UNDERTOWStation manual / field editionRead time: about four minutes. The rest is optional depth.

STATION MANUAL / OPEN LINES

WTF is this?

Undertow is an experimental internet radio station and an adversarial musical instrument, built around Lyria 3.5, Google's full-song music model. Humans call in with ideas. A resident DJ decides whether each call should be preserved, constrained or interpreted. Lyria renders exactly one authorized musical world from it. And the station keeps the exact causal chain underneath the record: who asked for what, what the DJ did about it, what went to the provider, what came back, and what it cost.

The whole arrangement rests on one sentence: the audience gets influence, the DJ retains taste, Lyria retains surprise.

Why would anyone build this?

Two questions, in order of age:

Can Lyria be cornered past its conventional arranger priors into music that feels genuinely undiscovered?

Lyria is very good at producing competent, fully-arranged, vaguely cinematic music from almost any request. That competence is exactly the problem. The research programme is adversarial: identify what the model reaches for by default, close those escape routes, and leave one small, consequential relationship alive that it has to actually think about. Not "make a banger" — corner the instrument.

Can geographically separated people meet in a musical space that did not exist until they transmitted into it?

A radio station is a shared room that nobody owns. Undertow extends that: the room's music only exists because people called into it. That is the social half of the experiment, and it is younger and less proven than the adversarial half.

Both of these are open questions. This manual describes a working instrument and its direction — not a settled result.

How do I play with it?

  1. Tune in. One button. Sound starts when you choose it. The stream follows the station's broadcast clock — you hear what the station is playing, at the point it plays it. It is not a personalized feed and it never will be.
  2. Read the record. The current transmission shows its title, the originating call, the DJ's stated intention and the retained musical brief. Inspection is encouraged. Nothing about what aired is hidden behind a login.
  3. Open the line. Send a thought — a story, a correction, a feeling you cannot name. Up to 1,200 characters. A temporary cookie keeps the line fair for everyone; nothing else is attached to your call.
  4. Understand influence. Your call is influence, not control. The DJ decides where it goes. Some calls become the whole record. Some become one grain of it. Some never reach sound at all — and if the provider refuses a call, that refusal is retained as exactly what happened, not hidden.
  5. Correct it. A correction can revisit a previous interpretation. Corrections are parent-linked to the calls they answer, so the lineage stays readable.
  6. Pull a tape. The room's tape rack holds retained transmissions. Pull one into the booth to replay it, and unfold its insert to read the exact caller → DJ → Lyria chain for that record. The transmission log below the room keeps what has aired.

Being built, not public yet: sign-in, marks on sleeves and public caller credit exist in the station's private build and are on their way to the public room. When they arrive, credit on a public record stays your choice, every time.

What happens when I call in?

One chain, no hidden steps:

  1. CALLERyour text, retained exactly as sent
  2. ROUTEpreserve / constrain / interpret
  3. DJworks only on what the call left open
  4. LYRIA 3.5one authorized generation
  5. PROVIDER RESULTaudio and text blocks, byte-exact
  6. TRANSMISSIONgoes on air, or doesn't — honestly labelled
  7. TAPE / ARCHIVEthe record and its whole chain, kept
  8. RECALLoptional, later

The router sorts calls by what you actually supplied — it is mechanical, not a judgement of quality:

PRESERVE

You already supplied a coherent composition. The DJ gets out of the way: your text goes to Lyria verbatim.

CONSTRAIN

You supplied the interesting mechanism. The DJ closes escape routes around it without inventing a different composition on top.

INTERPRET

You supplied a vibe, a joke, a reference, a feeling, an underspecified desire. The DJ translates its underlying function into a small, fertile musical problem.

When the caller supplies the interesting mechanism, DJ creativity is a liability.

That is station law. The companion law:

Undertow should have a recognisable hand without having a recognisable recipe.

Why does some of it get weird — or fail?

Honestly, because the instrument is stochastic and the bar is high. Specifics:

Lyria is stochastic.
Two near-identical requests can produce different worlds. Neither is a bug; that variance is part of what is being studied.
Provider refusals happen.
Lyria runs behind Google's own filters. When a call is refused, that is a provider outcome — retained as exactly what happened, never retried, never laundered into "moderation". Undertow does not semantically moderate your call's musical meaning at all; the provider's decision is the provider's.
Technical obedience can still be beige.
A prompt can be followed to the letter and produce music with nothing at stake. Compliance and quality are different axes, and the station grades them separately.
Smartie vomit.
The named failure mode: conventional arranger reassurance — extra percussion, pads, arpeggios, harmonic bloom, sections/build/drop/climax, decorative novelty, generic journey — especially when it collapses the possibility of the small world the caller actually asked for. It is a gradient, not a binary; even keepers can have a little of it creeping in at the edges.
One shot.
One call, one draw. If it's beige, that beige is the honest record of what that call produced. Undertow does not secretly farm twenty candidates and show you the best one — that would make every "success" a lie about the instrument.
Failures are kept.
Refusals, ugly tracks, dead ends — they are evidence, not embarrassments. Nothing gets quietly deleted to make the station look better than it is.

