#i love when we get to discuss Billy's radio career

[wolfsbanesparks]

Billy Batson as a radio host is an amazing voice actor and uses this talent in the most hilarious and evil way possible

For example-

Highjacking buildings intercom system and telling villains inside in the most happy and chipper commercial announcer voice that if you're an individual that values their appendages please kept your hands and feet to yourself and may your God have mercy on your soul because the 3000 year old cures your about to experience sure as hell WILL NOT

And you know he's going to have a field day with scam calls

I love this so much!

He can say the most wild and terrifying things in that perfectly measured newscaster voice that has people doing a double take if they aren't listening carefully. His cheerful warnings would terrify people (particularly the villains unlucky enough to hear it twice).

Like he is generally responsible and usually uses his talents for good, but sometimes a situation presents itself...

And like once he's a relatively well known radio host, his voice becomes recognizable to the people in Fawcett and him using his voice acting talents takes on a whole new surreal experience for whoever he's messing with because suddenly that friendly boy reporter from the radio is threatening you with ancient curses and violence with the same cadence as when he was told the story of saving a cat from a tree.

[omegalomania]

I think tumblr ate my ask or it just didn't sent but what are your favorite Bastille songs / what are some songs you recommend?

i did NOT get this ask im very sorry anon.

it's genuinely hard for me to narrow down cause bastille is pretty up there in terms of favorite artists. i love all their shit, but a special mention goes out to their second studio album wild world since it's the one that made me a Fan

uh so here's a primer i guess i spent too much time on this lmao.

if you wanna listen to their big hits:

flaws - their first single in the uk. if you ever listened to ship playlists on 8tracks in like 2013-2015 then you've probably heard this song or a variant on it at some point.

pompeii - this is the song that really put them on the map and you definitely know it. it dominated the charts all over the place.

happier - the marshmello song that you've definitely heard before too. i think bastille wrote this for justin bieber or some shit but then decided they liked it too much to give it to him? lmao. anyway if you're not digging the version you hear on the radio all the time i recommend trying the stripped down version

good grief - their big hit off their second album. big in the uk, didn't really make as many waves elsewhere, but it's a really solid song anyway. one of those "upbeat tunes that's actually really fucking sad" ones

things we lost in the fire - another one off their first album. if you live in a wildfire area this might not be one to turn to. or maybe you'll find it cathartic idk i certainly do!!

quarter past midnight - a song about escapism, as was fitting when it was released in 2018 and equally fitting now. running away for a night of fucking around with friends, craving any kind of brief departure from the chaos of the modern world

skulls - this one was not a hit or a single and is technically a bonus track but i'm including it because once again if you ever clicked on a ship playlist on 8tracks in like 2013-2015 you've heard this one. and you know what that was justified this one is also good

if you wanna feel existentially depressed:

their whole discography. i mean i kid but i also don't. that's just kind of how bastille does it. BUT IN ALL SERIOUSNESS ones that hit me in particular would beeee

two evils - kind of a grim, haunting one introspecting about morality of the self.

oblivion - musing about the afterlife, love, and how time changes all of us.

those nights - contemplating what it is we seek when we plunge into reckless escapism, and the inherent loneliness of it; how even when surrounded by people there's still the pressure of the world outside, continuously coming to pieces

the draw - this one was written about the pull of pursuing a career in music vs. staying home with family and friends. in a broader sense, it can apply to a lot of things. i always felt it resonated with feelings of paranoia and displacement

winter of our youth - discusses childhood, nostalgia, and regret. if it feels like everything's slipping away, is it easier to relive the past, especially if the past is tinted rose?

sleepsong - loneliness, desperation, and the cyclical, abyss-like nature of all it encapsulates

if you want discussion of serious topics:

final hour - a bonus track off their second album that also became a bonus track off their third album? anyway this song talks about climate change and gun control. happy stuff

doom days - this one talks about, uh, everything! doomscrolling, political divides, escalating national tensions, climate change again, etc.

the currents - a song centered on political rhetoric and the power that figureheads have over the masses, the way they can orchestrate hate. basically it's not so subtly aimed at donald trump lmao, dan's literally sung it as much in a few live settings

WHAT YOU GONNA DO??? - social media addiction and the way capitalism and corporate interests have annexed our online experiences, fighting desperately for our attention as they seek to monetize every available aspect of our lives

four walls (the ballad of perry smith) - well this one is about uh. perry smith. who was charged with the death penalty for killing 4 people in the late 50's. but it's less directly about him and more a discussion of the morality of the death penalty and capital punishment

snakes - burgeoning anxieties and the impulse to turn to easy outs, like ignorance or alcoholism, to escape the world's global problems

if you want some pop culture sprinkled on top:

icarus - greek mythology. i like this one because it addresses something that i feel isn't addressed enough in discussions of this myth, which is that icarus is a very young lad. less about the pride of the fall, and more about the inherent tragedy of that.

laura palmer - the whole song is a david lynch shoutout. i've never seen twin peaks myself but the song still slaps.

daniel in the den - christian mythology. discusses the biblical tale of daniel in the lion's den and links that up to themes of betrayal and family.

poet - this one's a double feature, referencing both william shakespeare's sonnet 18 and edmund spencer's sonnet 75. also one of my favorites.

send them off! - this is another one of my favorites of theirs. it's also been described by dan as "othello meets the exorcist" and it very much delivers there

if you want something uplifting:

joy - while bastille (understandably) has a bit of reputation as a band that makes sad music about sad things, they've definitely got some happier songs in their catalogue. pun intended cha ching. this one's one of their more straightforwardly happy tunes

survivin' - this was a song they wrote while they were touring and then felt weird about releasing once the panini hit because it felt a bit on the nose. they ended up releasing it anyway and i am so glad they did cause it's a mood

act of kindness - the "happy" part here is debatable but i'm gonna include it anyway. it’s when someone does something nice for you and that impulse Changes you way down deep you know???

warmth - one of those "the world's going to shit but at least we have each other" kinds of tunes

the anchor - one of those "the world's going to shit but you're the one fucking thing that's still keeping me here" kinds of tunes

give me the future - their latest single as of this writing and one of the more optimistic tracks in their catalogue imo! it's yearning, but it's also with a genuine hope for the future.

and LASTLY. because im going to take every chance i can to plug this band. im going to throw some collabs and covers at you because there's one thing this band does SUPER well and it's collabs and covers.

of the night - this is the big one. it mashes up rhythm of the night by corona and rhythm is a dancer by SNAP! and it's so good they still do this one live and it goes off every time.

no angels - a mashup of "no scrubs" by TLC and "angels" by the xx, poured into a strangely mournful tune with clips from the hitchcock movie psycho. doesn't sound like it should work but it does. kinda really does.

torn apart - with GRADES and lizzo no less!!! it's got two parts but they're both excellent listen to them both

weapon - collab with angel haze, dan priddy, and F*U*G*Z and one of my absolute favorites

remains - remix of their song "skulls" but featuring rag'n'bone man and skunk anansie that adds an entire new dimension to the song, really fucking excellent

old town road mashup - lil nas x's old town road meets lizzo's good as hell meets radiohead's talk show host meets talking heads' road to nowhere meets the osmond's crazy horse. "what the fuck that shouldn't work" i KNOW and yet here it is!! BLATANTLY BANGING!!!

we can't stop - one of the few times dan smith subtly changes the lyrics of the song he's covering (most of the time he opts to keep the original pronouns and the like, which is very nice to see). anyway this one mixes miley cyrus's we can't stop with eminem's lose yourself and billy ray cyrus's achy breaky heart. and also the lion king's i just can't wait to be king is there. yes i know it sounds batshit especially because the whole thing is surprisingly melodic and heartfelt and you know what it works.

anyone but me x nightmares - mashing up joy crookes' anyone but me with easy life's nightmares and absolutely one of my favorites.

bad guy mashup - how many songs can they include with the word "bad" in the title? we've got bad guy (billie eilish), bad decisions (bastille), bad romance (lady gaga), and bad blood (taylor swift). bastille even has a song called bad blood and they didnt use it. they used taylor swift's version. also the distinctive guitar riff from dick dale's misirlou is there.

somebody mashup - how many songs can they include with the word "some" in the title? someone like you (adele), somebody told me (the killers), somebody to love (queen), use somebody (kings of leon), and someone you loved (lewis capaldi). seriously these guys take mashups to a new level.

final song - this is a cover of MØ's final song. it also adds in craig david's 7 days and, impossibly enough, europe's final countdown. how does it work. how.

ALL RIGHT. THATS ALL IVE GOT IN ME. HOPE THIS HELPED ANON AND IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH

[shes-coming-clean]

Green Day Documentary Reviews Pt 2

The last one of these seemed to make people happy, and because my brain refuses to think about anything but this band right now, might as well do something productive with that. So here is part 2!

Today’s doc: Green Day: Born To Be (2016)

I decided to get this one over with because I didn’t remember liking it the first time, and wow, it’s even worse than I remember. So this review is going to be a lot more negative overall because oof this one pisses me off. Honestly, one of its strongest qualities is that its only 24 minutes, so at least you don’t have to suffer too long.

Pros

* It focuses on their lives from childhood up through American Idiot and includes a decent amount of detail.

* They don’t have any present day interviews recorded specifically for this documentary, which means they have to get really creative piecing old interviews together to tell a coherent story. And they do that well...about half the time (more on that later)

* There are Portuguese subtitles so that’s nice. We love accessibility in this house

* There is a mention of Two Dollar Bill! Love to see it. Unfortunately, they get the nickname wrong and call him Two Dollar Billie (How do you miss the play on words there?) but still, it’s a nice detail to include

* They actually discuss Billie and Mike’s childhoods in some detail. Tré does not get the same treatment but A for effort - 2 out of 3 aint bad.

And that’s it for pros. On to the cons. We’ll focus on the nitpicky stuff first

* This video only has audio in one ear if you’re using headphones, which is kinda unusual for this channel, so I wonder if there was some kind of mistake uploading it.

* They only seem to have footage from the Dookie era and onward so when they talk about stuff before that, they either use a mix of a couple of old photos of the band, generic stock footage, or more modern video clips. I understand that you have to work with what you have, but this is kind of distracting when you’re hearing the narrator talk about their informal audition for Lookout Records, but you’re hearing and seeing the Good Riddance music video. Like, I’d give it a pass if the song at least commented on or shared an emotion with that part of the story but it just feels random. They really don’t seem to have put too much thought into when they use certain clips, so the performances on screen aren’t always from the time period they’re taking about - even later on in the story. This, and the lack of a clear structure can make it hard to tell what year/era they’re talking about at any given moment.

* They have to rely on past interviews to do a lot of the story telling, but once again, they don’t always care too much about time period and will clip sections out of context. For example, they take a clip of Billie from roughly ‘95 talking about how the last few years have been crazy, and make it about their career downturn in the early 2000s, even though you can CLEARLY see he’s younger than in the other clips.

* There is a narrator who fills in the parts of the story not conveyed in clips which is a good choice...except that he’s really annoying. I can’t tell if it’s his voice or the script he’s been given, but either way, it’s not great.

* The narrator says that all three band members divorced or separated from their wives in the late 90s/early 2000s, except...that didn’t happen. Billie and Adrienne had a rough point, sure, but they didn’t separate or divorce.

So far, most of my critiques have not been massive. I still probably could’ve enjoyed a doc at least a bit even if it had those problems, a lot of which seem to be due to a lack of resources and having to make do with what they had. I can understand that. The same does not hold true for this next part, which is, how they framed the band’s jump to a major label and the years that followed.

Every band, actor, or public figure of any kind will usually have some kind of signature question or complaint that everyone either levies against them or debates. Green Day’s is basically “are they real punks or are they sellouts?” At this point, I think this question is pretty stupid and I have a lot of problems with the mindset behind it (I think it has a lot to do with classism and sexism, but that’s for another time), but it’s part of the band’s public persona at this point, so any documentary has to at least touch on it. Most docs tend to frame the backlash against the band after they sighed with Reprise as the petty complaints of jealous gatekeepers who were pissed that the band was inviting normies into their punk club. Basically, there was nothing Green Day could’ve done about it - it was going to happen either way.

But this doc takes it for granted that Green Day absolutely sold out, and not just that, they fundamentally changed and stopped being punk. Which, like, are we listening to the same album? The only real difference between Kerplunk (released before they signed with a major label) and Dookie (their major label debut) is that the second had an actual budget. The sound and subject matter is very very similar. They were never super “hard core” to begin with - in fact, it was their catchy melodies that made them stand out. Nothing in their style changed. Honestly, I would argue that Dookie has a lot more songs about being angry and punk than Kerplunk does. The only difference is its higher production quality. So, when this doc says things like they “lost their hard fought identity” I honestly don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. And this isn’t just me being a fan. The doc says they changed, it says they stopped being punk, but it doesn’t offer any evidence to substantiate that claim. We’re just supposed to hear the ominous music and the out-of-context clips (which were mostly self-deprecating jokes) and believe it.

When they do provide details, most of them are wrong, or at very least, misleading. For example, they claim that the backlash only happened after the band released the second and third singles off of Dookie, “Basket Case” and “When I Come Around” respectively. It claims that the first single, “Longview” was punk enough to make fans happy while the other songs weren’t, which...ok - I just don’t think you can claim “Longview” is any more punk than the other songs. Honestly, it’s kind of a departure from their normal sound into a more jazzy style. I don’t think you can argue that it��s any more punk than “Basket Case” unless you’re claiming that singing about masturbation makes something inherently punk. Like, what are we even defining as “punk” at this point? Also, the backlash started long LONG before any song off the album had ever been released. It started as soon as they signed with Reprise, so claiming it was because people didn’t like the music is just dishonest.

Overall, I really feel like this doc has a very strange tone, especially for a piece of media supposedly promoting their newest album (Revolution Radio). It pays lip service to how great and accomplished the band is, but takes every opportunity to trash them. Because it goes so hard on the “they sold out” narrative, it implies that the success of American Idiot is just because they got lucky that people liked the product of their lack of artistic integrity. I am more than ok with criticizing a band - even one I like, and I don’t mind when a doc does try to do more than just praise Green Day, but those criticisms have to be backed up. And the whole question of “selling out” is just so so stupid at this point. This doc came out in 2016 - was the most pressing issue that year really whether or not a band stopped being punk 25 years ago? 

So, thanks for coming to my ted talk. I hope you liked it and if there’s any other Green Day docs you want me to review next, please let me know. These have been a lot of fun to write and I’m so happy that people seem to like it.

[gayenerd]

The Band You Love To Hate By Tom Lanham of RIP  (There’s no date on this but I would say 1995 or 1996?)

Eyes wide as a barn owl's. Spines stiff with anticipation, like a hungry scorpion. The two teenage girls sit stock-still in their booth at a posh Berkeley diner, practically bursting with excitement, but without the faintest clue how to handles it. Clueless, you might call them. A few feet across the linoleum aisle--with his back to them, oblivious to all the oh-my-gawd facial expressions--sits the object of their adulation, dressed in unassuming black jeans, black T-shirt, shredded black Converse, and a beat-up black baseball jacket. But even with his once-green dreadlocks tamed to a short black business cut, Billie Joe Armstrong--yes, the snaggle-toothed MTV ragamuffin from megaplatinum neo-punkers, Green Day--is as easy to spot as Michael Bolton at a Rogaine convention. Although the kids want to leap up from their seats and race over for an autograph or a jittery hello, they don't dare. Instead, they're forced to deal with their seething emotions as if they were eating post-tonsillectomy ice cream: a lot of numb gulping and a quick pain chaser. This is the blessing of being Billie Joe Armstrong. Alas, it's also his curse. By the time you read this, the irascible little rocker will have turned 24. And exactly two years ago, he and his wacky bandmates--drummer Tré Cool and bassist Mike Dirnt--lolled around the trashy basement flat they shared, getting stoned and sneering at the idea that Dookie--their just-released "sellout" on big-time Reprise--would ever amount to more than a nice drink coaster. Fame? They were more preoccupied with their bong collection, stacks of rock 'n' roll bubblegum cards, and a thriving sea monkey tank displayed prominently on a window-sill. Most of their furniture had springs poking through--they didn't care. Armstrong regularly picked boogers from his gold-ringed nostril and then flick them onto the scary shag carpet--what did he have to worry about? Too bad he couldn't have foreseen the all-too-near future. Green Day happened to be in the right place at the right time. The three-chord slam-a-rama Dookie--a pop-edged return to decade-old punk ethics--became the surprise hit of '94, going on to sell over 11 million copies. Armstrong, accustomed to frenetic club performances, began translating the group's infectious energy to larger and larger venues. Demand continued to grow at a staggering pace; Green Day fought back. They turned a satellite MTV Video Awards performance into a "spit-cam" fest by urging the crowd to gob any camera lens it could ("[The cameramen] tried to make it look like it was cool, but it wasn't"). Last October, Armstrong and company issued their 32-minute follow up, Insomniac, almost as an afterthought, with little promotion, a visually offensive video (for "Geek Stink Breath") and--at least initially--a strict no-interview policy. Simultaneously, they ditched their high-powered Cahn-Man management team and are now virtually managing themselves. Along the way, Armstrong married his long-time sweetheart Adrienne and last March fathered a son, Joey. In typical down-to-earth fashion, the couple spent their honeymoon a few blocks from home at Berkeley's prestigious Claremont Hotel, not on some exotic island. Beginning to see the problem here? How does a street-smart kid from humble beginnings skyrocket to world-class notoriety and yet--with his music in millions of homes and his privacy suddenly a right that needs defending--still adhere to the simple ideals, the simple lifestyle that spawned him? Is "successful punk" an oxymoron? Insomniac provided few clues--it was more of the same slacker-ennui sentiment, more defeated, disenfranchised grousing set to speedy, memorable hooks. Or, as Armstrong barks in the aptly-dubbed "Walking Contradiction," "My wallet's fat and so is my head...I'm a victim of a Catch-22." And that, in essence, was the topic this tortured artist wanted to discuss at the diner. The old "be careful what you wish for" adage. The classic "problem with success is finding someone to enjoy it with you" truism. Armstrong, who takes occasional sips from a vanilla milkshake, but mostly stares morosely at the floor, seems to be dealing with superstardom in a relatively normal way. Don't be fooled by the steady stream of negative vitriol that follows; he's analyzing it, breaking it down, figuring out ways to disconnect his kinetic career. Or at least turn down the volume for awhile. 

RIP: We know what's going right. But what's going wrong? 

BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG: Lots of things, really. Actually, when I came here today, I said I didn't wanna talk about anything good, because I don't really have anything good to talk about. Goin' on tour pretty soon--don't really wanna go. Just because I've been kinda torn. I wanna stick around at home. I don't like playing arenas, and I realized I didn't know what I was getting myself into on the last tour, but I went into it being positive and getting excited about it. But I didn't realize that I was the kind of person to whom it's too much of an event and not really a personal thing anymore. And I started to realize how much I liked being the background music to this scene at the club. And now it's.... I dunno. People expect so much. It's cool and stuff, and it can be a lot of fun, a really good experience. But when you play that many arenas.... The first time we ever played those big kinds of shows at the Shoreline (Amphitheater in Mountain View, California), there was weirdness--we were playing for a lot of f?!kin' people. And I hate to say it, but sometimes it just feels like another gig. We played every day, 50 gigs this last leg, and it just wears on ya. There's all these people, and they think "Alright. I paid my $15--you better impress the f?!kin' shit outta me right now!" And I realized that for Joey, the rock and roll touring life is not a good atmosphere for a kid. I tried to make it to where it would be, bringing lots of his toys out. But there are no familiar surroundings for him. And he likes all the attention--people come up and say hello to him every day, people who are on tour with us. But he doesn't have his own room or a home to go to every day. So, no more touring for Joey. 

