Most of the radio dial in the Delta sounds like the radio dial everywhere else: syndicated, automated, and interchangeable. A few notches down the FM band, though, a low-power community station still does things the old way, with a live host choosing every record by hand and talking to whoever calls in.

The late-night blues program has become a quiet institution. Its host, on the air for years, plays a mix of Delta classics and obscure regional recordings that no algorithm would ever surface, punctuated by rambling, affectionate commentary about the musicians and the towns they came from.

The audience is small but fierce, and it stretches further than the station's modest signal. Online listeners tune in from across the country, drawn by the sense of hearing something curated by a person rather than a machine.

Community radio survives on donations and volunteer hours, and its future is never secure. But as long as the transmitter holds, the Delta has at least one place on the dial where the music is still chosen the way it was made: by someone who loves it, one record at a time.