Join Mark Lanegan and the Screaming Trees in 1994, run ragged from the road and poor lifestyle choices. That said, we're treated to a solid Lanegan effort from that year (Whiskey From The Holy Ghost), followed by collaborations with Mad Season and Mike Watt, pay tribute to Willie Nelson and Jim Reeves, and embrace the Trees' heroically flawed swan song (Dust).Support the show
Theme Song: Mike Nicolai, “Trying To Get It Right” [Bandcamp]
Welcome to Don't Call It Nothing, the podcast dedicated to the lost history of '90s roots, rap, and rock 'n' roll, and now officially based upon the book of the same name. This is Lance Uehara Davis and we’re in the middle of a Mark Lanegan and Screaming Trees retrospective. I was hoping to get this episode out a couple days ago, so let’s dive on in. When we last left them, the Screaming Trees had just released Sweet Oblivion into the wild and were touring … and touring … and touring. They got stuck opening for Alice In Chains in the last two months of ‘92 and spent the summer of ’93 opening for the Spin Doctors (gross) and Soul Asylum. To be fair, they also headlined a fair number of dates in between those tours and after. The Trees were road warriors, but they were kinda always heading INTO the wind. There was way too much drinking going on in the band. As a recovering alcoholic, I say that without judgment. I get it. Meanwhile, Mark Lanegan was knee-deep in a heroin habit, which really meant that if crack was the only thing available, he was basing the fuck outta some crack. When there was no crawdad, we ate sand.
This was the context for the follow-up to Sweet Oblivion, which was far more theoretical in 1993 than tangible reality. The group made a perfunctory effort at recording with Don Fleming again, but there was no juice. In the book, Everybody Loves Our Town: An Oral History of Grunge, Lanegan told author Mark Yarm,
“Everyone wanted to put out the record to capitalize on Sweet Oblivion. The timing was certainly right, but the music wasn’t, and I just thought, ‘You know what? This is not good.’ And it wasn’t good because of me. I didn’t come to the party. I did not involve myself. I went through the motions, but I didn’t invest any of myself into it. I just didn’t have the strength. After all the touring, and because of some other personal problems, I didn’t have anything to give to it. I was empty. I tried, but the end result was: It sucked.”
—Mark Lanegan to Mark Yarm, Everybody Loves Our Town: An Oral History of Grunge, 2011, p. 521
So, as the band headed into 1994, Lee Conner was writing a ton of songs, but he’d be the first to tell you that most of them weren’t very good. Where the band went into the Sweet Oblivion sessions with momentum and a common vision, the Trees in ’94 were heading in four different directions. That said, they pulled it together enough to produce one, maybe two bona fide jams, but this is my favorite: “Paperback Bible.”
Screaming Trees – “Paperback Bible” (1994 Rough Mix)
That’s the Screaming Trees with “Paperback Bible,” a fun, Aerosmith-type blues jam recorded in 1994. A cleaned up version with new vocals appeared on 2005’s Ocean Of Confusion comp, but I prefer this rough mix with Lanegan’s original vocals. According to Lee, he and Van wrote this in ‘93 after seeing Lanegan roll a joint using a rice paper bible page. Of course that happened. “Watchpocket Blues” is another pretty good outtake from this period and that, too, is on Ocean Of Confusion. On the Screaming Trees Facebook page, Lee Conner recently posted a long-forgotten piano ballad from ’94, but I’m gonna save that for next time.
Instead, let’s talk about Mark Lanegan. In 1994, he released his second solo album, Whiskey For The Holy Ghost, and you’d be forgiven if you thought, “Well, the Trees were flailing, but at least Lanegan got his shit together to put out a record.” Mmmm … not really. In fact, Whiskey was about four years in the making. From the moment he released The Winding Sheet in 1990, Lanegan had been stockpiling songs and recording when he had the chance. Of course, between constant touring and a crippling heroin addiction, it’s kind of a miracle the album sounds as good as it does.
