We’re coming up on our 50th episode, folks, and it’s gonna be a big one—Talk Talk. But we’re sensitive folk, and we can’t just jump into the deep end—we need to ease into it! And what better way to ease into Talk Talk than by discussing the last album any of its members ever released—Mark Hollis by Mark Hollis.
It’s time for Angstoberfest to bid a teary, mascara-stained farewell, but not before taking an extra melodramatic bow. So now, one week after covering the best (early-oughts) emo band of all time, we’re traveling to the flipside of the much derided sadness coin with the world’s best nü-metal band: Deftones. That’s right, this episode is all about how Max’s favorite no-longer-guilty-pleasure band slowly transformed from a bunch of So-Cal Korn fans into one of the foremost experimenters in a notoriously conservative genre. But are they really the Radiohead of metal? Or is that a stupid, lazy comparison made by a legion of hacks who don’t know how to talk about anything without referencing Radiohead and have probably never listened to any metal past Metallica’s black album? Sorry, I have a chip on my shoulder about this. Anyway, enjoy! In a sad way! Also: the death of compact discs, Grindr is magic, and the Tom Waits Advent Calendar.
Ladies, Gentlemen, Genderqueers: it is going down. Ever since they heard our lukewarm treatment of King of Limbs back in the Radiohead episode, the Walnut Desk boys have been itchin’ for a fight with your Desert Island pals to defend its honor. And on Saturday the weird fishes finally came home to roost, in a raucous hour of…well, actually rather civil conversation. Andrew even warmed up to the album a little. But will three good-natured bearded men be enough to convince Max that King of Limbs isn’t actually Radiohead’s worst album? Stay tuned for the thrilling answer! Also: DrummersTM, the pathos of Korn scatting, and Phil?!
Things have taken a turn for the anxious this week, as your hosts tackle the storied, unpredictable discography of that most unlikely of great bands, Radiohead. From brit-pop trifles to esoteric electronica to some awfully quaint Bush-era paranoia, we cover every croon, wail, and blip from everyone’s favorite prophets of urban despair.