RIP: Turned on Regis and Kathie Lee this morning to find their gossip columnist dishing dirt on Green Day. How Insomniac didn't do nearly as well as predicted, how it was a disappointment to the label. A failure, supposedly. 

BJA: Well, it's like, we didn't set up this record. We didn't. We didn't do any promotion beforehand, we completely quit doing interviews, and basically we just wanted to go on into it. We weren't even sure if we wanted to do a video. And then when we did a video, it got yanked from daytime rotation because people were getting grossed-out by it. So I think we did alienate a lot of people. So that was expected, that it wasn't going to sell a lot of records. 

RIP: NOFX have taken it one step further. They refuse to talk to press, make videos, pander potential singles to radio. They don't want to get any bigger. 

BJA: I dunno, maybe I'm just getting jaded or something. But I just got cable again and I can't stand anything. Six years ago you could hear something that was different and know that it was different. So it'd be "alternative" or whatever. But now it's like you get this Joan...Osborne? With the ring in her nose, waving the alternative rock flag, when she's just...not, ya know? And I'm thinking, I hate all this music that's coming out now--the past year was just hell for music. But people are buying it, so then I'm thinking, Maybe they're the ones that are good and I'm the one who sucks? I just don't know if I really wanna be involved in the rock world anymore at all. Period. I don't necessarily have anything against a big record company or people who what to join up with a big record company. It really is right for some people, but more and more, I don't think that I'm really meant to. And I hate to sound like that, because I don't like taking things for granted. I don't like to talk about my problems when there's some kid struggling in his garage somewhere saying "F?!k him! He's just taking it for granted. Shit, I wish I could do something like that, but I'm just stuck here in Biloxi, Mississippi, and I can't even get a gig." I'm so confused right now. 

RIP: It must be odd to know that, with all those millions of albums sold, drunken frat boys are probably staggering around to your music right now. Your audience grew far beyond your control. 

BJA: Oh, totally! We became what we hated. Which is, the people I despised in high school--and now--are buying our records. We initially became a trend, so there was no way I expected to sell as many records with Insomniac as with Dookie. That's one of the biggest-selling records of the decade. We get slagged by the punk rockers, and it's like, I don't blame them. If you draw that much attention to yourself, that's what you're gonna get--attention--and it's not personal anymore. 

RIP: Ever think about giving it all up? 

BJA: There isn't a day goes by in the past year and a half that I haven't thought about quitting. I went to this party on New Year's Eve, and this band Juke, and another band, the Tantrums, played in a friend of mine's backyard. And a lot of my old friends showed up, and everybody was just dancing. And I was dancing, and getting really muddy, and I was having a great time. I can't remember the last time I sat down and listened to a record from beginning to end and felt this incredible spine-chilling music. And it's because I haven't been able to go out and watch bands play at my free will. I'm not gonna live in a closet, I'm not gonna vegetate myself. 

RIP: But it has to be difficult, when tons of kids know your face. You're on your way to Michael Jackson-dom, where you have to wear a disguise in public. 

BJA: If you think about the Beatles, at that time all people had to go by were the photographs on the records and every now and then a television appearance. So when they'd come to town, people would just flip out--it became this huge public event every single time. Whereas now, everything is so saturated kids don't even have to leave their home to go to a show anymore. They can sit in the comfort of their living room, and your favorite rock star is gonna be entertaining you while you sit down and have your microwave burrito. 

RIP: The Milwaukee cops weren't pleased with aspects of Green Day's Milwaukee show last November. Why were you arrested? 

BJA: I dropped the pick and--actually, I even forgot about it--I just mooned the crowd, which is pretty harmless compared to what I've done before. And I wasn't even thinking about it--I just went out and started playing again. Then I went backstage and was hanging out with Adrienne, and this guy Jimmy who does security for us goes "Come on--there's a car waiting for you outside right now. You've gotta get out of here!" I said "What's wrong?" and he said he didn't even know. So we get in the car and all of a sudden about ten cops come walking over, fully surrounding the car. So the guy puts the cuffs on me, throws me in the car, and I get tossed in the holding tank for two, three hours. I wasn't in the bullpen--I was in with the other ones, the not-so-bad ones. They made me take all my jewelry out. And my shoestrings, so I wouldn't hang myself or something. I dunno. I just don't know how to fit into rock music anymore. I don't know what I like about it anymore. I don't like anything about it anymore, to tell you the truth. To tell you the real truth, I'm a pretty miserable person right now. I'm totally depressed, and my wife can vouch for that because she's around me. In fact, she's the only person who's really around me. I dunno, the whole thing with the mainstreaming of punk rock. I just feel lost in the whole thing...I don't really know...I don't wanna...I dunno...It's miserable, it really is. It's f?!ked up. 

RIP: For every original voice that comes along, there will be countless mad signing dashes for any and all sound-alike artists, with no thought given to the artist's longevity. Just throw the record out quickly and hope it sticks. 

BJA: The thing is, a lot of musicians have gotten so comfortable with this big so-called "Revolution in Rock Music" over the past decade. First it was like, "F?!k the corporations! F?!k the corporations!" And then people just sorta got cozy with that, and forgot that these bands are getting lost in the shuffle. And I'm talking about the ones that never get noticed at all and just get kinda bitter. The 15 minutes of fame is getting shorter and shorter. And now music is totally going backwards--the first half of this decade, there were a few things going on that were interesting. It wasn't my favorite kind of music, but it had a sensibility about it. If you think about Nirvana and Pearl Jam and that whole Seattle scene, and even the Offspring--there was this thing going on that was more honest, in a lot of ways. It wasn't like, beer, drugs and pussy, like what went on through the '80s with all the hair bands. But now what we've got is Hootie & the Blowfish.... 

RIP: Who are probably a lot like you. They seem like nice, regular guys who--through no real fault of their own--are suddenly assimilated into pop culture. 

BJA: Yeah, but that's the problem, is that they are nice regular guys. And they're totally comfortable with that, and they sort of put that out, to where they don't really have...I dunno, there's a certain amount of attitude that, say, someone like Cobain or Vedder has that they don't have. But it's becoming way not...real anymore or something. Maybe not real to me. It's just turning back into what it was in the '80s. It's like, "Hey, everyone! We're Huey Lewis and the News!" I dunno. Maybe nobody knows what the f?!k I'm talking about anymore. 

BJA: I get so irritated by people. I think I'm more bitter than I've ever been in my whole life, to tell you the honest truth. I think Insomniac is much more of a bitter record than Dookie. And I think the older people get, the more they kinda get angry. I think a lot of people feel like they get cheated by lief somehow--no-one is ever completely satisfied. There's maybe a few. But I mean, I'm in a place where I don't really wanna be. It's like, sometimes I feel like we're losing our passion for playing music. And that's the f?!ked-up thing, when you lose passion for what you love, then it's like, Is this marriage headed for divorce or what? 

RIP: Theoretically, you can fight back a couple of ways. Like Cobain, you could make a record almost calculated to offend all the bandwagon-jumpers. Or take as much time off as you'd like. Who says you can't go live on a desert island for two years? 

BJA: That'd be nice. I'm just not enjoying life right now. I'm really not. I'm so cluttered, I can't even speak. Yeah, I do feel like I'm getting old, and I'm kinda bitter about that. I'm not excited about being onstage anymore, and I was really trying to convince myself that I was. Really. Before we did this last U.S. tour, every time I did an interview--I don't know if you read the last Rolling Stone piece--I was like "Yeah! I'm excited! I wanna play these arenas!" and stuff. And then just every night, it started sucking, it felt like a routine or something. It felt almost choreographed in a lot of ways. And I was yelling "f?!k you!" to people, but I didn't know who I was yelling "f?!k you" to anymore. 

RIP: Last time we spoke, you said you went out of your way to change every single show, make each one different. 

BJA: Well, I think it's just the stress of getting up in front of all those people all the time, every day. It's like, "Do I really feel like downing another f?!cking pot of coffee and a bottle of wine before I walk onstage to do this again? Just to get myself ready to go?" You know, for all those people. And every night I always do something different and stupid. But at the same time, it'd be really cool to just say "F?!k you!" to people and like, walk off. And then they'd get it. It's like, "I'm really telling you to f?!k off this time! Time to pack up and go home." It'd just be so nice to start from scratch again. 

RIP: In many ways you can. That's the music-making system trying to program your behavior. And obviously you've broken quite a few rules already--you don't even have to be talking to me right now, actually.... 

BJA: Oh no. I really wanted to do this interview, just because the last interviews that I've done, I've been miserable, and I was pretending not to be. I really was, I was lying. Not to the reader, not to the person I was doing the interview. But I was lying to myself, convincing myself that I was really happy with how everything is going. 

RIP: So you always knew what you wanted, and now you've got it, in spades. You're having trouble figuring out what's next? 

BJA: I didn't even know what I wanted back then. I really didn't. I didn't know if I wanted to be huge, totally successful. I never knew that. I was struggling so hard even to sign that f?!king contract--when I was sitting there, I was contemplating, "Should I just run outta here right now? Am I making the biggest mistake of my life?" A lot of people say, "You're totally disillusioned with what money can do for people," but money never meant shit to me. There's something very passionate to me, very romantic, about living on the street in a lot of ways. Just because I really like my lifestyle back then. I was totally content, in retrospect. A lot of it has to do with the fame. I dunno, I'm trying to talk right now and just totally stuttering. 

RIP: It's not like you chose music--it chose you, and you can't help it. 

BJA: Yeah, it's cool when people really get it. But what a lot of people don't understand is that we're a band that's been around a lot longer than people know. And that's the thing. The difference between this and what happened between Kerplunk and Dookie--in a year, I got married, I had a kid, and I sold 11 million records worldwide. That can do something to ya, ya know? 

BJA: Sometimes I think it'd be cool to just hang out with my friends, drink beer, smoke cigarettes. The more I think about it, the more I'd be really happy with that. I don't think that we're feeling quite like a band anymore--that's one problem we have. There was this certain rock 'n' roll underdog think that we always had--we always drove for something, always drove from town to town in a small van. And you know, I f?!kin' like touring like that--it's like culture shock, really, driving around in a van, setting up my amp when I get there, and playing. That's rock 'n' roll, that's what it started out as. A bunch of sweaty pigs in some tiny f?!kin' bar having a hootenanny, that's what punk rock was to me, that's what drove me to it. I love rock music in its simples, rawest form. And I think we're the only band, really, that plays rock 'n' roll. 

RIP: Has all this put a strain on your old friendships? Do your pals treat you a little differently now? 

BJA: When I come up to friends I haven't talked to in a while, there's a weirdness. And the ones who are really close to me don't really bring up anything, but that thing is still there; it's still in the air. And sometimes I'll just not say anything the whole time we're hanging out. I'll be totally quiet, because the only thing I'll have to talk about is my band, and I get so sick of talking about my band and myself. So I'll just be quiet, since that's the only thing there is to me, except for my son and my wife. 

RIP: Pretty soon, you'll be boring everyone with slide shows--"There we are at Yosemite!" 

BJA: Ha! Adrienne was telling me the other day, "When you were in there dancing with all your friends, while the band was playing, you were so happy because you were so in your element." And I've even gone as far as saying we're not a punk band anymore. But no matter what, that's still gonna stick with me forever, because I love the music, I love the energy of a new band coming out that creates this sense of urgency about 'em. I'll never be able to kick that habit. I love hangin' out with my friends who have small fanzines--kids just writing their guts out about whatever the hell's bothering 'em, and putting it on a Xerox machine and then handing it out for a quarter apiece at shows or at a party. All I wanna do is just try and work it out. I was sitting there the other day, counting all the records that the Replacements put out, stuff like that, Dan thinking how [Paul] Westerberg totally came across to his audience and did everything, everything that the wanted to do in music. He wasn't extremely successful for it, but the guy has influenced people, and a lot of 'em don't even know that they are influenced by him. All I wanna do is just write good songs and stick to it. I wanna develop--not being experimental--but go into different styles, go across my boundaries of the two-and-a-half minute punk song with a three-and-a-half minute jazz song, or maybe get into a little bit of swing or rockabilly. 

RIP: With such staggering success, you could walk into Reprise and tell 'em you're doing an album of saxophone solos and they'd allow you that creative luxury. 

BJA: Well, I never wanna be that experimental. I don't wanna get into synthesizers and shit like that. The thing that was cool for me with Insomniac was that I think we definitely set a foundation for ourselves, because we put out our hardest record to date, totally in-your-face all the way through, and now we're able to go anywhere we want. We can do that now--we do have that going for us. That is, if people are still interested. Which is kinda weird for me to say.... 

RIP: Your craft will always remain the most important thing of all, even if you're just writing for your own amusement. 

BJA: Yeah. No matter what, I'm gonna be writing songs for the rest of my life. I mean, I already have a shitload of new songs right now. But I just wanna do some other things with it. We've sold a million of Insomniac so far. But I definitely want to be respected as a musician. Well, more as a songwriter than as a musician. I wanna be f?!kin' normal, is what I wanna be. The thing is, I've seen so many freaks and so many weirdos and crazy punk rockers and drunks and junkies. But for a lot of those people being weird is easy. It's so easy to be strange--the hard thing is to try to be normal. There's no such thing as normal, ya know. 

RIP: How's your mom feel about all this? 

BJA: She's kinda worried about me. She doesn't know what to think of everything. We have a hard time communicating with each other, just because I don't like to talk about it that much. So she feels like she has to walk on eggshells around me all the time. 

RIP: You buy her anything cool once the money started rolling in? 

BJA: Nah--she doesn't want anything. I've asked her. She's been living in the same house for over 20 years, and she's content living there. But I did give her a trip--she went to Hawaii, her and her boyfriend. And I think travelling is really good--if you paid for someone to travel, so they can go and explore and see some things they've never seen before. But I think that's probably where I get it from. I get so content with not having much. And then you get all this stuff, all this attention, and you don't really know what to do with it. You don't know how to channel it. 

RIP: Most outrageous thing you've bought for yourself? 

BJA: I got my car primered! And one thing I did do was build a home studio. So I've been recording all my friends' bands for free. I produced this band called Dead and Gone, and Social Unrest, Fetish and the Criminals. And I have this side-project called Pinhead Gunpowder--nothing's up with it right now, but we played at the beginning of '94 a few times. RIP: Sounds like you've got more than enough pressure valves to let off the steam. Still, do you worry about death? 

BJA: Yeah, I do. But I have too many reasons to stick around. One is my son and my wife. And I don't feel like I'm finished yet. I'm not done, ya know? And the beauty of it is that death is forever and your problems aren't. And that's why I'm talking about my bad shit, because you vent that, you get it off your chest and you can move on to something else. There's gotta be a positive side to all this--so you just sort of try and dig it out. Get rid of all the bad--out with the bad air, in with the good air. 

RIP: You said about Green Day that you think your "bandwagon is coming to a close and all that's gonna be left is just a band. Hopefully." So then will you start writing happy songs? 

BJA: I thought about writing a totally sarcastic song called "I'm So Goddamn Happy," just talking about how happy I am. Actually, I'd like to put out a double record--I'd like to put out tons of music. But I never wanna become an egomaniac. I just wanna keep things down to earth, so I think it's really important for us to take a long break after all this stuff. We just put out two records back to back, one year after another, and now we can sit back and work on ourselves as people again. So we don't parody ourselves. And it's so hard to be a father and a musician at the same time. If I get into one thing and I pay close attention to it, like if I'm with Joey and I start neglecting my music, then I feel like I should play more often. So I start playing my music, and then I'm going, "Am I neglecting Joey?" So it becomes hard to do everything at the same time. 

BJA: I wanna create a very mellow and sound atmosphere for him, because I don't wanna make any mistakes for him--I want him to be able to make his own mistakes. And even when it comes to swearing--I don't cuss in front of my kid. I'd rather him get it from some dirty-mouthed kid at school. Then at least I'd know, I could go "Thank God--my kid is in a real world and he's learning these things from his surroundings." That'd be a good thing. Because the best things you ever learn are the things you learn in kindergarten. 

Finally, after more than an hour worth of gut-spilling, Armstrong suddenly observes four brace-faced girls, each no more than 12 years old, idling over by the cash register. They're there on the pretext of getting change. In reality, they just want to ogle punk icon and pin-up darling Billie Joe, stare at those caterpillar eyebrows and chiselled cheekbones up close. Another oh-my-gawd event. "I gotta go--it's gettin' weird," the reluctant rocker whispers, literally leaping up from the booth. "I can feel eyeballs all over me already...." And as fast as that, he's gone. "Was that...was that...B-B-B-B-Billie Joe?" stammers one swooner. "No," says the waitress, with a subtle smile. "That was just some guy who usually eats here alone, nobody famous at all. You know, just an average guy." A little white lie to herd the young 'uns out. But nevertheless the truth.

[milarvela]

By his own admission, John Barrowman has always been notorious in showbusiness circles. 'I'm known for my jokes, my sense of fun, my high jinks,' he says.

But those 'high jinks' have come back to haunt him recently as a result of serious allegations against his former Doctor Who co-star Noel Clarke.

John's role as Captain Jack Harkness in Doctor Who began in 2005 and the character was given his own spin-off series, the far more adult Torchwood, a year later.

It launched a hugely successful career for John on both stage and screen, taking in leading roles in West End musicals, big-budget US TV shows such as superhero series Arrow, and homegrown light entertainment favourites like All Star Musicals and most recently Dancing On Ice, where he's one of the judges. He was by anyone's measure a family-friendly favourite.

Then a couple of months ago the sky fell in. Following accusations of sexual harassment against Noel Clarke, who played Mickey Smith – the boyfriend of Billie Piper's character Rose – in Doctor Who from 2005 until 2010, historic footage emerged on YouTube of a sci-fi convention, Chicago Tardis, in 2014, released by The Guardian newspaper which had investigated Clarke's behaviour on the Doctor Who set.

In an interview in front of a live audience, Clarke is seen regaling fellow cast members Annette Badland and Camille Coduri with tales of John's behaviour on the set of Doctor Who, exposing himself 'every five seconds'. Clarke then jokes with the audience not to do this at their workplace or they might go to prison.

The allegations levelled against Clarke are extremely serious. At least 20 women have come forward to accuse him of sexual harassment and bullying, 'inappropriate touching and groping' and secretly filming naked auditions before sharing the videos without consent.

He denies all the allegations, but BAFTA has since suspended the Outstanding Contribution award it bestowed on him just weeks earlier, and the BBC has shelved any future projects he was working on with them.

Now John's behaviour on the sets of both Doctor Who and Torchwood has come under scrutiny once again. The furore has led to a video of Captain Jack Harkness being expunged from the current immersive Doctor Who theatre show Time Fracture, a planned Torchwood audio production featuring John and former Doctor Who lead David Tennant being scrapped and doubt about whether he will be invited back to the Dancing On Ice panel.

ITV will announce the line-up for the next series in September. John immediately issued an apology following the emergence of the video back in May, but today he's decided to speak exclusively and candidly to Weekend to give his side of the story.

'The moment has come to set the record straight,' he says from the Palm Springs, California, home he shares with his husband Scott Gill. 'This is the first time – and the last – I will address this subject. And then I plan to draw a thick black line under it.'

Firstly he says it's important to set the scene. On the set of Torchwood, which followed a team of alien hunters and explored themes of sexuality and corruption, he had what might be called a 'relaxed' attitude to nudity, and would wander around in an open robe. But it's claimed that he was well known for flashing and mooning at cast and crew alike on both the Doctor Who and Torchwood sets.

