You may be shocked to hear that Lift to Experience made one album. One. A ninety-minute double CD concept record about the apocalypse, set entirely in Texas, written by three boys from Pentecostal and Baptist backgrounds who genuinely believed they had something to say to God. And then, more or less, they vanished.

In this episode we cover the Texas Jerusalem Crossroads in full — the vision behind it, the religious fervour that powered it, and the question of whether you need to share any of that fervour to find the record genuinely moving. We'd argue you don't, and the band themselves seemed fairly relaxed about that.

We also get into the wider story, which turns out to be just as compelling as the music. The album that couldn't be bought in its home country for years. The label that mixed it without the band present and broke their hearts. The tour that never happened. The beard competition. The sandwich grill.

Along the way we ask a question that feels increasingly relevant right now — what does it actually mean when Americans start singing about Texas as the site of the final battle between good and evil? In 2001 it seemed like a grand artistic conceit. In 2025 it feels a little different.

Is the Texas Jerusalem Crossroads the unsung post rock record with actual things to say? We think so. But it's a ninety-minute album, so you've got time to make up your own mind.

Highlights:

00:00 Intro and Whether We’re Actually Living in the End Times

03:11 Album Introduction

04:46 Millennium Anxiety

09:17 Band Origins

11:19 Sound and Influences

12:22 Post Rock With Vocals?!

17:33 Name and Release

19:48 Religion and Meaning

25:46 Art Versus Belief

29:46 Lyrics and Apocalypse

32:00 Track Highlights

33:51 Shoegaze Favourite Track

34:50 Dynamics of Cloud Nine

36:27 Maximalist Texas Vibes

37:03 Album Art Joke Explained

38:56 Religion and Tech Rants

40:53 UK Success US Absence

44:22 Recording Struggles and SXSW Myth

49:19 Bad Mix and Band Fallout

53:17 Aftermath and Cult Legacy

56:02 Reunion and 2017 Reissue

59:41 Remix Reviews and Changes

01:02:42 Apocalypse Talk and Final Thoughts

01:07:45 Outro

You may be shocked to hear that musicians sometimes lie about who they are. Some may say this is not shocking at all - it's almost a tradition. But there's a meaningful difference between Ziggy Stardust and a band from North Dakota claiming to be a Chinese black metal act to game the press.

In this episode we try to map that difference. We spend a healthy portion of time on what we're not talking about - aliases, concept bands, anonymity for anonymity's sake - before getting into the genuinely murky territory of bands that have used fabricated identities for commercial advantage. We cover the fake Zombies that toured America simultaneously in 1969, The Masked Marauders and the elaborate Rolling Stone prank that accidentally became a real album, Silibil n Brains, Dundee rappers who got signed to Island Records on the strength of their American accents, before discussing Ghost Bath, the project that brought this whole phenomenon into focus for us.

Along the way we also get into AI-generated music, Milli Vanilli (and why what they did is arguably less dishonest than what plenty of current pop stars do routinely, and a genuinely unresolved case involving a supposedly Iraqi black metal band that may or may not have put its members in real danger.

The question running through all of it: does context change how we hear music? And if it does — what does that say about us?

Highlights:

00:00 Introduction

01:24 Catfish and Hoax Bands Explained

02:11 Patreon

05:10 Famous Death Hoaxes

05:42 Mystique Versus Scams

09:02 Not Aliases or Roleplay

10:43 Anonymity and Masks

13:23 Fake Touring Lineups

19:03 Concept Bands and Bits

24:28 AI Bands and Deception

27:54 Outright Music Scams

30:13 Milli Vanilli Then and Now

30:53 Pop Star Fraud Culture

33:39 Mask Marauders Hoax

35:20 Orion Elvis Impostor

38:50 Platinum Weird Backstory

40:25 Syllable American Rap Ruse

43:38 Jana Mystery Metal Band

46:06 Velvet Cocoon Troll Scam

48:36 Ghost Bath Identity Debate

54:40 Context and Cultural Relativism

58:10 Ghost Bath Fallout and Ethics

01:02:53 Outro

You may be shocked to hear that Green Day have a lot of songs. Some may say, in fact, that they have too MANY songs, because there does come a point where they all just blend into on another.

