Advertise on podcast: The Gerard Cosloy Radio Hour (That Feels Like Two Hours)

it’s either a sad commentary on my particular obsessions or how ferociously predictable I am that nearly a half dozen of you took the time to forward Wattie’s recent Instagram cattle call for a new guitarist for The Exploited.  Nearly all of these unsolicited messages included sneering suggestions that I was “the right guy for the job” and yeah, I’ll admit, I do tick off nearly every box (i wasn’t planning on moving back to the UK , but had this opportunity presented itself in the early 2000’s, I probably would not have left). I have a passport.  I’ve experience coming out of my ear holes. No one could be easier to tour with.   No drama here, I’m rom-com, 24/7.     All of that said, what’s up with repertoire?  Am I really supposed to leave my scalding version of “F**k A Mod” on the cutting room floor?  And I can I expect, that when (as opposed to if) I’m offered the gig, The Exploited 2027 will not in fact be f*****g any mods?  SORRY, WATTIE.  After careful consideration, I think BOTH OF US can do better.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for those of you who routinely challenge the status quo (as opposed to challenging The Status Quo, who really deserve to enjoy a quiet retirement).  All of that said, I don't think your efforts always compare favorably to Mark Henry's one-man attempt to stop the US Military Industrial Complex.  This might sound like an unfair expectation (and it really is), but I'm pretty keen to give us something to aspire to.

I'm presuming you've all seen the recent Fox News testimony of the young chap whom during an 18 day coma, claims he saw Jesus Christ.  While most historians agree that Christ closely resembled Kenny Loggins or Jared Leto, Gabe Poirot instead insists that J.C. took on a far more ripped visage (say, Roman Reigns).  Poirot is being widely mocked for sharing these thoughts and I am not without sympathy.  I recently had a beyond-and-back experience of my own in which i envisioned an SNL musical performance, not by the universally lauded Turnstile, but instead the 1-800-Kars-4-Kids Band.  I don't really have an ending to this story except to say perhaps it was a bad idea to mount a television set above my bathtub with velcro-hangers purchased at Hobby Lobby.  We're supposed to be boycotting that place anyway, right.

The unfortunate, inexcusable events just a stone's throw from the EVR studios --- in which a longtime proprietor of a cookbook store was arrested after tangling with the security team supervising the endless queue for the Amex Harry Styles pop-up --- have completely overshadowed a recent harrowing experience of my own.  There's been no media coverage to date of my being physically ejected from a Godsmack show for making fun of the band's merch table.  I understand why the other story is considered newsworthy (and an egregious assault on a community pillar), but let me remind you all that Providence's Amica Mutual Arena (fka The Dunkin' Donuts Center, or if you prefer, "The Dunk") is a public space built with taxpayer money.  True, I've never paid taxes in Rhode Island, but I do own many Lightning Bolt records and that should count for something.

spoiler alert or preemptive strike?  Take your pick but I have it very good authority from my sources at The Paper of Record that the NY Times’ ongoing “The 100 Best TV Shows of The 21st Century” will not include “Shasta McNasty”.  It seems the Times has chosen to snub this beloved comedy because it premiered in August of 1999, however, as any MCNASTY enthusiast already knows, the program ran until the spring of 2000, thus making making these claims of ineligibility specious at best.  And you have no f*****g idea just how long I’ve been waiting to type “specious at best” when promoting this radio show. The topic will be discussed and carefully analyzed this week.  If not to death, then perilously close.

this week’s program was originally meant to be a two-hour analysis of the 2019 motion picture “Yesterday” in which a young musician is hit by a bus and awakes in an alternate reality where Anal C**t never existed. It’s a pretty sappy affair with an all-too-obvious idea and as you’ve already guessed, our protagonist achieves vast fame performing Seth Putnam’s compositions as if they were his own. Said film also features singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran playing himself (very brave stretch) and it seems for that reason station management has forced me to re-record the entire episode.  I don’t really keep up with social media but I’ve been told Sheeran is embroiled in a controversy of some sort at the moment which is a shame. He always struck me as the type who’d find a roundabout way of honoring Anal C**t but it has also been explained (carefully) to me this movie is not a documentary.  I mean, f**k.

we’re on the precipice of marking the 25th anniversary of a horrible event that would usher in an unprecedented nũ-normal era of authoritarianism and mass surveillance.  EVR management would have you believe the webcam to the station’s on-air booth is currently off-line due to “technical issues” but could the reason really be they’re afraid of the truth coming out  : that when the camera is turned to first avenue, passers-by have their likenesses captured and sent directly to Planatir, Leidos,James Dolan and somewhat inexplicably, guitarist Warren Haynes.  Perhaps so he and Dolan can have something else in common to talk about, I really don’t know. Anyhow, I’m happy to continue this technical snafu ruse for as long as it takes (or one more week, which ever ends first)

there’s a gushy piece in today’s Guardian about a teenager who took to IG to document his attempts to listen to one Merzbow album each day. It’s a fun article and the fella in question seems nice and inquisitive enough, except WHAT THE F**K, this twerp STOLE MY IDEA.    Long before some of you little s***s were even conceived, i took to rec.music.moebandy to chronicle my efforts to listen to and rank the entire Moe Bandy discography. Where was my goddamn parade?   Some kid made it all the way thru ‘Akasha Gulva’?  Big whoop, where were you when i was struggling to make it till the end of ‘It Was Always.So Easy (To Find An Unhappy Woman)’ ?  I’ll see your ‘Noisembryo’ and raise you “I Cheated Me Right Out Of You’.   ON TODAY’S SHOW : YET ANOTHER WAY YOU’VE ALL CONSPIRED TO F**K ME OVER.

