We close out the 10th season of Transmissions with a special look under the hood with Justin Gage, who founded Aquarium Drunkard 20 years ago in 2005. Initially envisioned as just a place to share cultural recommendations with friends, Aquarium Drunkard blew up as the blog rush began. Suddenly, Gage found himself running a respected media outlet. 20 years later, he joins host Jason P. Woodbury to discuss how Aquarium Drunkard has stayed true to the maxim of only the good shit. In this frank back and forth, the two colleagues share how an ethos that puts music and deep engagement with it at the forefront feels like a counter-cultural endeavour in this day and age, and how they’ve managed to keep in touch with the love of art that initially inspired Aquarium Drunkard.

You can read a ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠full transcript⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Stream a ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, as well as selections from our guests. Transmissions is a part of the ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Talkhouse Podcast Network⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts.

This week on the show, something different: an extra-sized Transmission that’s been locked in the vault for years, a two-hour talk with singer/songwriter Damien Jurado. 

Way back in 2022, host Jason P. Woodbury sat down with Jurado in the recording studio at Gold-Diggers in Los Angeles for a career spanning conversation, exploring the stories behind his oracular visions, his history, and his collaborators, including the late Richard Swift. The idea was that perhaps the talk would be chopped up for a mini-series, but the project never materialized—and instead this revealing talk was locked away on a hard drive, that is until now, as the time has come to share it via Transmissions.

Woodbury been listening to Jurado’s music for about 25 years; first encountering his 2000 Sub Pop release Ghost of David, a haunted album of lo-fi folk songs. Years later, Jurado’s sound bloomed into psychedelia when he began collaborating with the late Richard Swift for 2010’s Saint Bartlett, which was followed by the Maraqopa Trilogy, a series of psychedelic epics. Jurado has been on a tear since—sharing a string of self-produced recordings that include 2021’s The Monster Who Hated Pennsylvania, 2022’s Reggae Film Star, and three albums in 2023, Sometimes You Hurt the Ones You Hate, Motorcycle Madness, and Passing The Giraffes. Recently, he’s expanded the view of these albums with a series of demo collections shared also by his own label, Maraqopa Records.  

Jurado’s songs are worlds meant to be lived in, full of strange characters in dream states, caught between the static on flickering TV channels, and with this episode, the penultimate, which is a fancy word for “second to last” of our 10th season, we explore those worlds with the man himself.

You can read a ⁠⁠⁠⁠full transcript⁠⁠⁠⁠ of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. ⁠⁠⁠⁠Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. ⁠⁠⁠⁠ Stream a ⁠⁠⁠⁠playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions⁠⁠⁠⁠, as well as selections from our guests. Transmissions is a part of the ⁠⁠⁠⁠Talkhouse Podcast Network⁠⁠⁠⁠. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts.

On the cover of Deerhoof’s new album, Noble and Godlike in Ruin, is an image of the band’s lineup—Satomi Matsuzaki, Ed Rodriguez, John Dieterich, and Greg Saunier—collaged together into one strange visage. Given that the album’s title is drawn directly from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, this cobbled together assemblage makes sense, but it also doubles as a handy metaphor for Deerhoof’s identity as a band. Together, they equal more than the sum of their parts; working together in radical co-operation, they become  one art rock organism. 

By the time most bands reach their third decade, they’ve settled into a groove, but Deerhoof seems custom built to resist static stasis or aesthetic complacency. Noble and Godlike in Ruin pulls from free jazz, prog rock, noise, and j-pop, resulting in a sound that is at once recognizable as Deerhoof, but nonetheless surprising, even to the band’s members themselves. Focusing in on sci-fi futurism and some of the most directly political songs of the band’s vast discography, it’s a triumphant work that illustrates what makes Deerhoof one of the most fascinating bands in all of indie rock. 

This week on the show, Satomi Matsuzaki and Greg Saunier join Jason P. Woodbury for a winding discussion about the new album, the current political moment, haute cuisine, the function of art, and at the very end—some Star Trek discussion.

You can read a ⁠⁠⁠full transcript⁠⁠⁠ of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. ⁠⁠⁠Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. ⁠⁠⁠ Stream a ⁠⁠⁠playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions⁠⁠⁠, as well as selections from our guests. Transmissions is a part of the ⁠⁠⁠Talkhouse Podcast Network⁠⁠⁠. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts.

