Yes, show #23 is here. Fret not, it’ll be dope when you hear The Yolks, Nein Rodere, Tenniscoats, Pastels, Freschard, Neutrals, The Tubs, Ex-Vöid, Bobby Brown, Richard Youngs, Renata Zeiguer, Kids on a Crime Spree, & Broadcast, y’know?

Much rocking and rolling to be done this week. Was done. To be had. Have yourself some rock and roll, pardner:

Apologies to our subscribers who didn’t get this last week. We have appropriately punished our administrators for missing this vital coverage.

Don’t you wish there a station played 80s Scottish indiepop, grindcore, and new music from Liz Harris and Jefre Cantu-Ledesma in the same hour? Well careful what you wish for bub.

Here’s a waterslide that doesn’t have quite enough water so your thighs sort of stick a few places going down, and when you get stopped, you notice the joints of the tube, which makes you realize the green growth on them, which is also where the sharp, scratchy sensations on your thighs are coming from, the lengths of pipe pushed apart by algae and moss growth that is resistant to chlorine.

Portland noise, broken English keyboards, indiepop from Oz. The usual, what you’ve come to expect. I hope. We hope. You hope. Hope is all we can do.

When everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to pay, you start in Detroit and end in New Haven, via Lagos by way of Tokyo.

Wherein we explore how lo fi divas, ethereal 80s goths, and the happiest electronic band of all time intersect with a song on the radio in California’s central valley.

Choking on dust, turning into a monster, playing really long songs that are either about drugs or meditation or occult practices or the inability for a rational person to tell where the world ends and I begin because there’s no such distinction.