As Captain Jack Harkness I was the star of Torchwood, so I felt it was down to me to lead the company and keep them entertained,' he explains. 'When I was doing a nude scene or a love scene it was clear in the script I'd be naked and everyone would have known about that at least 48 hours in advance. So I'd be waiting in my trailer wearing just a robe with a sock over my "parts". Then, if I were standing waiting to film a scene where I needed to be nude and someone came into view, I'd make a joke to put them and myself at ease. My actions were simply designed to defuse any potential awkwardness among the cast and crew.

'I've never been someone who's embarrassed about his body so it didn't bother me if anyone saw me naked,' he adds. 'The motivation for what I'd call my "tomfoolery" was to maintain a jokey atmosphere. There was absolutely nothing sexual about my actions and nor have I ever been accused of that.' Whether this sort of behaviour would defuse any awkwardness, or actually foster it, is debatable.

WHY I'VE GONE INTO THERAPY

This scandal has clearly not left John unscathed. 'It was upsetting my mental health,' he tells me. 'My husband Scott suggested I talk to somebody. I won't discuss what I've said in therapy sessions – that's a matter of doctor/patient confidentiality – but I don't mind admitting it's helped me a great deal.

'It's made me aware that despite how much cancel culture may talk about respecting people's mental health, too often they don't respect the mental health of the people they're trying to cancel. So I needed to understand what was happening, which is why I went to speak to somebody.'

Has he had more than one session? 'Yes. It's a conversation that's still going on,' he says with a wry laugh. 'Seriously, whatever the situation, if you feel you need to reach out to someone it's very important to keep talking.'

'If what happened had taken place in the changing rooms after a rugby match it would be regarded as no more than a prank,' he continues. 'On the other hand, it's never going to happen in an accountant's office or a supermarket. But my job is not a regular nine-to-five, we're a family working long hours and in close proximity to each other.' Again, one has to bear in mind that a rugby changing room would be an all-male environment. There were many women in the cast and crew of the TV shows.

'In the theatre quick costume changes happen in the wings all the time, with everyone stripping off to get into their new outfits in time for the next scene,' he says. 'Girls might be braless, boys only in jockstraps. That's just how it is and no one gives it a second thought. But I accept that my behaviour at the time could have caused offence.'

Although John's recollection is that no one complained at the time, and he says that no one has complained since, at one point he was called in for a private conversation with Julie Gardner, an executive producer on Doctor Who and Torchwood. She has confirmed to The Guardian that she did receive a complaint.

'My antics had come to her attention and she told me I should rein in my behaviour,' he recalls. 'In blunt terms, she had just two words of advice: "Grow up!" That struck a chord. I did as I was told and my behaviour changed overnight. I'd still be full of jokes and fun, but no more naked pranks. I can see now my actions were pretty juvenile but this was a different time and it's something I would not do today.'

When these rumours were swirling back in 2008, it's also said John exposed himself during a Radio 1 interview in which his behaviour was being discussed. He denies this today.

'I was being goaded by the presenters about my reported behaviour on the Doctor Who set. I went along with it but I didn't actually do anything inappropriate in the studio. What would have been the point, it was on the radio? Still, it created such a stir that the following day I decided to make a full public apology and get on with my life.'

And that might have been that, but for the accusations against Noel Clarke coming to light. 'It seems to me that I've become collateral damage to a much bigger story,' says John.

Given his and Clarke's high profiles and the severity of the allegations against Clarke, this is hardly surprising. Has he spoken to his former co-star since the balloon went up?

'I have not.' Does he plan to? 'I do not. But listen, I'm not trying to cast myself in the role of victim here.' That said, he clearly resents these stories re-emerging, although he has had messages of support.

'In fact many members of the cast and crew have been in touch since this latest storm blew up giving me their support,' he insists. 'I won't name them because I don't want anyone to find themselves in the firing line.'

However, Gareth David-Lloyd, who played bisexual Jack Harkness's lover Ianto Jones in Torchwood, has chosen to go public about working with John. 'In my experience John's behaviour on set was always meant to entertain, make people laugh and keep their spirits and energy high on what were sometimes very long working days,' he said.

'It may be because we were so close as a cast that professional lines were sometimes blurred in the excitement. I was too inexperienced to know any different but we were always laughing. The John I knew on set would never have behaved in a way he thought was affecting someone negatively. From what I know of him, that is not his nature. He was a whirlwind of positive energy, always very generous, kind and a wonderfully supportive lead actor.'

In the weeks following this new public scrutiny John has had time to reflect, and has come to the conclusion there are two issues. One is the aftermath of the #MeToo movement; the other is cancel culture.

'I'm a supporter of #MeToo because no person should ever feel that in order to succeed in their career they can be coerced into doing something sexual against their will.

'My problem with cancel culture, on the other hand, is that it can take the form of intolerance and prejudice. It's a culture with no shades of grey. There's no leeway for forgiveness or room for recognising any change in someone's behaviour. Cancel culture tends to talk at you or past you or through you, rather than listen to you. Dialogue is extremely rare.'

He sounds upset now. 'Look, I'm in a good place,' he insists. 'I've got a great husband, a great family, a great "fan family" around me. But I've found it difficult. And yes, some of the things that were being said have been hurtful.

'Scott and I would go to bed on a Saturday night dreading the stories in the Sunday papers. And then I'd wake up to lies. One newspaper printed as fact that I'd been dropped as a judge by Dancing On Ice. Well, apart from the fact that the new panel isn't decided until the autumn, no one from ITV had spoken to me or my agent about this latest upset.'

Ashley Banjo, leader of dance troupe Diversity and a fellow Dancing On Ice judge, has only worked with John for the past couple of years so did not know him during the time of the behaviour he's now being scrutinised for, but has publicly spoken out in support.

'I've told John I'd readily work with him again,' said Ashley. 'He's always fun on Dancing On Ice and he's been very respectful and considerate. I'd like to see him come back. The impression I get from this story is it's something small and historic, something blown out of proportion. What I'm not a supporter of in regard to cancel culture is when the speed of allegation is much faster than the speed of investigation. Before I make a judgment I want to see and understand the facts.'

There has been outrage on Twitter, with many users pointing out that John's 'tomfoolery' could be regarded as indecent exposure, and that the fact it happened among work colleagues is no excuse. 'You don't do that in work. You don't do it full stop. If you did it in the city centre you'd be arrested,' posted one user.

So does he regret the way he behaved? 'You can't wind the clock back,' he says.

'They were different times, which is why I wouldn't do now what I did then. I've acknowledged that by the way my behaviour has changed. The trouble is that certain cancel culture enthusiasts are not allowing me to acknowledge it. I've always believed that the reason I was put on this planet was to bring joy to people, make them laugh. How I do that has evolved over the years. I'm still using humour, just in a different way than might have been the case ten or 20 years ago.'

Now, he says, he wants to move on, both personally and professionally. Many years ago he bought a house for his parents down the street from where he lives with Scott.

'They're getting on now and I've been their primary carer throughout the pandemic, doing their shopping, getting their prescriptions from the pharmacy and so on. My mother broke her pelvis at one stage but she's on the mend now. I'm just thankful I can keep an eye on her and my father. I'm thankful too to the scientists for coming up with the means by which we can combat Covid via vaccinations, and the healthcare workers for administering them and looking after us so selflessly. We owe them a great debt of gratitude.'

What about professionally? 'Well, I'm at the early stages of putting together a show full of anecdotes and songs that will tour throughout the UK when restrictions are finally lifted. As far as I'm concerned, it's back to business as usual.'

But it remains to be seen later this year with the announcement of the line-up for Dancing On Ice whether John's career too might be put on ice.

***

I can see now my actions were pretty juvenile but this was a different time and it's something I would not do today.'

Well, to be blunt, he’s too old to be doing it anyway, people would just roll they eyes at a pathetic old lech instead of maybe giggling at a younger man’s adorable/innocent/whatever tomfoolery.

'In fact many members of the cast and crew have been in touch since this latest storm blew up giving me their support,' he insists. 'I won't name them because I don't want anyone to find themselves in the firing line.'

I think he should name them. Just for fun. Come on! Because I doubt there have been (m)any. If this story teaches anything, it’s that whatever you say/do can come back to haunt your celebrity status years later in most unexpected ways. Or maybe he was always the intended main course, Noel Clarke only the appetiser...

[liam-93-productions]

Note: This interview was made a month ago. So mind that while reading Liam’s answers. 

In the offices of Liam Payne's management company, just north of Soho in central London, there's a bottle of Bacardi inscribed with his name.

It was sent as a gift, after the singer immortalised the drink in his hit single Strip That Down. According to the lyrics, which he co-wrote with Ed Sheeran, he mixes it with Coke and "sips it lightly".

There's just one small snag, says Payne: "I don't think I've ever drunk Bacardi".

"When I was younger, I went straight in on the whisky," the star says. "I tend to pick my poison early, then I stick with it until it bores me."

In fact, shortly after Strip That Down was released in 2017, Payne gave up drinking altogether after his lifestyle became "a cause for concern".

"There were a couple of very dark years of me going through extreme peril with different mental health things," says the 26-year-old. "I just didn't know where I was going to end up."

'Reset button'

His drinking started to get out of hand while he was on tour with One Direction - the hotel mini-bar becoming a source of solace as he came down from the adrenalin high of playing for 80,000 screaming fans.

But even when the band went on hiatus, the habit continued. "It was very erratic behaviour on my part - I was partying too hard," says the star, who'd always been cast as the "sensible" member of 1D.

"It was a tough little time. My family were very worried."

Eventually, there came a point "where I realised I needed to hit the reset button and take a break," he says.

"I was coming off the back-end of a break-up, so I was dealing with all sorts of emotions that I hadn't dealt with in a long time because I was always covering them up - heartbreak, nerves, all sorts of things. I'd gotten too used to this rhythm of life; of using alcohol and different things to mask my feelings, or get me through. So I just needed to prove to myself that [drinking] wasn't the issue for me."

(...)

'Success gets the better of you'

(...)

Is that why it took two years to translate the success of Strip That Down into a debut album?

Actually, no. It was that song's phenomenal, and unexpected, performance (it's still the biggest-selling solo song by any of the former One Directioners) that threw Payne's plans into disarray.

"Strip That Down was such an amazing thing to happen - but sometimes success gets the better of you," he says.

"It took the best part of nine months to get to number one in America - and for that whole period, people wouldn't put any other songs on the radio. So it was a really weird time. We got stuck with one song for so long that it really prolonged the process of making the album".

It was especially strange for someone who was used to writing and recording entire albums in six weeks or less.

"Writing for One Direction was a different process because you knew what the kids wanted," says the star, who co-wrote about 50% of the band's last two albums.

"I love those songs - don't get me wrong - but I knew why I was writing them and I knew what I was writing them for."

Ultimately, Payne realised that getting more time to work on his debut album was "a luxury" and he allowed himself to "sit back and enjoy the process for once".

Recording sessions took place around the world, with A-listers like Ed Sheeran, Ryan Tedder and Charlie Puth. In total, the album credits a staggering 72 composers - and Payne likens the writing process to "speed dating".

"Sometimes it was difficult because I'd get one or two days in the studio with someone that I don't know and I didn't really want to share an awful lot of private stuff with them," he says. "It's almost like the first day of school every day."

His experiences in One Direction helped him be more assertive during sessions; and he turns out to be a studio geek, marvelling at piano sound on Selena Gomez's Lose You To Love Me, ("they've recorded it so close, you can hear the hammer hitting the strings") and the textural painting in Billie Eilish's Everything I Wanted ("when she sings 'I'm underwater'and they tweak her vocal so it sounds like she's disappearing, it's like Disneyland").

But as the album came together, he gravitated towards the albums he grew up with - Usher's 8701, Justin Timberlake's Justified and Chris Brown's self-titled debut - shaping his solo career around a sleek, efficient brand of R&B.

There's a thread of sadness running through the album - "Heart meet break, lips meet drink / Rock meet bottom, to the bottom I sink," he sings at one point - informed by his recurring bouts of depression, (...).

"I'm an absolute expert on heartbreak, it would seem," he says. "I think, for me, it was easier to write from a sad place, because the feelings were a little bit more raw. Happiness is hard to fathom, I think."

My sexuality is not your fetish'

But it's one of the album's more explicit songs that generated headlines - and for all the wrong reasons.

Both Ways is a late-night slow jam that details a sexual encounter with two women. "My girl, she like it both ways," Payne sings over a ringing trap beat. "She like the way it all taste / Couple more, we'll call it foreplay / No, no, I don't discriminate."

Within hours of its release last week, the track was being criticised for reinforcing harmful stereotypes that bisexual women's sexualities exist for the gratification of men - a fetishisation that can have violent, real-world consequences.

So far, Payne hasn't responded - but when we spoke last month, before the furore erupted, he said Both Ways was his "favourite song" on the record.

In his explanation, the lyrics are about being open to new experiences and different sexualities, as we emerge into a new "world of 'love is love' and people becoming much more understanding about the way love is - and rightly so".

Payne indicated that the song had originated with one of his co-writers, adding: "I don't know who in the studio had actually been in this situation, because I certainly haven't, but it was an interesting song to write."

Whether or not he addresses the criticism, the song is a blot on his copybook; and a rare mis-step for a singer who's always strived to be on the right side of public opinion.

For a self-confessed perfectionist, its bound to sting; but several times during our discussion, Payne says he's trying to learn from his mistakes, rather than punish himself for making them in the first place.

"My life is super-complicated," he says. "(...) and all sorts of different things kicking off, so I have to drill these messages into my head."

All things considered, would he prefer not to have auditioned for the X Factor all those years ago?

"I wouldn't change it," he says decisively. "I know it's where I'm supposed to be in the world now.

"I was very confused about fame when it all happened; and learning to be a person outside of your job was difficult. But now I feel like I get it. I'm a lucky boy."

Liam Payne's debut album, LP1, is out now on Capitol Records.

[gaiapaia]

Kermit and Friends: A Work of Art

Elisa kicked this week’s show off with a lovely prayer in honor of Kermit that was inspired by a caller from last week. Fozzie started kissing Elisa like crazy when she began talking about Kermit... it’s not possible to have started the show in a sweeter manner.

Co-host Sugar then showed off her beautiful Kermitarian shirt, much to the delight of a lot men in the audience. If you would like to purchase any Kermit and Friends merchandise, you can do so here. 

You know what? I’m positive if Kermit was asked what would be the best way to end 2020, she would have answered to make a new awesome friend for her awesome show. Well, Kermit would have got her wish granted with Trumpster Bob!

Trumpster Bob is a gentleman Elisa met on the Drunken Peasants podcast (which you can watch here). They clicked well and Elisa invited him to KAF and voila - here he is!

If I were to describe what I know about Trumpster Bob thus far, it’s that he has the patriotism of Honest Frank, the drinking capacity of Corey, the sexual appetite of Claire, and the no-filter gift of gab of Kleenex. He contains pieces of all these classic Kermit and Friends stars, so of course he’s just perfect for Kermit and all her amazing friends. Bob was actually dubbed COO of KAF by Elisa, so I’m really looking forward to seeing what all he will bring to the show in the future.

Other than that, of course Trumpster Bob is a big Donald Trump fan. He’s also an Adonis in the bedroom with the way he describes his ability to pleasure women. And he gets a lot flirtation from men too, as multiple male callers called in to announce their attraction to Trumpster Bob. He’s just an all around stud I guess!

Speaking of studs, William Quigley made his triumph return to Kermit and Friends this week. If you remember Quig from previous episodes, he’s the guy who sold a Donald Trump painting to Trump himself, and he also likes to cam up in the shower. He’s very fun and very accomplished.

Elisa asked Quig a question, which led to Quig sharing a long story about how he missed out on a big investment opportunity with Red Bull and Grey Goose vodka. The main point of the story was how much of a mistake that was, but then he used the story as an excuse as to why he shouldn’t invest his time and energy into helping Kermit and Friends without being paid or having some sort of contract.

Honestly, I will never be looked at as a real contributor because I’m not an on-screen participant on the show. Nothing I do really matters, the on-screen talent is the bread and butter for KAF’s success. But as a huge fan of KAF, as someone who loves Elisa very much... I do put a lot of effort into helping in the ways that I can. I don’t ask to be paid for it. I’m a fan; it’s not much different from being a fan of a sports franchise. The Houston Astros don’t pay me to watch their games, give supportive tweets, wear their merchandise, etc. I do those things on my own because I love the Astros, just like I love Kermit and Friends.

If Quig truly cares about Elisa, if he truly enjoys Kermit and Friends... he should want to help out. I’m not in the position where I can snag big guests for the show, but if I was, I’d happily do it. So Quig, my respectful advice to you if you read this is to just contribute in the ways that you can. And if Kermit and Friends becomes a huge multi-million dollar success, you shouldn’t be upset if you don’t get a piece of the pie - you should be elated for contributing to Elisa’s dreams coming true. That’s how it will be for me. I pray it happens in 2021 or 2022, even if that means I lose direct contact to Elisa due to her fame. I will just be happy for her, no regrets.

Okay, I’m rambling on like my man Quigley did... sorry! Back to the review.

There was a funny gimmick on the old Kermit and Friends that featured a Zebra music video. Elisa has brought that cute little video back and she is on a never ending quest to try to find out who the real Little Zebra is. A mysterious woman called in... could it be her? There was a cartoon zebra on cam... could it be that person? There was another caller who claimed to be Little Zebra... could he be the real one? Maybe we’ll find out in the upcoming weeks, but the video was a joyous experience every time it was randomly played by Elisa.

Laurie was back on Kermit and Friends this week, looking nice in her colorful hijab with Marylin Monroe pictures in the background. William Quigley kindly painted a portrait of Laurie and presented it to her on the show. That was a sweet and also somewhat hilarious moment. Maybe Quig will paint Trumpster Bob next!

Kermit was lucky enough to make even more awesome new friends this week with M3 and Etan. Unfortunately neither guy could stay long but it was cool seeing them both and I hope we’ll get more time to get to know them further in the future.

Billy the Fridge also returned this week and had an interesting discussion with Elisa about certain enemies they’ve made over the years. Elisa shared her experience with an awful radio host in Florida (I remember that interview vividly, it was back in 2016 when Elisa was in the middle of trying to get her writing career going... I was infuriated with how that went). She also discussed her beef with Jimmy Kimmel, which I always find intriguing. I still hope Elisa finds it in her heart to forgive these people one day, but for now at least they could be used as fascinating topic points for the show.

So one complaint I do have about KAF right now is the phone calls. Everyone watching was at one time in their lives a Howard Stern fan, so they should know that you turn down your radio before you call in. If you want to call in to sing or flirt with Trumpster Bob or read definitions about Republicans, please turn down the volume on the device you’re watching the show on beforehand, PLEASE! Maybe as the show grows, Brandon the Neighbor can start screening calls for Elisa.

But back to the good stuff... all heck broke loose when Trumpster Bob met Laurie. Bob isn’t fond of Muslims and let his opinions be known. Laurie had none of it and fought fire with fire, and her father Johnny B even joined in on the action to stand up for his daughter. Then Corey comes out of nowhere to defend his mortal enemies Johnny and Laurie against Bob. It was absolute PANDEMONIUM on Kermit and Friends!

Once the chaos chilled out a bit, Elisa allowed Laurie to play some Islamic prayers that sounded like the Satanic orgy ritual scene from the movie Eyes Wide Shut. Sincerely though, that was very kindhearted of Elisa to do. 

