In which Adam and James discuss a particularly terrifying brand of stage fright, examine the fertile intersection of Black Funk and the Rolling Stones in the inspiration/information age, sneak a look at the effect the Crescent City and the Dirty South had on a British Island record, and finally bask in the afterglow of real royalty, remembering the son that set in the North Star state.

Our heroes explore the burden of expectations on art and reflect upon the irresistible oppression of hope on human beings. Eventually, after pondering the crushing weight of possibilities, they get really bummed out. They turn, first to drink and then to god before settling on pizza as the answer to life’s really important questions. They take a short pee break, talk about Paul Simon, and then each paint a masterpiece…but you can’t see that because this isn’t that kind of podcast

(shrug)

Our heroes discuss the upcoming release of James’ new book “Accidentally Like A Martyr: The Tortured Art of Warren Zevon“, talk about the difficult creative act of giving birth to a finished work, and reflect upon the up-and-down life of its complicated subject, the Excitable Boy himself, the troubadour of The Troubadour, the great Werewolf of Los Angeles: Warren William Zevon.

...plus a brief inexplicable attention-deficit-fueled detour into late-70s New York punk.

In which Adam gets all excited about playing Mary Lou Lord and our heroes manage to accidentally find themselves spending an entire podcast talking endlessly about the one subject neither of them knows anything about...

(sigh)

...women.

Finding themselves at a crossroads and facing a cataclysmic crisis of near-galactic proportions, our turgid titans of talk recall the halcyon history of The Outlaw Roadshow and look forward to the future of the Underwater Sunshine Festival without ever mentioning the fact that Adam just really wants to see BLACK PANTHER tonight. Excelsior! (Nuff said)

In which, without the benefit of any good drugs (or a net), our heroes Adam & James trip the psychedelic wonderland oeuvre of the great British troubadour Robyn Hitchcock and reveal the shockingly soft and boyish origins of Underwater Sunshine itself.

Adam & James talk about moving around in their childhoods, think a series of extremely deep and sensitive thoughts, and eventually listen to some freakishly good songs, including a disturbing number of versions of “The Little Drummer Boy”.