Rivals: Music's Greatest Feuds

The series premiere of 'Off the Record' explores the life — or, rather, lives — of David Bowie by examining each of his iconic personas. Major Tom. Ziggy Stardust. Aladdin Sane. The Thin White Duke. Taken collectively, these faces form a portrait of a one-of-a-kind rock legend. Follow his transformation from lonely London boy struggling to find his way in the Swinging Sixties to cultural innovator, whose relentless drive and daring nearly destroyed him. You know the songs, now meet the man. The 11-part season begins Monday, January 18th!  Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Elvis Presley was the man to beat when Jerry Lee Lewis made the drive from small-town Louisiana to Memphis in 1956. The piano punisher had come for the King of Rock’s crown and was determined to show him up at every turn. Jerry Lee scored a deal on Elvis’ onetime label, employed the same management, and even some of the same songwriters. The pair duked it out in the charts in the late ‘50s, but the image conscious Elvis remained a much bigger crossover star than Jerry Lee, who relished his role as an uncompromising bad boy. When Elvis received his draft notice, Jerry Lee seemed poised to take over as rock’s leading voice. Then it all came crashing down as his troubling private life became public. Exiled from the rock ’n’ roll spotlight, Jerry Lee spent much of the ‘60s playing honky tonk dives and slowly rebuilding his musical career. Meanwhile, Elvis effectively abdicated his throne, trading electrifying singles for well-paying yet vapid films. Both men emerged from the wilderness by the end of the decade, spurring each other’s musical efforts. There was a begrudging respect between them, but Jerry Lee’s aggression sometimes got the best of him — like the time he showed up at Presley’s Graceland estate late one night with a gun. They didn’t call him “The Killer” for nothing. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Our series on The Eagles concludes with a look at the business dealings and lawsuits that took place behind the scenes and the man who helped to shape their early career, David Geffen. A Brooklyn kid whose mother called him King David, Geffen moved to L.A. in the sixties and swiftly became a mover and shaker. By the time he met The Eagles, he was a kingmaker in the local rock scene. But as The Eagles themselves became kings, their relationship with Geffen soured, setting the stage for Geffen's protege, Irving Azoff, to swoop in and become their new manager. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Our special series on The Eagles continues with their post-"Hotel California" years, in which the band was more popular than ever, selling one million albums per month while also falling apart. There was tension between the band's twin leaders, Don Henley and Glenn Frey, who fought for control of The Eagles. But most of the ire was focused around Don Felder, the talented guitarist who wrote the music for the song "Hotel California." This carried over to the band's reunion years in the 1990s, when they were making more money than ever. Felder resented Henley and Frey for not giving him equal say in the band, creating tension that resulted in his firing in 2001. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Welcome to our epic three-part series on all of the beefs, feuds, and simmering resentments that occurred inside one of the most successful bands in history, The Eagles. In part one, we cover the band's early years, which included multiple battles inside the band and out. First, there was the feud with Glyn Johns, the super producer known for working with the best British bands of the era who resisted Glenn Frey's urge to rock. Then there was Bernie Leadon, the genius instrumentalist who couldn't help but pour a beer on Glenn's head. And then there's sweet Randy Meisner, who was driven out of The Eagles because he wasn't "alpha." As an added bonus, we also cover The Eagles vs. Rolling Stone softball game. Yeah, that actually happened! Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Back in the late 1980s, Dr. Dre and Eazy-E were members of N.W.A., one of the most important and iconic hip-hop groups ever. But in the wake of their historic 1988 album Straight Outta Compton, the two fell out over business disagreements. Once Dre went solo, he proceeded to rip Eazy apart on diss tracks prominently featured on his blockbuster LP The Chronic, forever fixing Eazy in the eyes of millions of pop fans as the clownish "Sleazy-E." A few years after that, however, Eazy tragically died at a young age, and Dre proceeded to recontextualize his relationship with Eazy, making it seem as though they never beefed bitterly at all. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an especially personal one for Steve — back when he was a Britpop-loving teen in the nineties, this was one of the first rock rivalries that he cared about. Which is odd, because in America, nobody really cared about Oasis vs. Blur the way people did in England, where they were the two biggest bands in the land. Blur were the knowing chroniclers of posh British society, and Oasis was the scrappy pub-rock band of the working class. While Blur was actually supportive of Oasis early on, Oasis looked at Blur as an impediment on their road to world domination, and proceeded to mercilessly bully them in public. In time, Oasis would come to massively overshadow Blur in terms of commercial success, though Blur's frontman Damon Albarn ultimately had a more lasting career outside of the band. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Before there was Megadeth, Dave Mustaine was the guitarist in a promising San Francisco thrash metal band called Metallica. And then he was fired for being an obnoxious drunk, a slight compounded by the fact that all the other members of Metallica were also obnoxious drunks. From then on, Mustaine was obsessed with getting his revenge, and he formed Megadeth with the purpose of dethroning Metallica from the top of the thrash metal heap. Alas, it proved difficult to compete with the most successful metal band in history. No matter what Mustaine did, he was destined for second place.  Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Two burgeoning musical geniuses came together in the mid-60s to form the Velvet Underground, a group that expanded the definition of what a rock band could be. Lou Reed’s literary ambitions led him to craft lyrics steeped in the gritty language of the streets, while John Cale called upon his background in the avant garde music scene of downtown Manhattan. Their unique talents coalesced on tracks like “Venus in Furs,” “Sister Ray,” and “Heroin,” groundbreaking songs that laid the groundwork for punk, art-rock, and many other genres to come. The Velvet Underground’s historical influence cannot be overstated, but their lack of commercial success led to heightened tensions in the group. Reed felt his dominance challenged by Cale’s musical virtuosity and forced him out of the band, which would never achieve the same level of musical daring. Their prolific solo careers in the ’70s and beyond bore traces of their ex-partner, as Reed sought to bolster his artistic credentials with noise experiments, while Cale developed his gift for melody and song craft. Ultimately, it was the unexpected death of their estranged one-time benefactor, Andy Warhol, that brought the pair back together to make peace with themselves, their troubled history, and their towering musical legacy. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the 1980s, the biggest rock band in the world was The Police. While all three members were blonde and good-looking, they were hardly a conventional success story. The Police was a supposed punk band composed of a prog-rock drummer, a jazzy bassist, and a guitarist who was pushing 40. But their unique chemistry (as well as Sting's trove of catchy pop songs) made them among the first acts to really break out during the MTV era. As they gained in popularity, however, they also grew to despise each other more and more, especially as Sting sought to take complete control of the band. As a result, they became the rare band to break up at the height of their popularity, though the members would remain frenemies for years afterward. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the mid-'90s, no two rock stars struck more fear into the hearts of parents than Trent Reznor and Marilyn Manson. These toxic twins started out having a teacher-student dynamic, with Reznor guiding Manson musically to stardom. But Manson's shock-rock antics soon overshadowed his mentor, who was hard at work for years trying to finish his masterwork "The Fragile." In time, Reznor would come to see Manson as a "dopey clown" while Manson seethed about Reznor literally losing the master recording to his early albums.  Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