Do you ever connect with an old friend and find that, despite however many years it's been, you pick up right where you left off, as if no time has passed at all? That’s sort of what happened between today’s guest, Dean Wareham and producer Kramer in the making of Dean’s new album, That’s the Price of Loving Me. You know Dean from his work with Luna and Dean and Britta, his duo with his wife Britta Phillips, but when Kramer and Dean last teamed up, it was for the recording of Dean’s old band Galaxie 500’s final album, 1990’s This Is Our Music. 

Intro-ing his own interview with Dean for Aquarium Drunkard, writer Tyler Wilcox says, “All these decades later, Kramer’s skill for elegant arrangements (not to mention his keyboard skills) bring something special to the proceedings, giving Dean’s musings on politics, friendship, mortality, Gibson guitars and airborne toxic events a sparkling backdrop.”

This week on Transmissions, Dean joins us for a spirited discussion about the new album, movie matinees, guitars, his work with director Noah Baumbach, the influence of Lou Reed—and Dean’s experiences meeting him—and what happens when you, what happens when you embrace the magic of the un-intended. 

You can read a ⁠⁠full transcript⁠⁠ of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. ⁠⁠Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. ⁠⁠ Stream a ⁠⁠playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions⁠⁠, as well as selections from our guests. Transmissions is a part of the ⁠⁠Talkhouse Podcast Network⁠⁠. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts.

This week on the show, the great Yuka Honda. She’s a New York musician. In the 1990s, she emerged from the fertile New York music underground with Cibo Matto alongside groups like the Beastie Boys, Sonic Youth, and Luscious Jackson. She’s collaborated with an extensive roster of musicians, including John Zorn,David Byrne, Yoko Ono, Sean Ono Lennon, and her husband, guitarist Nels Cline. 

Earlier this year, we taped the conversation you’re about to hear. Some of it ran as text in the Across the Horizon zine that was available at Big Ears Music Fest. What is Across the Horizon? Well, it’s a collaborative series from Bob Holmes of Suss and Northern Spy Records gathering together like-minded artists drawn “from the wide landscape of instrumental music” (including Luke Schneider, Marisa Anderson, William Tyler and more) to curate a series of digital releases that will culminate in a double LP compilation of stellar sonic explorations on August 13th. 

Under her Eucademix banner, Yuka has explored experimental electronics via two semi recent Farm Psychedelia EPs and her Across The Horizon contribution “A Long Slow Blink Before The Answer.”  In this conversation, we get into food, art, language, and much more.

You can read a ⁠full transcript⁠ of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. ⁠Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. ⁠ Stream a ⁠playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions⁠, as well as selections from our guests. Transmissions is a part of the ⁠Talkhouse Podcast Network⁠. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts.

This week, a return appearance from William Tyler. As a guitarist and sideman, William has worked with the Silver Jews, Lambchop, and other forward leaning acts, balancing a deep understanding of tradition with experimental energy. His own records have found him drifting from Takoma School style finger picking to a zone that hovers in-between krautrock and country; in recent years, he’s expanded even further, with incredible beat driven collaborations with Four Tet and the fried psychedelia of his full band Secret Stratosphere project. 

His latest work is called Time Indefinite, out this week via Psychic Hotline. It’s a strange and meditative record, and it’s a new high water mark for Tyler. On this episode of the show, we toss out the script in favor of following Tyler’s thoughts; like the indefinite time his new album references, linearity isn’t always the focus in this talk. And while we touch on more than a few heavy topics, including addiction, climate change, and the sad state of satirical art, this one is an entry in our "hangout episodes" series, the DAW rolling along just for good measure. 

You can read a full transcript of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. Stream a playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions, as well as selections from our guests.Transmissions is a part of the Talkhouse Podcast Network. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts.

That's right, we've got The Dude hisself: Jeff Bridges. This week on Transmissions, he joins us to discuss his new archival record, Slow Magic, 1977-1978. Listening to the record sounds like eavesdropping on the coolest Hollywood party you’ve never been invited to: Bridges and co. sound like they are blowing off steam more than making a proper record, their wild music sound, as Bridges’ frequent musical collaborator Keefus Ciancia put it, “like The Band playing at CBGB With The Exploding Plastic Inevitable.” There are members of Oingo Boingo on hand, and Burgess Meredith delivering some bewildering and beautiful spoken word. Sourced from an old cassette tape, it was released on Record Store Day by our friends at Light in the Attic, featuring a great set of liner notes by the fantastic writer Sam Sweet, and it’s a blast. 

Film, music, art, Buddhism—in this conversation, we cover it all and get into some fascinating countercultural tangents, touching on Buckminster Fuller, John Lilly, Ram Dass, Captain Beefheart, and more. It’s a fascinating talk and Slow Magic is a tremendous listen, so press play and abide.