In this episode we explore this phenomenon, and it is exclusively (in our view) an issue that plagues the latter half of their career. We cover everything from American Idiot to Saviors, and whilst not all of these albums are afflicted in such a way, it definitely seems to become more prevalent as we more closer to the present era.

We also ask a crucial question - is Green Day punk? The answer is probably not quite what you expect, but we do debate the finer points. Suggesting that perhaps they could be Schrodinger's punx...

All this leads us to trying to answer the real question - is Insomniac Green Day's unsung classic?

Let's find out.

Highlights:
00:00 Intro
01:53 Car Album Debate
05:07 Legacy Act Question
09:31 Setting Up American Idiot
10:24 American Idiot Phenomenon
14:22 Stadium Band Status
23:08 Broadway And 21st Century
31:15 Uno, Dos, Tre And Rehab
35:38 Revolution Radio To Father Of All
37:38 Father of All Reappraisal
39:03 Critics vs Short Runtime
39:49 Side Projects and Salty Pretzel
43:18 2020 Output and Pandemic Era
44:18 Saviors and Derivative Sounds
48:42 Compression and Phone Listening
52:49 Is Green Day Punk?
01:00:28 Defining Punk and Yardsticks
01:19:59 Insomniac Context and Backlash
01:21:21 Critics and Rawness
01:22:22 Sales and Fan Backlash
01:24:01 Honest Bridge Album
01:26:28 Opening Tracks and Tone
01:30:29 Singles and Track Picks
01:32:56 Production and Gear Talk
01:39:54 Songwriting and Label Control
01:53:48 Closing Tracks and Verdict
01:59:22 Wrap Up and Goodbyes

Could it be done? Is it possible to call anything Green Day have ever released both unsung AND (crucially, because there's a fair bit of 'meh' in their catalogue) good? Well folks, this week and next we're going to do our very best to find out. And we're joined by our good friend Rick Bruce from Coffin Mulch and Moonshine Docks.

Our contention? That their fourth album, Insomniac, is an unsung classic. This is all relative of course--in the 90s and 00s they sold bucket loads of records. How many people had copies of their records knocking about in their car footwells before 2010? Probably millions.

And it hasn't stopped. They're still pulling down millions of streams per month. Objectively, they are huge. And somewhat less objectively, they're probably the biggest punk band ever, and certainly one of the biggest bands on earth.

I mean, Insomniac itself isn't even their lowest selling record. And in this episode, we don't even get to it! It's a two parter after all.

No, in this episode we talk about everything from the 1000 Hours EP right up to, and including, Warning. With a brief detour into Pinhead Gunpowder too. We'll tackle Insomniac itself in our next episode--as is our way.

Timestamps:

Charles Bradley’s cover of Black Sabbath’s Changes is one that both hosts of this podcast believe could well be the definitive version of the song. And we say that having done three episodes on Black Sabbath — an odyssey that gave us both a newfound appreciation for one of, if not the, most important metal bands to have ever existed.

Changes itself is a great song, but this emotional reworking casts an entirely new light on its meaning and power. That, in turn, led us to dive into the work — and world — of Charles Bradley.

Much was (rightly) made of Bradley when the then 62-year-old “Screaming Eagle of Soul” burst into public consciousness in 2011 with his debut album No Time for Dreaming. He was met with widespread critical acclaim, and the record proved a major success for his label, Daptone Records. From there, he went from strength to strength, releasing two more albums before his untimely death in 2016 from stomach cancer.

A former James Brown impersonator, Bradley’s life was one of tremendous hardship, which ultimately saw him achieve his greatest dream. He burned brightly and briefly, and his final record, Changes — named after the excellent Sabbath cover nestled within — is a remarkable work to bow out with.

In this episode, we talk all about his life, through the lens of the 2011 documentary Charles Bradley: Soul of America, before discussing some of our favourite soul covers of rock songs.

If you enjoyed this episode, do take some time to check out our Patreon, where you can get early access to episode (with no ads), bonus content and much more.

Bowie fans have long found ways to make peace with some of the more unsavoury aspects of his character and behaviour during that decade. His Thin White Duke persona highlights what, by his own admission, were “the darkest days” of his life. And while he was quick to distance himself from that character as he grew older, its influence on certain members of the British far right certainly left a mark.