I usually try to stay away from promotional gimmickry on the program — I  am sure you’ll agree between the musical selections and my effervescent commentary, no such pandering is required to maintain a vast audience. However, under considerable pressure from EVR management, this week I have been tasked with giving away 2 tickets to the American Film Institute’s Lifetime Achievement Award ceremonies honoring Breckin Meyer.  Yeah, I know, “second prize is four tickets”,  I use that line every Levitation Festival.  But really, in this instance, second prize really _is_ four tickets.  And third prize is Breckin Meyer (you’ll have to supply your own crate and/or shock collar).  All details will be explained in the chat but please keep in mind, if you’ve won Breckin Meyer during an EVR show over the last six months, you’re not eligible.  Give someone else a chance!

I know what you're saying, "that is one ugly ass Furby". In fact, it's a FUGGLER, and I know this because I tried to attend this weekend's Sound & Furby Festival and was asked to leave because they found the FUGGLER in my backpack. It's a Furby-only festival and apparently there are very strict rules about allowing Fugglers on to the festival grounds.  Clearly, the event promoters are just another case of people who pay lip service to things like inclusion but when push comes to shove, protecting the Furby IP takes precedence. I'll use this disrespect to fuel this week's program and shall remain hopeful that at some moment in the future, the Fugglers will have their day in the sun.

earlier this week I was looking up an old Popular Mechanics story about a global oxide shortage (hoping for some insights as to why Cassette Store Day is no longer a thing — I mean, there could be no other reason, right) and instead saw a report that despite a US ban on biological weapons, the CIA developed a HEART ATTACK GUN made from shellfish toxin.     I’m no expert on this stuff, but it seems it would have more sense for the CIA to simply take American’s enemies to dinner at Red Lobster and let nature do its thing.  Or failing that, train aspiring Jason Bourne2Losers in the art of Ox Baker’s HEART PUNCH.    If you’re thinking this was all a huge pretext just to use a photo of Ox Baker, you’re smart enough to run the CIA.

there’s so many things I deeply appreciate about Blabbermouth.com but there’s no feature on the site nearly as crucial as their devotion to updating us with detailed progress reports such as these.  If Sully from Godsmack’s spoken word album is “70 percent done”, we can wait with bated breath for the news down the line that at some point he’ll be “80 percent done”.  If you’re spending today mourning the end of yet another music news site, ask yourself if they really did enough to keep you informed about how close Michael Schenker is to completing his followup to 2011’s ‘Temple Of Rock’ (surely he’s at 60% by now)

While some of my friends are rightfully taking exception this morning to the announcement of NewsMax and Meta’s “content partnership”, I am very sorry to say I’m instead firmly focused on the misdeeds of the latter concern. To wit, the IG algorithm serving me a relentless, mind-numbing spate of clips from “The Nanny” (CBS, 1993-1999). While my friends are graced with a never-ending array of Sopranos, Breaking Bad and death match wrestling videos, I get nothing but a steady diet of Fran Drescher. I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done about this (at the very least I am entitled to some compensation), but i am prepared to complain about it for at least two hours.  #onlyfrans #outofthefryingpanintothefran

there’s been a succession of counter-cultural figures whose passings have been confirmed over the past week, and as always it is terribly important that you take great pains to publicly express that you never liked their work (anyway), or even better, you were at one time or another, an acolyte, yet thru growth and maturity have since come to understand their work was shit and you presently disavow it. Because we desperately need such affirmations from persons we don’t know, had no relationship(s) to the deceased and all of our lives are richer knowing about the personal journey of random voyeurs and tourists.  But enough about reactions to the death of David Clayton Thomas — the here and now is right on top of us (for the next 120 minutes, anyway)

in honor of today’s crucial England v Argentina tilt, I’d planned on playing The Special Moments’ 2009 opus, ‘Eric : The Falklands Follies’ from start to finish , however at the very last moment the licensing dept. rang and said permission had been denied.  It seems Baz and Reg Lumley are attending the match in Atlanta today and regardless of which side wins, they intend to lead the stadium in a full throated singalong of “They Dropped A Bomb (On Me)” and would prefer not to have this occasion undermined (usurped, most likely) by this program. Which is fair enough, the Lumley’s are having-a-moment right now, as we like to say in the music biz, and I for one would not be surprised to see some stadium-sized reunion shows confirmed on the back of this nostalgia wave.  OK, that’s enough Special Moments spoilers for one morning.