Prince: Track by Track is a close-listening music show with a simple promise: take the songs one by one and give each of them real attention. The recent Trout Mask Replica run stretches that approach across Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band’s 1969 double album. It is patient work. Joel Bakker, guest hosting for Darren Husted, opens episodes with plain track information, recording context, personnel, and a guest, then lets the conversation widen from there. The result feels less like a lecture than a listening session between people who have been puzzled and pulled back by the same record. The album is treated as difficult, but not as a dare. It is also treated as funny, severe, physical, rehearsed, accidental-sounding, and strangely moving. Guests return to the question of why this music, often shocking on first contact, becomes more fascinating with repeated listens. Some episodes focus on arrangement and performance. Others lean into lyrics, ecological anxiety, sexuality, band tension, or Don Van Vliet’s voice and saxophone. The show has room for technical detail without becoming sealed off from feeling. A passage about a repeated groove can turn into an argument for how a first listener might finally find a foothold. A discussion of a short track can become a meditation on movement through a damaged landscape. The conversations also keep acknowledging the human labor behind the record: rehearsals, memorized parts, frustration, instruction, production, and the musicians who made the impossible sound almost inevitable. It is warm, sometimes dry, and rarely hurried. The appeal is cumulative. By the end of an episode, a song that seemed like a strange object has usually become a small world with history, pressure, jokes, and emotional weather inside it. For a discovery platform, the show stands out because it does not merely recommend music; it models the process of learning how to hear it.