What do you get when you smash Richard Butler’s croon into a blender with Ziggy Stardust, add a pinch of bratty Britpop, and serve it in a basement bar somewhere in Chicago(or maybe Texas)? You get Blastronaut — the 1996 album from a band with a name provocative enough to repel attention and a sound compelling enough to demand rediscovery.
You haven’t heard Blastronaut, but you should have.
The Lee Harvey Oswald Band’s second and final full-length, this rocket-fueled glam-punk odyssey was released by the usually noise-rock-leaning Touch and Go Records. But don’t let the label (or the misleading genre tag) fool you. This isn’t an ear-scraping Jesus Lizard session. It’s a hook-laden, glam-drenched, alt-rock hybrid. Think Urge Overkill if they got lost in Marc Bolan’s closet.
Two Voices, One Mission
One voice slinks and sneers like a Bowie disciple; the other belts with a rawness bordering on early Ozzy. This dual-vocal approach isn’t just variety for variety’s sake—it’s the band’s superpower. The tension between their tones creates a sense of unpredictability, like you're switching between two pirate radio stations playing glam and garage at the same time.
And then there's the bass. Thick, driving, essential. Holding it all together as the guitars oscillate between power chords and wiry leads, like Ronson riffing through a fuzz pedal in a Texas dive bar.
The Spirit of ‘96
Dropping in the middle of alt-rock’s weirdest and most wonderful year, Blastronaut feels like the cousin of albums like Saturation by Urge Overkill or Rotting Piñata by Sponge—too offbeat for radio, but tailor-made for cult love. No polished single here screams “hit,” but that’s its charm. This record wasn’t built for charts. It was built to blow your speakers.
It’s tight (36 minutes), punchy, and a joyride from start to finish—if you overlook a couple of detours. The second half dips a bit, with covers like “Brontosaurus” offering little beyond novelty. But even then, it’s a fun ride, like flipping the record over to find a surprise B-movie playing in your ears.
From Touch and Go to Forgotten Glow
Despite being on a label with legit indie clout and having Rick Sims of the Digits at the helm, the Lee Harvey Oswald Band never broke through. Maybe it was the name. Maybe it was the refusal to stick to one thing. Maybe it was bad luck. But here's the silver lining: Blastronaut is waiting to be discovered by people like you—listeners tired of algorithm-fed sameness, hungry for gems hiding in plain sight.
If you ever wished Sister Havana had a weirder brother or wondered what Bowie would’ve sounded like fronting a 90s garage band, do yourself a favor—put this album on. Let it rip. Let it weird you out. Let it remind you how fun rock music can be when it doesn't give a damn what it's supposed to be.
Songs in this episode
Intro - Rocket 69
12:27 -The Greatest Man Who Ever Walked the Face of the Earth
16:50 -Green Like the Color of Blood
18:59 - Panic in Hanoi
32:37 - Brontosaurus
35:14 - The Scorpio Letter
Outro - Morphodite
#261: Black Tie White Noise by David Bowie
It’s with heavy hearts we share with your are latest episode, recorded four days prior to the passing of David Bowie.
Supergrass - In it for the Money | 90s Rock Album Revisited
In the 90s, Britpop was dominated by Oasis, Blur, Pulp, and Suede, but other deserving talents thrived just outside the limelight. Supergrass was one such band, and their sophomore album, "In It for the Money," solidified their position in the Britpop scene, showcasing a depth and versatility that arguably surpassed many of their contemporaries.
#021 - The Supersonic Storybook by Urge Overkill
In the twenty-first episode of the Dig Me Out Podcast, Tim and Jason review the 1991 album The Supersonic Storybook by Urge Overkill If you want to suggest a forgotten 90s album for us to review, or just want to say hello, visit us at: http://www.digmeoutpodcast.com/ Follow us on Twitter @digmeoutpodcast And visit our Facebook page at https://www.facebo…
Share this post