The Swell Season, Fig Dish & National Skyline
Catch up on the week in new music and Dig Me Out podcasts
Latest Podcasts
Fig Dish - That’s What Love Songs Often Do | 90s Rock Podcast
It’s 1995, and rock radio is in full identity crisis mode. Kurt Cobain’s ghost still haunts MTV’s 120 Minutes, but the suits are already chasing the next big thing. Green Day and The Offspring have just proven that punk can pay the bills, selling millions with Dookie and Smash. Meanwhile, in Chicago’s smoke-filled clubs, another story is unfolding—one t…
National Skyline - This = Everything | 2000s Album Podcast
Remember when the millennium bug was supposed to crash civilization? While Y2K came and went without apocalypse, something more profound was happening in the cultural underground. In small studios across America, a generation of musicians was discovering that you could build entire worlds with nothing more than a drum machine, a guitar, and ambition. This was the early 2000s—a time when the digital revolution was democratizing music production, when bedroom producers could compete with major labels, and when the most interesting sounds emerged from the spaces between genres.
Coming soon: Captain Beyond by Captain Beyond
Our next 70s Rock episode is set! The results are in, and our community of paid subscribers on Patreon and Substack have spoken:
New Releases
The Swell Season - Forward
Remember falling in love with Once? Course you do. That moment when Glen Hansard’s weathered voice drifted through a Dublin record shop window and suddenly the world made sense again? Well, guess what—he’s back. And he brought Markéta Irglová with him.
The Swell Season’s “Forward” is their first album together in 16 years. These aren’t the same wide-eyed dreamers who made us all believe in love songs again. They’re older now. They’ve lived some life. And that’s exactly what makes this eight-track collection so damn compelling.
The title says it all—they’re looking ahead, not backward. As Irglová puts it, “both of us have grown and changed; we’re in different places and getting to know each other again as the new people we’ve become.” That vulnerability? That honesty about time and change? It’s all over these songs.
What everyone’s saying: Critics are calling this the comeback nobody expected but everyone needed. The consensus is clear—this captures all the heartrending emotion you remember, but with a maturity that feels earned rather than calculated.
Rip Van Winkle - Blasphemy
Who knew a bedtime story character could rock this hard?
Rip Van Winkle is Robert Pollard’s latest creative vessel, and “Blasphemy” sounds like what happens when a fever dream collides head-on with prime-era Guided By Voices. But here’s what makes this different from Pollard’s usual prolific output: it’s not just another side project. This is a full-blown theatrical experience.
Think rock opera meets lo-fi art project. Think scene changes and scratchy energy that’ll transport you straight back to the early ‘90s indie underground. It’s “equal parts rock opera, collage, and lo-fi stage play”—less a collection of songs, more like stumbling into a hazy performance art piece in someone’s basement.
The melodies stick. The riffs land. And most importantly, the weirdness feels intentional rather than tossed-off. If you miss when indie rock could be genuinely strange, this one’s calling your name.
What everyone’s saying: Early reception suggests this hits the mark for both die-hard Pollard devotees and newcomers drawn to its theatrical absurdity. Though fair warning—if recent GBV hasn’t done it for you, this might not be your conversion moment.
Half Japanese - Adventure
Ever meet someone whose enthusiasm is so infectious you can’t help but smile? That’s Jad Fair at 71, still proving that heart trumps technical perfection every single time.
Half Japanese burst onto the art-punk scene with their gleeful amateurism, and “Adventure” finds them surprisingly polished while staying wonderfully off-kilter. Fair’s positive vibes are as infectious as ever, but now he’s backed by musicians who can actually make his sunny melodies shine without losing that essential Half Japanese weirdness.
Recorded in London with producer Jason Willett, this album presents “a more pristine and polished canvas for Jad to expand upon.” The addition of Euan Hinshelwood on saxophone, harmonica, and piano creates what one critic called “a smoother backdrop for the band’s less lubricated sound.”
But here’s what matters: as Fair puts it, “All of our albums are meant to be joyful. I have a good life and I’m thankful for it.” That gratitude? It’s all over these songs.
What everyone’s saying: Critics note that while the band has become more refined, they haven’t lost their essential character. This is polished Half Japanese that still sounds unmistakably like Half Japanese—exactly what longtime fans hoped for.
Chris Stamey - Anything Is Possible
What happens when power-pop meets the Great American Songbook? Magic, apparently.
Chris Stamey bridges two sonic worlds on “Anything Is Possible,” seamlessly blending his dB’s legacy with sophisticated chamber arrangements. It’s a love letter to late-’50s AM radio that somehow feels both nostalgic and completely contemporary.
The album features an impressive roster: The Lemon Twigs, Pat Sansone from Wilco, Probyn Gregory from the Brian Wilson band, and Marshall Crenshaw. But here’s the genius—Stamey doesn’t just balance these approaches, he finds the commonalities between them.
As he explains, this is “a love letter to the kind of harmonically rich yet often lyrically innocent pop music I heard, on the family turntable and especially on AM radio, growing up in the late 50s and mid-60s in the American South.” The result? Songs that prove good songwriting transcends era and style.
What everyone’s saying: Critics are calling this one of his strongest efforts in years. The album is “absolutely seamless,” with “impeccable” production that “puts most contemporary pop songwriters to shame”.
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry - Strange Kind Of Paradise
Some albums arrive like time capsules from alternate timelines. This is one of them.
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry’s “Strange Kind Of Paradise” spent nearly two decades in the vault—recorded during the band’s mid-2000s reunion, then shelved when they dissolved again. Now it emerges as their final chapter, and it sounds as urgent and vital as anything they’ve ever recorded.
These Leeds post-punk legends haven’t lost a step. As guitarist David Wolfenden puts it: “40 years on and the guitars still try to strangle each other, the words still struggle to make sense of chaos and the rhythms drive us to a glorious destination.”
The album thrashes against modern life’s chaos, wrestling with disillusionment, survival, and fleeting transcendence. But here’s the surprise—it reveals unexpected diversity. “As Long as We’re Breathing” shows a softer, mellower side reminiscent of Mark Lanegan, while “Walking on Air” brings glammy swagger played almost in rockabilly style.
What everyone’s saying: Critics are amazed at how contemporary the band still sounds. As one reviewer noted, “the fact that Red Lorry Yellow Lorry still sound essential and contemporary is equally testament to their songwriting and delivery, and the bleak times in which we find ourselves”.
Collective Soul - Give Me A Word: The Collective Soul Story
Sometimes the best rock stories are about brotherhood, persistence, and the simple joy of making music together. This is one of those stories.
Collective Soul opens their vault with “Give Me A Word,” a documentary that reveals the family bonds behind one of the ‘90s most enduring rock bands. Filmed at Elvis Presley’s Palm Springs estate during recording sessions, it captures Ed and Dean Roland’s journey from basement rehearsals to 15 million albums sold and seven #1 hits.
Director Joseph Rubinstein calls it “a rock and roll anomaly—a unique and weird journey that defies all expectations.” But here’s what makes it special: these guys actually like each other. After 30+ years, they’re still brothers first, bandmates second.
The documentary avoids the usual rock doc clichés—no bitter breakups, no drugs-and-excess narratives. Instead, it’s “a soul-baring look at Collective Soul’s legacy, loss, and brotherhood” that focuses on “resilience, creative spirit, and the power of brotherhood.”
What everyone’s saying: Critics are calling it refreshingly honest, noting it presents “a group of guys who get along well, and also seem to be good dudes that we wouldn’t mind getting to know.” It’s the rare rock documentary that feels genuinely uplifting.