Following the Muslim prayers, Elisa gave her beautiful Greek definition of church (ecclesia - to assemble a group of people), and then Johnny B ended things with a lovely performance of God Bless America.

Lastly, in typical Kermit and Friends fashion, we were treated with an awesome surprise after the outro video, where Elisa showed some home movies of her late precious dog Kermit. It was just like a post credit scene in a Marvel film, only 100000x better! Thank you for that Elisa, Kermit would be so so proud of you...

[obtusemedia]

The best songs of the 2010s: #25-1

#25: “SICKO MODE” by Travis Scott feat. Drake (2018)

When music historians look at hip-hop’s late-’10s dominance, I have no doubt that “SICKO MODE” will be viewed as the pinnacle of the era.

Let’s just go through a checklist of what makes “SICKO MODE” an instant classic: The weirdo multi-part structure. Travis Scott’s nearly two-minute long verse with quotable lines galore. Drake somehow managing to make falling asleep on an airplane sound cool. That spooky two-word Swae Lee refrain. Multiple Jamba Juice name-drops (inspiring a hilarious meme video). An iconic, striking music video with whacked-out imagery galore. 

But most importantly, it’s a stone-cold banger that will get any dance floor moving. What more could you want? 

#24: “Dance Yrself Clean” by LCD Soundsystem (2010)

You might have noticed that one of the decade’s biggest musical trends — EDM — hasn’t shown up much on this list. That’s because a majority of it has already aged badly, even just a few years later. Songs like “Don’t You Worry Child” or “Wake Me Up!” certainly have their charms, but unlike the more enjoyable, trashy electropop that preceded it, most EDM hits were plodding and self-serious. And its best artist, Calvin Harris, made his best work when he drifted away from the subgenre’s rigid structure and just made pure pop music.

But my passiveness towards EDM doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a great drop. There’s been plenty of songs on the list with incredible drops up to this point, and there’s still a couple more to come. Hell, I even halfway considered putting some Skrillex on the list just because some of his early stuff still can get your pulse pounding (even if these songs REEK of the early 10s). But there will never be a drop more bonkers than “Dance Yrself Clean.”

Indie legends LCD Soundsystem kicked off the decade with a bang with this song — but they made you wait for that bang. More than three minutes, to be exact. But those who were patient enough to sit through the quiet, drawn-out opening were treated to frontman James Murphy wailing like a madman over a shuffling beat, bouncy bass and a cascading, randomized symphony of analog synthesizers. Although I’m sure Murphy calculated every second of “Dance Yrself Clean,” it sounds like absolute anarchy. And in the moments when his screaming vocals go hoarse over the slamming synths, it’s unreal.

#23: “Born To Die” by Lana Del Rey (2011)

This was the first Lana Del Rey song I heard, back in my junior year of high school. I was immediately floored. The vocals, the cinematic orchestral sweep, the spaghetti western guitars, the tragically beautiful lyrics  — it was an instant masterpiece. There was no way Lana wouldn’t be the world’s biggest popstar within a year.

A couple months later, Lana infamously bombed on Saturday Night Live, which some thought would derail her career entirely. Even after her career has survived and she’s become a critical darling with a cult fanbase, her debut album, Born To Die, and its title track still have a bit of the stink from that SNL performance. Well, no more.

“Born To Die” is a haunting gothic-pop masterpiece that’s aged much better than much early-’10s pop (although I love the corny club stuff from that era, don’t get me wrong). Lana’s smoky voice is unparalleled, the trip-hop production is untouchable.

And although her pinnacle wouldn’t come until 2014 with her sophomore album Ultraviolence, “Born To Die” is still Lana’s most perfect single to date.

#22: “Green Light” by Lorde (2017)

In 2013, Lorde completely upended the pop universe with “Royals,” a minimalist tune chastising radio hits for their un-relatable opulence. By 2017, the culture had fully gravitated towards Lorde’s moodier sound, with greyscale acts like Post Malone and Alessia Cara writing monster hits about being angsty and sad (and not in the artsy, brilliant way that worked for Kurt Cobain or Kanye). It was a far cry from the neon, bubbly world of Katy Perry and Carly Rae Jepsen from a few years prior.

The New Zealand prodigy could’ve cashed in on being ahead of the curve and continued down her minimalist moody path. But she did the opposite with the defiant and proudly energized “Green Light.” Yes, it’s a breakup anthem, but Lorde doesn’t wallow in her sadness here (she saves that for other Melodrama cuts). Instead, she wailed away into the night, playing off of the thundering drums and bouncing pianos of Jack Antonoff’s production (his best-ever). 

With “Green Light,” Lorde let her ex, and the world, know that she isn’t going anywhere. She might not ever reach the commercial heights of “Royals” again, but she’ll be an icon as long as there’s heartbreak that needs overcoming.

#21: “If You Know You Know” by Pusha-T (2018)

Pusha-T’s magnum opus, “If You Know You Know,” is a masterclass in cocaine rap with its effortless wordplay, sinister-yet-charismatic flow and blaring Kanye West beat. It deserved to be the song of the summer in 2018, but the masses chose a C-tier Drake single instead (despite Push absolutely ENDING Drake that summer).

But that doesn’t diminish the achievement Push made with this song. It’s quite a feat to record your best-ever track 17 years after your breakout. It’s even more of an accomplishment when that track kicks as much ass as “If You Know You Know.”

#20: “Teenage Dream” by Katy Perry (2010)

Teenage Dream-era Katy Perry is one of pop’s all-time juggernauts. The five consecutive #1 hit singles that album racked up is a feat matched only by Michael Jackson. Of those five singles, one stands out as the clear masterpiece of the group: the album’s title track (although “T.G.I.F” is also incredible).

I remember feeling a little underwhelmed by “Teenage Dream” when I first heard it in 2010. Her last single was a goofy, bombastic summer jam complete with a ridiculous video. “Teenage Dream” is a much more conventional, timeless pop jam. The chord structure is shockingly simple and the lyrics are lovestruck notes from a ‘50s ballad.

But that simplicity is what makes the song work. “Teenage Dream” has aged well because sometimes, all you need is three chords, a monster hook and yearning lyrics. This song will be Perry’s biggest legacy.

#19: “Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales” by Car Seat Headrest (2016)

“Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales” has to be the only uplifting, U2/Nirvana-style power ballad about DUIs.

Landing smack in the middle of Car Seat Headrest’s indie rock concept album/instant-classic Teens of Denial, “Drunk Drivers” is about the main character taking stock of his entire life and emotional instability. And yes, it all centers around driving drunk — or in this case, refusing that temptation as an impetus to change one’s life.

Naturally, in the very next song on the album, it’s revealed that the narrator drove drunk and got arrested anyways. But for a cathartic six minutes, “Drunk Drivers” provides a fleeting escape from the constant loop of self-hate and depression. Not to mention that it’s a grinding ‘90s alt-rock throwback that probably makes Billy Corgan jealous.

#18: “Harmony Hall” by Vampire Weekend (2019)

I’d never guess that Vampire Weekend’s second-best song (after “Oxford Comma,” of course) would be a hippie-friendly tune combining the Grateful Dead and Screamadelica. But here we are. And awkward combination or no, Ezra Koenig knew exactly what he was doing.

In a very dark, uncertain year, Koenig decided to write a song that doubled both as a blissed-out reprieve and a nervous warning. The music is utopian, but the lyrics detail the anger, confusion and constant obstacles of life in the late ‘10s. Koenig takes a lyric from one of his previous songs — “I don’t want to live like this/but I don’t want to die” — and makes it a rallying cry for anxious Millennials around the world, paranoid that the world might not stick around much longer.

It’s a heavy topic, but the gorgeous instrumentals, breakbeat drums, lilting guitars and bouncy pianos certainly ease the stress. “Harmony Hall” is a late-career masterpiece for the ages.

#17: “Marvins Room” by Drake (2011)

Never before has a booty call sounded so sad.

Way before he ruled the pop universe, Drake was just hip-hop’s resident mope. And “Marvins Room” is peak sadboi Drake. Using a real voicemail message in the hook (that he was later sued for using), “Marvins Room” is a six-minute phone conversation in which Drake drunkenly begs his ex to come back.

On the surface, what Drake discusses are what most rappers brag about — sex, money, wealth. But in “Marvins Room,” Drake seems to view them as obstacles to his ex, who he clearly still isn’t over. When he said he had sex four times this week, he sounds disgusted with himself, not proud.

Drake doesn’t look remotely good in this song; it’s more than a little pathetic. But it feels real and raw and revealing in a way that few R&B ballads are willing to get.

#16: “Pedestrian At Best” by Courtney Barnett (2015)

Courtney Barnett’s grungy masterpiece, “Pedestrian At Best,” is appropriately angsty given its crunchy guitars and yell-y vocals. But the Melbourne singer-songwriter touches on a different kind of angst here than Pearl Jam usually tapped into: the pressure of living up to sky-high expectations.

In the early/mid ‘10s, Barnett was earning lots of hype after witty (and excellent!) early singles like “Avant Gardener” and “History Eraser.” She clearly assumed she’d screw up her debut album following up those breakout songs, as she declares herself “a fake” and “a phony” in “Pedestrian At Best.” 

Arguably her generation’s best lyricist, Barnett nails her expectation to squander the public’s expectations: “Put me on a pedestal and I’ll only disappoint you/Tell me I’m exceptional, I promise to exploit you.” The ironic thing is, she did the opposite. “Pedestrian At Best” is one of the most successful songs about failing.

#15: “Ni**as in Paris” by Jay-Z and Kanye West (2011)

There was some close competition, but I don’t think there was a more quotable rap song this decade than Jay-Z and Kanye West’s crowning achievement from Watch The Throne, “Ni**as in Paris.”

The classic lines don’t stop coming throughout the minimalist banger. Jay’s verse is smooth braggadocio perfected: “I’m liable to go Michael, take your pick: Jackson, Tyson, Jordan, Game 6.” Then Kanye comes crashing in with some truly bizarre bars that are both the dumbest and greatest thing you’ve ever heard. After hearing the song, I never felt the same way about fish filets ever again.

And then, the piece de resistance — Kanye’s inspired Will Ferrell sample from Blades Of Glory. It’s one of the most left-field and iconic moments in hip-hop history, and perfectly described the song itself. “NOBODY KNOWS WHAT IT MEANS. BUT IT’S PROVOCATIVE. IT GETS THE PEOPLE GOING.” Amen.

#14: “Run Away With Me” by Carly Rae Jepsen (2015)

Carly Rae Jepsen deserved to be one of the biggest popstars of all time. She should be selling out the same arenas that Taylor Swift and Beyoncé fill. But, in what is a true tragedy, the British Columbia native is only remembered as being that singer with that one earth-shattering hit and a feverish cult following.

But despite how adorable and fun “Call Me Maybe” is, Jepsen’s true magnum opus is her 2015 album, EMOTION, and its bombastic opening track, “Run Away With Me.” 

The single is a masterclass in blending ‘80s flourishes with modern production. On the thunderous chorus, the EDM synths and roaring saxophone riff work in harmony with Jepsen’s passionate vocals to create pure pop bliss. Combined with the intimate verses, the single perfectly encapsulates that butterfly-feeling of a relationship’s honeymoon stage.

“Run Away With Me” is only one of many, many Jepsen singles that would’ve been #1 smashes in a perfect world. But the lack of chart success for this one especially hurt.

#13: “Formation” by Beyoncé (2016)

Where were you when “Formation” dropped? I bet you probably remember (I was writing an essay in my college’s library).

Sure, Beyoncé’s self-titled 2013 album is the surprise drop that gets all the attention. But “Formation” came out of nowhere too a few years later, and let’s be honest — it was much better. (side note: 4 is also much better than the self-titled)

Mike Will Made It’s beat for “Formation” incorporated some Texas twang into his trap-pop production — a fitting match for a Houston legend like Beyoncé. And Bey takes heat-check shot after heat-check shot here: declaring herself the next Bill Gates; casually dropping a “swag” ad lib and magically not sounding corny as hell; making a trip to a mediocre chain seafood restaurant sound like a cool post-sex reward.

It all works. And that’s because on “Formation,” Beyoncé was as untouchable and fearless as her cutthroat stans had always proclaimed her to be. The fact that it was the triumphant coda to one of the decade’s best pop albums just cements its legend.

#12: “Old Town Road (Remix)” by Lil Nas X and Billy Ray Cyrus (2019)

It’s the longest-running #1 hit in U.S. history. An unstoppable juggernaut that held titans like Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran and Drake from the top of the charts. And, oh yeah — it’s perfect.

There are probably a few party poopers out there who hate “Old Town Road.” I am not one of them. By 2019, pop’s grayscale, Post Malone-fueled gloom had gotten out of hand. Then out of nowhere, this teenage Nicki Minaj Twitter stan writes a goofy novelty song that’s both a parody of country clichés and a sincere celebration of the cowboy lifestyle. (It’s also the greatest country song ever written, and the entire city of Nashville can fight me on that.)

Lil Nas X has a pure charisma other artists would kill for, from his warbly, infectious chorus to his endlessly quotable verse (WRANGLER ON MY BOOTY!!). And pulling Billy Ray Cyrus away from Hannah Montana-funded retirement to drop a shockingly fire verse about living the luxury lifestyle in Beverly Hills? There’s no way this wouldn’t be one of my all-time favorites.

Sometimes, when it comes to predicting future classics, you’ve just got to trust the screaming elementary schoolers.

#11: “Midnight City” by M83 (2011)

“Midnight City” sounds like what Space Mountain feels like.

The decade’s best electronic song is so perfect as to be almost alien, yet also remarkably warm and human. And just when you thought the song couldn’t get better, the second-greatest sax solo of all time (only behind “Jungleland”) bursts out of the neon layers of synth.

M83 has a catalogue stuffed with stunning retro synthpop bangers. The fact that “Midnight City” towers above them all is a testament to the song’s sheer majesty.

#10: “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift (2012)

Yes, I’m aware that this is the obvious Taylor Swift pick for this list. But Swift’s literary masterwork, “All Too Well,” hits me too hard to deny it.

“All Too Well” is so packed with vivid details and intense emotional swings that it feels like more like a short story backed by arena-rock instrumentation more than a pop song. From her an abandoned scarf tucked in a drawer, to her ex’s mother embarrassing him with his dorky child photos, to the phone-call breakup that was “casually cruel in the name of being honest,” Swift didn’t leave anything out.

Coupled with her songwriting, Swift’s vocals also make “All Too Well” her pinnacle. She reaches into her upper register so rarely that it sends shivers whenever she does, like on the emphatic climax here. 

If it catches me in the right mood, Swift’s performance, the lilting guitars and cutting lyrics in “All Too Well” brings a few tears to my eyes. (Yes, really.) It’s only fitting that one of the greatest breakup anthems of all time is sung by a master of the artform.

#9: “Ivy” by Frank Ocean (2016)

I was very tempted to put Frank Ocean’s 10-minute synthpop epic “Pyramids” on the list instead. Make no mistake — if it wasn’t for my self-imposed one-song-per-artist rule, both it and “Ivy” would’ve placed highly.

But “Ivy” is a heart-stopper. It’s a fairly simple song, with just Ocean’s raw vocals playing off the languid guitars. To pull a song like this off, you have to be a double-threat, a genius lyrically and a stunning singer. Ocean fits that bill. 

“Ivy” is the decade’s greatest R&B song, a heartbreaking ode to a slowly crumbling relationship.

#8: “The Edge Of Glory” by Lady Gaga (2011)

Lady Gaga’s best songs hit you like a brick to the face. Gaga — the greatest pop star of the 21st century, don’t @ me — has plenty of pop bangers that do this, particularly on the wildly underrated Artpop (shoutout to the insane and insanely fun “G.U.Y.”). But arguably none of her singles provide as much maximalist pleasures as “The Edge Of Glory.”

The track reeks of trying too hard in the best way possible. Gaga reaches into her upper vocal register frequently, scratching her upper limits every time she reaches the chorus. The production is a messy-but-beautiful jumble of slamming synths and drum machines. And that Clarence Clemons sax solo — one of the last musical contributions he made before his death that same year — is just the icing on top of the gloriously sugary cake.

Gaga’s over-the-top synthpop from her early years isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But for someone like me, who wants pop to feel as massive and inescapable as humanly possible, “The Edge Of Glory” is still a towering high-water mark.

#7: “Pay No Mind” by Beach House (2018)

This spot could’ve been taken by any number of Beach House songs, the modern masters of dream-pop. “Space Song,” “Myth,” “Take Care” — the Baltimore duo honed in on a specific musical style and perfected it.

To me, “Pay No Mind” is the culmination of those years of Beach House subtly tinkering with their hazy, nocturnal sound. It’s like a gothic wedding slow-dance song: the right rhythm and with a romantic feel, but maybe a bit too gloomy for your grandparents. But regardless, “Pay No Mind” is breathtakingly beautiful, like seeing neon lights through the fog.

#6: “m.A.A.d. city” by Kendrick Lamar feat. MC Eiht (2012)

If you haven’t tried to memorize the nearly two-minute uninterrupted opening verse of “m.A.A.d. city,” were you even alive in the early ‘10s?

Kendrick Lamar has written many hip-hop epics in his career so far, but so far none have topped the semi-title track from his major label debut, good kid, m.A.A.d. city. In that concept album about Lamar’s teen years growing up amidst the gang warfare in Compton, “m.A.A.d city” marks the point where the gangsta dream shifts into a horrifying nightmare. 

The song is a blur of murder, violence and police sirens. Lamar sounds positively terrified on the track, his voice cracking while he confesses. And bringing on old-school rapper MC Eiht to play a veteran gang member snapping Lamar out of his haze was a brilliant move. “m.A.A.d city” is an exhilarating tour-de-force that proved how much raw talent, in both flow and storytelling, Lamar had.

#5: “Somebody Else” by The 1975 (2016)

If Vampire Weekend is the most important band of the early ‘10s, then The 1975 is the most important band of the rest of the decade. Their transformation from (really good!) simple pop-rock to tacking incredibly dark subject matter while successfully taste-testing their way through nearly every musical genre was unexpected. And brilliant, seeing as they pulled it off.

But The 1975′s best track is much less capital-I important than most of their epics about Trump or suicide or heroin — it’s a synthpop song about complicated post-breakup emotions. But “Somebody Else” earns its keep as the band’s pinnacle through sheer relatability. It nails that complicated feeling of being over someone...but not really. Or as lead singer Matty Healy puts it bluntly: “I don’t want your body/but I’m picturing your body with somebody else.”

The shuffling drum machine groove and icy synths complete a perfect song for wandering aimlessly at night, longing for a lost love. And although The 1975 might switch sounds endlessly in their career, their sweet spot will always be this moody ‘80s update.

#4: “TiK ToK” by Ke$ha (2010)

“TiK ToK” is still easily the peak of the 2009-12 pop golden age. It has a bit of everything you’d want in a single from that era: Gloriously grimy synths! An uber-catchy chorus with plenty of demands to party! And of course, a charismatic and unforgettable star who can deliver the song. I don’t think anyone would argue Ke$ha fit that role to a T.

When “TiK ToK” first arrived around the turn of the decade, I couldn’t stand it. I thought it was too sleazy. Nearly 10 years later, Ke$ha’s performative sleaziness is exactly what makes this song so fun. Yeah, the hook is bulletproof and the production is buzzy. But Ke$ha’s slurred, drunken delivery and ridiculous lines are what have kept “TiK ToK” in the public consciousness. She single-handedly made P. Diddy and especially Mick Jagger relevant again. She made brushing your teeth with Jack Daniels seem cool (and not insanely nasty, like it actually is). Every single ridiculous line, sung through Ke$ha’s fake valley girl accent, is a gem.

