IMAGE: Leslie Montgomery

In the sub-basement of Portland State University’s Smith Memorial Student Union, which houses the studio of the college’s radio station, KPSU, Rachelle Schmid is debriefing yet another band as it prepares to perform live on her show, Anti-Apathy, about what it cannot do once it is on air. It’s not a long list. In fact, guests—in this week’s case, atmospheric rockers Hello Morning—are more or less allowed to do whatever the fuck they want so long as they refrain from saying words like “fuck,” or issuing any “calls to action.” Aside from those restrictions, it’s pretty much no holds barred. “If you want to juggle or put on a clown nose,” Schmid tells the group, “I won’t stop you.”

Hello Morning does not go the circus route, instead using its 40 minutes of airtime to broadcast its emotionally wrought guitar pop to the greater Portland area. After a brief interview with the band, Schmid proceeds to play two hours’ worth of other local acts, ranging from big-name staples like the Dandy Warhols and Blitzen Trapper to such lesser-knowns as country-funk punks the Quick and Easy Boys and disco throwbacks Strength. In a city where bands should be included on census reports, a radio program focused exclusively on homegrown music is a niche that should’ve been filled long before Schmid wandered onto the airwaves two years ago. And yet, her show was an anomaly then, and still is today. The name Anti-Apathy is, in a way, her own “call to action.”

“Portland is such a huge music town, but the radio stations here don’t take advantage of that,” says Schmid, 31. “I felt like, ‘Why don’t people care about this? Why are they so apathetic about the fact we have a huge music scene here?’”

Schmid is hardly the person you’d expect to be a vociferous booster of local musicians. An English major, before starting Anti-Apathy she was more likely to spend nights locked inside a book than out at a club. After going through a rough breakup, she sought out a new hobby. She spotted a flier calling for new KPSU DJs, and decided it was about as contrary to her solitary writing pursuits as she could get. Anti-Apathy began as a political talk show, but Schmid quickly found it hard to find guests willing to be interviewed. As a lark, she invited her friends’ band, the now-defunct Miss Anne Thrope, to play on the show. The response to the performance inspired her to switch formats. Now, Schmid is a rabid consumer of all things Portland music, with a massive collection from which she builds each week’s playlist.

For someone who knew nothing about radio when she started, Schmid has developed into a charming on-air personality. Prone to giggles, she playfully chides nervous callers and guests and segues seamlessly from promoting a pro-wrestling event to introducing the next song. But she hardly considers herself Portland’s answer to John Peel, breaking bands and making careers (KPSU’s relatively low wattage wouldn’t allow that to happen, anyway—although a syndicated Internet version of the show does receive between 10,000 and 15,000 listeners per week in Taiwan, of all places). Her only goal is to highlight stuff she loves, and have a good time doing it.

“I feel like I have a private concert every week,” she says.