promote your show, and take your call.
You can leave
Non-exclusive, revocable, no term. Pull your catalog whenever you want and nothing follows you out the door.
Put it in a booking email and a talent buyer reads the whole thing. Put it in a grant application and you stop reading as a hobbyist. Say it to the people who keep politely asking when you're going to get a real job and watch what happens.
What we're not going to pretend.
If you're signed to a PRO, meaning ASCAP, BMI or SESAC, you can't wave your performance royalties away and we won't ask you to. That right is administered by them, not by you, and anyone telling you otherwise doesn't understand what they're handling. Your PRO relationship is unaffected. Put the song in the catalog and keep reporting the way you always have. Spins on licensed stations are the kind of thing you want on the books.
You have to actually control what you submit. If there's a co-writer, a producer point, a sample or a label agreement in play, sort that out before you upload. We ask you to confirm it in writing once, because the stations playing you are small nonprofits that cannot absorb a rights fight.
Nobody can promise you spins. Real humans choose the music, which is the entire point and also means it isn't automatic. What we can promise is that your song lands in front of every one of them with your name on it, instead of sitting in a voicemail box.
It takes about ten minutes.
You've been told to build an audience online.
We're offering you one that's already in the car, already listening, and already inclined to care about somebody from around here. All it ever needed was a station allowed to say yes, and now there's a whole network of them.
Sources: Spotify per-stream payout ranges and Loud & Clear reporting, 2025–2026. Music Business Worldwide on daily track deliveries, 2025. Nielsen, Audio Today 2026. FCC Broadcast Station Totals, March 31 2026.