I can understand how someone wouldn’t like the unfiltered debauchery and greasiness of “TiK ToK.” But to me, that’s the entire charm of it, and what makes it stand out amongst a sea of similarly-minded club jams from its era.

#3: “Runaway” by Kanye West feat. Pusha-T (2010)

I was going to ask all of you to forget about Kanye West’s recent stumbles, be it his association with Donald Trump or his insistence that slavery was a choice. But the power of “Runaway” is that it is a semi-apology from a man who knows he’s deeply flawed. Every one of Kanye’s gaffes and terrible decisions makes “Runaway” even more relevant today.

But “Runaway” was originally a response to Kanye’s infamous “Imma let you finish” rant at the 2009 VMAs, where he interrupted Taylor Swift. The song basically operates as a semi-apology to the world for being, as he puts it, a douchebag. An asshole. A scumbag. A jerkoff. He’s somewhat bragging about his misdeeds, while sheepishly asking for forgiveness.

And yet, it’s an extremely vulnerable song. The bridge — “I guess that you’re at an advantage/Cause you can blame me for everything/And I don’t know how Imma manage/If one day you just up and leave” — initially feels like something Kanye is saying to a lover. But really, he’s saying it to all of us. And it’s arguably the most moving moment in his whole career.

#2: “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk feat. Pharrell and Nile Rodgers (2013)

Don’t think about it too hard, folks. 

Considering that Daft Punk are the greatest dance-music artists of all time, it only makes sense that they’d dip their toes into disco and absolutely KILL it. And that’s all “Get Lucky” is. Two French masters making their grand comeback by recruiting one of funk’s finest guitarists and one of the 2000s’ most charismatic vocal presences. 

“Get Lucky” will be a wedding dance staple until the sun explodes. And it deserves that status. It’s a flawless dance track. Just embrace the groove.

#1: “Archie, Marry Me” by Alvvays (2014)

My favorite song of the 2010s wasn’t a part of some major trend. It wasn’t particularly influential. It doesn’t have any profound meaning, and it didn’t try to tackle a major event. “Archie, Marry Me” just happens to be the greatest indie pop song ever written.

Every little aspect of Toronto band Alvvays’ debut single works, from the surf-y guitars to lead singer Molly Rankin’s monotone-yet-yearning vocals. With its lo-fi ramshackle charm and monster hook, “Archie, Marry Me” is all you could want in a dream-pop single. It even has the nice touch of echoing a Neil Young classic in the chorus.

The whole intention of this list — as it is with any of my year-end lists — is simply to measure which songs made me the happiest; which songs never wore out on me. And no single this decade puts a bigger smile on my face than “Archie, Marry Me.” It’s simple, achingly romantic (in a Wes Anderson-esque half-ironic way, but still), and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

[doomedandstoned]

Closer To The End (part II)

~By Billy Goate~

Art by Ruso Tsig

Everyone has bouts of sadness, loneliness, heartache. For better or worse, it's a part of the human condition. There was some discussion after my last article about whether depression is something we can choose to walk into or away from -- like a bad attitude -- or whether in some people it may be more deeply ingrained in the psychological makeup, whether by nature or nurture. I thought it would be helpful to give you a window into my own background so you can understand when depression first made itself manifest and the different strategies taken to deal with it over the years.

Banished from this world, and from its toil I can only watch, grieve and pity Stare at stupid likes, wonder at people's smiles

I get more and more stress Nothing anyone can offer, more or less Done grieving, closer to the end

DON'T KNOW WHY

I vaguely recall spells of melancholy in childhood. The return from summer camp to a boring home with mom vacuuming and dad at work had me feeling quite empty and blue. It was a strange, bewildering state of mind to be in. Mom told me to snap out of it or else. There were a few moments that shattered my reality as a child. Realizing, for instance, that mom and dad were having marital problems. Hearing my pastor of a father say a swear word. Often, I would be startled awake in the dead of night to my mom shrieking at my dad, throwing dishes, insisting that he was against her. My dad was a patient man and knew that all was not right in her world. These things jolted me into new layers of reality, each accompanied by periods of moodiness and anxiety.

By the time I was in the 4th grade, I started having trouble in school. I was placed in one of those "talented and gifted" programs, though I never really understood why. I knew I couldn't see what my teachers were writing on the chalkboard. Panicked, I would ask students nearby what the hell the teacher was writing, only to be scolded for distracting the class. One particular teacher was downright mean to me, until she found out that I was having vision problems and needed glasses. Once she realized I was also the son of a preacher man, she tripped all over herself to be kind. Maybe she felt guilty?

Something else odd happened around this time. I came home with division homework one day and just decided not to do it. I don't remember if it was because my parents were too busy to help or I was just too stubborn to ask. There was no rational reason for it. The next day, I was shamed in front of the entire class by an Admiral Ackbar looking mother fucker named Mr. Davis. "Billy Joe, why didn't you do your homework?" he demanded. "Why?" His hand lifted my chin, forcing me to stare up into his beady little eyes peering menacingly behind his spectacles. Mr. Davis' rosy complexion turned beat red when I answered: "I...don't know."

I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know who I am

I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know who to be

SATANIC PANIC

My parents were tethered to a particularly pernicious strain of fundamentalist Christianity that got caught up in the "Satanic Panic" of the 1980s. That meant no D&D for me! Urban legends were shared in Sunday school and from the pulpit about young people who had necked because their character "died" in this forbidden game. It was the most sinister proxy for evil that I could envision at that time.

The Satanic Panic put everything else under the microscope: toys, comic books, and popular music were all suspect. A copy of Phil Phillip's 1986 "expose" Turmoil In The Toybox lay on the coffee table, pages well-worn and highlighted. He-Man, G.I. Joe, even Star Wars were viewed as tools of the Devil to recruit a desensitized generation of youth into his heathen horde. I'd wake up from one day to learn about something else I couldn't have, play, watch, or do. Video games would not be far behind.

One day, my mother caught me rocking out to the Scorpions in my room and immediately confiscated my radio, outlawing metal from the house (and basically anything with a rock 'n' roll beat). MTV lasted only long enough for me to be exposed to Metallica's visceral "One" and Guns 'n' Roses' "Welcome To The Jungle." While the classic days of rock's infancy were viewed as a time of innocence (I don't think my folks really got what "Blueberry Hill" by Fats Domino was about), anything stemming from the late '60s counterculture forward was viewed as dangerously corrupting.

Various factions within the church began playing games of connect-the-dots with the songs of Jefferson Airplane, Led Zeppelin, and Black Sabbath, tying them into a subservice plot by Luciferian cults and the shadowy elite (at that time Communists -- a favorite boogeyman of the era) who were trying to undermine undermining of God, family, and country by subverting its youth. All of popular culture was roped in with the conspiracy, too. Though the house was cleansed of its ungodly influence, the worst was still ahead.

Soon, my mother started cutting me off from neighborhood friends and finally pulled me out of public school altogether around middle of 5th grade. She had learned about this radical new response to America's failing education system through friends from another church who had just taken their own children out of school. Emboldened, she began homeschooling us in West Texas in the mid '80s, during a time when it wasn't a clearly legal practice. Every time the doorbell rang my siblings and I would run and hide, thinking the truant officer had come to take us away to foster care. I didn't understand at the time what I do now: my mother was mentally ill. Furthermore, she was in over her head. This became apparent when she tried to take on the role of teacher.

While I am extraordinarily grateful for the year or two of solid education she gave me (particularly in the writing and public speaking departments, two areas she and my father were naturally gifted in and which have been the buttress of my career), it wasn't long until she became frustrated with the Abeka and Bob Jones University curriculum we were using. One day, when I was struggling with algebra, she declared that we wouldn't have to learn it. "After all, who actually uses algebra in daily life?" she wondered. We were now self-directed learners, a radical new idea that was controversial even in the homeschooling movement ("un-schooling," they called it). Of course, I wasn't allowed to just sit around and watch TV. Consequently, I shifted my focus to the things that were more interesting to me: music, art, history. Math and science? Not so much.

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

For years, I remained blithely unaware of what was happening in the world around me in the world of music. I lived in Arlington during the rise of Pantera, Topeka during one of Guns ‘n’ Roses most controversial shows, and Oregon during the height of the grunge era and the sunsetting of the Grateful Dead -- all of it veiled from notice. My life was devoted to church and, if anything, I tried to convince fellow Christians to separate themselves from the tainted allure of the fool’s gold of popular music, television, and video games. For a while, I was a true believer. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, if you like. Infractions of the moral code -- and the slightest temperament of rebellion -- were met with a freshly cut switch, which would leave stinging welts up and down my calves, tights, arms, and back. Thus my conscience was conditioned.

I remember happening upon the pornographic scene in George Orwell’s 1984 and afterwards feeling that the only right and proper thing to assuage my guilt was to burn the everlasting shit out of this smut. Even then I loved the novel, but I couldn't reconcile my faith with this section of it, so I purged it in the flame of backyard trash barrels. At my most fervent, I also lit the match to a stack of MAD Magazines and comic books. As harmless as they might have seemed to the average Joe blinded to the wiles of the Devil, these were gateways into realms of the flesh. “Walk in the spirit, not the flesh,” I recited to myself as fire brandished the yellowed pages of print, slowly turning them black until they were embers caught up by the wind and scattered into the sky. True story: I once threw away a perfectly good copy of Downward Spiral after one hearing the demonic screams of "Becoming" (not to mention the brash blasphemy of "Heretic").

The me that you know doesn't come around much That part of me isn't here anymore

The me that you know is now made up of wires And even when I'm right with you I'm so far away

This kind of extreme separation from the world really fucked me up socially. For years, I couldn't hold on a conversation with another person my age. What would we talk about? I was clueless about anything happening in the world of sports, music, television, or the culture at large. Even though conversation is no longer a problem for me, I still feel odd about friendships. I have an irrational fear that they're going to be taken away from me at any moment, so I keep everyone at a comfortable arm's length. At times, intimacy feels painfully awkward.

Maybe this is why I'm so notorious for leaving shows immediately following the last song. I’ll give my smiles, shake hands, and say goodbye, but avoid sticking around long enough to really get to know people. I’ve been invited to crash on couches to avoid the long drive home, but I always politely decline. Certainly, I don’t want to come across as rude, I just feel like an outsider to the world -- someone who just doesn’t fit in, doesn't belong. Not now, not ever.

TEENAGE ANGST HAS PAID OFF WELL

As I reached my adolescent years, I began going through prolonged spells of melancholy. The prospect of sharing this with others was extraordinarily embarrassing, so I kept it all bottled up inside. Mostly, I tried walking it out on long excursions through the open field next to our house. I worked through a lot of issues during that time and credit those walks with helping me to keep my sanity. As a matter of fact, I recommend daily constitutionals to everyone as a general principle of good mental health. It would be a mistake not to mention that my belief in an omnipresent God at this time played a medicinal role in helping me to cope with my depression, though my views on religion would one day reverse course.

By 18, symptoms of major depression surfaced like a noxious weed and even God could not get me through it. I prayed, too. God, how I prayed, sometimes hours on end. That year, I fell into a downcast mood that refused to dissipate and remained there for months -- four of them straight. I sought refuge in the music of Tchaikovsky, working my way from the fateful Symphony No. 4 to his Symphony No. 6, the Pathétique. The sounds I was hearing tapped into a new emotional alphabet, impossible to transcribe into any tongue. It was remarkable: somehow the music knew precisely what I was feeling. I finally had a soundtrack to my depression.

One day, a buddy and I joined the military on a whim, though he'd later get disqualified for asthma. I felt the Army would provide a much needed "Be All You Can Be" boost to my confidence and a crash course in normie life. I shipped down range to my duty station, Fort Benning, Georgia, for infantry training. My new home would be with Charlie Company, 2nd Battalion, 58th Infantry Regiment -- the infamous "House of Pain." In the space of 14 weeks, I was exposed to every aspect of humanity imaginable. From the "shark attack" welcome of the drill sergeants on Sand Hill to the rude middle of the night awakenings for physical training, I was in shock most of the time. Slowly, though, I eased into this strange new world and got my bearings.

Almost a full month into this prison world, we were allowed to visit one of the on-base shopping exchanges. I immediately looked for a CD player and began checking out the music section, trying to see if there were names I recognized. "Guns 'n' Roses? Sure they're cool," shrugged my buddy Bradley, a floppy-eared Gomer Pyle looking dude. "But you really need to check out some Soundgarden, dude." I did, picking up their latest, Down On The Upside, and it was like salve to my soul. The music spoke of being trapped ("...and I don't like what you've got me hanging from") and being eternally at odds with the world ("Born without a friend and bound to die alone"). There was even a song about "Boot Camp," the short album closer. The nihilistic despair was strangely comforting.

I must obey the rules I must be tame and cool No staring at the clouds I must stay on the ground In clusters of the mice The smoke is in our eyes Like babies on display Like Angels in a cage I must be pure and true I must contain my views There must be something else There must be something good far away Far away from here And I'll be there for good For good

The song did not resolve happily, and I feared my life wouldn't either. After a serious injury left me permanently wounded, I began to feel my life wasn't being guided by the Hand of God of all, but the random throes of Fate. Maybe they were the same thing. I resigned myself to the misery of a long recovery, during which time I had to learn to walk again. It's a three beer kind of story, maybe I'll share it sometime. Probably not. Returning to civilian life proved to be even more of an adjustment than the military had been, and my shadows of depression lingered with me even as I tried to remain one step ahead of them.

MELANCHOLIA

I have long held a theory that human beings are not built for the world that we have constructed for ourselves. Whether we're talking Seattle traffic or the constant buzz of social media, the frantic pace of our rapidly evolving technocracy has left us a worried, frazzled mess. The studies are conclusive: almost one in five have experienced depression and one in four struggle with anxiety, with PTSD being a household acronym.

A counselor once asked if I enjoyed being depressed. I found it a bit of a repulsive question. I can tell you that there is nothing glamorous about depression. There's no reason to idolize the angst of those sad Kurt Cobain eyes. Everyone has experienced feelings of being bummed out, and for most folks it is a transitory feeling. It comes when one of life's storms arises and leaves when the situation resolves itself. There's a whole section of us, however, for whom the dark clouds never leaves. It just hovers around our heads, like the oppressive, low-hanging specter of an Oregon winter.

Depression isn't always about feeling sad, either. Often it manifests in a general malaise -- you can't bring yourself to care about the things you used to. Other times, it works in tandem with anxiety, seizing your heart at the thought of all the day holds in store, then punishing you with the feeling of dread. We may feel sad, anxious, or fearful and not be able to give a rational explanation for it. In those moments, I cannot imagine a more miserable place to be. With that said, I hasten to add that my description of depression may not align with your own, as it is an intensely personal experience.

Release your head from the world Keep yourself underground No one understands your mind

Humans programmed like robots Making sure you don't belong No one understands your mind

I suspected I had depression in the clinical sense, when I realized that though I wanted to feel better, all I could do was subsist in the misery. Those of you who've been able to talk yourself out of such states will scoff. My mother, who suffers from a host of afflictions that have never been properly diagnosed, was notorious for telling us kids to "snap out of it." I do understand that kind of no-nonsense perspective. Her father and mother were staunchly independent homesteaders of the WWII generation who braved the untamed wilderness of Alaska and the exotic dangers of Australia. The '60s and '70s generation grew up fearful of losing such independence to mental institutions that locked up people, merely because they acted in ways society didn’t understand. The stigma of psychiatric care was every bit as real as the stigma of mental illness. Thus, her approach was quite practical: take Saint John's Wort, get on a good diet of vegetables and fruits, drink plenty of water, get fresh air and exercise. If that doesn’t work, there’s always Jesus.

Despite plenty of prayer and a multitude of home remedies, depression continued plaguing my mind. People frustrated by what they viewed as an easy fix would imply that depressed folk like me just wanted to be depressed, maybe because it got them attention or they were just spoiled rotten. Soon I stopped sharing altogether. As one friend of mine, a real no-nonsense type, told me: “No one cares. You have to get on with your life.” “How do you manage that?” I asked. “What's your secret?” “You just have to shrug it off,” she concluded. I envied the cold, pragmatic stoicism and wished that I could just shrug my shoulders and let everything slide off. At one point, my depression was so acute, I looked into electroconvulsive therapy, memory loss be damned. During my consultation with a specialist, I learned the procedure had advanced since Jack Nicholson’s unfortunate end as a mental patient in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. Ultimately, I decided against it.

SEARCH FOR ANSWERS

As with most human situations, our problems stem from a complex mixture of nature and nurture. I posed a question to my psychology professor one day: "Does depression cause us to think depressing thoughts or do depressing thoughts cause us to be in a state of depression?" His answer surprised and relieved me. "Both," he said.

In Psychology 202, we were in the midst of a chapter on depression and other mental disorders. Having recently experienced the loss of my grandmother, I was feeling especially hopeless and decided to ask my prof another burning question at the end of class. "If a person were to see a therapist, does it go on his record?" In my mind, counseling was for the weak and hideously broken. "Not at all," he responded with a smile. "Even psychologists seek help from other psychologists for their depression and anxiety." Then he really blew my mind: "I have a therapist myself. See her once a month. Sort through a lot of life decisions that way." He also assured me that there was no master file of such visits. While a therapist might keep her own notes, it's certainly not something shared with employers and as a rule is kept strictly confidential, as are all medical records.

My first visit to a counselor was nothing like I'd imagined. I wasn't given pills, invited to lay on a couch and look at ink blots, or even asked questions about my parents. Instead, the counselor initiated an open-ended conversation that encouraged me to articulate the tangled mess of thoughts and feelings I'd been bottling up inside. It was the first time I'd ever talked about my experiences in the military or about the emotional upheaval of my childhood. I felt liberated after just a few weeks of these sessions. For a time, I felt very much on top of my problems. Maybe this counseling thing wasn't so bad after all. I even began to recommend it to my friends and stood up for psychologists when mom would bash the profession in one of her trademark rants.

Promises abound You rarely find it to begin Maybe I'm afraid To let you all the way in

I excuse myself I'm used to my little cell I amuse myself In my very own private hell

I noticed a pattern to my depression: it seemed to be triggered by situations in which I felt helplessly incapable of controlling my environment, decisions, and destiny. You know, other people taking advantage of me, a nightmare roommate, an overbearing boss, unrequited love -- that sort of thing. It was like a switch flipped and all of the sudden the feelings flooded in and surrounded me for days, even weeks.

Feelings of loneliness and disquiet were often compounded by negative thinking about the situation. "What's wrong with me that I can't find someone to be with? Am I that unattractive or uninteresting?" The negative self-talk wasn't helping my situation. In some ways, it even turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'd walk around with a scowl on my face, prompting friends and family to constantly ask, "What's wrong? Is everything ok?" That's why I realized it may take more muscles to frown than to smile, but that undersmile sure is a lot more comfortable. No wonder people kept themselves at bay.

I actually started practicing my smile in the rearview mirror on the way to school every day, just so I remembered what that felt like. Fake it 'til you make it, the saying goes. Even if I was feeling like a miserable wretch inside, I certainly didn't want to betray those feelings to the world outside. So I got good at being a fake. When people asked, "How's it going?" I'd say, "Fine, just fine, thanks. And you?" (One of my counselors would later call me on that every session: "How are things really?").

When I got married, depression reached peak levels, only now that oppressive, low-hanging cold front wouldn't burn off with the sunshine. The mood never lifted. It was with me 24-7. It wasn't unusual for me to be severely depressed during the normally halcyon days of summer. I knew something had to be done, so I confronted another long-time stigma of mine: medication.

