How Good It Is

Somehow I think I undersold it when I called “Blue Suede Shoes” a game-changer. I think about stuff like this a lot when it comes to songs of this nature that I was too young to hear when it first came out: that opening drumbeat on “Like a Rolling Stone.” Grace Slick bursting out of the speakers on “Somebody to Love.” Dick Dale’s Mideast-inspired tones on “Misirlou”. And even the songs that maybe didn’t sound like anything especially new at first, but suddenly turned into a new experience, like

Today’s episode is about a song that might make you wonder who—or what—is watching you. But despite what the title might suggest, George Orwell and Big Brother don’t really have anything to do with it. Alan Parsons was no stranger to a recording studio by the mid-1970s. He had worked on the Beatles’ Abbey Road and Let It Be, and served as an engineer on Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon. Then, while sitting in the canteen at Abbey Road Studios one day, Parsons met songwriter and session pi

I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, but when I first launched this podcast, I recorded the first four or five episodes and then decided that I hated them, so I recorded them again, and that’s what went out to the world. Now, every podcaster looks at their first few episodes and they cringe at how those episodes sound, and I’m no exception to that, but the purpose of re-doing a bunch of these older episodes is to bring them a little more in line with changes I’ve made in formatting and

Despite the allusion in the title, today’s song has no spiritual content or religious references. It’s just a description of life on the road with a hard rock band that’s paying its dues. And, as the band members would tell you, they were–and are–a rock band, not a punk band, thank you very much. AC/DC was formed in 1973 by brothers Malcolm and Angus Young in their hometown of Sydney, Australia. The band name came from an electrical adapter on a sewing machine owned by their sister and not, dea

And once again my voice has a case of Peter Brady. I need to quit recording late at night. We have a variety of diss tracks here for you, all but one of them dating back to before they were even called such a thing, before the rise of hip-hop music. This isn’t to take away from the overall impact of hip-hop on modern music but rather to demonstrate that, once again, what came before can have an influence on what we have now. Kitty Wells walked so that George Harrison could run, and all that. B

Today’s episode is about a song that was written just up the hill from where I was born and in the same town where my wife and and I were wed. So it most definitely “strikes close to home.” Neil Young had emerged from the great north woods of Canada into the public limelight in the mid–1960s. He joined up with Stephen Stills and Richie Furay to create the Buffalo Springfield, an LA-based band that asked the musical question “Stop, hey, what’s that sound” before disintegrating – but not before Yo