Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are joined by guest Eli Lake. Lake is a columnist with the Free Press and also a contributing editor at Commentary. Find him online at the Free Press or @EliLake on Twitter/X.

Eli’s Music Pick: Stevie Wonder
It’s time to sing some songs in the key of life as we tackle the amazing and iconic second half of Stevie Wonder’s career. From his emergence as Motown’s first truly singular independent artist in in 1972, with Music of My Mind, Wonder blazed a path through the musical Seventies crossing over successfully into ever musical genre, to the point where Paul Simon infamously thanked him -- when accepting a “Best Album” Grammy in 1976 -- for not putting out an album in 1975. 

Stevie owned the American 1970s commercially and artistically in a way that few other of his era did -- David Bowie is a strange but apposite analogue for his effect on British culture of that era -- and even if he tailed off into pleasant innocuousness from the Eighties onward, his musical legacy is deathless. So once again, there’s no need for a lengthy introduction to this (refreshingly brisk!) episode: Everybody knows who Stevie Wonder is, and unless you were born or moved here only five years ago, you will spend nearly half of this episode dancing out of your shoes. Isn’t it lovely?

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are joined by guest Eli Lake. Lake is a columnist with the Free Press and also a contributing editor at Commentary. Find him online at the Free Press or @EliLake on Twitter/X.

Eli’s Music Pick: Stevie Wonder
Happy New Year, everyone. 2024 was a mess, 2025 looks to be every bit as much of a mess, and gloom pervades the national mood. Therefore, it is high time for Political Beats to turn to Stevie Wonder and remind ourselves of what real joy sounds like. There's no need for a lengthy introduction to this (refreshingly brisk!) episode: Everybody knows who Stevie Wonder is, and unless you were born or moved here only five years ago, you can name at least six or seven classic hits of his off the top of your head. But Stevie Wonder's career arc is less appreciated, and in this first episode we are joined by Eli Lake to recount the first half of that career, informally subtitled "The Education of Little Stevie." Joining Motown as a preternaturally multitalented (and charming) eleven-year-old blind boy, the next decade found him learning to first survive, then thrive, then drive the Motown hit machine as he learned the ropes. From a happy harmonica-wielding child stealing stage-time from his labelmates on "Fingertips, Pt. 2" to the teenaged hitmaker of "I Was Made To Love Her" to the self-confident young man cranking out one endlessly listenable hit after another, this episode sees Wonder first get lost in the Motown "machine," figure out its inner workings, and then conquer it. On our next episode, he will leave it behind entirely. But for now, enjoy some of the snappiest hits R&B ever recorded, and the beginnings of the greatest musical career to ever emerge from Motown.

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are with guest Mary Chastain. Mary is a writer and editor at Legal Insurrection. She's also a sometimes contributor to The Hill, Washington Examiner, and Reason, and FEE. Mary is on X at @Mchastain81. 

Mary’s Music Pick: Stone Temple Pilots:
This is another in a series of episodes (think Daryl Hall & John Oates and The Monkees) in which your hosts believe there is a reputation to be restored or repaired. In this case, far too many people seem to look at Stone Temple Pilots with disdain, dismissing them as third-rate Pearl Jam imitators or a product of an audience that was willing to accept pretty much any/every grunge-type act. This, as you'll find out, was not the case.

Or, perhaps the first thing that comes to mind is singer Scott Weiland’s troubles with drug addiction and the law. While true, it doesn’t in any way devalue his contributions to the band and his status as one of the best frontmen of the decade.

What we have here is a band that shared influences with other artists like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Alice In Chains and released a debut album, Core, steeped in that sound. Even then, there were indications STP were not quite like their peers. Bassist Robert DeLeo was a major force in crafting the sound and writing the songs. Guitarist and brother Dean DeLeo pulled not from Pete Townsend and The Who, but from the more experimental later-era Led Zeppelin releases, with monster riffs and chords in line with Jimmy Page’s best work. Eric Kretz was far more than just a time-keeper, adding fills, rolls, and rhythms that were essential to driving the composition.

Purple, the follow-up to Core, has aged wonderfully and is an essential album that helps define the sound of the decade. By then, the band mostly had moved past the sludgy sound for which grunge was known and was beginning to color from a more varied palette. “Interstate Love Song” is one of the most iconic songs of the 1990s for a good reason. Tiny Music . . . Songs From the Vatican Gift Shop was met with muted reception if not downright confusion. What many missed at the time is rightfully regarded now as an immense step forward, as the band blended elements of glam and psychedelic rock, with hints of Bowie, T. Rex, and the Beach Boys in places.