Mark Lanegan – “Borracho”
5th Ave Theater, Seattle
July 28, 1995
Opening for Johnny Cash
The second track on Whiskey For The Holy Ghost, “Borracho” is dystopian chamber folk featuring Dan Peters on drums and Mike Johnson on bass and lead guitar, including a bitchin divebomb solo from 2:36-3:33. In fact, I hear a few different guitars, so I suspect Lanegan is strumming one and Johnson’s playing the others. This actually speaks to the fun fact about Whiskey For The Holy Ghost. And that is, I don’t think it’s a solo record. I think it’s a Mark Lanegan/Mike Johnson duet record and it’s about time we put some respect on Johnson’s name. He produced these sessions, arranged the material, and plays on every song. Not just that, he arranged these songs around four different drummers: Peters, Tad Doyle (Tad), J Mascis, and Mark Pickerel. Lanegan obviously deserves credit for the elite songs and vocals, but Johnson was the glue guy who made the record sound cohesive.
As for Lanegan’s lyrics, how about this powerhouse?
“Here comes the devil prowl around
One whiskey for every ghost
And I'm sorry for what I've done
'Cause it's me who knows what it cost
It breaks and it breeds and it tears you apart
It bites and it bleeds
And this desert turns to ocean over me”
Fuckin Mark Lanegan.
Mark Lanegan – “Judas Touch”
The late, impossibly great Mark Lanegan with “Judas Touch.” Come on, how great is that? You have Johnson fingerpicking acoustic guitar, Tad Doyle brushing a snare, and Lanegan’s voice laying in a bed of judicious reverb. That’s it. In and out in 1:37. Jam fucking econo. And when you hear that arrangement, is it markedly different from what Rick Rubin did with Johnny Cash for American Recordings? That record, by the way, came out only three months after Whiskey and it’s my understanding that Mark sent songs to Cash’s people for possible inclusion, it just didn’t work out. Too bad because the world needed Cash covering Lanegan way more than it needed Cash covering Loudon Wainwright.
For example, I’m gonna play “Pendulum,” probably my favorite song on Whiskey For The Holy Ghost. Just imagine these lyrics being sung by Johnny.
Mark Lanegan – “Pendulum”
That’s Mark Lanegan with “Pendulum,” featuring longtime collaborator Mike Johnson on acoustic and electric guitar, Jack Endino on bass, and former Tree Mark Pickerel on drums. I love that line, “Tears cold dark eyes upon.” That’s how poetry is supposed to work.
On March 13, 1994, Lanegan visited MTV Studios to promote Whiskey and he brought a couple friends to back him up. Mike Johnson is playing (I believe) a sweet Gretsch as J Mascis strums an acoustic.
Mark Lanegan, J Mascis & Mike Johnson – “House A Home”
In reviewing my positioning of Whiskey For The Holy Ghost within the 1994 multiverse, I inadvertently had the album way too low. It’s very good, great in moments, but shy of that next tier. In the next iteration of my book I’ll have it slotted just behind behind Vic Chesnutt's Drunk and just before Beck's Stereopathetic Soulmanure, but in a more global sense, in the neighborhood of Meat Puppets’ Too High To Die and Tom Petty’s Wildflowers. That feels like where Whiskey should live.
So, as we turn the corner into 1995, the Trees weren’t screaming, so much as idling. They recorded a little bit, but let’s focus on a couple different collaborations. Mad Season was a side project of Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, AND Screaming Trees as it featured guitarist Mike McCready, singer Layne Staley, and drummer Barrett Martin. Bassist John Baker Saunders rounded out the quartet. I’ll be honest, the band doesn’t do much for me and that’s accounting for Lanegan’s two guest vocals. I was only gonna mention this album in passing, until I heard the bonus cuts on the 2013 Above reissue.
Amidst the hoopla of a live show and a DVD were three songs featuring Lanegan lead vocals and lyrics: “Locomotive,” “Black Book Of Fear,” and “Slip Away.” I was seriously tempted by “Locomotive” because it’s punishingly psychedelic, Martin providing a deep rolling pocket as McCready goes on a full wah wah bender. However, my choice came down to “Black Book” and “Slip Away,” both power ballads in the “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” family of anthem. I opted for “Black Book,” not because it’s better, but I feel like “Slip Away” is leading up to McCready’s guitar hero extravaganza, whereas “Black Book” is more minimalist and arranged around Mark’s vocal, which is why we’re all here, am I right?
