We’re going off the rails this episode, as Arianne tees up Blizzard of Ozz as our topical somethingburger. We look at Ozzy’s solo debut from almost every conceivable angle, from the wizardry of guitar virtuoso Randy Rhoads to Sharon Osbourne's Mandela Effect-like reminiscences of the album's recording to the controversial 2002 re-release of Blizzard featuring stand-ins by Robert Trujillo and Mike Bordin. Side quests on this Crazy Train include Mike’s remarks about Flann O’Brien’s novel The Third Policeman, Kevin’s Gretsch, and everyone's favorite warlock, Aleister Crowley.The Replacements: Let It Be
...AND WE'RE BACK! Just in time, too, as the podcast world has likely been on the edge of its collective seat wondering just what exactly our tremendous trio thinks of The Replacements for, lo, the past 16 months, give or take. Here's your no-spoils spoiler alert: Mike is thoroughly confused, Kevin is patiently informative, and Arianne is kindly and good-natured about the whole thing.
Before we get right down to a discussion about The Replacements' 1984 album Let It Be, we recount the peaks and valleys we've experienced during the course of our extended hiatus and talk about our current curiosities and resentments. Cue this episode up for the long drive to your least favorite relative's house or listen to it while you're stuck in the drive-thru line at Taco John's.
For many centuries, the best examples of “gothic rock” were the thousands upon thousands of bricks that filled out the medieval castles and cathedrals of Europe. Then in 1980, the English band Bauhaus released their first album, In the Flat Field, effectively laying a cornerstone of a new movement in music and art. In this episode of the Rush Strutter Zep Magik podcast, we peer through this dark prism of post-punk pomp, discussing the influences that gave rise to Bauhaus and intricacies of their efforts on this particular work. Arianne shares memories of life as a grade-school goth kid, Kevin offers tips on the art of building a proper Spotify station, and Mike melts down yet again while discussing cable news and the decline of meaningful discussion.
From the Crimean War to the Prehistoric era and across the universe to the planet of Dune, we plunge our needles into each and every groove of Iron Maiden’s 1983 metal manifesto, Piece of Mind. Side quests in this congenial confab include tangents and musings about X-Ray Spex, Dag Nasty, The Getup Kids, Warren Zevon, and The Who (not to be confused with Mongolian metal band The Hu). It’s a landmark episode for Arianne, who marks a year since their first appearance on the show and subsequently invokes the State Comptroller Atkins rule for a crucial cut from Piece of Mind. 
How many sparks does it take to ignite a prairie fire? We don’t answer that particular question this episode, but we do immerse ourselves in the sonic ocean of Angst In My Pants, the 1982 offering by the influential synth-pop band, Sparks. In our discussion, we look at the history of the Mael brothers and the broad appeal of their music to big-name acts including glam gods The Darkness. Arianne also provides a tutorial on the phenomenon of vocaloids, and we collectively bemoan the various and sundry drawbacks of circus peanuts.
It’s Arianne’s first show as a bona fide co-host and in this episode, we’re serving up two platters piled high with tangible vandalism! In our first official episode as a trio, we tackle Led Zeppelin’s storied double album Physical Graffiti, sifting through its uncanny collection of uncredited cover tunes, outtakes, calypso music, and high school breakup fare. In the midst of the alarums and excursions, we also bump and grind against a host of ancillary topics including automobile-themed double entendre, Colorado weather, Municipal Waste, Green Day, The Alan Parsons Project, and Rax Roast Beef.
It’s a podcast of extraordinary magnitude as Arianne joins Kevin and Mike for a meticulous dissection of the 2011 album Lulu. This controversial collab between Lou Reed and Metallica has garnered voluminous quantities of scorn and derision in the decade since its release, but our troika revisits the work from our own unique perspectives, sharing our respective interpretations of every facet of this avant-garde objet d'art. From Frank Wedekind to Kazimir Malevich and from crust punk to Jonathan Coulton, this episode pulls together the spheres of history, literature, and music to determine whether Lulu is a sporting case of jinkies and zoinks, or a caustic concoction of milk and Red Bull.
If you’ve ever found yourself wondering how in the world the 2011 Lou Reed/Metallica album Lulu came into existence, here’s your answer, fish-bulb! This isn’t quite a full episode, so we’ll call it a mini-sode and it’s all about the roots of the aforementioned collaborative endeavor. Included in this discussion (or maybe it’s more along the lines of a monologue) is information about the original author of the Lulu plays, Frank Wedekind, as well as Alban Berg, the composer of the operatic adaptation of the Lulu stories. Interspersed within the narrative are excerpts of ensemble readings from Wedekind’s “Earth Spirit” and a sample of Berg’s Lulu opera, featuring Evelyn Berg. For those who stick it through to the end of the episode, there’s a special, once-in-a-lifetime contest featuring a prize for one lucky listener.
BRAND FREAKIN’ NEW AND NOW ONLINE! Imagine a crisp page of graph paper featuring a perfectly executed, two-circle Venn diagram that depicts the coexistence between euphony and cacophony. Somewhere on the page, we might find a point representing The Shaggs — perhaps mingling in the bulbous hinterland of the extreme left or right of the diagram, or maybe firmly entrenched amongst the meaty layers where the two shapes overlap. In this episode of the Rush Strutter Zep Magik podcast, we take their infamous and/or legendary album “Philosophy of the World” for a spin and, much like the wonky speedometer on an old Looney Tunes cartoon, we find ourselves asking “Is this trip REALLY necessary?” Link. In. Bio.