The remainder of the band’s catalog provides strong reminders about the talent contained inside Stone Temple Pilots. Despite hiatuses and break-ups, that’s what should be the legacy of the band. Political Beats now has the receipts to prove it.

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are with guest Andrew Fink. Andrew lives with his wife Lauren and their five children in Hillsdale County, Mich., and is an attorney, Marine veteran, current state representative, and candidate for Michigan Supreme Court. He's on X at @AndrewFinkMI, and his website can be found here.

Andrew’s Music Pick: ZZ Top
No matter how far into the future this show might run, when you stack Political Beats episodes alphabetically, this is the one that always will show up at the bottom. Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to turn the spotlight on "That Little Ol' Band from Texas," ZZ Top. Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill, Frank Beard. Blues, guitars, and boogie. And, of course, later on, synths, drum machines, and sequencers.

Maybe you're like Jeff and your mental picture of ZZ Top is frozen in time around 1983, when Eliminator was soaring near the top of the charts. We're here to tell you you're missing an awful lot from the band. The entire decade of the 1970s featured album after album of incredible music. There's seriously never a misstep. 

Early on, you can hear the influence of and influence on other bands like The Allman Brothers and Lynyrd Skynyrd. ZZ Top figures out early exactly who they are as a band and refine, refine, refine until perfecting it (we think) on 1979’s Degüello. Billy Gibbons, the group’s main songwriter, singer, and guitar player, has a style all his own, a unique approach that cuts through each song, even when he’s incorporating the sound of another player.

At the turn of the decade of the 1980s, the band makes what we consider to be a fairly natural evolution. The tones, beats, and rhythms on Eliminator might seem out of place in a vacuum, but not if you follow the contours of the band’s career. Post-worldwide fame and success is a different story, and one we also tell during the course of this episode. 

By the way, this is the longest one-part show in Political Beats history, surpassing the U2 show, which actually makes some sense. The feeling here was we wouldn't go quite so long -- otherwise we would have split the thing in half! But once we got going, there was too much fun being had and too many good arguments being made to stop. All for the benefit of you, the listener.

They’re bad, they’re nationwide. And now’s the time to discover the full story of ZZ Top on Political Beats.

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are joined by guest Peter Suderman. Suderman is the features editor at Reason magazine. He also writes the Substack Cocktails With Suderman, which is about making better cocktails at home. Find him online at Reason or @petersuderman on Twitter/X.

Peter’s Music Pick: The Dismemberment Plan
The name might sound like you’re in for a three-and-a-half hour barrage of trendily obscure post-punk music with this episode, and you could not be more wrong. Though we’re not going to lie: The first album and a half from Washington, D.C.’s mid-to-late Nineties indie-rock darlings do feel an awful lot like the twitchily inchoate remnants of the Bad Brains/Fugazi regional hardcore scene of the Eighties with a healthy dose of West Coast Minutemen math-rock thrown in as metric ballast. What they quickly settled into around the turn of the century however, with albums like The Dismemberment Plan Is Terrified, Emergency & I, and Change, was not just a genre-defining statement of what “indie-rock” was supposed to be about during what we now know retrospectively -- and jadedly -- as “the PitchforkMedia era” of rock criticism, but timeless music that can still get a crowd of downcast nerds to start dancing uncontrollably as they muse about that time they too got ruinously drunk on New Year’s Eve.

It is quite possible that (outside of that one Robbie Fulks episode) Political Beats may be covering its most obscure rock group to date with the Dismemberment Plan. Click now, remedy that, and open yourself to a life of dangerous possibilities.

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are with guest Nick Lowe. Nick Lowe is . . . wait, you don’t really need a bio for Nick Lowe, do you? If there’s any questions about who he is, please take the time to listen to our lengthy Political Beats episode with guest Matt Murray.

In an interview that has been months in the making, your Political Beats hosts get the opportunity to spend a little more than an hour with the legendary Nick Lowe. Cards on the table, both of us were a little nervous to be speaking with one of our musical heroes. Nick made it comfortable and entertaining, as if anything else would be expected. 

The conversation begins with a discussion about his fantastic new album, Indoor Safari. 