Mad Season – “Black Book Of Fear”
It’s hard to go wrong with any Mark Lanegan song where the Devil makes an appearance. However, this track is here because of:
"This is a room where a crime scene’s staged
The burnt black book of fear tore out a page
This is a house where a crime scene’s staged"
That’s pure Lanegan. And how about some love for Barrett Martin? Dude was the secret weapon of Mad Season, credited with drums, percussion, standup bass, cello, marimba, and vibes. He plays drums and bells on “Black Book,” but I’m pretty sure he’s also the one playing keyboard in that ELP section right before McCready’s guitar solo.
There’s another 1995 collab worth discussing and that’s Mike Watt’s first solo album, Ball-Hog Or Tugboat, which features a rotating cast of indie rock all-stars, including Mark Lanegan and Lee Conner. Let’s start with Lanegan.
Mike Watt – “Max And Wells”
Mark Lanegan on lead vocals, Mike Watt on bass, J Mascis and Todd Rigione from Liquid Jesus on guitar, and Brock Avery from Wayne Kramer’s band on drums. If you’re like me, you’re wondering, “How the hell did the Liquid Jesus guy get this gig?” Haha. Anyway, “Max And Wells” is a deep cut in the Watt catalog. It’s a fIREHOSE song written by Watt, but sung by Ed Crawford, and you originally could only find it on A Matter Of Degrees, a 1991 soundtrack that also includes Uncle Tupelo, Alex Chilton, Grant Hart’s post-Hüskers band, Nova Mob, and eight years before David Fincher used it to close out Fight Club, the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?”
“Max And Wells” is a strange song in that it’s mostly skronky punk rock and the lyrics are spoken as much as sung. That’s kind of a classic Watt thing. But, towards the end of the song, at 2:14, is a beautiful bridge melody when Lanegan sings, “If it's a kite kit that you wanna fly/Then it'll be a kite that I'll fly.” The interesting part is that the original recording doesn’t really sound like that. Check this out.
fIREHOSE – “Max And Wells”
I’m curious if Lanegan heard the melody and brought it out OR Watt had misgivings about the recording and used Lanegan’s voice to correct the arrangement. Because the Lanegan version is substantially better than the fIREHOSE version and I like the fIREHOSE version.
The other Tree-related track on Ball-Hog is when Watt uses Eddie Vedder to remind us that the 1970s actually sucked, so maybe us Gen Xers shouldn’t spend so much time cupping saggy, old boomer balls.
Mike Watt – “Against The ‘70s”
Ed Ved - lead vocals, rhythm guitar
Lee Conner - supernova lead guitar
Watt - bass, vocals
Dave Grohl - drums
Krist Novoselic - farfisa
Carla Bozulich - backing vocals
That’s Mike Watt doing the “Helter Skelter” false fade with “Against The ‘70s” and check out this band. Eddie Vedder sings lead and I’ll get to that in a bit. That supernova lead guitar? Oh, just Lee Conner. Watt’s obviously on bass and his partner in the pocket is Dave Grohl, at a point when the Foo Fighters were barely a thing. Add his former bandmate, Krist Novoselic, on farfisa and the great Carla Bozulich of Geraldine Fibbers on backing vocals. That’s a gotdang powerhouse lineup and the only thing that would’ve made it better is if Vedder was replaced by Lanegan. In fact, in the multiverse in which I produce Ball-Hog, I’m assigning Vedder to “Max” explicitly so Lanegan can sing “Against The ‘70s.” Good Lord, that might've been the best song of the '90s. Two Trees, two Nirvanas, a Geraldine Fibber AND Watt??? Singing that shit? Mmmm.
So, while I'm not crazy about Vedder up front, if he has to be the delivery system for these brilliantly scathing lyrics, so be it.
"The kids of today should defend themselves against the 70's
It's not reality
Just someone else’s sentimentality
I wanna deep dive on one line in the song because it’s not necessarily obvious. When Vedder sings, “Stadium minds with stadium lies gotta make you laugh,” that’s a reference to the massive stadium rock shows of the 1970s. Watt has often referred to these shows as being like Nuremberg rallies, itself a reference to how the Nazis used rallies to maintain conformity and allegiance. In a 2014 interview with the blog, Steel For Brains, Watt explains that first-wave punk was as much social protest, as it was musical.
“I found out so much from these people in the scene because they were actually deeply committed to music and literature and movies. The problem was socially, they didn’t fit in so well, and especially that arena rock dynamic, where you’re just a little speck in a big sports arena. It’s kind of like a Nuremberg rally, whereas in a club you’re getting down to more individuals.”