For ‘80s babies, Britney and Christina represent the ultimate fan face-off. Originally friends and co-stars on The Mickey Mouse Club reboot in the early ‘90s, by the decade’s end they were pitted against one another in the press and in the charts. On the surface, the comparisons were obvious. They were two blonde, ex-Disney stars turned pop upstarts, barnstorming Billboard with suggestive ear-candy like “…Baby One More Time” and “Genie in a Bottle.” But a close listen to their discographies reveals a stark contrast between Britney’s bubble-gum electro-pop and Christina’s R&B leanings. As they grew older, their individual expressions of sexuality made them lightning rods for controversy. Soon they were forced into a troubling cultural dichotomy. The Southern-born Britney was portrayed in the media as the “Good Girl” who publicly renounced sex before marriage. The NYC-raised Christina Aguilera made no such proclamations. Her public “Bad Girl” reputation was enhanced by songs like “Dirrty” that celebrated her sexual agency. For a time, the cultural firestorm threatened to overshadow their massive talent. Now both are recognized as beloved entertainment icons. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

If you were an alienated teenager in the 1980s — or an alienated teenager during any era who loves the music of the 1980s — then you have probably spent a lot of time listening to The Smiths and The Cure. But the lead singers of those bands, Morrissey and Robert Smith, hated listening to each other. Starting with an interview in 1984 in which Morrisey expressed his desire to shoot Smith, the rivalry between these two mope-rock kings has been vicious and often extremely hilarious. When it comes to crafting insults about overly sensitive individuals, Don Rickles has nothing on these guys. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Our special two-part series on the battles between Van Halen and their two most famous singers concludes with this exploration of the Van Hagar years. Before he joined Van Halen, Sammy Hagar was a journeyman rock howler with a love of fast cars and mind-controlling aliens. In retrospect, most fans prefer the Roth years, but Hagar was at the head of four consecutive no. 1 albums for Van Halen in the late 1980s and early '90s. And he had a true friendship with Eddie Van Halen, until various factors — including the Twister soundtrack — conspired against them. But in their prime, Van Hagar sold millions of albums to listeners hungry for synth-heavy power ballads with excellent guitar solos. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In tribute to the late Eddie Van Halen, we’re devoting a pair of episodes to the two distinct eras of his namesake band. The first installment explores the guitar virtuoso’s relationship with the group’s original frontman, a karate kicking, spandex wearing, hyperactive rock ’n’ roll peacock named David Lee Roth. More a musical marriage of convenience than genuine friendship, the sparks between the pair both onstage and in the studio helped make Van Halen the biggest band in the world. But fame inflated their egos, and soon the bandmates were at each other’s throats. Diamond Dave loathed Eddie’s use of synthesizers on the album 1984. The global success of the record — and the pop crossover smash “Jump” — wasn’t enough to repair their creative rift, and Roth departed Van Halen in 1985 in pursuit of solo stardom and a film career. The band carried on without him, first enlisting Sammy Hagar and (briefly) Gary Cherone, before finally welcoming him back into the fold in 2007 for a series of reunion tours and a new album. Fans rejoiced, but the old tensions were never far from the surface. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the early '90s, no couple in rock was more notorious than Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love. The tabloid circus that followed them wearied Cobain's bandmates in Nirvana, and that tension only grew worse after Cobain's untimely death in 1994. For the next 20 years, Courtney and Nirvana's former drummer and current Foo Fighter, Dave Grohl, engaged in a war of words in songs and Howard Stern interviews. In the process, cultural institutions like Guitar Hero and The Muppets were dragged into the melee. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Marvin Gaye's 1971 masterpiece What's Going On was recently voted by Rolling Stone magazine the greatest album of all time. But one person who was not a fan of that record initially was the head of Gaye's label, Berry Gordy, the visionary founder of Motown. Gordy believed that alienating white audiences and deviating from a proven pop-R&B formula was commercial poison. But even before What's Going On, Gaye and Gordy were at odds, playing out a twisted father-son dynamic that Gaye instilled from his own deeply troubled childhood. Over time, Gaye and Gordy's professional squabbles would spill into their personal lives, as Gaye married (and acrimoniously divorced) Gordy's sister Anna. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Joy Division and New Order are two of the greatest and most important post-punk bands of all time, and at the center of those groups are two men: Bernard Sumner and Peter Hook. For years, they had a fruitful partnership: Sumner was the quiet and introspective one, and Hook was the gregarious rocker. But as the '80s unfolded, and New Order became one of the era's top indie pop groups, their relationship started to break down from clashes over the artistic direction of the band and their incompatible personalities. After 30 years, they finally split up, and the resulting acrimony remains heated to this day. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Eric Clapton had earned a reputation as “God” in the mid-‘60s for his virtousic guitar work in R&B-inspired British bands like the Yardbirds and John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers. Then an unknown American named Jimi Hendrix hit London in 1966 and changed the game entirely. Hendrix’s unparalleled playing and explosive style forged a new genre and redefined what it meant to be a guitarist — and sent the British boys back to the woodshed. Clapton’s status as London’s top axe-man had been challenged, but their rivalry was mostly a friendly one. Clapton was in awe of Hendrix’s talent and the pair bonded over music and mutual admiration. Hendrix’s tragic passing in 1970 left Clapton devastated. In the 50 years since, the reputations of both men have diverged. Hendrix has been sanctified in death and his immense talent seemingly magnified. Clapton, on the other hand, has been dinged for a series of questionable musical and personal decisions later in life. The question in this episode is not “Who’s the better guitarist?” but rather, “Is it better to burn out or fade away?” Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Whitney Houston ruled the pop world in the late '80s with a string of infectious hits that included seven consecutive number ones. But when Mariah Carey burst onto the scene at the start of the new decade, America's Sweetheart turned bitter and famously shaded the newcomer in a series of interviews. The vocal powerhouses spent much of the '90s duking it out on the charts, breaking records with their multi-octave ranges. Though they publicly buried the hatchet with a high profile duet, their relationship would forever be marked by competition. In addition to their supreme talent, both women were bonded by personal struggles that threatened to detail their musical careers. When Houston succumbed to her addictions in 2012, it was Carey who led the tributes to the fallen diva. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The final part of our epic trilogy exploring the rivalries within CSNY examines the arrival of Neil Young, whose introduction to the highly-combustible supergroup made the band all the more explosive. Initially hired by his ex-Buffalo Springfield rival Stephen Stills as a sideman for CSN’s live performances, Young earned a full partnership in the group. He ultimately became the most influential member through a mix of sheer talent and masterful passive aggressive manipulation. While CSN prioritized the collective, Young felt allegiance to no one but himself and used the band's immense popularity as a launching pad for his burgeoning solo career. His willingness to walk away at the slightest provocation forced the other three to cater to his whims, tipping the delicate balance of power in his direction. As the drawing power of CSNY became exponentially greater than CSN, the trio would be forced to make even greater concessions to the mercurial Young. CSNY would be done Neil’s way, or not at all — much to the chagrin of Stills.  Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Phil Spector: Murderer. Musical genius. His story is told from the perspective of those who knew him best, his famous so-called friends. Blood On The Tracks is part true crime, part historical fiction, part spoken word lo-fi beat noir brought to you by Jake Brennan, the host of the award winning music and true crime podcast, DISGRACELAND, featuring the fictionalized voices of Lenny Bruce, Ronnie Spector, Ike Turner, Debbie Harry and more. Just like Phil Spector, this podcast sounds like nothing you’ve heard before. Because you can’t push the needle into the red, without leaving a little blood on the tracks. Blood On The Tracks launches August 12, 2020 and will be released weekly on Wednesdays. This podcast is explicit and features adult content. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the second part of our special series on the rivalries within the greatest supergroup in rock history, CSNY, we look at the group's original musical leader, Stephen Stills. In the early days, he took the lead in the studio, writing many of the songs and playing most of the instruments on the band's iconic 1969 debut. But Stills' hold on CSN started to slip with the addition of Y — his old friend and nemesis from Buffalo Springfield, Neil Young. While Young could exert his power often by acting in a passive-aggressive way, Stills was driven to a series of impotent power grabs, before finally faltering from alcohol and drug abuse. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

