I've made a nuisance of myself in a variety of radio stations over the last couple of years, but I always hoped that for my final Radio Daze column I'd be able to drop in on the station that first made me fall in love with radio. Sadly Crawley's Radio Mercury doesn't exist in 2013, having now become one of various supposedly local iterations of the Heart network. So instead, on a Wednesday evening, I've come to poke around at Radio 1: the second station I loved, the one I still love in 2013, and the one that cosmically links almost every British teenager from 1967 to the present day.
It's 6.55pm, and drivetime host Greg James, one of the station's rising stars, is in the final few minutes of his show. His newsreader, Chris Smith, has just recorded a festive version of Blurred Lines called Mulled Wines. James is attempting to convince Zane Lowe, who'll be starting his own show in five minutes, to play Mulled Wines. "Tell you what," Zane decides. "Put up a lyric video. Get a million hits, and I'll play it on my show." Greg's last YouTube endeavour – a version of Miley Cyrus's Wrecking Ball – has already hit 4m views, so Zane may be in trouble.
This is more than a standard radio handover: at 7pm, Radio 1 is thrown over to the sort of non-playlisted music, documentaries and specialist shows often ignored by the station's critics. By the time I cross Radio 1's notorious Live Lounge area to join Zane in his studio, the boisterous New Zealander is a few minutes into his own show. "RIDICULOUS SOUND!" he honks over the music. "FULL OF ENERGY! FULL OF FRESH! That's what we want from our rock bands and there's not enough of them around at the minute… HOLD TIGHT!"
Lowe's dynamic, breathless presenting style tends to leave listeners feeling as if they've been repeatedly but rather enjoyably thumped in the face. He manipulates tracks as they play, festooning them with his own effects and loops on the fly. He also constantly flicks his own mic up and down, interacting with tracks and talking – almost rapping – on the beat. "My wife tells me off for using my radio voice at home," he laughs while the new Chvrches single is playing. "'Don't talk to the kids in your radio voice!' she says. 'I don't have a radio voice!' I say. 'You have a fucking radio voice,' she says."
Zane does indeed have a "fucking radio voice", and his rapid delivery extends to interviews. Alternative artists customarily make a right old fuss about how important it is to talk about The Music but few are capable of actually doing so in a way that's remotely engaging. Zane's enthusiasm, insight (he's been in bands himself, though perhaps the less said of this the better) and unusual vocabulary hoists a string of bunting above entire conversations. But when artists actually can talk, as with this year's extraordinary Kanye West interview, sparks really fly. "The whole point of an interview is to extract information," he shrugs. "If it's forthcoming, just get out of the way and let it happen."
Zane's been with Radio 1 for 10 years, following a spell at Xfm. I tell him that one of my favourite Zane Lowe moments occurred when he was sitting in on the breakfast show. At seven in the morning, a bleary-eared nation was assaulted by an insanely aggressive Skrillex remix. Over the top of this we could hear the voice of Zane Lowe bellowing: "DON'T BE SCARED – IT'S ONLY MUSIC!"
"The first time we heard Skrillex it sounded like someone's hard drive was having a fucking meltdown," Zane laughs today. "Next thing you know he's got three Grammys. People talk about radio as background music. I want FOREground music. I want people to connect the way I have done my whole life. Is that selfish? Music's so devalued. Fuck that, man! I just want music to be A FUCKING FEATURE in people's lives."
As for how Radio 1 itself features in people's lives, that's in a state of flux. Everything – like Greg James's Mulled Wines track – now has to be shareable online; social media permeates almost every show, and interviews are streamed as video as well as audio. The combination of huge resources and a young, technologically savvy audience makes Radio 1 the testing ground for multi-platform ideas that will spread through the rest of BBC radio, and all radio, in years to come. If you want to know where radio's heading, look at Radio 1.
I ask Zane if he thinks, in 10 years' time, that Radio 1 will even still be a radio station. "WHAT a question!" he gasps. "HOLD THAT THOUGHT!" He whacks on a Sam Smith record, then he's back. "Well," he continues, "we need to be in the PUB for this conversation! But despite the internet, and all its unlimited possibility, people still gravitate towards radio. Whether it's Radio 1 or George FM in New Zealand, you have stations you trust, and people you trust working at those stations."
He adds that Radio 1 regularly invites listeners to share their thoughts on where things are heading; it's not a closed door any more. "Whoever's going to carve up the future, it has to be done TOGETHER, right?" he booms. "Whoever's got the fucking ideas, listen to what they've got to say. Everything's changing. As long as radio moves with the things that occupy its audience's time, there's no reason you can't take radio along for the ride. You don't have to leave radio behind. My only philosophy is this: hang with the smart people. This is the time to listen."
Of his own future, Zane adds that he'll be on Radio 1 "as long as I can turn people on to great records. I'd like to think I'll be aware of when it's time to move on". There's little evidence from tonight's show that this will be anytime soon. For Radio Daze, though, it's time to bid farewell.