—Mike Watt to Steel for Brains, Drove Up From Pedro: A Conversation With Mike Watt, August 13, 2014
That completely matches my reality. I’ll never forget seeing the Stones on the Steel Wheels tour in 1989. They were so far away, it may as well have been the cast of Night Court. It sucked. I felt then (and now) that people weren’t engaging with the music, so much as basking in the glow of celebrity. “THAT’S MICK JAGGER. HE’S FAMOUS.” I’d seen Mudhoney and the Flaming Lips at the Burro Room earlier in ’89 and even though I had no idea what I was seeing because I was such a newbie to punk and punk shows, I instinctively knew that my presence there mattered. My presence at the Stones was immaterial. The Stones were (and are) a corporate concern. They need attendance in the aggregate. The individual doesn’t matter. This is the secret lie of pop music, of mainstream music. It doesn’t take any effort. You’re rewarded simply for showing up.
Mudhoney and the Lips were playing the Burro Room for a reason. These were bands who needed money to gas up the van and floors to crash on. They needed you to attend their shows and if you wanted to actually speak to Mark Arm or Wayne Coyne or Dan Peters, you could do this crazy thing called walk up to them and talk to them. You ain’t fucking talking to Mick and Keef. You’re talking to their handlers’ handler. So, why is the Nuremberg rally compelling and, as Watt put it, “getting down to more individuals” is outlier behavior?
So many of my Gen X peers have turned into echo boomers, constantly in that ‘50s/‘60s/’70s headspace, prioritizing that culture, obsessing over its meaningless particulars, and I know because I was one of them! Nostalgia for someone else’s nostalgia is an act of self-negation. It’s you gaslighting yourself. And you’re doing it because Gen Xers have been gaslit, from day one, to deny the value of their own experiences. Or, the corollary to that, they’ve been devalued by gatekeeping garbage vendors.
For example, when Black Flag, Minutemen, Minor Threat, Meat Puppets, X, all these bands, hit the road in the early ‘80s, playing all-ages shows at YMCAs, VFWs, the Oddfellows Hall, and various backyards, who do you think dominated the audience? Who do think was the fuel for those bands? The boomers nodding their heads in the back? Fuck no. It was the Gen X teenagers at the front of the fucking stage. And yet, when boomers tell the story of punk, those Gen X teenagers are either violent hooligans OR written out of the story altogether.
Carla Bozulich, the badass singing backup to Vedder on “Against The ‘70s,” has a great quote that I put in the book. She said:
“Punk rock never caught on because radio couldn’t deal with the anti-establishment part. They took it personally and never gave punk any airplay. And now, basically, it has turned into generation after generation ignoring the underground.”
—Carla Bozulich to Arts Weekly, July 30, 1997
And who the fuck do you think was running radio and MTV in the 1990s, the establishment? A bunch of boomer dirtbags who stood to make millions by saturating the market with ‘60s/’70s legacy acts. They had no incentive to nurture the best bands of the decade – all of the bands I talk about here on Don’t Call It Nothing – because nurturing takes work and patience and developing relationships with promoters, booking agents, writers, producers, and the musicians themselves. I’m not saying, “Sign a contract and send ‘em out on tour.” I’m saying nurturing, old school A&R. But see, record labels are not — and have never been — in the music business. They’re in the profit business. They’re in the shareholder business. Shareholders want predictable profits and I’m here to tell you friends there is nothing more predictable than the nostalgia economy.
So, it was one thing for bands like the Screaming Trees to have to compete against their peers for airplay, ticket sales, and record sales. That’s kinda how it’s supposed to work. As I said in my aMiniature episode, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I don’t care for Alice In Chains, but if their success and friendship motivated Lanegan and Lee Conner and the rest of the Trees to write better songs, then I’m all for Alice In Chains. The problem is that the Trees and Alice In Chains weren’t just competing with each other and other Gen X bands. They were also directly competing with the bands of the ‘60s and ‘70s, all of whom were reissuing their back catalogs throughout the ‘90s.