There are so many rivalries within Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young that we're devoting a three-episode arc to parsing them all. In our first episode of this special series, we focus on David Crosby, the one member of CSNY who is currently on the outs with everybody else in the band. But that wasn't true in the beginning: Back in the 1960s, he was the king of L.A., the ultimate scenester who acted as a link between Stephen Stills and Graham Nash, paving the way for the most successful supergroup ever. However, personal tragedy and a raging ego would cause him to fall into an abyss of drug abuse in the '80s. Miraculously, he survived, but then he proceeded to alienate his bandmates by repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth in interviews. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Before the Gallaghers were even born, the Davies brothers were the quintessential Brit-Pop sibling rivalry, brawling backstage, onstage, and in the studio. Their creative tensions formed the crux of the Kinks, making them one of the most unique bands of the ’60s. Ray’s gift for observation and self-reflection allowed him to craft poetic social commentary couched in stately melodies. Extroverted Dave livened things up with raw proto-punk guitar and Carnaby Street flair, injecting the vibrant spirit of Swinging London into the group. Both men were crucial to the Kinks’ success, but Dave felt constantly undervalued by his elder sibling. Ray, meanwhile, struggled with the burden of being the band’s chief songwriter and grew resentful of his freewheeling brother. Their contrasting personalities ultimately tore the band apart, leading to a split in 1996. When the brothers announced a reunion in 2018, most fans couldn’t help but wonder: Was two decades enough to chill these guys out? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

