Episode 1 — December 22, 2021
Broken Homes
Podcasts
Broken Homes
Episode 1 — Broken Homes (1986)
It’s no secret to anyone who has ever spoken with me that I think the Broken Homes self-titled debut album from 1986 is one of the best albums in rock music. Full stop.
I know, I know, I’ve been prattling about this album for years.
And I’m guessing you’ve never heard of Broken Homes… or heard the album (Soundcloud link below… because it isn’t available anywhere — no joke.) It’s a blight on the landscape that this album remains inaccessible.
The Backstory
I’ve been kicking around the idea of a podcast that highlights albums that just never broke through OR albums that have just been forgotten about over time. At the top of that list was always the Broken Homes debut album.
I seriously love this fucking album.
So I started building a list of albums and artists that I could cover on the podcast. And then my creativity wandered off, but the idea would pop up every now and again.
The Now
Earlier this year (2021), I re-visited the podcast idea — because what else is there to do during a pandemic? So, I kicked the proverbial can around again. And still, Broken Homes was at the top of my list, so I started nosing around. I followed guitarist Craig Ross on Instagram and bass player Jimmy Ashhurst on Twitter. I knew that the original drummer Craig Aaronson had passed away several years ago; the only missing link was Michael Doman.
Now, over the years, I had popped in on Facebook, and Doman would post something periodically. When I looked at his page, I noticed all of these condolence remarks, etc., and I dug in. It took a couple of minutes for me to confirm what I was increasingly believing to be true — Mike Doman had passed away in December of 2020.
The motivation I was feeling towards the podcast lessened because one of the principal guys I wanted to get as a guest had passed away. So I did what I usually do, I wrote about the album… again.
A few months later, I received a note from Don Harvey.
I did not know a Don Harvey.
But I read the email anyway.
He had found the article I reference above and had some nice things to say and then dropped a bombshell — he was actually the guy who drummed on the album and not Craig Aaronson. Don gave me the run-down of how that came to pass and offered to talk about it if I ever wanted to.
Indeed I did.
I figured this would be the ideal time to start the podcast.
But I never wanted to do it on my own; I knew I wanted to work with someone. I had spoken with Rob Janicke a couple of times; I enjoyed his writing and knew we had a similar music sensibility, so I asked him if he would be into it. He was.
The show’s conceit was that Rob and I would be in an actual recording studio, and we’d use Zoom or Skype to talk to people. Once I had found the studio (Sage Sound Studios in Shelton, CT — the folks from Electric Ladyland never got back to me, for real), and we nailed down a date that worked for Don, Rob, and myself, we were good to go.
Once we had the date and time nailed down, Don asked if guitarist Craig Ross or bass player Jimmy Ashhurst would be joining the conversation. The truth is, I had never considered it.
Jimmy and I had traded Twitter DM’s a couple of years ago when I asked him if the album’s master tapes were destroyed in the Universal fire in 2017 — he replied that they were.
In any event, I hadn’t considered asking Craig or Jimmy because I didn’t think they’d be interested, but I threw caution to the wind.
I reached out and pitched them both, and Craig said he would be into it. Jimmy didn’t respond initially.
Two days before Rob and I were scheduled to talk with Craig and Don, I looked up producer Jeff Eyrich. I noticed he had his contact info listed, so I sent him a note — honestly, figuring two days would not be enough lead time, even if he got back to me.
I was wrong.
Jeff said he would love to talk about the album, but he was on vacation in Greece, so there would be a time difference.
It all came together surprisingly fast. And I couldn’t have been more stoked.
One Sunday afternoon in September, we all Skyped in and talked. The guys couldn’t have been nicer. It was fun to watch them reconnect.
As we all talked Craig, Jeff, and Don were able to provide insight (as well as some fun stories) as we tried to understand why the album didn’t reach a wider audience.
The conversation bounced around quite a bit. As one of the hosts, I can tell you that trying to corral four men, five including the one who was giddy to be speaking with the people who made one of his favorite albums, is a lot like cat wrangling. But it was a great and fun discussion.
The next day I got an email from Jimmy Ashhurst, and he said he’d be into talking about the album so we set up a time for Rob and me to speak with him the following Friday. And like the other guys, he was super friendly, honest, and funny as hell.
To be honest, I didn’t expect anyone to be a dick… I was just a bit gobsmacked that they’d be interested in a new podcast with no listeners.
On a professional level, it came together organically and quickly.
On a personal level, I was a middle-aged fanboy talking with the creative team behind one of my all-time favorite albums.
And thank Christ, it is one of my favorite albums. When I sat down to edit everything, I realized that in my enthusiasm I hadn’t gotten everything I wanted. As a result, Rob and I had to do another round in the studio, and I had to purchase a mic so I could do punch-ins at home.
All of that resulted in my editing the podcast about 200 times — no joke. Stitching a narrative together became my main priority. A lot of podcasts are just people talking, and if Rob and I had decided to do that, the podcast with these guys would’ve been about as coherent as the New Jersey highway system… and about as frustrating.
After one particular edit, a friend said it sounded more like a documentary than a typical podcast. That simple comment saved me from going quite insane.
And thus, Abandoned Albums became a documentary podcast — not so much in the style of Ken Burns, but more like Jim Jarmusch (if he made doc’s).
Look, I’ve written about this Broken Homes debut album annually for the past four or five years. I think the only other artist I may have written about more is The Replacements (listen to the podcast to catch the connection.)
The music is just fantastic on this record, and after talking with the guys behind the album, it makes the album all the more enjoyable. I won’t spoil it about where we all landed on why the album didn’t reach a larger audience, but we all landed in a similar place.
I did get to interview Mike Doman’s brother, Mark. He provided a lot of background information about Mike, and I plan on sewing together an audio piece about Mike.
If you like bare bones, blues-based rock and roll, you can’t do much better than this album.
The music here is just fantastic. I’ve always loved the album and after speaking with and learning more about the people involved with the record, it’s a travesty that you don’t know this album.
That sounds hyperbolic, I know, but fuck it — it’s true.