To be continued...

This whole house of cards crumbling slow If I disappear would you even know? The trap is time and no one gets off of this ride alive

So far under Too much pain to tell And now I'm ripped asunder So far under

[camakazi96]

Cinematic - Alt Version

ABSOLUTELY LOVING CINEMATIC! Of course, after listening to it the first time, I had to try rearranging the songs to make an interesting alternative track listing (not that I dislike the original order). So here it is, in an order I think would work well as a telling of a movie-like story. Forgive the length of this post, got really into telling the story X)

1 | The 5th of July: Opening scene, Adam is born surrounded by family who we see adore him and know instantly will play an important part of his life in supporting him.

Title Card: Owl City presents Cinematic

2 | All My Friends (opt. Alt Version): Montage of Adam growing up with a few of his closest friends, doing things like hanging out after school, skating, making some James Bond inspired home videos. They’ve all got dreams, and as they approach the end of high school they know it’s up to them to make it happen. On the day of their graduation, they plan one last outing together before they go off their separate ways...

3 | New York City: ...and that outing is a road trip to New York City. The trip is a blast of a time, and Adam is enthralled by the big city - quite typical when you’ve grown up in the country. Full of wonder, he thinks maybe one day he’ll make a city like this one his home (and he will in a figurative way). Towards the end of the sequence, we smoothly swap from a sprawling city to a open countryside in juxtaposition...

4 | Montana (opt. Alt Version): Jump back a few decades in sparsely populated Montana, a different young man is getting lost not in the big city, but in nature. This story isn’t just about one person after all. Bill Olmstead builds a home for what will become his family, particularly featuring his two children, a boy and girl.

5 | Not All Heroes Wear Capes: Jumping back to Adam, who has returned home and is working an unextraordinary job that’s left him feeling a bit directionless in life. But then he looks to his dad for support, who’s always been a huge inspiration for him. Wanting to emulate what he sees in his dad, he set’s out to follow his heart and live true to himself.

6 | Winners Never Quit: And what his heart is telling him is to pursue music. He’s always loved the medium for creative expression, and as a person he’s unique in his whimsy poetic way of seeing the world - which in the past may have made him feel a bit like an outsider, but here, through music, allows him to thrive. But making it as a musician is a tough gig, and it’ll take plenty of determination and resilience if he wants to make it as one. He sits himself down in his chair, practices the guitar, and starts pumping out songs.

7 | Lucid Dream: Putting your all into something comes at a cost though. All these thoughts running through his head, and he hasn’t got the time to put it all down on the page. They race through his mind late at night, keeping him up, and - when he does drift of - turning his dreams into vivid tapestries of surreal experiences. One night he wakes up after a lucid dream, and starts to write a song about it. We see him recording it in his basement and finally uploading it online to what we now see is his MySpace account with multiple other songs he’s been uploading along the way.

8 | Firebird (opt. Alt Version): Cutting back to Montana, we’re in a white truck (names Troy apparently), with muffled ‘Fireflies’ playing on the radio, but this fades into ‘Firebird’. Bill’s two children Billy and Abbey have grown up over the years and find themselves going off in different directions. As Abbey reflects on her younger years with her brother, she makes peace with the fact that everything changes, and though that’s what leaves room for wonderful new experiences, she knows a part of them will always belong to the old days that they’ll remember fondly. The scene ends with Billy moving away to start a family of his own.

9 | Fiji Water: One morning Adam checks his emails and sees one in his Inbox that he can’t believe he’s reading (scans lines saying “...e’d like to offer you a record deal...”, “...fly you into New York to discuss the contra...”, “You’re lucky break has arrived!”). And truly Adam can’t believe his luck. But as the big weekend arrives, and everything unfolds like in a dream, part of Adam doesn’t like the way this whole deal is heading. How much will he have to give up to keep the support of these guys? A voice of wisdom, as if from his older self, tells him to pass it up and wait for the offer that’s right for him. After all, if he’s getting acknowledgement from a label this big, it can’t just be luck.

10 | Always: As Adam arrives back home in Owatonna, he stops to wonder if he’s just made a huge mistake. What if that was his one big chance? But of course, he didn’t get to where his now on hopes alone. He has faith in God, which he learned from his parents and shared with his friends, and that’s what’s going to get him through any future trials and lead him to the life he’s meant to live. We finish the scene with Adam praying at night, as he looks up to the light coming in through the window with a face of equal parts determination and contentment.

11 | House Wren: Moving forward a bit of time, Adam’s music has taken off, not on the huge scale it might of with the record company, but popular with a devoted circle of fans that have allowed him to quit his day job. He’s decided it’s time to move on from his parent’s home and find his own place to call his own. Thus begins a fun sequence in which Adam compares himself to a House Wren.

At the same time we see Abbey, who has also decided it’s time for her to find a change of scenery, not wanting to sell souvenirs for her whole life. We get the sense now that these two’s stories might intertwine.

By chance or fate, we see them both picking houses in the same tow: Adam moving in on his own, and Abbey with a close friend of hers.

12 | Be Brave: Adam is so grateful for the success he’s found, but still finds his work which is mostly online-based to be a bit isolating. He’s struggled to find connection since his friends left town after high-school, and finds himself feeling lonely. And well... you know how the rest of the song plays out (might I suggest a Star Wars film be on-screen at the cinema, for some continuity with the last song on the album :p ).

13 | Madeline Island: Adam and Abbey have met, and found an instant spark of connection. On a whim, they decide they should go on a camping trip together to get to know each other a little better. They chart a course to Madeline Island, which they’ve both never gone to see despite meaning to. They also invite along Abbey’s housemate and a friend of Adam’s who recently reached out and reconnected with him (I think he said his name is Matt (T?)) for extra company. During the trip, Adam thinks back to the events that led him here, and he feels hopeful while he and Abbey look up towards the stars at the end of the song.

14 | Cloud Nine: The sky returns to a day blue with plenty of bright clouds up there. In the last scene of the movie, we get to see Adam and Abbey spending more time together, Adam continuing his music career, and both their lives becoming more closely involved with one another. There is, and will always be, ups and downs, but they make each other happy. In a world where happy endings almost feel like a myth, or a cop-out, and where perhaps the best we can ask for is a hopeful ending, this is one of the happiest hopeful endings there is.

15 | Cinematic: Roll credits, with fun animations in the background to the uplifting lines of the title track. Some of these animations include characters from some of the films Adam’s written songs for (To The Sky, Wreck It Ralph, The Smurfs, Shine Your Way, and heck put some Oreos in there too), past Owl City music videos, and during that last little pop culture reference in the song get Adam holding up a lightsaber in a really heroic pose. The acknowledgements include all of Adam and Abbey’s family and friends who supported them to get to where they are. Maybe they’ll misspell Breanne Duren’s name in the credits ‘accidentally’ as a reference to Maybe I’m Dreaming’s album liner. The last line of the credits is “Adam Young is Owl City”.

And that’s it, the movie’s over. No post-credits scene or anything like that, but plenty of room for a sequel. Any of the songs with alternative versions can use either and it fits pretty well - I personally prefer to use the original of Firebird, and the alternative versions of the other two (simply because Breanne Duren <3 and the Sky Sailing sound of Alt Montana). Another option is to keep all the main version of the songs in the actual movie, and save the alternative versions for additional credits songs.

Note: Madeline Island and New York City could potentially be swapped around as the two road trip songs in the album, but ultimately I like New York far from the end because it sounds a lot like Cinematic at times, and three really electronic songs right at the end might be a bit much.

Anyway, those are my two cents. No matter how you listen to it, hope you Hoot Owls are all enjoying the songs :D

[erhiem]

Billie Eilish’s second album, happier than ever, is out now.

Courtesy of Artist

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Courtesy of Artist

Billie Eilish’s second album, happier than ever, is out now.

Courtesy of Artist

Billie Eilish has a message to the world: “I’m not your friend / Or anything, damn / You think you’re the man / I think, therefore, I am.Still just 19, the pop supernova has spent the past few years leading a very public life. She’s won seven Grammys in two consecutive years, circles around her peers Board The Hot 100 became a statistic of further discussion and scrutiny, some of it perhaps a little too familiar.

His second full-length album, happier than ever, is out now. like its predecessor, When we all fall asleep, where do we go?, it is a collaboration with his brother and producer, Phineas O’Connell. But after a career debut like few others, Eilish’s style continues to evolve: new sounds (including a whirl in a bossa nova-inspired groove), a new visual toolkit, and a worldwide stage as a very young woman. Songs shaped by experiences.

Eilish talks to NPR’s Lulu Garcia-Navarro about where happier than ever Finds him and his outlook on life, fame and performance. Listen to the radio version at the audio link, and read on for the edited transcript.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity..

Lulu García-Navarro: You had great success with your first album, and there’s always a lot of pressure for a second album after that. did you feel that way?

What’s interesting is that I didn’t feel any pressure to make the album. I was not worried; I was super confident. I really felt like I did the best I possibly could with a second album: I wasn’t doing exactly the same thing, but I didn’t change anything else, I grew. I thought it was really good. this was when i started released Music from the album, putting out singles, that all of a sudden I was like, “Wait.”

[Laughs] “People are going Listen For this?”

Yes! “People are going to listen and tell me how they perception Now? No!” But, that’s okay. It’s really just about liking me and getting real fans to like it. That’s all I care about.

this album is called happier than ever. So, how are you: Are you happier than ever? why did you say it like that?

I mainly wanted a title for my album with, like, non-mispronunciation. I think it was a strong, easy to pronounce, easy to say, not-to-be-misunderstood title. [But the song it’s named after] One of my favorite songs on the album. This is one of the most important songs I’ve ever written.

tell me why What is this song about?

Have you ever wanted to say something to someone for a long time? You really don’t know what you want to say or how to say it – and then maybe you have a conversation with someone else, or you think about it a little bit, and you know exactly what you need to do. Have been trying to say this the whole time? It felt like: that whole writing process, that recording process. Everything included in this song felt like how it feels when you find the words for something.

Is it about a special someone, or is it more about the feeling when you really understand something about your relationship?

I mean, obviously it’s about someone, but it’s also really about a feeling and a kind of feeling. I mainly hope people listen to it and go, “Oh yeah – he is What am I trying to say?”

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You’re 19 now, and you’ve been in the public eye for a while. Tell me about the songHot“

You can understand it just by listening, I would say. I think it was a moment to be really angry as a young woman in the public eye: You know, it’s infuriating. being a young woman is hard enough No You are in the public eye, and just a lot of people are looking at you… let alone being famous and having millions of people constantly looking at you. It’s just thoughts coming from a place of anger and injustice and feeling angry at the world and society, I guess.

However, what have you learned about dealing with that glare? I mean, what do you do to make a living?

I honestly don’t know. I guess you can’t do much. … it’s like, if you’re going to the dentist to get your wisdom teeth checked, and they give you anesthesia and then you say to yourself, ‘I’m not going to sleep, I’m not going to sleep’ Am, ‘You can’t sleep. … you just have to keep going and not be afraid to live, I guess. And I wish I could take my own advice in that realm, no matter what. You can change, and you can change your mind, which I think the Internet forgets.

And I mean, you’re changing: You’ve changed your look recently, you’ve been experimenting with different types of music on this album. I want to ask about your beauty, how you view clothing and appearance in your art – and if you see it as part of the music, and how you interact with people who love your music. We do.

With the aesthetics and eras of a musician or artist, it’s all just for the eyes.. It’s not really real. I think you can definitely change your look to try to change yourself. But in terms of album promos, and photo shoots there’s a certain genre – that doesn’t change you. It’s just a substitute for something you want to accomplish visually, you know? I did the same thing for my first album: I chose a look and an aesthetic and a style specifically for that album, and all the shoots and stuff included in the video, I wanted it to be kind of creepy. , more like the theme of horror and darkness and monsters under your bed.

For this I needed old Hollywood and pretty and classy themes. It’s just funny that people see new photo shoots and immediately think you’re a different person. I see people call me Blonde Billy – like, “Blonde Billy said this, but Green Billy didn’t.” And I’m like, what the fuck? I am not a person category. I am the same person, for the rest of my life. I like this thing this time, and I like this thing at that time.

Up to that point, the songnot my responsibility” is saying something similar with its title – that is, everything you see is about you, not me. Am I right in interpreting it this way?

Yes to be sure. And this goes for many different things. This applies to all women who wear whatever they want and a man says, “Oh, don’t expect me to bother you if you’re wearing this.” It’s like, no—it’s your responsibility not to disturb me. It is no one’s responsibility to cover up or restrict or restrict oneself to the weak will of someone else. This is not our job.

There’s a lot in this album about femininity and what you’re talking about, the way it can be twisted, the way it can be taken advantage of. when the songyour power“Was released, I sent this to a group of my female friends and relatives, because I think it speaks to something that a lot of girls and women have dealt with. When did you realize that every girl, every woman , is there a story where they were taken advantage of?

I don’t even know when I realized it. The song is kind of from a point of view, like… it wasn’t a real situation in my life, but I thought it would be interesting to write it as if I were talking to someone I was friends with or my family, or someone. Someone I knew, and they were abusing their power. And I was talking heart to heart with them, trying not to tell them.

It’s about many, many different situations that I’ve seen. Some lines are about my life, some lines are about things I’ve seen, some lines are general things I’ve seen about women taking advantage. And it’s a crazy thing and I wish I had to hear a song like this when I was little.

youtube

We must say, there are happy songs in here too – about love, the good part of connecting, the empowering part of being with someone. I really want to go to Billy Bossa Nova because I lived in Brazil, so I’m very glad to hear that. Have you been to Brazil?

No, i did not do it!

Oh you have to go.

It’s like the main place I should go. The first fan account I ever had was Billie Eilish Brazil. Actually.

Oh wow

I have a very special place in my heart for Brazil. I wanted to respect bossa nova and the whole culture of Brazil and its surroundings because I love it so much. I don’t know, I just like a little feel-good, you know, go around feeling, sexy little song.

And you just made a lot of people happy in Brazil, I can tell you right now… the last thing I want to talk about is “my futureThere’s a line in the song that says, “I’m in love with my future / I can’t wait to meet her.” I couldn’t stop thinking about it, it’s a really interesting line. why did you write it?

Thank you. I love that line too. I think it means a lot. I think the most direct meaning is the future I am, the future person I am going to be – but also the future world I am going to live in and the future friends and future people I will surround myself with. It is not really about wishing for the present and the past and wishing to be in the future, but about being hopeful and satisfied with the idea of ​​change. And I can’t wait to see what’s in it.

Well what do you want now? I mean, you conquered the world in every way. What do you want when you see this?

good question I want happiness and contentment with myself. I want to feel better about myself, and more than that, I feel proud of who I am. I don’t know what my future holds, but I really want to do the show – that’s the main thing I look forward to and see for myself.

What does it do for you when you’re performing?

There is no feeling on stage in front of people that you really like you and that someone you like is just looking at you and you are watching them. … I never feel like I’m above anyone when I’m on stage: I feel the same way with them, and I feel like I want to impress them and have fun with them. I never want to spend that much time doing the show again, thank you so much.

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The post Billie Eilish On ‘Happier Than Ever,’ Changing Styles And Growing Up In Public : NPR appeared first on Spicy Celebrity News.

[opaeka]

Personal Branding in Music

As a media professional you learn that your personal values, strengths, and weaknesses take the driver's seat, media ethics are your GPS, innovations are the hills and your personal branding is your destination. Though my journey is only beginning, this essay will discuss these factors in detail and how they affect my future career in Music.  

It begins, I’m sitting in my metaphorical car ready to begin my professional journey. Though I know how to use a map I reach for the convenience of my phone and punch in my destination. A pop up appears the GPS lets me know of cameras littering my route. As a media professional, the cameras are your audience and for these cameras, you have a responsibility to protect the more vulnerable. This is achieved by a group of rules. These rules are called media ethics and they outline the moral principles that media professionals have to abide by. These include but are not confined to issues such as stereotyping, obscenity, racism and sharing graphics, ideas and words that are triggering or disturbing (Chandler & Munday, 2011).

In the music industry, these rules are notoriously blurred with artists openly utilising themes like suicide, murder, and racism. It is in this industry though where the normal rules of ethics can cross the line between censorship and education. An example of this is Billie Holiday’s 1939 song Strange Fruit which was widely banned from U.S. radio play because it discussed the racially motivated hanging of two African-Americans (Newman, 2016). This outraged the mainstream public who questioned the morals around discussing something so graphic. But this was something historically founded, during the period of 1882-1968 over 3,466 African-Americans were lynched (“History of Lynchings", 2016). The banning subsequently glazed over the issue and removed the chance for conversations about racism to emerge.

In 2018, music artists are constantly dangling between what is morally questionable. It can even be suggested that some artists are utilising the line as a marketing tool. Notably, artists like Kanye West with his monster video that depicted death, Tyler the Creator who utilised dark themes in his lyrics and imagery and Madonna’s utilisation of religious theming. Though this is the only snippet of modern artists it is not uncommon for musicians at some point in their careers are known to stray away from morally sound imagery and music.  

As a participant in the industry and also a person who struggles anxiety and depression media ethics play a big role in how I conduct myself. My personal branding and values press against the importance of being honest and transparent. But when expressing myself in my art I have to be mindful that I'm taking into account how moral and sensitive my expressions are. On the other hand, although it is important that media ethics and moral responsibility are applied to practicing music industry professionals. It is critical to always exist between the line of compassionate expression and not withholding art that could consequently move society forward.

The road of a media professional twists and turns and it is never blessed with a straight line. Cameras are on you and your moves are watched and criticised. While you are driving along you reach a hill. It is quite large and the sun is non-existent above it. Over the hill, a loud commotion can be heard of a small group of people. These are people who have looked past the fear of the unknown. They have jumped at the chance to improve, change or completely remove a  product for the betterment of the industry.  

When pursuing a new idea, method or product you are almost always in the dark. This pursuit of the new is the definition of innovation. Innovation can be categorised into four different types these are, architectural, radical, incremental and disruptive. Architectural is the reconfiguration of an existing product and applying them to a new market (Lopez, 2015). An example is the Toshiba laptops which were molded from the original IBM, Compaq and Dell computers but prioritised portability over performance (Lopez, 2015). Radical innovation is the introduction of a product that gives birth to an industry or consumes an existing one. Notably, an example of this type of innovation is the invention of the airplane prompting the commercial air travel industry to prosper. Incremental innovations are small changes to existing products that add value to customers. These are upgrades to websites, apps, and programs. Lastly, disruptive innovations are products introduced into their subsequent markets but begin not fully up to standard with competitors. Netflix is one such product beginning it’s life as an internet DVD rental service eventually putting all their competitors out of business (Lopez, 2015).

In the last ten years, nothing has been more monumental to the music industry than streaming services (Divekar, 2016). An example of disruptive innovation streaming services in 2017 made music distribution companies 1bn dollars (Wolfson, 2018). Additionally, streaming services have single-handedly created revenues for artists who would not otherwise. This is because instead of a lump sum received from CD sales, streaming services provide a way for artists to get paid as long as the music is on their platforms (Wolfson, 2018). Along with being a  disruptive innovation, streaming services like Spotify, Apple Music, and Soundcloud are examples of process innovation changing the way music and music services are created and delivered. This is illustrated by artists who make music to cater to particular streaming service playlists. Releasing acoustic covers, reggae, and rap versions of their songs (Wolfson, 2018).  

