Introducing Catalog Club
Like a book club but with albums, we'll dive into a new discography each month
Thank you to all the people who have subscribed since this newsletter switched over to paid. The response has exceeded my expectations. Look for more programming later this week, with the introduction of my regular Friday column dedicated to new and upcoming music.
I love discographies. I love writing about them and I love talking about them. I’ve done multiple podcasts exploring artists’ careers. Most of my books are essentially very deep dives on the careers of famous bands. Over at my day job, I’ve channeled this interest into writing extremely wordy list columns about celebrated catalogs. I knew I wanted to do something in this lane for my newsletter, while also taking advantage of this particular format’s inherent “niche” aspects. On Evil Speakers, I can go deeper, longer, and a little less broad, without leaning on the populist appeal of putting numbers next to paragraphs in descending order.
Here’s where I’ve landed: Catalog Club. Each month, I’ll pick a new artist or band. (In the future, I might ask you to do it for me.) Every Tuesday of that month, I’ll post a discussion of an album by that artist or band, totaling four installments in all. Also: I’ll be announcing the programming schedule in advance, with the idea of encouraging you to listen to the upcoming record ahead of time. This participation will be vital. Think of this as a book club we can all do together, except with albums.
An important note: These posts will be audio, not text. Though it won’t be a podcast. Not exactly, anyway. It will just be me talking about the album, for a relatively compact amount of time. Likely more than 30 minutes but probably less than 40. So, sort of like a podcast, though in my own mind I’m conceptualizing it as: “What if a CD or vinyl record had a commentary track, like they do for DVDs/Blu-Rays/4K/etc.?” I’ll cover some history, dispense some opinions, offer some big-picture context, all that rock-critic stuff.
I think audio works for the “book club” feel I’m going for. I want to examine these discographies critically and thoughtfully, but I also want this to feel conversational and fun. (This carries over to the comments section, which I hope is active on these posts.) It will also provide a nice balance to the newsletter. I’ll be writing a lot so why not also talk a little? An audio post every week will leaven the overall meal. (Though if you prefer to read, Substack does generate transcripts for audio posts. And while my comments won’t be word-for-word scripted, they will be thoroughly outlined and therefore should work just fine on the page.)
My goal is to reach two audiences simultaneously — people who already know the records I’m talking about (by getting them excited to revisit said records) and neophytes (by making said records exciting to explore in the first place).
In terms of programming, the discographies I’ll be covering — I’ve mapped this out roughly six months in advance, I’m psyched to get started! — will vary widely. But there are commonalities. Here are some of them:
It’s a discography I’m interested in.
It’s a discography I’m interested in talking about.
It’s a discography I’m interested in in talking about because it connects in some way to current music I’m interested in.
It’s a discography I’m interested in in talking about because it connects in some way to current music I’m interested in AND it’s just really good music that’s not talked about enough these days. (At least not with this kind of depth.)
That about covers it. Though more overarching themes will no doubt present themselves as we proceed.
Without further ado, I’d love to introduce the Catalog Club artist for January 2026.
Lucinda Williams is a great pick for a number reasons. She’s an acknowledged master of her craft who’s now a core influence on scores of young singer-songwriters, from Katie Crutchfield to Karly Hartzman to pretty much any Americana artist you could mention. Her 1998 LP, Car Wheels On A Gravel Road, is rightfully regarded as perhaps the most important album for the twangy intersection of rock, country, folk, and blues in the past 30 years. So important, in fact, that it tends to overshadow her other, very worthy records. That’s another good reason to discuss her here.
(Lucinda also has a new record, World’s Gone Wrong, out in January. That’s what we in the business call a “timely hook.” That’s reason no. 3.)
In this series, I’ll be covering Lucinda’s career from 1980 to 1998, which includes Car Wheels and the three records that precede it. In the process, I’ll be touching on a number of topics – the conflicting Urban Cowboy and L.A. “cowpunk” movements of the early ’80s, the rise of alt-country, shifts in popular modes of roots-rock record production, the limits of genre classification, the stupidity of music industry sexism, the upside of hitting your professional and artistic peak in your late 40s, the real “new Dylan,” the blues, the open road, dead boyfriends, and so on.
For those who already know: Lucinda has one of the great catalogs for any modern singer-songwriter. (I could just as easily do another series on her 21st century work — and I might just do that in the future!) For those that don’t know Lucinda: Not only are these wonderful albums, but hearing them will put a lot of other music you like from the 2020s in fresh perspective.
The schedule for Catalog Club: Lucinda Williams (1980-1998):
January 6: Happy Woman Blues (1980)
January 13: Lucinda Williams (1988)
January 20: Sweet Old World (1992)
January 27: Car Wheels On A Gravel Road (1998)
And here is our Catalog Club artist for February 2026. Though I’m saving this tease for paying subscribers. (Catalog Club posts will normally be for paid subscribers only, though I’ll be offering a free preview of next week’s debut.)
For the rest of you, I suggest putting on Happy Woman Blues and I’ll see you here next Tuesday!
