Co-host of How Long Gone – one of the best podcasts on earth – Chris Black reveals a musical education shaped by hardcore, melancholy and anglophilia as he talks through the songs that soundtracked his life.
Sometime around the end of this year, Chris Black and Jason Stewart’s podcast will be close to celebrating its 1000-episode anniversary.
The prestige How Long Gone remains an exception to the rule that two male friends shouldn’t make a podcast together, and has become one of the few such enterprises to find gold in the simple formula of chatting shit with your buddy.
The through-line to the duo’s schtick is also based on a healthy lean into their own definition of prestige: strong opinions, truly interesting guests from the worlds of media, fashion, literature, music, and business, and a complete lack of the usual bullshit questions that deflate similar undertakings before the five minute mark.
Black’s contribution to the discourse is beautifully coloured by his journey from a hardcore kid in the Atlanta suburbs to managing bands, consulting for elite brands, and a well-covered triumph over OxyContin. A music fan in its purest form, he’s also as passionate about the loss of gatekeepers in pop culture as he is talking about every song we touch on in an effort to map out his life in music.
While he’s a fan of Stereogum and Best Fit, he tells me, “the problem is that we used to have so many music sites that were ‘indie’, and now they’re just talking about Sabrina Carpenter, which obviously makes business sense but I can get that anywhere if I want it,” he says. “I can read Billboard or The Hollywood Reporter! I don’t need it from you!”
A former band manager, Black got to flex his own musical muscles recently as vocalist on a delightful cover of The Lemonheads’ “My Drug Buddy”, aided by an indie pantheon that includes Katie Crutchfield (Waxahatchee), MJ Lenderman and Kevin Morby. The song came together after a growing friendship with Crutchfield and Morby over the last three years.
“Kevin and I have a very similar sense of humour,” Black tells me. “And Katie grew up in Birmingham and I grew up in Atlanta so we have a lot of shared history.” They originally played the song live in Boston at a How Long Gone recording at the end of 2023. “It wasn’t a gag but it was entirely for fun,” Black tells me. “And then Kevin was just like: we gotta record it.”
With producer Brad Cook and Lenderman on board they completed the song during the same session in which Crutchfield recorded her contribution to last year’s North Carolina hurricane relief record. Cook even sourced some vocal takes from Evan Dando’s original which he buried in the mix. “Indie make-a-wish” is how Black describes the project. “Kevin and Katie and Jake are making some of my favourite music and they were so encouraging. They really wanted me to have fun and be part of the process.”
As a consummate music fan, 40-something Black didn’t grow up in a musical household at all. “I joke about this all the time, but my Dad drives to his office every day with no music on – he just does not listen to music at all – so some of the earliest memories I have are from mom. She’d play Whitney Houston, Mariah, Carey, Janet Jackson in the car… and maybe at home there’d be some Elton John or The Beatles. It wasn't really until I started discovering things on my own in middle school that things really started to become a set memory.”
None of Black's Nine Songs choices came out after 2011. Does he think that it’s harder for songs to permeate canon life events beyond our 20s? “I remember when Phoebe Bridgers came out and I was like this is unfucking believable,” he proclaims, as if no other trust existed. “It was 2015, I was getting a divorce, I was listening to Phoebe Bridgers and I was wallowing in it. I love that music, but it's harder to go back to, whereas the things that I've included here, I think, are happier – they remind me of good times, or at least times before things got complicated.
"When life was about going out with my friends, and that's all that mattered and responsibility and adulthood isn't sitting on your shoulders like a rock. And I think that’s when you enjoy music the most!”
"Conduit" by Converge (2005)
BEST FIT: I know you were a hardcore kid but Converge definitely fall on the more metal extremes of that music
CHRIS BLACK: I started going to shows when I was 13, there were a lot of house shows and my parents would drive my friend Jay and I downtown and drop us off, and we were kind of the youngest people there all the time.
With stuff like that, you start with local bands, and get into stuff like Operation Ivy and NOFX – that kind of stuff is a little easier to get into. But then you find the traditional hardcore stuff, like Gorilla Biscuits, Earth Crisis… and Converge was always considered the best of the best and that’s partly because the shows are so crazy, partly because it's very, very technical.
This song is just crazy - it’s a crazy song with insane guitar parts and when you're 13 or 14 years old, and you hear people in a room screaming “This time it's war”, it's pretty hard not to get pumped up by that.