This rarely gets discussed, but there was a real world impact to ‘60s nostalgia. All that shit kicked in around 1986-87, when I was a junior-senior in high school. But, it was also right when CDs were becoming adopted. So, even though the 1990s saw an astonishing flowering of creativity in Gen X roots and rock ‘n’ roll, because it happened simultaneous with the flourishing of classic rock as both a radio format and market competitor, the mid-to-late ‘90s was the worst era for good, new rock ‘n’ roll bands since rock ‘n’ roll became a thing in the late ‘40s and early ‘50s. The rock industry didn’t collapse a few years later because of illegal downloads or because kids wanted to be rappers and DJs instead of rock stars. Or, those were secondary issues. The rock industry collapsed because the rich idiot boomers in charge of rock segmented and cannibalized rock music for short-term profit instead nurturing the best music for long-term profit and general cultural health. BORING!
Part of my mission with this podcast is to have Gen Xers take pride in this subculture we nurtured. We were raised to self-deprecate and make jokes about everything because nothing supposedly mattered. Well, we’re grown-ass adults now. It’s ok to take stuff seriously. It’s ok to pat ourselves on the back a little bit, don’t go nuts, for creating and advocating for great music that existed on the margins of the mainstream. And it wasn’t just about the music. It was that the music was the by-product of healthy micro-scenes all over the country where individual Gen Xers – men, women, gay, straight – carved out our own spaces amidst a flurry of tedious and heavily marketed shareholder rock and classic rock. It’s ok to celebrate the best music of the decade, even if and especially when it wasn’t as popular as it was allowed to be. As Mark Lanegan sings, “All I know, should’ve been, could’ve been ours.”
Screaming Trees - “All I Know”
2 Meter Sessions, Dutch TV
November 16, 1996
From November 16, 1996, that’s the Screaming Trees – with a young Josh Homme on rhythm guitar – doing “All I Know” for 2 Meter Sessions, a Dutch music TV program that I believe is still going strong. That song gives you big riffs, thick drums, Lee throws down a badass solo, and he and Lanegan – the whole band, really – share a funny moment about two minutes in when Lee gets tangled up in his headphones and then wrestles them to the ground off-camera because when the camera cuts back to him he’s smiling like, “Did what I had to do, man. Stupid headphones.”
The only downside to that video is watching a disintegrated Lanegan. He’s not in great shape, his voice is ok, but he can’t hit the upper part of his register. And if you find any 1996-97 tour footage, you’re gonna see much of the same. This is what makes Dust, the Screaming Trees’ final proper album released in the summer of ‘96, kind of a miracle. Lanegan was self-immolating and taking the band down with him. And he knew it. It’s in the chorus of “Witness”:
“I could take you down with me
Show you lonely, lonely, lonely”
Screaming Trees – “Witness”
That’s the Screaming Trees with “Witness,” one of my favorite tracks on Dust, and one that totally anticipates the Gutter Twins because doesn’t that sound like the Afghan Whigs??? Maybe it’s just me. It sounds like the Trees divided by the Whigs. The song has commercial appeal, but not in a lame way, and I love that it showcases everybody in the band. Lanegan’s in fine voice, Van’s the melodic anchor on bass, and though Lee and Barrett are mostly restrained, they kick up some dust at the two-minute mark and shortly after the three-minute mark.
Songs like “Witness,” “All I Know,” and “Dying Days” are total classic rock jams and precisely the kinds of songs that afford me the luxury of ignoring actual classic rock. And to that end, it’s derelict of me that I haven’t yet mentioned producer George Drakoulias. Much as he did with The Jayhawks, Drakoulias wasn’t there to impose his stern vision of what the band should sound like. His genius was coaxing out what was already there. So, we get the classic rock Trees because that’s right in George’s wheelhouse. But, we also get the Trees experimenting with sitar rock evocative of Soundgarden (“Halo Of Ashes” and “Dime Western”). When I say those are two of my least favorite songs on Dust, I’m not saying I hate them. In fact, I respect the process of trying to incorporate new sounds into the band’s palette. My point is that Drakoulias was the kind of producer who could take a band down those two divergent paths and get the desired results.
But, GD was more than just a rock guy. There’s a moment on Dust where what the Trees need is a producer comfortable with country. Well, dude worked with the Jayhawks, so not an issue. And if you’re a Trees fan, you might be thinking, “Country song? What country song?” I’m talking about “Look At You,” which ends up being a psych pop masterpiece. But, that’s not how the song starts. It starts out like a Jim Reeves song. Here, lemme show you. And don’t worry, I’m gonna play this track in its entirety later, but I wanna do a compare and contrast so you know where I’m coming from.