Similarly, another disruptive innovation is Facebook which leads the way for the creation of many other platforms like Instagram, Youtube & Twitter. It is undoubtedly a powerful force in the greater media climate with 2.61 users worldwide (Statista, 2017). Access to this large audience coupled with the fact that it is widespread makes it such a powerful tool for music industry professionals. Mostly for the fact that it created platforms where artists could directly interact with audiences. Also reaching groups of audiences that would not otherwise have discovered their products. Social media has also opened doors in a similar way to streaming services creating a platform that is smaller, independent artist friendly.   

Though both of these innovations have a lot of good intentions behind them. Their ease of use and availability has, unfortunately, it has resulted in an oversaturation of the music market. It is harder now to get noticed than it was in the age of CDs. This is why more than ever effective personal branding is so important.     

Having driven through roads guided by an ethical GPS and leaping over a hill and joining innovative industry participants. A 25-year-old exits his car and the person that emerges is an individual with his own particular style, and approach to life. He emerges with a personal brand. Personal branding is a term first coined by Tom Peters in a 1997 essay and it is a combination of how you present yourself through the various means of communication and how you are remembered after you have provided a service ("Personal Branding", 2017). It is created through an examination of personal values, strengths, weaknesses in the context of an individual's passions and likes (Barker, 2016).

In music, a personal brand is almost always referred to as a package. These packages consist of an image, sound and a persona. Packages aren’t anything new the industry. But since the creation of the internet and the disruptive innovation of streaming services like Spotify & Soundcloud. Notably, an example of an excellent use of personal branding is the artist Lizzie Grant and her change to Lana Del Rey. After the branding change her whole “package” as a musician became more concise. Being a mixture of familiar and new audiences were drawn to it (Wells, 2016).  Additionally, the authentic nature of her new branding contributed to its success.

No one in any industry can be successful without creating rapport with co-workers, peers, and audiences. Networking is a large part in the creation of personal branding. Even with sites like Linkedin the way a person interacts in physical form with others can make or break careers. Something common that happens in modern times is the inconsistencies between a person's online presence and their physical ("Authenticity Matters", 2017). For instance being a racially diverse advocate online but spouting racist jokes in person. Like having a consistent theme across all online platforms, a person’s physical presence needs the same treatment.   

Personal branding in 2018 is the way to sell yourself. But the modern citizen does not like being sold to instead effective selling has become less of a transaction and more of a conversation (Saltzman, 2015).  It is all about bringing your audience along for the ride. Audiences love to see growth, and changes in people. In modern times the more human a brand appears the more likely it is to be successful. With this in mind, we need to discuss how important the role of Social Media has become for personal branding.   

On the internet, your personal brand becomes what you want to portray to potential employers, peers, and possible fans. Social Media lets our personal branding imaginations run wild. An everyday person can tweak their personal branding on social media in such a way that he could appear more, wealthy and artistic (Furedi, 2015). But with this, it is still very vital to remember the importance of authenticity. Afterall personal branding should be and is an extension of oneself (Montoya & Vandehey, 2002).

After finally arriving at a destination and unraveling each concept. It is clear to see how they affect my career in the music industry. Media ethics affect what I say, and how I do it. Additionally, it gives me the responsibility not to know the difference between censorship for the sake of censorship and artistic expression. As an illustration, I will not censor depressive imagery in my music rather  I will find a way to discuss more compassionately. Innovation pushes me to be a moldable forward thinking individual, open to change and progress. Yes, Spotify did scare the industry for a time but it’s clear to see that innovations are important to the process of a not only the industry participant but also the industry as a whole. Additionally, personal branding affects my place in the world, how I want to be seen by others in the industry. It is always very important to have a personal brand that doesn’t sway from authenticity.  

On the whole life as a media, professional has its twists and turns. It is important to take media ethics, innovations, and personal branding seriously. A modern citizen cannot properly participate in the greater world without a concise brand that is ethical and constantly innovates. The media contributes greatly to the ever-changing world and it is up to its participants to mirror that.    

[songbay]

The Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

New Ways Songbay is Supporting Lyricists in 2020

Lyrics turned into songs. Have your lyrics turned into original songs 

Since launching Songbay ten tears ago, we’ve been helping songwriters and lyricists meet their goals and grow their careers. We’ve developed innovative ways to support them on this journey.

In this article, we will be discussing the new features just added to Songbay in 2020, such as our ‘Lyric-to-Music’ service and the ‘Lyric-Improvement’ service. We’ll be sharing the results of last year’s Songbay Lyric Writing competition, talking to our winners and revealing everything you need to know about the benefits of these features to Songbay lyricists and songwriters.

The Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

The competition opened in August 2019 with the closing date the 1st October 2019, giving participants six weeks to compose their lyrics. To enter, our lyricists were challenged to write (and upload to Songbay) a lyric based on this image:

  Photograph by Ira R (IG: @eklektikum), sourced via Unsplash (IG: @unsplash)

  The lyric could be written in any genre but had to use structures based on typical song formats, for example, verse, bridge, chorus, intros, outros, etc.

We were impressed by the standard of all the entries and will be sharing our favourites throughout this article (they can all be purchased on Songbay).

The winners of the competition were awarded the top prize of having their lyrics set to music by our professional songwriting team.

One of the biggest challenges facing aspiring lyricists is finding composers and musicians ready to turn their lyrics into completed songs. Most publishers do not accept ‘lyric-only’ submissions without a high-quality music demo. This makes it tough for lyricists to get into the industry.

  Bob Love, Winner of the 2019 Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

      Lyricists Bob Love was our first winner with his lyric ‘The Dark Road Leads To Light’

        Verse: Bed sheets loose and crumpled In my dreams I had stumbled To a dark forest, like a tunnel of trees A road ahead, sun bursts through the leaves

Confused for a time I felt fear Startled to find someone else near A silhouette of a man, tired and aged He somehow knew, I’d lost my way

Chorus: He said..The dark road leads to light It’s gonna be such a beautiful sight A whole new world is waiting for you if you push on through

   View the full lyric here >>

  We were looking for lyrics that conveyed emotion and imagination, that could also work as a song. Our team of judges quickly shortlisted Bob Love’s lyric as a winning contender. We all found his narrative and message of hope��quite compelling. Bob Love is a US-based lyricist with an impressive portfolio of lyrics to his name. Bob told us, “I enjoyed the challenge of the lyric contest. The picture was hard to write about. I based it on some of my life experiences. The tunnel of trees that I came up with, I got that from my experience with cancer treatment a few years back. I had 38 radiation treatments. The hallway that led to the office where I got radiation was long and narrow like a tunnel. I called it the tunnel of tears because it was so hard to go down that hallway and face more treatments.”

“Like anyone who’s lived a while, I have faced trouble in my life. I went through alcoholism years ago. Someone told me that to get well, I had to go through it; I could not go around it. That stuck with me, and I put that into the song, ‘the ghostly old man smiled and nodded at me, pointed ahead through the tunnel of trees. It’s just like trouble you see, can’t go around it, it’s your fate, got to go through it, it’s the only way.’”

  See all of Bob’s lyrics available for sale at Songbay here >>

  Lyrics turned into songs-As the competition winner, we turned Bob’s winning lyric into a completed song, using our new Lyric-to-Music-Service.

The Songbay Lyric-to-Music Service

  We created two different versions, both based on the genre and stylistic elements suggested by the artist when uploading the lyric. For the first version, we used a rough sung chorus that had been provided.

How this worked

When uploading his original lyric at Songbay, Bob made use of our industry-leading audio narration feature. In addition to having lyrics beautifully displayed for sale at Songbay, lyricists can narrate their lyrics or use our supplied backing music to automatically play when a user reads their work.

Our songwriting team used Bob’s rough idea for the melody as the basis of the chorus for the newly created song.

Have a listen here (music by Chris Porter):

Before: 

https://songbay.co/songbay/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Bob-Love-Chorus.mp3

After:

https://songbay.co/songbay/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Bob-Love-completed-Chorus.mp3

 Full version of the completed song:

https://songbay.co/songbay/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/The-dark-Road-leads-To-Light.mp3

A completely different version using the same lyric:

https://songbay.co/songbay/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Songbay-Bob-Love-TDRLTL-FINAL-2.m4a

  Get your lyrics turned into songs with music at Songbay

‘Are you looking to have your lyrics set to music? Our team of songwriters can turn your lyrics into professionally recorded songs. Anything from a pro-quality demo to a fully mixed, radio quality master. It is an opportunity to hear your words brought to life with music and vocals. You can then use the song in whichever way you choose. 

As always with all our sales of original lyrics and songs at Songbay, you retain complete control of your lyric and can use the song however you wish, profiting from any royalties the new song may generate. It’s worth pointing out, that unless a lyric is set to music, it cannot generate any music royalties. So this is another reason for lyricists to use our new ‘Lyric-to-Music-Service’.

Bob was the first person to use this feature. He says, “The Songbay team were great working with me on the music for the song. Many thanks to Chris Porter and Gary Cubberley. We communicated by email and they matched it up just right. I was pleased. I would certainly recommend it. It’s exciting to see your song come to life.”

  Have your lyrics turned into songs here >>

  Commended Entry in the 2019 Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

Dancin’ With Trees by Ric Holland  >> 

  The team behind our new services are: Gary Cubberley, Chris Porter, Valery Proletarski, Simon Graham, Olga Wells, Andrew Adigun, Andrew Hockney, Nandish Sadrani and Justine Perry.

Collectively, they have huge experience in all aspects of the music industry, including composing, songwriting, lyric writing, music production, arranging, recording, mixing, mastering, session singing and vocal coaching. They have written and recorded in session with artists such as:

Kazabian, Keane, Ellie Goulding, Ed Sheeran, Nick Cave & The BadSeeds, Patti Labelle, Jamie Cullum, West One Music, Faye Tozer, Amy Pearson, and Dagny (to name a few.) Members of our team have also been involved with prominent London West End Musicals, including Les Miserables and Billy Elliot. In the Orchestral and Opera world, with The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, BBC Concert Orchestra, Trinity College of Music, Royal Opera House Covent Garden and Wessex Opera. Songbay’s current clients include The BBC, ITV, BBC Radio, Channel 5, BRMB, Endemol Shine, and Tiger Aspect. Corporate clients include McDonald’s, DFDs Seaways and Konica Cameras.

.

We chatted with one of the Songbay songwriters, Chris Porter, about the new service.

  What do you find most interesting when writing music for the lyrics? 

The best and most interesting thing about creating music for lyrics is the different ’shapes’ you are made to work in – because of another creative’s artistic vision. Because all lyricists have different influences, approaching other people’s lyrics will always be different from the way you approach this task with your own. This means you nearly always make music differently from the way you normally do. This, in turn, means that you often find yourself slightly outside of your comfort zone – which, as has been regularly observed, is where the magic happens! Ultimately, successful songwriting is all about synergy – the perfect coupling of music, lyrics, and atmosphere – and that’s what I always try my best to achieve. Further, under these circumstances, it is a collaborative process. And I have very often found that two heads are better than one!

What is most challenging? Combining collaboration with subjectivity. Because this process is a collaboration (and because anything creative is subjective) I’m concerned that what I make will meet the expectations of the lyricist. The more information that can be supplied in terms of style and production choice all help to head off these anxieties. As a rule of thumb, I always try to let the lyric dictate musical choices, and then try to create music that is sympathetic to the original lyric. As a writer, I might be tempted to want to edit, adjust or refine a lyric. Here, I don’t have that luxury – the lyric exists, and is to be treated as the finished article.

Any other thoughts? 

Lyrics into songs is all about communication, I find that behaviour breeds behaviour. A successful song communicates – that’s its function. And as I’m a natural enthusiast, I will always want to create something that I can get enthusiastic about. And I hope, therefore, that this is communicated in the work – be it heart-breaking ballad or angsty protest rant!

  Here’s a couple more recent examples of a Lyric-to-Music service in action:

‘Beautiful Life’ by Piper (Chorus)

What a beautiful life you led What beautiful things you left behind my friend And I know that someday We’ll meet again What a beautiful life you led

What a beautiful world

https://songbay.co/songbay/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Beautiful-life-lyric-demo-with-music-arrangement-with-sung-vocals.mp3

Music by Songbayteam member Simon GRAHAM

  The ‘Gigolo’ by J-A-Y

Verse

Another Friday night another night of interaction, beauty’s only skin deep part of attraction, she’s wearing her high heels, a see through skirt, a call designer number with a DKNY shirt. So i smoozy on over with my hat and my cane, Oscar De La Renta’s meeting macho man, they ‘play that funky music’, the DJ boosts the gain, I give her thirty minutes till she’s screaming my name.”

Chorus

“I put my Guccis on, I’m gonna put Armanis on, Gonna put my CKs on, I’m gonna put Moschinos on, She’s gonna put Versace on, She’s gonna put Givenchy on, Vivienne Westwoods’ on, She’s super sexy Ralph Lauren,

https://songbay.co/songbay/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Friday-cropped-section.mp3

Music by Songbayteam member Gary Cubberley

  Have your lyrics turned into songs here >>

  Commended Entry in the 2019 Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

All The Things That Matter by Meggy

    The Lyric-Improvement-Service

“Receive professional analyses and evaluation of your lyrics. Receive detailed lyric improvement suggestions. Improve your lyric writing skills and boost your selling chances. We review and analyse your lyrics and show you how to make them stronger. We give you an independent perspective of your writing skills and the tools to become more creative!” 

We have also launched another feature for lyricists- Lyric-Improvement

You can submit your lyrics for independent professional review. Receive detailed analysis and evaluation of your new lyrics before making them available for sale at Songbay. We’ll also suggest improvements to existing lyrics from your porfolio.

We can make your lyrics work better with music, before investing time and money in composing and recording. For this reason, the Lyric Improvement Service goes hand-in-hand with our Lyric to Music service and is offered without charge when ordering the latter.

  Commended Entry in the 2019 Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

‘Walking Into The Light’ by Linda Tarry

    Runners Up

The term ‘Runner up’ is not completely accurate here, since several of our judges had the following lyrics marked as their winners!

Sheree Shaw

Our competition runners-up were Sheree Shaw and Emma Chute. They are both talented lyricists, who have been on Songbay for several years. Their writing skills are often in demand for collaboration projects with other artists. Sheree is based in Scotland, UK, and Emma in Perth, Western Australia.

As part of their prizes, they received exclusive free access to our new lyric-improvement-feature.

They shared their thoughts with us on the task of writing to a given image.

Sheree’s winning lyric was: ‘Out of the Woods, Into The Light‘. She said, “When I was given the task of writing the lyric based on the picture, I looked at the picture and wrote what I thought the picture represented. I felt it showed a feeling of being lost and someone who was trying to hide from the outside but could see that there was light. I would write a lyric based on a picture again as I found it helpful for bringing new ideas.”

Emma’s winning lyric was “Ol Piney Grove“. She told us, “I actually wasn’t going to enter as my writing usually just starts and then goes on, so to write on a subject took a lot of thought. I was driving and saw a place called Piney lakes. So initially the lyric was going to be a lot darker. But then I saw the house in my head and the man and the story just came but it was very challenging. I was very surprised and did a little dance around when I found I had come as a runner up.”

Here’s what they had to say on the Lyric Improvement Service:

Emma: “The lyric appraisal was very helpful. It showed me where I can miss giving the whole story or finish too quickly.”

Sheree: “When I received my appraisal I found it helpful and will be using the advice in my future work.”

If you would like analyses, evaluation, and feedback on your lyrics from our team, you can find the service in your user area at Songbay. Just choose ‘Lyric-Improvement’ after uploading. There are two options to choose from – Standard and Advanced. The latter also includes suggestions for re-wording the structure of the lyric as well as alternative word choices and phrases. It also gives you our complimentary guide ”Revamping Clichés” with expert advice on boosting the quality of your lyrics and many other useful writing tips and tricks.

  Commended Entry in the 2019 Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

The Walk of Defiance by Sheena Hope

  Chris Porter is involved closely with the new lyric improvement service. These are his thoughts:

“I do my best to bring to bear my English education in tandem with my decades of listening! Whilst there are all manner of rules concerning grammar and form, the poetry of lyric-writing is a wholly more fluid affair, and I tend to apply a perspective of ‘feel’ over the rigour of simple English appreciation. I also consider flow. The simple sounds of the words all feed into a considered appraisal. Whilst I sometimes wish it were as simple as ‘I like this’ or ‘I don’t like that’, I recognise that kind of close-minded thinking as the opposite of what creativity should be about. Ultimately, however, ‘feel’ tends to win. Does it communicate? Does it make you feel things? Does it get your intended message across? These are the kinds of things that appraisals should address. I favour a holistic approach to appraisal, therefore. And certainly not just whether it rhymes or repeats enough – though that can be important, too!”

  Commended Entry in the 2019 Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

‘Find The Way Through’ by 3 Song Writers From Scotland

  So how did we choose our competition winners?

With great difficulty!

As always when auditioning original lyrics for sale at Songbay, we were looking for strong writing techniques – use of metaphor, personification, alliteration, poeticism, and emotion. Additionally, we considered how closely the lyric followed the given brief and whether we could see it working when set to music.

We all had different opinions and favourite entries…

All the judges made shortlists of favourite entries. From this, we were able to create an ‘in common pool’ of the Top 20 entries.  The winners and runners-up were finally selected after hours of deliberation.

  Commended Entry 

‘Break In The Trees’ by Zephyrhillmusic 

  List of All Prize Winners in 2019 Songbay Lyric Writing Competition

  Here is a list of winners, runners up, and commended entries from the competition:

  First Place Winners:

Bob Love  ‘The Dark Road Leads to Light’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2337184/

Maria Teresa Guzman  ‘Life Under The Woods’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2337263/

  Runners Up:

Emma Chute  ‘Ol Piney Grove’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2337161

Sheree Shaw  ‘Out of the Woods, Into the Light’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2337223

  Highly Commended:

(Not in any order of preference)

Ric Holland  ‘Dancin’ With Trees’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2337219

Meggy  ‘All The Things That Matter’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2336844

Sheena Hope  ‘The Walk of Defiance’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2336748

Zephyrhillmusic  ‘Break in the Trees’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2337224

3 Songwriters From Scotland  ‘Find The Way Through’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2337210

Linda Tarry  ‘Walking Into The Light’ – https://songbay.co/view-lyric/2336778

    We’re delighted at the success of the competition and would once again like to thank everyone who took part.  We’ve already started planning the Songbay Lyric Writing Competition 2020!

  Do you want your lyrics turned into songs? do you want to use our lyric improvement feature? Do you want your existing song improved, re-arranged with professional musicians and instrumentalists, or re-recorded and mastered? if so, don’t hesitate to get in contact with us for more details at enquiries@songbay.co

Contact Us >>

Fact: Songbay is the world’s largest original lyric library. It is a home for composers, songwriters, producers and song and lyric buyers. They are all looking to connect with each other! Songbay offers free copyright registration of all uploads and sellers keep 100% of sale fees.

  **Unfortunately, we were unable to contact one of the recipients of the winner award. We’re hoping to update on this soon.

  Features Covered in this article

  Lyrics -to-Music-Service

Lyric-Improvement-Service

        The Songbay Lyric Writing Competition was originally published on Songbay Music and Lyric Sales

[thesinglesjukebox]

The Singles Jukebox Celebrates 30 Years of Rhythm Nation 1814 (a Janet Jackson retrospective)

Janet Jackson’s had one hell of a career. It’d be glittering even if you were to cut the album she released 30 years ago this week out of history. And historic is what Rhythm Nation 1814 is, not like a war, but like a discovery; it was groundbreaking and influential and so much pop released in its wake owes it a debt of gratitude. The album contained seven top 10 singles in the U.S., each with indelible melodies, state-of-the-art beats and vivid music videos. Janet was always on the radio, always on TV, and welcome everywhere she went. She endured the failure of two albums and the weight of family baggage before reinventing herself, seizing artistic control and having one of the longest and brightest imperial phases of any pop star. Sex positive, romantic, assertive and wise, she’s an icon whose brilliance comes as much from how her songs make us feel about ourselves as they do about her.