I think the best part about hardcore is that I really left it when I got into my early 20s. I just had no use for aggressive music anymore, even though it formed my entire palette – but now I listen to records like this every day at the gym. I never did that until a couple years ago, and now it's like Converge, American Nightmare, Indecision… I found my way back to all of the bands that I grew up listening to, and Converge – and this song in particular – really holds up to the test of time.
I think the thing about hardcore that’s funny – and I didn’t realise at the time – is that it taught me so much about a world that I would not have been exposed to until I was much, much older. Whether it's like animal rights or women's rights, all these things were a big part.
It was really dramatic to be that age and care about everything but I'm very glad that I did because when you grow up in the south… finding that kind of stuff at 14 or 15, when your brain is still developing, is the best possible outcome.
“Between the Bars” by Elliot Smith (1997)
Elliot Smith is someone who appears a lot when we do this feature. What did he mean to you?
Elliot Smith, like a lot of the stuff in this list - like The Cure and The Smiths – is strangely hardcore adjacent, despite being obviously musically different. And I just love Elliot – the songs are really catchy, you know - there’s melodies, and this guy was clearly tortured.. and he was on Kill Rock Stars Records too which is also very hardcore adjacent.
I listen to Elliot Smith all the time, to this day – all the time – and I think the whole thing about stabbing himself and the conspiracy theories around it all, there wasn't that kind of sort of celebrity around artists like that back then.
Elliott Smith has such an amazing catalogue, and this song is one of the best. I always romanticised LA and even though he's like a North Northwest guy, for some reason his music always talked about LA too.
I loved his band too before he went solo. There's a lot of really iconic photos of him from this era that really embody it and the look, the overall feeling. I also think, for better or worse, that it's cool when musicians are on drugs! I always romanticised that, which is probably why I ended up being a drug addict, just because I thought that was cool.
Now I'm older, I know better that you don't have to be tortured to make great art, but when you're younger, you don't really realise that, and you really idolize that in someone. I think Elliot Smith embodies that completely.
“Catch” by The Cure (1987)
In Atlanta there was a radio station called 99x and it was the alternative station. They would have an '80s block at lunch, from twelve to one, or whatever – or if you listened to it late at night – and they would play The Cure and The Smiths.
There's something so melodramatic about both of those bands that when you're young and feeling things so deeply for the first time, you really relate to it. This Cure song is a hit, “Catch” is a smash. It’s been used in film and TV, I think it’s aged perfectly and I listen to it all the time.
I remember going to see The Cure with my high school girlfriend at an amphitheatre and having my mind blown. I couldn't believe Robert Smith was a real person! You know? This motherfucker is up there in a full face of makeup, in Southern humidity in August, just sweating it off, and it blew my mind.
Disintegration and all that stuff has been part of my world for so long that I can't imagine my life without it.
“Cemetery Gates” by The Smiths (1986)
I don’t know if “Cemetery Gates” is a lot of people's favorite Smiths song, but to me it’s one of his best. I like the way that he's referencing these famous writers, but he's also kind of being funny and it really just encapsulates Morrissey.
I think The Smiths is one of the few bands that has truly withstood the tests of time too. The Queen is Dead sounds as fresh as it did when it came out and that’s kind of unbelievable, and it was a real moment in time.
Everything about The Smiths is so deeply, deeply British, which is something else that appealed to me too, because it was the same but just a little different, you know. You speak the same language but you’re referencing different things. I think that Manchester really does create a certain kind of music that can't come from anywhere else, and I think the Smiths are the best version of that.
Oasis was on the radio a lot too and they had a look and an attitude that you could kind of emulate a little bit more. That’s part of the reason they were so popular, because any guy could go buy a Stone Island jacket, some jeans and wallabees and be an asshole and do coke…. But The Smiths felt more like artists, it felt more delicate, more poetic. For lack of a better term, it felt more pretty, you know?
It’s beautiful music in a lot of ways. The feelings that they're able to evoke in someone is like opening a door, if that makes sense. The whole heart on the sleeve thing - “this is who I am” – is just very, very powerful
Morrissey’s cancellation over in the US really hasn’t taken in the same way as it has UK, has it?
A lot of people, like the Smiths get a pass you know, but a lot of our greats, unfortunately, don't age that well, especially when it comes to their politics, their mental capacity. It’s the same thing with Van Morrison and Eric Clapton. That doesn't change the fact that this album was the most important thing to me for a very big part of my life. I just think it's crazy to think that you can separate that. It’s crazy to ask a human being to forgo something that is cemented in their brain.
I mean he's wrong and all these guys are in the wrong – there's no question that he's in the wrong! But it doesn't make the songs less good for me.
