Transmissions

Greg Saunier, the drummer and songwriter of Deerhoof, dives into the band's latest album inspired by Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. He explores the unique collaborative spirit of Deerhoof that thrives on spontaneity and experimentation. The conversation also gallivants through current political themes, the power of art in society, and colorful anecdotes from their move to Tucson. Additionally, the discussion lightens up with playful reflections on Star Trek, addressing its portrayal of utopia and conflict, and the show's influence on personal perspectives.

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.

Welcome back to Transmissions, your weekly conversational series from Aquarium Drunkard in partnership with the Talkhouse Podcast Network. This week on the show, a long awaited return visit from Lonnie Holley. The Atlanta artist joins us alongside his manager, Matt Arnett, son of William Arnett, the Southern art curator and collector who brought Holley to the attention of the art world in the 1980s. In those days, Holley often worked directly with trash—taking discarded materials to forge his sculptures. Philip K. Dick has said “the symbols of the divine show up in our world initially at the trash stratum,” and in Lonnie’s case, that truth is made evident. His art draws from what’s thrown out—a theme he returns to often—but also from personal tragedy: first artistic project was carving headstones for his sister's two children, who died in a house fire in Alabama in 1979. Since then, his found-object assemblages, paintings, and collages have endeared him to the fine art world—they have even been displayed in the Smithsonian and the White House—in part due to the patronage and care of Arnett’s father. But the younger Arnett helped Holley get on the path he walks know, as an oracular sculpture of sound. Lonnie and Matt join us ahead of the March 21st release of Holley’s new album, Tonky. Crafted with Irish producer Jacknife Lee (R.E.M., U2, The Killers) and featuring guests like Isaac Brock of Modest Mouse, harpist Mary Lattimore, rappers Billy Woods and Open Mike Eagle, spoken word from Saul Williams, and others, Tonky rattles with blues-punk-industrial art folk anthems. We discussed the new album, Holley’s poetic metaphysics, and his work with kindred spirit Richard Swift.  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, we welcome the phenomenal writer Lucy Sante to the show to discuss her latest book, I Heard Her Call My Name: A Memoir of Transition. Poetic, slyly funny, and exceptionally moving, the book joins her other classics, Low Life: Lures and Snares of Old New York and Maybe the People Would Be the Times, as a piece of art that straddles the line between memoir, arts criticism, and music writing. We discuss those works, as well as Sante's recently published Six Sermons for Bob Dylan, which collects sermons the non-religious Sante crafted for a Dylan project that found Michael Shannon taking her words to the pulpit. Plus, we check in on her thoughts about transition, Dylan, fashion, the early days of music journalism, The Velvet Underground, A Complete Unknown, New York, and much more. And we've got a bonus component too: Scott Bunn of Recliner Notes stops by to discuss Sante's work and a recent look at the "guitar sculptures" of Yo La Tengo.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.