At a time when most punk and new wave bands cranked their guitars and jacked up their song tempos, Talking Heads came out of NYC with a completely original and utterly funky sound. By the early '80s, they were one of the most popular and infectious bands on the planet. But inside the band, it was life during wartime, especially between lead singer David Byrne and the romantically linked rhythm section of Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth. Years after their acrimonious breakup, Chris and Tina would claim that David stole credit for songs and ideas. And yet ... they kept wanting to work with him. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the late '90s, The White Stripes came on the scene as a true anomaly: A post-modern blues-rock duo from the Midwest. A few years later, however, another blues-rock duo from the Midwest, the Black Keys, emerged and eventually became one of the most popular rock bands in America. After the White Stripes folded in the early 2010s, Jack White started speaking out about these upstarts, claiming in interviews (and leaked emails from his ex-wife) that he was being ripped off. But it is possible that there really is room for all these dudes to play good time rock 'n' roll? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the late '90s, a time of peace and prosperity for America, two of this country's biggest bands were Creed and Limp Bizkit. In retrospect, they seem like perfect signifiers for a decadent, bored nation on the verge of a major fall. But at the time, these groups ended up raging against each other, with their respective frontmen, Scott Stapp and Fred Durst, almost coming to blows over a misunderstanding at a music festival. What was it about these bands that so enchanted people once upon a time? And why did they come to hate each other? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Joan Baez was the undisputed queen of folk in the early ‘60s when she began sharing the stage with her new boyfriend, a Woody Guthrie-worshipping up-and-comer from Duluth who went by Bob Dylan. Thanks in no small part to Baez’s early support, Dylan quickly ascended to the height of fame and cultural influence. As his career eclipsed her own, Baez grew frustrated that he wasn’t as generous with the spotlight as she had been in his early days. Dylan, for his part, resented Baez’s pressure to use his platform for overt political statements and sought to distance himself from the “protest singer” movement she represented. Their romance ended by the mid-‘60s, but their time together would inspire some of their best late-era work. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

For much of the 2010s, Nicki Minaj was the most successful female rapper on the planet, selling more albums than any woman in hip-hop ever. But then a former exotic dancer, reality show star, and political science major named Cardi B exploded on the scene, stealing much of Minaj's thunder in the process. Nicki, of course, was not about to take this lying down, sparking a war of words that culminated with an infamous shoe-throwing incident. In the end, however, is this feud really about the sexism of an industry in which only one female MC is allowed to succeed at once? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the early '70s, Neil Young wrote two classic songs about the south — "Southern Man" and "Alabama" — that annoyed one of his biggest fans, Ronnie Van Zant of Lynyrd Skynyrd. So Ronnie co-wrote "Sweet Home Alabama," which became a hit song and a defining southern rock anthem. Among the song's fans was Neil Young, who formed a mutual appreciation society with Van Zant. So ... where's the rivalry? In this episode, we talk about how the larger culture seized upon the Neil Young vs. Lynyrd Skynyrd binary as part of a larger, ongoing culture war, simplifying what was otherwise a friendly, complex dynamic between two legendary artists. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

“Imma let you finish but…” When Kanye West crashed Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech at the 2009 MTV Video Music Awards, he ignited one of the most compelling and complex music rivalries ever. More than a decade later, their feud continues to captivate because it’s multi-faceted. It’s a discussion of an older man publicly disrespecting a talented younger woman — but it’s also a discussion of white privilege and how people of color are treated in the United States. Over the years their public personas have swung from victim to oppressor, idol to pariah. The beef explores the fickle nature of public tastes, the weaponization of social media, and the way “reality culture” impacts our actual reality. And it also examines some of the biggest hits of the 2010s. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

There's a long history of sibling rivalry infecting some of the biggest acts in pop and rock. But there is perhaps no greater example than the brothers Liam and Noel Gallagher of Oasis. From the time they broke out in the mid-'90s, these British bad boys have been at each other's throats. The core of their argument boils down to a simple philosophical disagreement about the value of art vs. rock 'n' roll chaos. Is Oasis all about the music or the mayhem? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