“If He Can’t Have You” by Whiskeytown (1995)
I spent so much time listening to this album… Son Volt, Uncle Tupelo, The Jayhawks, all that shit hit me in my early twenties, when I was going out a lot. I had barfly aspirations, I was doing a lot of coke, I was wearing cowboy shirts.
I lived in this house with one of my best friends from high school, and we would listen to this and drink whiskey and coke, do blow and go out and that was our lives for two or three years.
I just didn't know music like that existed, because when you're Southern and you're into punk and hardcore, you reject the idea of country music. It’s the antithesis of what you like and what you want to be. But then I heard Whiskeytown I was like 'Oh wait, this is punk!' This is punk but it has a little twang to it, and some of those classic country triggers, there's a pedal steel and a violin and all that stuff.
Ryan Adams was also the ultimate kind of rock star to me in a lot of ways, like this guy's got a drink problem, a drug problem. He's a dickhead, but he wears his heart on his sleeve. He likes all the same stuff I like.
Whiskeytown put out three records and weren’t prolific like Ryan Adams but this one is a little rougher and a little more punk. This song in particular is on the middle of the record somewhere and I've listened to it a thousand times. I listen to it still and I think that that period of music doesn't get the recognition it deserves.
Most people think of Ryan Adams and they think of Heartbreaker, but this record resonates with me, probably because of what I relate to in it personally.
“The Greatest” by Cat Power (2006)
Cat Power is from Atlanta like me and she was always this kind of mythic figure that would always be around, you know? Like she’d sometimes be working the door at a bar but she always had this career too – and it just felt closer because of that
This song is just a masterpiece, man. All of her music feels like that to me and I think she's got one of the most special voices that we've ever heard. But this one in particular cements a time in my life when I living in a certain neighbourhood and doing certain things.
Just also being able to listen to music like this that's pretty sad overall, listening to it all the time: I'm going to work, I'm listening to this, I'm at home, I'm eating dinner, I’m listening to this. It was a CD and I listened to it in my car. I listened to it at home I just rinsed it! I think if I was listening to it as much now though, some of this stuff would affect my mood a little more than it did.
We had her on How Long Gone and she was amazing. She was really gracious with us and really cool, but she opened the show by telling us how she had to move because she had a stalker. It’s becoming more and more normal for me to talk to someone on How Long Gone who is a mythic figure that I grew up with and feels so close to me and someone like her is a great example of that. She'll message me occasionally and we’ll talk, I'll go to a show. She’s so nice and so normal. We have a lot of friends in common.
Do you ever wonder if your experience of music has been radically transformed - for better or worse – by meeting your idols and seeing behind the red curtain?
I still love it. I love it more than I did when I managed a band. This is the most glamorous and cool art form, and it forever will be to me. I don't care about movies. I don't really care about TV. Getting to know some of these people - some of whom I've listened to for a long time – is fascinating and it brings me great joy, really. That's the only way to put it. If you want to talk about all the business stuff, and about streaming, you know, I don't give a fuck about that!
We had Johnny Marr on the show and he was fucking great, but part of the reason that How Long Gone has had any success is that we treat everyone the same, and I think that is at the end of the day, no matter how recognised or are famous you are, you don't want to be treated like that every second of every day.
You may have more talent in your pinky than I do in my entire body, but you're still a normal person who has to do all the things that we have to do. There’s some level of that being our trick a little bit, you know?
“For Reasons Unknown” by The Killers (2006)
I am a known loud and proud Killers apologist and I think they’re America's last great stadium rock band. I saw them at the O2 in London last summer and they opened with "Mr. Brightside" and they were unbelievable
I managed a band called Cartel who were a top 40 band, a pop-punk rock band – they were guys I grew up with – and we had a little bit of success. We got invited to the VMAs at Radio City, it was the first time we'd ever been to anything like that and I had to go buy a suit at Barney's.
That night, The Killers debuted this album Sam’s Town and they opened the show with the first single from that record. Sam's Town is still one of the best of all time for me – it’s like the perfect combination of their kind of ‘British’ side with their Springsteen side. Brandon Flowers can write a hit and most people just can't – and it’s a real band, you know? It’s him and eight Swedish guys in a room coming up with these songs. It's like a real band!
This song in particular really, really stuck with me. Brandon Flowers actually plays bass on this and when they do it live, they'll often get someone from the crowd to play drums on the song. There's all these videos of it and it’s always is funny, because this is my favorite song and you're leaving it up to chance with some fucking fourteen year old playing drums.
