
Tape Spaghetti
The “Twisted” Side Of The Music World
Blake Wyland & Scott Marquart
Show overview
Tape Spaghetti launched in 2025 and has put out 70 episodes in the time since. That works out to roughly 80 hours of audio in total. Releases follow a weekly cadence.
Episodes typically run an hour to ninety minutes — most land between 1h 2m and 1h 15m — and the run-time is fairly consistent across the catalogue. It is catalogued as a EN-language Music show.
The show is actively publishing — the most recent episode landed 6 days ago, with 32 episodes already out so far this year. Published by Blake Wyland & Scott Marquart.
From the publisher
Welcome to Tape Spaghetti—where music history gets tangled. Hosts Blake Wyland and Scott Marquart dive into the wildest, weirdest, and most unexpected stories from the music industry. From legendary feuds to bizarre scandals, insane characters… and even murder! On this show we unravel the chaos behind the songs you love, the musicians you know, and stories that you need to hear.
Latest Episodes
View all 70 episodesThe Tragic Life and Death of Marvin Gaye
Ringo Starr, Phil Collins & Kirk Hammett: The Replacements Who Changed Everything
Paul Simon’s Graceland Problem
The Assassination Of John Lennon Makes Absolutely No Sense
How The Beatles Fell Apart While Making The White Album
How Fake Music Is Bleeding Real Artists Dry
How Country Music Tried to Destroy the *Dixie* Chicks
The $36 Song That Terrified the FBI (Mike Mitchell of The Kingsmen)
Chuck Berry, Dick Clark & Rock ’n’ Roll’s Payola Scandal
Sugar Ray, Smash Mouth, and the One-Hit Wonders That Weren’t
Jim Sullivan Drove Into the Desert and Disappeared
The FBI vs. The Fugs
Gram Parsons’ Friends Stole His Body and Burned It
The Beach Boys Made a Rap Song… And That’s Not the Worst Part
Waylon Jennings, Cocaine, and a DEA Raid Gone Wrong
Neil Young Got SUED for Not Sounding Like… Himself?
The Dark Secret of Portland’s Roseland Theater
Keanu Reeves Has a Band… and So Do These Actors
John Carpenter: The Man Who Scored Your Nightmares
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.
The Langley Schools Music Project: A Choir From Another Dimension?
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.