Yet there is a much darker period of his life than this. It is now a matter of record that he was in sexual relationships with both Lori Maddox and Sable Starr — perhaps the two most infamous “baby groupies” of the early ’70s — when they were just 13 and 15 years old, respectively. Grim stuff all round.

We’ll be exploring both of these aspects of his life in this week’s episode, as well as the wider “baby groupie” culture of the era. This episode raises questions about separating the art from the artist, the role of 1970s rock culture, and the personal responsibility of fans. Join us as we navigate the challenging waters of moral grandstanding and personal hypocrisy, questioning if, and how, we can reconcile admiration for Bowie’s art with the transgressions of the man himself.

Highlights
00:00 Introduction
00:38 Unfinished Business with David Bowie
02:26 Trigger Warnings
04:05 David Bowie's Complex Legacy
13:57 Fascism and Controversial Statements
38:50 Sexual Misdeeds and Allegations
41:05 Introduction to Statutory Rape in Rock Culture
41:30 The Story of Dana Gillespie and David Bowie
42:34 Lori Maddox and the Baby Groupies
43:29 Sable Starr and the Rock Scene
45:05 The Culture of Underage Groupies
47:24 Laurie Maddox's Relationship with David Bowie
56:51 Jimmy Page and Laurie Maddox
01:00:06 The Wider Problem in Rock Culture
01:07:45 Modern Reflections on Past Actions
01:14:58 Conclusion and Final Thoughts

We're back after a fairly shambolic three weeks in our lives (redundancy sure does suck) with this slice of fried gold from the 1980s.

You've almost certainly heard the lead single from this record. In fact, the question as to who the singer is of the song "The Warrior" has quite likely come up on a pub quiz at some point, and you've quite likely got the answer wrong. The answer is not, as you may think, Pat Benetar. It's Patty Smyth.

The single this album is named after was an 80s hit, and penned by the legendary Holly Knight. We won't go into a huge amount of detail on her here, but suffice to say we think she's criminally underrated given some of the ginormous tunes she penned in the 80s. Indeed, we cover that in extensive detail in our episode on her short-lived band Device.

Scandal imploded soon after this record was released, and members of the band, Patty included, went on to have varying degrees of success in the late 80s and early 90s. Patty Smyth's story itself is a fascinating one, so fascinating in fact that we actually forgot to talk all about her marriage to Television's Richard Hell. That one glaring omission aside, we do a pretty deep dive into Scandal and her career afterwards.

This week we're diving into why bands like Godspeed You! Black Emperor and King Gizzard are pulling their music from Spotify - and why it probably won't change anything.

It's a trickier situation than it seems, but the whole mess starts with Napster in 1999. 80 million people sharing MP3s illegally crashed the music industry, dropping revenue 15% in four years and creating a chain reaction that led to piracy running rampant for much of the 00s.

Enter Daniel Ek in 2006 with Spotify, which was built initially using pirated music from The Pirate Bay, telling you everything about how much they value artists. But it worked. By offering free access to entire music catalogues (with ads), Spotify created something no competitor can match without hemorrhaging money.

Today, 412 million people use Spotify's free tier. That's the foundation of their dominance - not the 263 million paying subscribers.

But this creates an impossible situation for artists. Big names with established fanbases can afford to leave, but new artists risk invisibility. Record labels and promoters judge bands by Spotify monthly listeners and post-gig discovery relies on easy music access, meaning that pulling your music from this platform could be potentially damaging for their careers.

The "just use Bandcamp" argument misses the point - it's a different business model entirely. Bandcamp is buying a car; Spotify is hiring any car you want. And as it turns out, a LOT of people prefer hiring now.

But the real problem isn't Spotify - it's "technofeudalism." Tech platforms operate like medieval fiefdoms where users become trapped serfs. Artists complain about Spotify royalties while creating free content for Instagram and TikTok, which monetise their labour through surveillance capitalism.

The arms investment angle (Daniel Ek's €600m in AI weapons) sounds damning until you realise Google runs military AI projects for Israel, Meta builds battlefield AR for the US military, and all big tech props up the military-industrial complex.

Their conclusion is bleak: there's no way out. The market expects free music and won't change. Mass boycotts might work but won't happen. The only real solution is direct artist support - gigs, merch, Bandcamp purchases, because it's almost impossible for anyone to truly extricate themselves from terrible machinery of the current internet era.