Florida Stage has developed so many new plays in its 24 years that it is easy to forget how hard the act of creation is. And the challenge only increases exponentially when attempting a world premiere musical, like the charming but slight Dr. Radio.

Director-writer Bill Castellino and composer-lyricist Christopher McGovern have been the Manalapan company’s go-to guys for musicals in recent seasons (Cagney!, Backwards in High Heels, Some Kind of Wonderful). But none of these had a fully original score or a new story beyond a show biz biography.

So bear in mind that these talented, theater-savvy guys were working without a net at a task where others have failed utterly.

What they have come up with is a slim, but serviceable tale packed with nostalgia and romance — welcome ingredients in the realm of musical comedy. And it is certainly a comedy, of the giddy, wacky, often-doesn’t-make-much-sense, but-just-go-with-it sort. Plus it has enough of a heart tug to satisfy theatergoers, at least those who have not already given away their tickets upon hearing about Dr. Radio.

It is the tale of Benjamin Weitz, proprietor of a shuttering radio repair shop on New York’s Lower East Side, cleverly realized by designer Tim Mackabee. No, radios have not gone out of fashion, as was once feared when TVs began popping up in homes, but few of us bother to get our radios fixed anymore.

Before he heads off to live in his grown daughter’s New Jersey home, Benji (warm-voiced Wayne LeGette) turns on an old radio and listens — in his mind, at least — to Cannon Street, a vintage story of his bygone youth. It is populated by a fortune-telling tea leaf reader (Elizabeth Dimon), a greedy bank owner (a nutty Irene Adjan), a Latin dance instructor (madcap Nick Duckart, the revelation of the production) and a stranger to the neighborhood named Kate (Margot Moreland), who takes an instant dislike to Benji and, naturally, begins falling in love with him.

To tell any more of the story would be unfair and, besides, there is not much more to tell.

Still, McGovern embellishes it with a score brimming with verve and frequent nods to past musicals, without ever sounding derivative. From Benji’s opening number (I Will Help You Sing Again), crooned to the radio he is currently repairing, to his duet with Kate over their opposite views of the modern age (There’s Nothing Wrong With Things The Way They Are), to the climactic séance sequence where everyone starts singing in an Irish accent — don’t ask — this is as textured, character-rich a collection of tunes as one could hope to encounter.

Castellino’s script is a bit less serviceable. The effect is pleasant enough, but at 80 intermissionless minutes, there is not much time for complexity.