Gret Kot and Jim DeRogatis offer their own expertise in the punk genre but these two episodes click because of guest authors Simon Reynolds and Ira Robbins, both of whom were front and center as the genre exploded on both sides of the pond. 

Part One loops in Reynolds, author of a number of excellent music books, to help describe the birth and legacy of English punk. Trouser Press founder Robbins guests on Part Two and explains that the New York scene actually caught fire a few years before and in fact influenced the more flamboyant adn politically potent U.K. scene. 

Cruickshank has since escaped the shackles of his cranky old boss, Wesley J Tee, and now works for progressive and tolerable bosses. He unleashes a lot of pent-up venom in the first segment of this podcast but it's in a fun way. 

Anyone who's ever worked in the business of journalism will find themselves smiling, and sometimes nodding in agreement. 

Aimee Mann, who got her start years ago in Til Tuesday (remember "Voices Carry"?), remains criminally ignored despite a sterling solo career and self-effacing appearances on "Portlandia." 

This fun video from her upcoming album features John Hodgman and Laura Linney, whose characters directly and indirectly encourage Mann to stay in the shadows. Kinda ironic since that's where she's been since MTV stopped playing music videos. 

I'm among those smart folks who proclaim "The Wire" one of the best TV shows ever and also admit that people who say that are sometimes full of it. 

So it's with a smirk that I share this fun Lego-powered interpretation of some of the series' themes. Hardcore fans will catch more than a few inside jokes. 

It's a crime these melodic hard rockers aren't a household name, with a 42-year career that's still going strong, as I noted last year. 

But this post focuses on "The Chrysalis Years (1973-1979)," an excellent five-CD collection that highlights the band at its commercial peak. At a time when FM was coming into its own, UFO delivered a series of radio-friendly rockers like "Lights Out," "Rock Bottom," "Doctor Doctor" and "Only You Can Rock Me."

The family tried to escape the heat by heading down to Los Angeles Saturday for a bit of sightseeing. 

First stop was to see an excellent multimedia program titled "Who Shot Rock & Roll: A Photographic History, 1955 to the Present." 

The focus of the show at The Annenberg Space for Photography is on 166 prints capturing a wide variety of bands, genres and moments. The lineup of more than 100 contributing photographers is stunning and the Annenberg has given their work the royal treatment.

Many of the photos have taken on iconic status. But many are lesser-known but equally deserving of attention,

A BBC documentary titled "Grand Prix: The Killer Years" is both fascinating and gut-wrenching in documenting the horrific period in the late 1960s and early 1970s when Formula 1 drivers were perishing right and left. 

The archival footage is remarkably illuminating in capturing the dangers of driving a race car in those days. But it's the effective use of interviews with former drivers, mechanics, journalists and widows that pulls the story together and makes the hourlong documentary fly by. 

The documentary ends with a particularly tragic scene -- but one that encapsulates the theme and reminds us that racing is a much better industry thanks to brave souls like Jackie Stewart and David Purley who refused to simply accept common belief that death was simply something at which to shrug your shoulders.  

Here's a terrifiic Los Angeles Review of Books podcast in which host Oliver Wang interviews R.J. Smith, author of "The One: The Life and Music of James Brown."

Smith shares great insight into Brown's colorful personality and long, varied career.

But Wang and Smith also spend a lot of time diving into the nitty-gritty of Brown's musical philosophy. Of particular note to me is a fascinating segment beginning at about 17:00 that breaks down the drum track on "I've Got Money" and debates Brown's impact on shifting rhythm patterns in popular music, the difficulty of playing a true shuffle and the contrasts and commonalities of Brown's two main drummers. 

What was originally Chicago Transit Authority quickly evolved into simply Chicago, and became a hit machine from the late 1960s through the 1990s. I've beeen a longtime fan of the band -- mostly the '60s and 70s output -- and particularly Seraphine's spectacular musicianship, so I read "Street Player" from a fan's perspective. 

To my knowledge there's no authoritative history of Chicago, so Seraphine's story shares a rich backstory about a prolific band whose blend of rock and jazz remain mainstays of American radio. And Seraphine hangs it all out, sharing warts and all of a band that lived the rock 'n' roll lifestyle 24-7 and had ups and downs you'd expect from any large family living under intense presssure to stay on top. Seraphine and co-author Adam Mitchell aren't gifted writers but the detail from 40 years in the music biz makes for a fast read.

Only, in typically creative Grantland fashion, Greenwald and Ryan -- using the news that Blur would close the Games -- took that news 10 steps further and shared separate Spotify playlists.

Their lists -- titled "Lorries, Torches and Flats" and "Handbags and the Lad Mags" -- highlight a very ripe period in British pop-rock history (and one that's a weak spot for me). You get the usual suspects like Radiohead, Blur, Oasis, New Order and Stone Roses, but there are lesser-known gems that hold their own. Greenwald even dips his toes into mainstream over-produced pop like Take That and Everything But The Girl, but their inclusion actually works. 

It's great fun, and I think will make for a nice backing track to the Games themselves. I mean, how much blather from the announcers can one take anyway?

You can find links to both playlists here (scroll to the bottom).