What is it trying to sound like?

Not a genre. A set of current north stars — a direction the station steers by, and emphatically not a claim that any of them has been achieved:

Push the fucking button and see what happens.
You don't know where you are yet. Come in anyway.
We can meet somewhere that doesn't exist yet.

When Detroit, Berlin or New York get mentioned around here, they are lineage — where the idea of a station as an instrument came from — never style-imitation targets. Nobody asked Lyria for "Detroit techno" and nobody will.

What is actually under the hood?

The short version, readable in about twenty seconds:

  1. YOUthe public listening room, at the station's address
  2. THE EDGECloudflare Pages; an exact route allowlist; no credentials live here
  3. THE STUDIOan authenticated tunnel carrying only scoped, read-only projections of station state
  4. THE COREPython and SQLite; a persistent producer; the broadcast clock
  5. THE DJpreserve / constrain / interpret; cognition over what the call left open
  6. LYRIA 3.5full-song generation via the Gemini Developer API
  7. THE RECORDprovider-original audio, response blocks, receipts, hashes
  8. THE ARCHIVEevery recording playable with its full chain, in the operator room

Some load-bearing details:

Who decides what

The station separates authorities that most products blur together. If you remember one table, remember this one:

QuestionWho answersWhat that authority is
What did the caller write?The callerExact retained text; never rewritten into "safe" prose
Preserve, constrain or interpret?The routerMechanical, based only on what the call supplied
The musical briefThe DJAuthority only over what the call left open
The sound itselfLyria 3.5One draw; stochastic; the provider's filters apply
What the audio containsAutomated listeningDescription and adherence evidence — never taste
Is it any good?AdrianHuman KEEP / MAYBE / NO; the only taste verdict
What airs nextProgramme machineryBroadcast state, separate from taste
What becomes public?A human decisionExplicit, case by case; nothing auto-publishes

What Undertow does NOT do

Explicitly, because the omissions are the design:

Evidence and provenance

Undertow keeps an unusual amount of trace data, on principle. For a public transmission you can inspect, right on the record: the caller seed, the route it took, the DJ's interpretation, the final provider-bound musical brief, the provider outcome, the recording's identity and duration, historical listening description as secondary evidence, cost where available, and caller attribution where the caller authorized it.

Progressive disclosure, never evidentiary disappearance.

Depth is folded away, not removed. When something is missing, the station says it is missing — absence of evidence in a view is never presented as evidence of absence in the archive.

Why tapes, records, and impossible time travel?

The room has a mythology, and the station is honest about where it starts. Vinyl is the current or recalled performance object. Tape is captured memory — the archive object. The recording deck makes the causal chain physical:

LIVE TRANSMISSION → RECORDING DECK → CASSETTE → ARCHIVE

Future dates, returned transmissions, impossible chronology — that is interface fiction, and it is labelled as fiction. It never fabricates a factual generation or play history. When a tape says it came back from a year that hasn't happened, the underlying record still knows exactly when it was really made.

Costs, support, and the human

Generation costs real money, and the station's design is to show its accounts: the transmitter log on the front page is built to carry the live request-path figure behind the current transmission and the station-to-date provider accounting, with their basis and per-provider breakdown. When the accounting projection is not being served, the log says exactly that — "cost record unavailable" — rather than filling the space with a made-up number.

There is a contribution line on the station page — one-off, toward provider computation. It buys no airtime, no approval, no publication, no musical success and no control of the DJ; it is not connected to live payment yet, and when it is, that will still be true. Money never becomes taste.

The machine is a side effect. The person who built it — Adrian Wedd — works on strange systems, AI integration and adversarial evaluation, and takes real problems that refuse to fit a brief: bring him the problem ↗. That door and the station's ledger are deliberately separate.

For engineers and researchers

The deeper end. Everything below is scoped to its actual evidence — dated, surface-specific, and machine-observed unless a human is named.

Public reading first: the Lyria Chronicles are Adrian's written record of red-teaming Lyria 3 Pro — an earlier model on a different surface, and the lineage this station grew out of. Start with The Ghost of What I Am and The Interrogation. The station's source is private for now; what follows are its integration findings against lyria-3.5 full-song, via the Gemini Developer API's interactions surface (observed 2026-09-06/07, retained specimens):

What the station still doesn't know

This page is built from the station's own configuration and documentation, and a check in the station's test suite fails if its canonical address, route names or authority claims go stale. The listening room is the source of truth for what is live — if this page and the room ever disagree, believe the room.