//00:00//Neil Young’s On The Beach (1974)//On Music Friends via Geese//On the perils and glory of vinyl addiction//On Neil enters the chat//On Neil as we know enters the chat//On American Hero Neil//On cautiously optimistic depression rock//On perfectly imperfect Neil//On Wurlitzer slap slap slap//On No Country For Honey Slides//On Sautéed Marijuana Depression Rock//On going to the radio interview and ending up alone//On 10 million dune buggies coming down the mountain//On Charlie Manson—secret genius??//On hating and secretly loving 80s Neil//On sneaky influential album//On artists left-turning//
//(55:07)//Rosalía’s Lux (2025)//On life between your rosary and your cigarette case//On masterpiece obligation//On grappling with the grandeur and totality of this record//On shared shamelessness around Barcelona//On a sneaky breakup record//On the worst part of this album is Rosalía’s hotness//On let’s talk about Yves Tumor on Berghain//On celestially hypnotic Rosalía//On God Bless vinyl goodies//On the 3% being 84 separate entities//On being Mahomes in her pocket//
//(2:05:14)//Preview of episode//28//
Lux is Latin for light. Only 18 words of the album’s 3,622 present in Western Civilization’s ancestral mother tongue, but don’t take the bait. Lux is pursuant of it however it manifests for you. Don’t take the bait or get distracted and eventually you’ll bask in it.
Maybe the contours of the movements will move you. A holy and earthly thematic arc tracing the record that could make your favorite Prog band shudder. Earthly existence juxtaposed with heaven. Sacred and profane not separate poles to judge from but of a piece in humanhood at large.
Maybe. Maybe not. Beneath Spanish spoken or Ukrainian sung or Italian obliterated. Below God and womanhood and what happens after. Above the density, brilliance and grandeur is Rosalía’s voice.
With authority absolute and ambition approaching apex, across an album dripping with what is and isn’t divine, it’s her voice that is assuredly celestially hypnotic.