You can read a full transcript of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. Stream a playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions, as well as selections from our guests.Transmissions is a part of the Talkhouse Podcast Network. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts.

This week on Transmissions, a return guest, the great comedian, writer, actor, and podcaster Joe Pera. Joe first appeared here on Transmissions in 2020 alongside his friend and collaborator James Wallace aka Skyway Man, and we've wanted to have him back ever since. This talk is a blast, covering everything from the beauty of Phoenix’s Sky Harbor airport to representations of Catholicism in science fiction to Joe’s experience seeing the late Mitch Hedberg live.

Pera’s TV show, Joe Pera Talks With You, ran for three seasons on Adult Swim between 2018-2021. Quiet and restrained but deeply funny, the show’s gentle slice of life stories and meditative pace made it an utterly unique project. Joe’s latest work includes the 2023 stand up special Slow and Steady and Drifting Off With Joe Pera, a podcast designed specifically to help lull listeners to sleep. In addition to standard episodes covering topics like pre-bedtime drinks, wind, New York City ghosts, and soup, there are extended 8-hour versions of episodes as well, allowing for maximum slumbertime engagement. Close your eyes and settle in: here’s an episode of Transmissions you might be able to doze off to. 

You can read a full transcript of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. Stream a playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions, as well as selections from our guests.Transmissions is a part of the Talkhouse Podcast Network. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts.

Welcome back to Transmissions and we’re going to start this week’s show with a reading from Jennifer Kelly’s review of the new Mekons album, Horror. 

“Things are very bad, but then again, they always have been. That’s Horror’s argument in a nutshell, the 26th album from the legendary Mekons, a Leeds-born gaggle of instigators of punk rock anarchists that has been doing business for half a century now. It’s a bracing thesis, enough to make you pull the covers off your head and stop moaning for a minute, because however insane and stupid and evil life becomes, it’s oddly comforting to think that it’s been this way for centuries...Though exacting and sometimes specific, [Horror] runs absolutely free of footnotes. Instead, its tales of ambition, colonialism, murder and pillage come wrapped in a bumptious swagger of rock ‘n roll noise—dipping into dub, country, punk, new wave and desolate torch singing to make its point."

This week on the show, Jon Langford and Sally Timms of Mekons. They join us for one of the most directly political talks we’ve taped here for this show, as well as how current events shaped Horror, the gee-whiz space race imagination of America in the mid century, Judge Dredd, and much more.

You can read a full transcript of this conversation at Aquarium Drunkard, where you’ll find 20 years worth of playlists, recommendations, reviews, interviews, podcasts, essays, and more. With your support, here’s to another decade. Subscribe at Aquarium Drunkard. Stream a playlist of bumper music featured on Transmissions, as well as selections from our guests. Transmissions is a part of the Talkhouse Podcast Network. Visit the Talkhouse for more interviews, fascinating reads, and podcasts. 

Call it “brain fog,” call it “attention economy burnout,” call it the dregs of late capitalism: however you label it, Tamara Lindeman has been feeling it. With “Neon Signs,” our favorite song from her 2025 album as The Weather Station, Humanhood—out now on Fat Possum Records—she gives names and shapes to the sense of dread so many of us feel permeating our daily existence. 

“I’ve gotten used to feeling like I’m crazy—or just lazy,” she sings in her signature flinty voice at the start of the song, articulating the ennui of being stuck in a cosmic rut. Unending conflict, climate anxiety, and the always-on buzz of the internet—all of it has rendered so many of us inert. But the pulsing piano, swirling flutes and strings, and insistent beat do powerful work here, adding forward motion to Lindeman’s existential angst.

A protest song of a stripe, “Neon Signs” feels like a spiritual update of The Who’s “We Don’t Get Fooled Again”—a cautionary tale wrapped up in defiance. Untangling the politics of want and need, of trust and fear, of lust and genuine connection, Lindeman wanders a glittering landscape in which every flashing light demands notice and every notification could single doom. Is cutting through all that noise possible? “Neon Signs” doesn’t make it clear, but Lindeman tips her hand in favor of the possibility of human flourishing in spite of it all—if only we can get honest with ourselves: “I swear to god I saw real love once/But nothing needs you so badly as a lie, so lonely, drifting, unmoored from real life/if nobody believes it all it can do is die.”

This week on Transmissions, she joins host Jason Woodbury to discuss Humanhood—the album, sure, but also the concept of what makes us human. We're so pleased to share this talk with you.