When I hear the start of “Look At You” …
Screaming Trees – Look At You (first :45)
OK, let’s stop once the drums kick in because everyone knows you gotta mute the drums for the Nashville Sound. But, when I listen to how that opening stretch is arranged, this is what my brain hears:
Jim Reeves – He’ll Have To Go (first :45)
You get a LOT more rootsy than Gentleman Jim Reeves, but “He’ll Have To Go” is country as hell. And Lanegan finds a space in that aesthetic that doesn’t just work, he makes it his own. Granted, it’s only 45 seconds and then the rock band kicks in. But, that appreciation for roots music is there and it manifested most assuredly on 1999’s I’ll Take Care Of You. But, Lanegan had already ventured into country music. On July 27, 1995, Lanegan entered Bad Animals studio in Seattle with a few friends to record Willie Nelson’s “She’s Not For You.”
Mark Lanegan – “She’s Not For You”
That’s Mark Lanegan on vocals, Mike Johnson on guitar, David Krueger on fiddle, Barrett Martin on standup bass, and our old friend Dan Peters on drums doing Willie Nelson’s “She’s Not For You.” The comp from which that track comes, Twisted Willie, was released in 1996, a few months before Dust, and it’s ok. Like pretty much every comp from that era, save a couple, there’s a few highlights, some pretty goods, and some stinkers. I love the Reverend Horton Heat’s take on “Hello Walls” and L7 doing “Three Days” (with a Waylon Jennings cameo) is sneaky awesome. But, Lanegan is the only one who can meet the serious material on its own terms.
Though most famous on 1973’s Shotgun Willie LP, “She’s Not For You” was originally a Chet Atkins-produced single from 1965. What’s interesting about the Lanegan arrangement is that it forgoes the steel sound that hovered over both Nelson recordings. Instead, David Krueger’s mournful fiddle plays that role and it totally works. Also, it’s a subtle decision, but Lanegan doesn’t even come in until 1:06, so the opening third of the song is a shuffling instrumental or, it’s almost like they began with the solo. Again, it totally works because Martin and Peters don’t do anything fancy. They just swing a light pocket and let the song breathe. That Lanegan’s vocal more than matches Nelson’s vocal should go without say.
What we have, then, is another example of roots music finding its way into rock ‘n’ roll. Gen Xers have been taught since the ‘90s that alt.country was this thing over here and indie rock and alternative rock were completely different things way over there. This is what happens when your own history and your own music is disrespected and devalued. The genius of the best Gen X musicians was that they instinctively understood roots and rock ‘n’ roll were the same thing. There was no over here and way over there. There was only here. The Screaming Trees understood this. Mark Lanegan DEFINITELY understood this. Which is why “Look At You” is a rousing rock anthem wrapped around a delicate country ballad. Learn it, know it, live it.
Screaming Trees – “Look At You”
I’m gonna close out today’s show with one final song, but before I do that I just wanna remind y’all, if you want a free book about ‘90s roots, rap, and rock ‘n’ roll, go to dontcallitnothing.squarespace.com/book and a PDF download will be available there for free. There’s also a Book button in the nav bar. So, while you’re there, check out the website, past episodes, and sign up for the podcast at the $5 or $20/month levels. Just hit the “Buy Me a Coffee” button at the top of the page or “Support” button at the bottom. Also, if you’re so inclined you can do the tip jar thing at PayPal and Venmo at firstname.lastname@example.org. And if you know a Screaming Trees fan or Mark Lanegan fan who might enjoy this podcast, please share.
OK, so I wanna finish today’s podcast with arguably the greatest song the Trees ever did and it should’ve made them multimillionaires. “Look At You” is brilliant. “Traveler” is brilliant and that might actually feature Lanegan’s best vocal. But, “Sworn And Broken” is a fucking swooning masterpiece. It’s their “Hey Jude.” Benmont Tench’s Wurlitzer solo comes out of nowhere and God bless him for it. Lee Conner’s guitar tone is 100% jam and once again Lanegan demonstrates why he was probably the greatest rock singer of his era. Thanks for joining me on this journey through the Screaming Trees and Mark Lanegan discographies. Next episode will be the fourth and final installment. Talk to you next time.
Screaming Trees – “Sworn And Broken”