As co-founders of blink-182, Mark Hoppus and Tom DeLonge produced some of the most joyous and gleefully immature pop-punk of the ‘90s. But behind the rapid-fire riffs and plentiful dick jokes, creative tensions between the pair escalated. DeLonge’s desire to pursue a wide variety of musical and professional avenues led to lengthy hiatus in the mid ‘00s. A high profile reunion was going fine for a time, until DeLonge was again sidelined by other interests. Blink carried on without him as DeLonge performed intermittently with his new band, Angels & Airwaves, but the man who one sang “Aliens Exist” has devoted most of his energy to the study of UFOs. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Pink Floyd is one of the greatest and most successful bands of all time, and that is due mostly to the lyrics and ideas of Roger Waters and the guitar-playing and musical acumen of David Gilmour. Together, they guided the band through masterworks like "Dark Side Of The Moon" and "Wish You Were Here." But just as they achieved massive popularity, their partnership came undone by a destructive power struggle that ultimately sent Waters packing. He thought he was Pink Floyd by himself, but Gilmour later proved him wrong — or did he? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In 1994, Stephen Malkmus of Pavement wrote a snarky song called "'Range Life" in which he made a few snide remarks about one of the world's most popular alternative rock bands, Smashing Pumpkins. Little did he know that this song would spark a rivalry that would last for decades. Smashing Pumpkins leader Billy Corgan interpreted "Range Life" as yet another example of "elite" people looking down on him, a worldview that has curdled over time in strange and unexpected ways. In the end, Corgan's ire for Malkmus is a parable about how assuming the world is against you is a good way to turn the world against you. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the late 1990s, there were no bigger boy bands than the Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC. They might have ended up as rivals anyway given that they operated in the same lane of sweet ballads and synchronized dances. But the tension between was ratcheted up because they had the same "Big Poppa," the infamous impresario Lou Pearlman. Eventually, however, their sniping ceased once the groups realized they were both being ripped off. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Together, Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel formed one of the most popular and critically acclaimed duos in rock history, producing classic songs like "Mrs. Robinson" and "Bridge Over Troubled Water." But from the time they met as children, they were also competing with each other — for credit, for attention, and even for money. As the years went on, and they continued to reunite and then swiftly fall apart, their initial gripes never seemed to go away. Paul thought Artie never worked hard enough, and Artie thought Paul had a "Napoleon complex." In the end, their gentle music masked a lot of interpersonal aggression. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Guns N' Roses were the biggest rock band in the world by 1991 — but that didn’t mean they were impervious to criticism. Their double-barreled smash ‘Use Your Illusion’ featured the song “Get in the Ring,” in which the notoriously thin-skinned Axl Rose struck back against those he felt had wronged him in the press. The track is notable for its complete lack of ambiguity. He specifically names music journalists and challenges them to fight. But when they accept his challenge, Axl never shows. “Get in the Ring” crystalizes the dichotomy between the singer’s brawling bad boy reputation and his actual actions, and raises questions about how celebrities defend themselves against critics. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Slim Shady enjoys a well-deserved reputation as one of the all time greatest rappers, but in 2015 Machine Gun Kelly made a play for his “Blonde MC from the Midwest” crown — and hit on his teenage daughter in the process. Subliminal lyric disses sparked a nuclear response from Em, resulting in a war of words in songs and interviews that has continued sporadically ever since. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

It’s the second part of our series about the power struggles inside the greatest rock band ever! Within the Beatles, the unquestioned power couple was John Lennon and Paul McCartney. But in the band’s later years, George Harrison emerged as a major creative force, writing hit songs like “Something” and “Here Comes The Sun.” And yet he struggled to gain respect from his two big brothers in the Fab Four, even after the band broke up. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

It’s our two-episode arc on the intra-band beefs that occurred inside the greatest rock band of all time! In this episode, we look at the partnership at the heart of the Beatles between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. After they bonded as boys in Liverpool over shared childhood tragedy and common artistic ambitions, their friendship slowly frayed as the Beatles grew more and more popular. John was the adventurous wit and Paul was the canny romantic — or at least that’s what the archetypes are. But in reality, their difficult dynamic is far more complicated. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The almost oppressive ubiquity of Imagine Dragons’ songs like “Radioactive” and “Thunder” made the band an easy target for criticism, even from fellow musicians. In 2017, The 1975 lead singer Matty Healy accused Dan Reynolds and Co. of singing songs about “nothingness” and not taking advantage of their global platform to enact positive change. Reynolds, a tireless advocate for the LGBTQ community, took offense and slammed Healy for adding to the negativity prevalent in the music industry. This episode of Rivals examines their feud and explores why one band became an object of ridicule and the other a critical favorite — despite the fact that they’re more similar than they are different. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the wake of the 9/11 attacks, country superstar Toby Keith released “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American).” Some embraced the song as the perfect rallying cry for an angry and traumatized nation. Others felt it was a crude, hateful, jingoistic anthem about putting your boot in someone’s ass. Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks fell squarely in the latter camp, and denounced the hit tune in interviews. Months later, when the Dixie Chicks were blacklisted from the country music community following their onstage criticism of President Bush and the invasion of Iraq, Keith was quick to peg the band as unpatriotic traitors. Though they eventually buried the hatchet with Keith, the Dixie Chicks remain exiled from the country scene and their once-thriving career has never recovered. Their feud gets to the complicated truth of what happens when an artist publicly takes a political stance.  Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Before they started their own successful bands, Jeff Tweedy and Jay Farrar were boyhood friends who formed a group called Uncle Tupelo in the 1980s. Uncle Tupelo wasn't all that famous or successful in their time, but historically they would prove hugely influential on a generation of alt-country acts. Farrar was the creatively dominant force in that band, but Tweedy quickly came into his own, which created tension that eventually boiled over. Even after the success of Tweedy's band Wilco and Farrar's band Son Volt, fans continue to debate over who was in the right. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