The record is a collection of songs from EPs released over the past half-decade or so, many of the tunes re-recorded or slightly changed from the initial versions. These performances are so crisp, so lively. “Crying Inside,” is a perfect example of a top-notch, sublimely written and executed, late-career Nick Lowe song. “A Quiet Place” could be the single best band performance on the album. “Blue on Blue,” would fit in alongside anything on The Impossible Bird and the Bacharach-influenced “Different Kind of Blue,” truly benefits from the full band arrangement not heard on the version found on the 20th Anniversary edition of The Convincer.

As the liner notes claim, “Indoor Safari isn’t a journey back in time -- it’s a journey out of time, to a music that stands the test of any time.”

We begin our chat in the present but quickly move far afield, with discussions about his early career, the thought process that started his “second half” of music (starting with The Impossible Bird), his songwriting techniques, and a few nerd/fan questions near the end. We hope to have asked a few questions that perhaps haven't been asked before.

Be sure to check out Nick and Los Straitjackets live this fall. 

Tour dates are here

 (Click on "Show All Dates" to see them all.) If you’re out and about, you might see Scot at the Detroit show and Jeff at one of the Chicago shows. After all, we’re big fans.

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) with . . . no guest at all! With Jeff moving his belongings to a new abode while also covering the RNC and DNC for National Review and Scot's vacation schedule creating another hurdle, we felt it was time to break the glass on the window marked "VERY SPECIAL EPISODE."

For those relatively new around here, we've done two VSEs in the past, both when schedules were getting out of control. One compiled our Best Cover Songs and the other listed our Best Soundtracks. In short, some stuff we wouldn't get to cover in a different way. And, by the way, these are pulled off without a guest.

Thinking in that direction for a theme, we present to you the Most Essential/Necessary Compilations. For Scot, this meant one thing: artists/bands who have produced basically no complete albums worth consideration of a full Political Beats episode, but who have a Greatest Hits/Best Of package that contains absolutely everything you need of the singles. Some people really hate buying hits packages because they want to have the artistic statement made by the full album. But you can’t deny there are some collections that are just perfect in their brevity/simplicity. All killer, no garbage album filler to worry about.

On the other hand, Jeff thought about this a little differently: What compilations helped introduce him to the larger work of a band? And, being a post-punk guy, which collections helped bind together swaths of material you can't find elsewhere?

In the end, as usual, you get two slightly different perspectives on the show. You can decide which one is superior.

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are with guest Brad Birzer. Brad is the Russell Amos Kirk Chair in American Studies and Professor of History at Hillsdale College. He is also the co-founder of and senior contributor at The Imaginative Conservative, and the author of a number of books, including Neil Peart: Cultural (Re)Percussions. Find him online at bradbirzer.com or @bradleybirzer on Twitter.

Brad’s Music Pick: Yes
Well, the buses outside don't add much weight to the story in our heads we began in our last episode of Political Beats, so we're thinking we should go and write a punchline; thus, welcome to part two of our discussion of the great progressive rock band Yes, wherein we discuss their career from 1974's Relayer onward to the present day. (Be forewarned -- we pick and choose after the debacle of Union (1991). Fondly remembered: Talk, Keys To Ascension, Magnification and Fly From Here. Not so fondly remembered: erm, Open Your Eyes.)

I could offer more prelude than that, but this is one episode where the music will do vastly more explaining than any written exegesis; Yes bounced back after Tales from Topographic Oceans with an album even more abstruse and outwardly difficult, yet light years more compelling. From that point onward and despite countless personnel changes -- up to and including swapping the "Video Killed the Radio Star" guys straight into their band -- the group maintained its unique sound and creative voice throughout the second half of the Seventies in a series of albums that age like casked scotch. (Check out the vigorous defenses of Tormato and Drama ye shall find herein!) Then the group collapsed after a disastrous 1980 tour and seemed to be over . . . until a South African guitarist/vocalist/songwriter named Trevor Rabin entered the picture.

All this and much, much more is covered on an episode of Political Beats that spans from the mid Seventies all the way to the late Eighties without once pausing for breath. Afterwards, we take a breather here and there, but for now? Tempus fugit, my friends, so you should click, because we're off to the races, going for the one. 

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are with guest Brad Birzer. Brad is the Russell Amos Kirk Chair in American Studies and Professor of History at Hillsdale College. He is also the co-founder of and Senior Contributor at The Imaginative Conservative, and the author of a number of books, including Neil Peart: Cultural (Re)Percussions. Find him online at bradbirzer.com or @bradleybirzer on Twitter.

