Tape Spaghetti

A big ol' multi-million-dollar record deal, a rebel artist, a major corporate label, and "total creative freedom." What could possibly go wrong?

In this episode of Tape Spaghetti, Scott and Blake unravel the chaotic 1980s era of Neil Young. When Young let his artistic spirit soar into downright experimental territory, his own label, Geffen, sued him for not being “Neil Young enough.”

While the album he delivered technically fit the contract, it certainly didn't meet expectations. Fans were confused, executives were pissed, and Young was accused of fulfilling the brief in an act of pure sabotage.

The lawsuit that followed shook the industry. Was the artist in the right for boldly embodying his creative identity, or did Geffen have cause to react on behalf of Young's frustrated fans?

Here's how Neil Young's foray into synth-heavy rockabilly music actually spoke to a larger argument over who *actually* owns an artist's signature sound.

As a native Pacific-Northwesterner with roots in the music scene, our very own Blake Wyland is verifiably Portland-proud. But this week he delves into one of the city's darkest stories...with shocking ties to a beloved rock venue. This episode of Tape Spaghetti takes you inside the history of Portland’s Roseland Theater, previously known as the Starry Night nightclub—where the town's vibrant music culture masked something incredibly sinister. Sure, lots of clubs engage in semi-shady operations, but in this case, a story about a scrappy rock venue quickly twists into a full-blown crime saga involving counterfeit tickets, a volatile owner, a group of deeply suspicious insiders, and an employee who gets too close to exposing the truth. When things take a violent turn, the aftermath is as unsettling as the crime itself. No body. Lingering mystery. How the heck did this story stay hidden for so long?

What do Joe Pesci, Oscar Isaac, and Keanu Reeves all have in common? No, this isn't the weirdest casting call of all time (though, we'd totally watch that movie) – it's MUSIC.

In this episode of Tape Spaghetti, Scott and Blake dive into the unexpected world of actors who were (or still are) legit musicians. This Hollywood crossover occurs in some seriously surprising places, and the actors in question weren't just dipping their toes into the music scene. They were genuinely grinding it out in bands.

Oscar Isaac as a ska frontman. Fred Armisen earning genuine punk cred. Jeff Goldblum's jazz orchestra. Or Keanu Reeves quietly rocking out in Dogstar. This one'll make you rethink some actors you thought you knew, and highlights how the siren song of musical success can continue to lure established celebrities – even when they're already household names.

Before his name became synonymous with nightmares and jumpscares, John Carpenter was a humble film student with an extremely limited budget.

So, what did this industrious director do when he couldn't afford to hire a composer? He became one.

This week on Tape Spaghetti, Scott & Blake look at Carpenter's lesser-known brilliance as a music-maker and how what started as a workaround became a legacy of minimalist tension and, without hyperbole, the sound of fear itself.

With a lofty imagination but no money for an orchestra, Carpenter discovered he could create massive, atmospheric synth soundscapes entirely on his own.

That approach exploded with Halloween, where a simple, relentless theme became instantly recognizable.

But the story doesn’t end there. From Escape from New York to The Thing (with a little help from Ennio Morricone), Carpenter kept evolving his sound while building a catalog of cult classics. Eventually, he stepped away from directing and leaned fully into music, even touring and releasing albums of “soundtracks for movies that don’t exist.”

Here's how a kid who grew up resisting formal music training became the architect of some of the most pervasive film music of all time – scary movie or otherwise.

A burned out music teacher with no plan. A room full of kids. And a record that sounds like nothing else on earth.

In this episode of Tape Spaghetti, Scott, Blake, and guest Nate Catanzarite discuss the Langley Schools Music Project, which started out as a classroom experiment and ended up as a captivating cult classic.

Frustrated with traditional lessons, teacher Hans Fenger let students choose songs they loved – including tunes by David Bowie and the Beach Boys – and learn them by ear, turning disengaged kids into a full-blown choir and band.

Recorded live with minimal gear, the result was raw, imperfect, and strangely powerful. Decades later, a crate-digging DJ stumbled across the record and unleashed it on the world, quickly turning it into an underground sensation.

Here’s how a kids’ choir accidentally summoned something truly cosmic.