At the heart of the Beach Boys, one of America's biggest bands ever, are two men: Brian Wilson and Mike Love. Brian is the songwriter and resident genius, and Mike is the cocksure frontman. For most of the 1960s, their partnership worked as the Beach Boys scored dozens of hits. But a conflict over the magnum opus "Pet Sounds" revealed that Brian was out to pursue high art at all costs, while Mike prefered to stick with "the formula." For the next 50 years, this battle has raged over what truly constitutes the "real" Beach Boys. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

At the height of Nirvana’s success in the early ‘90s, Kurt Cobain slammed fellow Seattle grunge gods Pearl Jam in the press, labeling them bandwagon-jumping “corporate puppets” who aped his band’s style in the vapid pursuit of fame. Eddie Vedder, a great admirer of Kurt’s, never retaliated publicly, but their relationship grew strained as Pearl Jam’s popularity eclipsed Nirvana’s. Before the two could settle their differences, Cobain took his own life — leaving Eddie to simultaneously mourn the loss of his hero and make sense of their complex, adversarial bond. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

When The Band first emerged in the late 1960s, they epitomized the era's hippie, back-to-the-land ethos. Every member was considered equal, and they played with an uncommon power and sensitivity as a leader-less ensemble on classics like "The Weight" and "Up On Cripple Creek." But as time wore on, and The Band got more successful, cracks in this foundation were caused by inequitable money distribution and petty arguments over attention. The central conflict was between Robbie Robertson, the guitarist and songwriter, and Levon Helm, the lead singer and soul of the group. After they broke up in 1976 with "The Last Waltz" concert, their spat became public, turning one of rock's greatest fairy tales into a sad cautionary tale about how commerce can really screw up art. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Though he’d achieved complete commercial domination with Thriller, the King of Pop spent much of the ‘80s looking over his shoulder at the Prince of Paisley Park. As far as MJ was concerned, the musical landscape was big enough for only one eccentric, androgynous, Midwest-raised genre-bending star with killer dance moves and a propensity for Xanadu-like private compounds. He even crafted “Bad” as a duet to serve as their on-mic showdown, but the Purple One turned him down. Over the years they duked it out in the charts, onstage, and even on the Ping-Pong table. The rivalry pushed them towards artistic greatness, but despite a begrudging mutual respect, the pair would never be simpatico. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Elton and Billy’s parallel careers intersected with a long-running duets tour, but things went south after Billy abruptly backed out in 2010. Elton publicly blamed Billy’s alcoholism and criticized his lack of recent musical output. An irate Billy fired back by saying Elton’s latest albums were lackluster and dragged down his legacy. The public sniping ultimately died down but their feud highlighted the two paths available to Artists of a Certain Age: fall back on past glories or valiantly press on at the risk of artistic misfires. In other words, is it better to burn out or fade away? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The two pop queens started off as friends, sharing sweet birthday tweets and cat photos. Things got a little weird when they shared a man — John Mayer — but a case of pilfered backing dancers in 2014 made them, in Taylor’s words, “straight-up enemies.” Taylor threw the first punch by alluding to Perry’s misdeeds in a highly publicized interview. Then she dropped the track “Bad Blood” and its big budget Superhero Mean Girls video. The war of words continued in songs, social media and the press for years until the two hugged it out in Taylor’s 2019 video for “You Need to Calm Down.” A truce was declared but, to quote Katy, is it ever really over? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Stevie and Lindsey started as bandmates and bedmates before their love curdled into the toxic-yet-kinky antipathy that inspired Fleetwood Mac’s 1977 classic Rumors. This episode of Rivals unpacks the storied love triangle (or is it a love quadrilateral?) within the band’s ranks, and the searing resentment that spurred the pair to create some of the greatest songs/hate-sex anthems in rock. After Stevie ousted Lindsey from Fleetwood Mac in 2018, it seemed like these two might go their own way for good — but can they really stay apart? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Starting February 26th, join Steven Hyden and Jordan Runtagh as they explore the most notorious feuds in the music business. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.