Brad’s Music Pick: Yes
Tell the moon dog, tell the march hare! We take you close to the edge of the south side of the sky this week as we discuss the early adventures of Britain's answer to all the questions raised by hippies during the Seventies, the New Age of Atlantic: Yes. Yes were one of the pillars of British progressive rock music, but also (perhaps surprisingly) a major commercial success in America long before their peers. They were also a truly singular band during their lengthy heyday; the band underwent endless lineup changes as personalities clashed and artistic visions ran amok, and yet they have always sounded like themselves and nobody else successfully has.

Starting with local janitor Jon Anderson on countertenor vocals, Pete Banks on Hendrixian guitar, Tony Kaye on groovy late-Sixties B3 organ, fussily precise jazz drummer Bill Bruford keeping time, and Chris Squire playing a bass so aggressive it intimidates people into crossing to the other side of the street, Yes exploded out of London's club-gigging scene after drawing inspiration from watching a newly born King Crimson play the circuit. Their early style mixed originals -- first halting, then increasingly assured -- with spectacularly imaginative covers of everything from West Side Story to Buffalo Springfield and Simon & Garfunkel. But as Banks was jettisoned for Steve Howe, and then Tony Kaye traded in for Rick Wakeman, Yes ascended from a series of records beginning with The Yes Album and Fragile (1971) to superstardom, with all that entailed: sidelong songs, triple live albums, and extended soaks in the topographic oceans. All set to some of the most inscrutable lyrics but gorgeous music written during the decade.

So turn on your lava lamp and get ready to call over valleys of endless seas as you and I climb crossing the shape of the morning -- it's time to sink into a elevated musical fantasy world created by Yes during this, the first part of their career. We take the story up through Tales from Topographic Oceans (1973); next time around, we'll get a relayer to go for the one without too much drama, but for now click play and enjoy the sound of perpetual change. 

Introducing the Band:
Your hosts Scot Bertram (@ScotBertram) and Jeff Blehar (@EsotericCD) are with guest Guy Denton. Guy is the co-host of The Wrong Stuff with Matt Lewis, contributor to The Dispatch and National Review, and until recently took Jonah Goldberg's guff over at The Remnant. Find him on Twitter/X . . . nowhere, because he is saner than the rest of us.

Guy’s Music Pick: Echo & the Bunnymen
There's really not much to say about this episode other than that it is the greatest and most important edition of Political Beats ever recorded. That's what singer/rhythm guitarist/world-class ego Ian McCulloch would no doubt say about this discussion of legendary U.K. postpunk greats Echo & the Bunnymen, and this time he might have a point, because this actually is one of the show's white whales: The Bunnymen may not have invented, but truly perfected, the platonic sonic ideal of "postpunk" over a series of four stunning records in the first half of the Eighties and if Jeff's use of descriptive superlatives were clipped and collected on their own, it would probably add up to at least a half-hour of raw time.

The Bunnymen were originally a drumless three-piece bedsit-room band from Liverpool -- vocalist McCulloch, lead guitarist Will Sergeant, and bassist Les Pattinson; it was the drum machine that was nicknamed "Echo" by fans. The addition of Londoner Pete de Freitas on actual drums in early 1980 immediately catalyzed the band: They launched out of the gates with their debut album Crocodiles (1980) and never looked back. From that point onward, they would play not just a major role, but arguably the defining role, in carving out the sonic world we now think of as "postpunk": fiercely arty, fiercely aggressive, and also fiercely beautiful. McCulloch sounded uncannily like one of his most well-known competitors in the postpunk arena -- U2's Bono -- and the run of work they put out between 1980 and 1987 tracks theirs blow-for-blow and is frankly superior in all respects right up until the end.  

And yet from our American perspective (and nearly 40 years after their heyday) Echo & the Bunnymen are often treated as a curious footnote from the world of Eighties music, obscure Brits who recorded That Song You Know From That Movie Soundtrack. They were the furthest thing imaginable from it: one of the most endlessly compelling and rewarding groups of a decade positively exploding with great music. We weren't kidding when we said there isn't really much to say about this episode, because the music will speak more eloquently than any words can. Bring on the dancing horses, and seal your pact with the Dark Mistress of Fortune underneath the killing moon. Perhaps it was your fate -- up against a will -- all along. Click play and never stop.