Wherein we muse on the songs you may or may not know by heart, and at least one that you didn't realize was a Buffett creation.

Let's just get something incredibly obvious out of the way up top about this episode - there was a hiatus in between the time Ryan selected this LP and the time we were actually able to convene and record it.

We canvass the practice of the forty-seven minute drum solo, what it's like to sound a third angrier lyrically than is necessary, fake zombies, and something that comes across like Elvis covering Van Morrison.

Marc Bolan went out like a Roman candle or a speed bump or in some such way an incandescent rock star dies at twenty-nine, and left in his wake a glitterbomb of glam stardust and swagger a mile wide and a few albums deep.

We don't really know how many cc are the appropriate number of cc, but somewhere along the way, somewhere in time, ten seemed like a nice round number and we kind of all went with it.

You may understand the difference between the 'emo' and 'scene' scenes, and you may churn out catchy harmonies like they're growing on trees, but beneath the surface of incandescent melodies lurks melancholy.

That's where we find Jade Lilitri and his erstwhile ensemble, Oso Oso.

It's always interesting learning the origin of a band's name. It may have a nonsensical relationship to the music or it can frame the very nature of that band's catalog. But seldom does a band capture the meaning of its origin as closely as Iron Maiden.

Sometimes you stare into the abyss, and the abyss stares back...in rhythm.

It is tempting with Marvin Gaye to start with the last chapter. To skip ahead to the tragic end, dog ear the page, and work backwards.

And there, in the way back machine, he is...nineteen, staring down the semi opaque business end of a flimsy promotional pressing LP, slapping it on a substandard turntable, and falling hard for whatever bumped and grooved out of the tinny speaker set.