Producer and engineer to the stars Trevor Spencer joins us to defend his favourite college dorm room McCartney album, "Ram". Tensions are high, internet is wobbly, sunshine is blinding. It's Wednesday on Impossible Way Of Life.

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The people have spoken and we are diving head first into discussing and ranking Paul's 70s records. There's only one place to start: His true bedroom/indie, exploratory, one man jam album "McCartney". Beatles are good?

It's the morning after the election and we are all deciding where to go next, both as a podcast and as a society. We have finished our journey through Neil Young's albums (the best ones) and are on the bridge headed somewhere new. The destination is uncertain but we will get to the other side, one way or another, hand in hand, one step at a time.

Well, it's definitely better to burn out than to fade away when it comes to our Neil Young album ranking extravaganza. Our journey through the past may end here at "Rust Never Sleeps", but ol' Neil's still flying down the road like the hurricane that he is. Long may your run, Neil. Long may you run.

This is a pretty totemic episode. We welcome back IWOL alumni Alex Bleeker to plug his new book "Taste In Music", eulogize and rank Phil Lesh and discuss Neil Young's "Comes a Time". There's a little controversy mixed in too....don't miss this one.

As our Neil Young campaign nears its end we saddle up the palomino and mosy into American Stars and Bars. We've also had just about enough of the league of technical music villains and their attempted coup d'etat of classic rock, so we're fighting back.

Neil's living on the dock and Stills is scuba diving off the deep end and getting high on his own nitrogen supply. You guessed it folks...we've made it to "Long May You Run" by The Stills Young Band.

An atmospheric river is hitting the BC coast this weekend so we talk and rank Neil Young's "Zuma" before the apocalypse hits and the internet goes down.

Neil Young’s Zuma feels like a musical equivalent of Ed Harris’s character in The Rock—both driven by conflict, intensity, and moments of raw emotion that seem to surge from a place of deep conviction. If Brigadier General Francis Hummel had a soundtrack to his brooding, morally complicated mission, it could very well be Zuma—an album that balances aggression, reflection, and the restless search for meaning.