On this episode of Discologist, we’re celebrating 25 years of Pink Floyd’s swan song, The Division Bell. No matter what side of the Gilmour/Waters divide you find yourself on, The Division Bell’s return to form for the band has…ahem…divided fans of the band for decades. So we’re here to set the record straight on why this album stands alongside some of the bands’ best work, no matter who was at the helm.
The vulgarity of the year 2017, sweetened by ballet.
Why You Should Care:
Amanda Palmer began her career as an eclectic street artist, going from living statue to a punk pianist in the Dresden Dolls, to best-selling author. She is a vocal proponent of crowdfunding and other communal approaches to art, and never shy of controversy. With this video adaptation of a Pink Floyd classic, she outdoes herself (and unhinges our jaws) once again. “Mother” is not necessarily Palmer’s most shocking creation. She has a history of exploring darker themes (drugs, depression, death) with her share of blood, nudity, and profanity. But with “Mother” she reaches a new height of authenticity, merging her experience of motherhood (she and author Neil Gaiman had their first child in 2015) with the current American political and sociological climate.
Palmer has recast Roger Waters’ 38-year-old lyrics to address the literal and figurative “walls” of today and celebrate the role of motherhood in tearing them down. In hushed, motherly tones, backed by Jherek Bischoff’s fervid string arrangements, she frames the lyrics as a conversation between the President and his own deceased mother. Palmer and Bischoff are joined by dancers and instrumentalists, both adult and children, who seem to intentionally share a common life-giving, nurturing spirit.
The video and ballet end with Palmer breastfeeding a Trump-like character…you might just have to watch it to understand. Palmer dedicated this composition to the current administration, saying, “You will not build walls in our children’s hearts.” “Mother” holds its own as a protest song, but as a visual masterpiece, it may be Palmer’s most important work thus far, from one of the 21st century’s premier artist-activists.
Roger Waters, one of the founders of the legendary Pink Floyd, has always had a keen eye for isolation, oppression, and political justness. On his fifth solo LP, Is The The Life We Really Want?, he's turning that gaze on the United States and recruited a group of powerful "newcomers" (Johnathan Wilson, Jessica Wolfe and Holly Laessig of Lucius) to bring his stark vision of our present and future to life.
Join Kevin, Michael Kentoff (The Caribbean) and Casey Rae (The Priest They Called Him: William S. Burroughs & The Cult of Rock 'n' Roll) as they dive deep into this savage political statement, Waters career, and much much more.
Happy Birthday America.
It’s been 20 years since we’ve heard from Pink Floyd, but now they’re back to bid one final goodbye and journey on down The Endless River. How does this this mostly instrumental album comprised of Division Bell “outtakes”, and musical vignettes stack up? Journey down the Floyd-hole with Kevin, Paul and Adam as they review the new album and revisit the long-history one of their all-time favorite bands on the podcast they were BORN TO DO - Episode 91 of ChunkyGlasses: The Podcast!
Many moons have passed since we first hit the airways, but now we find ourselves at our FIFTIETH FREAKING EPISODE? What's in store? Did we have an epic guest? Did we break bad like the most EPIC episode of Behind The Music? DID BOSTON ACTUALLY PLAY THE RAWK BASEMENT??!!!
In this week’s episode Kevin, Paul and Andre find themselves without any new albums to talk about and decide to dive into the weird, wonderful, van-tastic world of SPACE RAWK. Listen in as they journey through time, space and a whole lot of beer in a quest to get to the bottom of a genre that is one of the pillars of Rock N Roll as we know it.
EPISODE 34: The Final Frontier
ChunkyGlasses Essential Guide To SPACE RAWK
With 1979 we saw the end of an era. Foreshadowing electronica and more arena rock, the 1970s also showed us how to do the hustle and spit on our fans. We smashed guitars with Townshend and (years later) became immortalized by Billy Corgan in Smashing Pumpkins' hit "1979," and we saw a lot of new music and new faces with punk rock, disco, and everything in between. We lost Sid Vicious and Charles Mingus but saw the birth of Derek Trucks, Pete Wentz, Kris Kross, Macy Gray, Chris Daughtry and Bob Bryar of My Chemical Romance. It was a big year for music, rounding out the last decade of ROCK AND ROLL before it went down the path of becoming alternative, independent, underground, massively mainstream, English, and sad.
1979 gave us new bands from everyone between Bananarama and Modern English. Leaders of the Do-It-Yourself movement, Mission of Burma and Husker Du, got together; we saw the first EP from Def Leppard and Led Zeppelin’s In Through The Out Door, their final record of entirely new material released just before the too-soon death of legendary drummer John Bonham. And if you weren't rocking out to Cheap Trick's infamous At Budokan, you were learning how to skank with The Specials, the first of many British ska revival bands.
One of the greatest bands ever released Highway To Hell, the last AC/DC record to feature Bon Scott before he too, faded into the black. Hell is FULL of ROCK including the title track - which you might also know from any commercial outlet ever including baseball games, TV commercials, movies and mixtapes – and the timeless “If You Want Blood (You Got It)”.
Welcome to Rocktober, kids! This year we here at Chunky Glasses are gonna strap the site to a chair and force feed it some history for a whole month. Like any surly teenager, it claims to hate history, but we know it secretly loves it because there’s NO WAY IN HELL to hate the knowledge we’re going to drop for the next 31 days. Join us now as we start in 1969, when Led Zepplin released their first album AND their second album, The Who released a rock opera about pinball, seat belts were optional, and a man walked on the Moon...if you believe that sort of thing. Seriously, good times never seemed so good.
If you don’t already know that 1969 was quite possibly the greatest year ever in music history, and one of the most influential - there was this thing called “Woodstock” that you may have heard of. The concept of the super group kicked into overdrive with Led Zepplin and Blind Faith, Sly & the Family Stone and Crosby, Stills & Nash put out brilliant first albums, and we were introduced to Bob Marley, Santana, the Jackson 5, and Genesis (remember back when Genesis had their original lead singer, and did not suck?). Chicago also put out its first album (See parenthetical for Genesis). Debut albums by the Stooges and MC5 kicked rock and roll in the ass, shit got weird with King Crimson, and the Beatles had one or two things to contribute on their way out the door. Also, the Hells Angels drank $500 worth of beer at a Rolling Stones concert at Altamont, and it all ended very, very badly, so maybe you’d better grab that seat belt after all.
Led Zepplin performing in 1969 for about 100,000 people less than they would in a few years
While stuff now seems to move at warp speed, we have to wait and wait and wait for new material from groups we love - it may be two or three years in between releases of new material, even though technology has advanced to a degree undreamt of in 1969. However, in the late 60’s and early 70’s most groups put out at least an album a year, and a lot of them put out two. Credence Clearwater Revival managed to release three albums in 1969, one of which included a little song called “Proud Mary.” Think Ike and/or Tina Turner wrote it? Think again. Whether you’re a CCR fan or not, releasing three albums in ten-month span, all of which hit the annual Top 10, is simply an incredible work ethic. Which means that James Brown was known as the hardest working man in show business when that actually meant something - and the title track of 1969’s Say It Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud had already been released both as a mega single and as a track on Brown’s Christmas album, making it the hardest working track in show business at the time. Unless you count “Proud Mary.” Or “Sweet Caroline,” which by the way, was released in, um, 1969. And also “My Way.” Shit, we’d better keep moving or we’ll be here all day.