But almost every time it's good because you're not going to be that confident to get on stage with your favorite band unless you can actually play the fucking song, you know.
"Passionate Kisses" by Lucinda Williams (1988)
I think most people talk about Car Wheels on a Gravel Road as their favourite album but this record just has hits, you know? I went and saw Katie (Crutchfield) play at the Ryman in Nashville on the first tour for the new Waxahatchee record and her and Jake (Lenderman) covered a Lucinda Williams song and Lucinda was there – and I met her!
These songs are so catchy, it’s insane. If it wasn't a kind of country sound, I think it would be giant, giant music. There was a record store in Atlanta called Criminal Records and this kind of music would be recommended by the staff and is a great example of a record that I wouldn't have discovered on my own. I find her voice is so powerful, that’s what it really comes down to, and “Passionate Kisses” it's so catchy, it’s a hit! It’s a hit!
Do you ever got back to those record stores you grew up with now and buy stuff?
No, because I never liked records, I was a CD guy. That store still exists but the problem is I spent so much time and money in that store. They had the magazine rack where you could get SPIN and Punk Planet, Maximum Rocknroll and HeartattaCk, and also fashion magazines like The Face and ID and Dazed, but now it’s basically a comic book store that has vinyl, because vinyl sells to Taylor Swift Fans. So it's changed a lot, but I'm glad it's still in business.
I guess you must have come of age in the era of file sharing, how did that change the way you found music?
I remember spending hours in the basement of my childhood home with the Dell laptop fired up, just downloading 24 hours a day, every record I liked, and every record by every artist I liked but that I hadn't heard. I don't think I realised what it would do and that would become how everything works.
In punk and hardcore, there's always been a big focus on vinyl, seven inches, 10 inches and handmade covers and collectability, and digital files that you download illegally are the exact opposite, but it meant that you were able to give yourself an education on music on a level that had never before been possible. Now that's what everybody is born with.
While I'm still buying CDs because I want to listen to stuff in my car or whatever, if I want to check something out, I don't have to spend any money or any time to do that. I can go click a couple times and decide if I like something, and that's a very big shift.
I heard you talking on the podcast about getting into the Cameron Winter record because Kenny Beats sent it to you – do you get more stuff these days than ever before from your network of friends and bands?
I have a lot of friends, obviously, in the business and on both sides – like artists, producers, managers, label people – they’ll send me stuff, and for How Long Gone we get every promo, but a lot of it comes from friends and people that you trust. That’s another blessing of having this show.
I was writing about Cameron Winter today actually, for my GQ column that comes out tomorrow – and his record feels like something that should be passed on like through text message, you know? It feels like he wants it to be experienced that way, even though you can totally go out and buy the vinyl of it, or get it on Spotify or Apple Music.
But I just love finding new stuff, and I look at all these sites, I listen to stuff on your site, on Stereogum.
“How Come You Never Go There” by Feist (2011)
2011 was a weird time. I was pretty into drugs at that point, and there was just something about this record. I love Feist and I've always loved Feist since “Mushaboom”, but I think she's really underappreciated across the board.
She’s one of those rare people who suffered greatly from having a huge hit. Sure, it allowed her to like, buy an island, it made people think of her in a different way – but she’s a real artist.
And this song, it’s really emotional, to be honest. The lyrics are unbelievable, the musicianship is unbelievable. I find myself coming back to this a lot – and the record after this too – and being shocked that it feels like I'm the only person that knows about it, even though I know that's not true.
It feels like something very personal and that it was made for me at that time. I think that it gets harder and harder for stuff to feel like that now, but I was also looking for something at that time and I wasn't finding it – and I think that this was the soundtrack to that.
I saw the last tour and she played this and I get choked up listening to it every time. Feist does something to me and I don't know what it is. I don't know if it's the tone of her voice or the way she enunciates. I just find her just to be really, really special.
And then she just disappears, dude – she goes away for five years and comes back with a song, she does Tiny Desk and shit like that and she just blows people out of the fucking water.
Part of the appeal of Cameron Winter is that it feels like somebody made it with their hands and Feist records feel like she made them with her hands too. It doesn't feel like there's a guy on a computer and I think that's a little bit of a through-line through all these songs that I picked. It feels like like somebody's touching, not robot made it, like a lot of music today does
They're proper songs, aren't they?
They're proper songs! That Converge song is aggressive and loud and weird, but those guys made that song and you can imagine the environment they were in when they did it. I think that's a big part of all this stuff.
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