Her familial connections might help explain her, but they didn’t define or limit her. She’s a sympathetic performer, an innovator in the development of music video as an art form (someone in her camp needs to fix up her spotty presence on video streaming sites, people need to see these videos in HD) and a smart, underrated songwriter in her own right. There’s a lot of Jackson in Beyonce, in Rihanna, in Britney, and in any woman who makes us smile and makes us dance. Because she did all those things over and over again.

Here’s a bunch of songs by Miss Jackson that moved us, or just made us move:

Katherine St Asaph on “Nasty” [8.14]

Date the quote: “[His] dance cuts have a format-friendly, artificial sheen … but she seems more concerned with identity than playlists.” This is not from 2019, about a post-Spotify pop star (I cheated a bit, leaving out a reference to “Arthur Baker dance breaks”) but from the ’80s. Specifically, it’s from the Rolling Stone review of Janet Jackson’s’s Control, the first half of which is a review of a comparatively nothing Jermaine Jackson album. This was typical: if press didn’t dismiss her as an biographical afterthought who happened to still sing, they wrote about her alongside her family, and specifically her brother. (This continues to this day: Note the sustained attention given to her response to Leaving Neverland, which ultimately was to join her family in condemning it.) The line everyone quotes is “Ms. Jackson if you’re nasty,” but more pointed is one of the lines that precedes it: “my last name is Control.”

The lyric to “Nasty” is full of that sort of role-reversal, like a swordfight where one guy yoinks the other guy’s sword — the sword being the “nasty groove.” But said groove possibly illustrates the lyric even better. Made by producers/former The Time members/future creative partners Jam & Lewis out of big ’80s percussion, plus clanks and repurposed orchestral stabs from an Ensoniq Mirage, one of the earliest sampling keyboards, it doesn’t sound martial exactly, like some of Jackson’s later work, but certainly sounds stark. It sounds like a challenge, one Janet takes up: her past soubrette voice drops to a throatier register, then is stoked into roars. The beat’s not quite its own thing; “Nasty” resembles experiments like Herbie Hancock’s “Metal Beat,” and in turn much of New Jack Swing resembles it. But how Jam & Lewis described it was a rapper’s beat — now standard for pop or R&B singers, from Destiny’s Child to Ariana Grande and Billie Eilish, when they want a tougher image. Meanwhile, Britney took Janet’s soft spoken-word interlude “I could learn to like this” and extrapolated an entire career from it — and covered it, unusually early in her career — but simplified it, mostly collapsing the context of family ties and dignity and creative control onto one axis: sex. But what they’re all doing is asserting this kind of Control.

Part of appreciating songs from the ’80s and ’90s is prying them out of the clutches of the era’s pop-culture jokification– I do like MST3K, but their sort of snappy “Nasty” joke is kind of what I mean. More than one article/restaurant review/listicle attempts to identify, meme-ily, Janet’s idea of “nasty food” (Janet’s answer, dubiously, was whole squid). A certain comment by a certain head of state gave the song a late-breaking sales boost But put on some ’80s radio (or a contemporary playlist of people copying ’80s radio) and wait for “Nasty” to come on. The rest of the radio will flinch.

Kat Stevens on “What Have You Done For Me Lately?” [8.67]

“What Have You Done For Me Lately?” is a sparse, angry snap of a song, the overspill of weeks and months of gradually-building resentment. It’s taken a nudge from bezzie mate Paula Abdul for Janet to fully admit her relationship has gone sour: her once fun-loving, adoring beau has become complacent, content to put his feet up on the sofa and take Janet for granted. Should she leave? She loves him! Or does she? Should love really feel like a heavy weight, pressing down on you? Like your stomach won’t stop churning? Like letting the phone ring out unanswered rather than deal with his temper? Like maybe it’s your fault that he’s like this? “Who’s right? Who’s wrong?” Janet is determined to make a decision with a clear head, but the anxiety and hormones are bubbling underneath (“I never ask for more than I deserve…“). Thankfully Jam & Lewis are on hand with a clinical, whipcrack beat — snap out of it, Janet! The tension manifests itself in her zigzagging shoulders, hunched and strained and contorted, primed to lash out – just as he walks through the door! Janet is wary, but her dude is on his best behaviour, puppy-dog eyes, I’ll do better from now on, I swear. They dance perfectly in time together, remembering the good times: all is forgiven. Surely Janet hasn’t fallen for the same old lines, doomed to repeat the cycle? Paula is rolling her eyes: ugh, not this bullshit again… Then, as the happy couple laugh together over dinner, Janet glances back at us, and the smile falls from her face. The decision has been made. As soon as Mr ‘Not All Men’ leaves for work in the morning, she’s putting her passport in a safety deposit box and setting up a secret savings account to fund her getaway. The plan is in motion. You’ve got one life to life.

Thomas Inskeep on “Diamonds” (Herb Alpert ft. Janet Jackson) [6.80]

After “The Pleasure Principle,” this might actually be my favorite Janet Jackson single (even though she’s technically the featured artist on it). “Diamonds,” written and produced by Jimmy “Jam” Harris and Terry Lewis for Herb Alpert’s 1987 album Keep Your Eye on Me, is, in all but name, a Jam/Lewis/Janet record — with a few Alpert trumpet flourishes. The beats rock hard, and Janet delivers what may be (and certainly was at the time) her most IDGAF vocal: you’re gonna get Miss Jackson (because you’re clearly nasty) some diamonds, aren’t you?

Alfred Soto on “The Pleasure Principle” [8.43]

For all the banter over the years about the cold and steel of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis’ beats for Control, the coldest and steeliest they had no hand in creating. Songwriter Monte Moir, like Jam and Lewis also a The Time alum, stumbled on the title first: “I had to figure out what it was I was trying to say, I just stumbled into the title and realized it fit.” Sung by Jackson in her airiest, most insouciant coo, “The Pleasure Principle” starts with bass synth and cowbell before settling down into a matter-of-fact tale of a night of sin. To visualize the concept, choreographer Barry Lather put together one of Jackson’s most iconic videos, a masterpiece of athleticism involving chairs. Too cold and steely for the audience, or perhaps the hype cycle for a sixth single had exhausted itself: “The Pleasure Principle” missed the top ten in the summer of 1987, stopping at #14. So ignore the single mix and revel in Shep Pettibone’s Long Vocal Remix.

Kat Stevens on “Let’s Wait Awhile” [6.60]

Can you have an erection-section classic that’s primarily about abstinence? “Let’s Wait Awhile” has all the features of a late-night Magic FM request slot regular: soft electric piano, finger clicks instead of drums, lyrics about promises and feelings and stars shining bright. But this message is about trust, not lust. It takes courage to admit that you’re not ready, and it requires faith in the other person that they’re not going to be a dick about it. I remember the advice columns in Just 17 repeating over and over that as Informed Young Women we shouldn’t be pressured into sex, which was all well and good until it actually came to the act of Doing It, whereupon the fug of hormones and internalised misogyny meant that all rationality went out of the window. It’s the sign of how strong and confident Janet is in her relationship, that she can be ‘real honest’ and discuss her concerns freely with her partner, without worrying that he’s going to a) dump her b) tell his mates that she’s frigid or c) ‘persuade’ her round to his point of view (*shudder*). If he’s not willing to wait, maybe he’s not such an ideal person to be doing this sort of stuff with in the first place? I can hear the dude whining to his mate now: “I took her out for dinner and all I got was a perfectly vocalised key change!” Just 17 would be proud of you, Janet.

Jessica Doyle on “Miss You Much” [7.83]

A little context: in March 1989 Natalie Cole released “Miss You Like Crazy,” a ballad built for Cole to sing wide about longing. In June Paula Abdul released the third single off Forever Your Girl, “Cold Hearted,” whose video made a point of its group choreography. And then in late August came “Miss You Much,” the first single from Rhythm Nation 1814. Did Janet Jackson have beef with her ex-choreographer? Was that the kind of thing people talked about, in the pre-poptimist, pre-TMZ era? Because in retrospect “Miss You Much” looks like a dismissal of “Cold Hearted,” cool and upright where the latter was David-Fincher-directed sleazy. (By contrast, the director of “Miss You Much,” Dominic Sena, had already treated Jackson with respect in the video for “The Pleasure Principle.”) But also “Miss You Much” plays as a broader statement, a refusal of expectations. There’s nothing sad or ballad-like about it. There’s that opening high of “sho-o-ot,” and then Jackson’s on a roll: it’s all about her, the deliciousness of her feeling; she can barely bother to describe the “you” being missed so much besides the blanditries of smiling face and warm embrace. The power in “I’ll tell your mama/I’ll tell your friends/I’ll tell anyone whose heart can comprehend” isn’t in the longing; it’s in how much she relishes being the one who gets to do the telling. By 1989 she was in control enough to not have to utter the word once. “Miss You Much” isn’t a deep song, didn’t set out to accomplish as much as the title track or later songs like “That’s the Way Love Goes” or “Together Again” would. But thirty years later it still looks and sounds like (what we now call) a power move.

Katie Gill on “Rhythm Nation” [8.57]

How does one try to condense the reach and influence of “Rhythm Nation” in a single blurb? Entire articles have been written about this song and video (because really, you can’t talk about the song without talking about the video). It’s influenced singers, dancers, directors, choreographers. It won a Grammy as well as two MTV Music Video Awards when those awards actually mattered. The choreography is perfect. Jackson and her dancers move with military-like precision, flawlessly executing maneuvers and creating a dance that would almost instantly become part of the popular consciousness. The sound is amazing. That bass groove is so tight, adding a layer of funk which the guitar takes to further levels. The tune is an absolute earworm, the chorus is iconic, and Jackson’s vocals are at the best of their game. But I think the most important part of “Rhythm Nation” is that this absolute banger of a song, this masterclass in choreography, has remarkably idealistic lyrics. Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation” yearns towards a racially and socially conscious utopia as it attempts to unite people to join together and create this utopia. In a lesser artist, these lyrics would be out and out corny. But when wrapped up in the final package, the lyrics go from corny to believable. Suddenly, the idea of the whole world helping each other or rising up in protest doesn’t sound so far-fetched.

Alfred Soto on “Escapade” [7.67]

With solo credits as common as hair metal solos in Janet Jackson music, I often listen to tracks like “Escapade” and wonder: what did Janet Jackson contribute? Lyrics? Sure. But she has to write them around a Jimmy Jam-Terry Lewis melody, no? Or, as is no doubt the case, she comes up with her own vocal melody to accompany their chord progressions. According to Jam, the trio had “Nowhere to Run” in mind: first as a cover song, then as inspiration. “Escapade” hopscotches away from the sense of danger animating the Martha and the Vandellas chestnut; in 1989, into the eclipse of a grim decade for black lives, looking forward to Friday and drinks and friends would have to do. Over Jam and Lewis’ unrelenting thwack, Jackson sing-songs a valentine to a shy boy whom she hopes will join her in — what? The sheer euphoria of the bridge — a melody as bright as a returned smile — suggests worlds of possibilities when the check’s cashed and the night’s young. After all, MINNEAPOLIS!

Leah Isobel on “Alright” [7.14]

Rhythm Nation might have more banging singles, and it might have songs that more directly diagnose the ills of late capitalism, but no song on the record better encapsulates its utopian aims than “Alright.” Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis famously left the high end of Janet’s songs empty to provide space for her delicate soprano; here, they fill the low end with vocal samples, percussion, submerged synth blats, and tense bass licks. Instead of singing high for the whole track, however, Janet buries lyrical references to magic spells and the end of the world in her lower register, where they blend into the rest of the song. It’s only on the chorus, and particularly on her swooping vocal runs as she riffs on the phrase “you’re alright with me,” that she surfaces from the swirl. On a record where she spends so much time and thought discussing what’s wrong around her, here she takes the time to see and acknowledge what’s right. I don’t know that I’ve heard a better sonic analogue for finding relief from chaos: one voice against a wall of voices and sounds, getting lost and being found over and over to the comforting rhythm of a pop song.

Edward Okulicz on “Black Cat” [6.57]

“Black Cat” was never the huge stylistic U-turn it was perceived as. Janet’s brother had dabbled in rock guitars, and this is in that vein too, while still being of a piece with the other songs on the album. Where it succeeds is because it doesn’t just lean into rock, it’s as credible a rock song as it is a dance-pop song — the riff, which Jackson wrote herself, kicks ass, the drums shake a room as much as the cavernous thuds of her contemporaneous singles, and the song’s melody and the fierce vocal performance straddle both worlds. And if you don’t like the mix there’s like 900 different versions with 2000 different guitarists — only a slight exaggeration. Its overall success is testament to Janet’s persona, sure, because nothing she released could have failed at this point, but you can’t go to Number One with single number six off an album without your usual co-writers and producers unless you’ve written something that connects with listeners and performed it with power. The way she slams down on “don’t understand… why you… insist…” is a moment of perplexed, angry humanity in the middle of a song that tries to understand something tragic — the corrosion of drugs and gangs on young people’s lives — and while the soloing is a little hammy, the song escapes being embarrassingly corny. Because in fact the whole song kicks ass.

Pedro Joao Santos on “Love Will Never Do (Without You)” [8.71]

One of the greatest pleasures in getting into Janet is how deliriously bold all of her work is. A story, if you will: how Jimmy & Terry stepped in to support her emancipation and helped her invent new jack swing all within Control, before taking the formula apart in Rhythm Nation 1814, aiming for pop that was both a manifesto against bigotry and, between a balm and a corrective, a rush of love. It was designed for high impact, meaning it would’ve always been a pop juggernaut — the material was there, even if the marketing was oblique, which it was. Instead of a glamour shot in Technicolor and a flirtatious title, the 12 million copies sold feature a stark black and white portrait backed by a call-to-arms; the pop froth is smattered around the backbone of topical anthems.

From single to single, A&M skittered between the two sides and amassed consecutive top 10 singles, but it was the last calling card that proved career-defining. At first, “Love Will Never Do (Without You)”’s hard-edged beats scan identical to “Rhythm Nation”’s sonic matrix: belligerent and completed by Janet’s frontal vox, only in this instance driven through a more feminine marketing (the music video is a blueprint). That’s the first trick: she unexpectedly launches into the first verse in a tentative, lightly hostile lower register (“like a guy would,” said Jimmy Jam, as it was to be a duet) and keeps it until the chorus wraps up. It’s pop as friction. By the second verse, Janet goes up an octave and matches the now-bubbling passion at the forefront. The tiny synth countdown drives it into a perpetual unfolding, each time emerging to add more (vocal) layers to the cacophony and threaten to wrap it up, before coming back in force.

Janet’s head voice soars up to the grand finale, a pop cataclysm of an ending, one of the best in recorded history — which applies to the entirety of “Love Will Never Do,” a simultaneous pitch for chaotic head-over-heels energy and blockbuster status. It’s a bizarre ride and a joyous knockout: the honeymoon phase juiced into one relentless beast of a banger, one that changed pop for good.

Jackie Powell on “State of the World” [6.67]

“State of the World” deserved a music video. At its heart, this is a dance cut with a little bit less of the hard rock that roars in “Rhythm Nation.” In content and in sound, this track is a sequel and that’s not a criticism. It’s an expansion which encourages a foot tap by the listener and includes an absolutely integral bassline that drives this track through and through. While the song clocks in at under five minutes and could have been a bit shorter, its chorus, which crescendos in clarity and volume, makes up for it. In addition to Jackson’s delivery on the verses, which is rather understated, the sound effects which illustrate “State of the World”  aren’t too kitschy. The cries and crashes aren’t as apparent as in brother Michael’s “Earth Song” for instance, and that’s appropriate. The politics had to run as smooth as the bass on this track, and they did. They didn’t serve as a distraction, but rather as an asset. Janet was the master of New Jack Swing, and while folks look to her brother’s album Dangerous as the most successful of this genre, Janet experimented with it first.  The percussive repetition, serves a purpose for Jackson on the record. It maintains the same intensity throughout as it reflects exactly what she has to say. Lyrically, I wish that Jackson explained how her “Nation” would “weather the storm.” To this day, homelessness and poverty are issues that affect people continuously. Jackson states the cornerstone rather than the specifics, and maybe that’s okay. It’s something that in 2019 we need more than ever. While unity appears so far out of our reach, Janet attested as early as 1991 that we can’t stop and shan’t stop.

Thomas Inskeep on “The Best Things in Life Are Free” (with Luther Vandross, BBD and Ralph Tresvant) [7.60]

To soundtrack his 1992 film Mo’ Money, Damon Wayans (who wrote and starred in the critically-derided box office hit) called upon superproducers Jam & Lewis, and they did work, producing or co-producing 13 of the album’s 14 tracks and writing or co-writing 12 of them. The soundtrack’s lead single was very pointedly a “look at all the cool stars we got together” move, featuring superstars Vandross and Jackson duetting, along with a brief rap bridge from Bell Biv DeVoe (credited here as BBD) and their New Edition compadre Ralph Tresvant. Released as a single in May 1992, it’s a perfect summertime smash, simultaneously airy-light and slammin’, with Vandross and Jackson weaving in and out of each other’s vocals effortlessly. BBD and Tresvant pop in with a nothingburger of a rap (Tresvant gets a label credit for literally uttering one line, the song’s title) that at least serves to provide a modicum of grit to the proceedings, but no matter: Jackson especially sounds breezier than maybe ever, while Vandross seems to float above the record. The two are magical on a track perfectly suited for them (credit Jam & Lewis, of course), and the result is a minor classic.

Jonathan Bogart on “That’s the Way Love Goes” [7.86]

A little over a year ago I rather overshared in this space when discussing Madonna’s “Erotica,” released a year before this single. A year makes a lot of difference: by the time I was listening to Shadoe Stevens count this down on American Top 40, the summer it became the longest-running #1 hit any Jackson family member ever had, radio pop was no longer a dirty, soul-damning secret, just a daily companion, a window into a more colorful, adult, and interesting world than the ones I knew from books. I would probably have had a healthier relationship to romance and sexuality, in fact, if this had been my introduction to overtly sexual pop rather than “Erotica” — both songs share the technique of a sultry spoken-word refrain, but Janet’s is actually grown-up, with the confidence of a woman who knows what she wants and how to achieve it, with none of Madonna’s juvenile need to épater les bourgeois. As it happened I didn’t particularly connect to “That’s the Way Love Goes,” having reached the stage in my adolescence when getting a charge out of raspy-voiced men singing about political instability felt like the more gender-appropriate inevitability. It wouldn’t be until years later when I returned to re-examine the radio pop of my youth with maturer ears that the amazing miracle of this song fully dawned on me: those pillowy guitar samples plucked from songs where raspy-voiced men sang about political instability, but pressed into service of a loping, candlelit coo: equal parts seduction and vulnerability, Janet singing with the authority of someone who had already conquered the world about the grown-woman concerns that really matter: love, and sex, and the impossible beauty that results when they intertwine.

David Moore on “If” [8.33]

Janet Jackson sang explicitly about “nasty boys,” but I was, to use a term my son’s preschool teacher used to describe him, a timid boy, and I soaked up the privileges of maleness with a corresponding fear of performative masculinity. My love of women through childhood was paired with a deep-seated self-loathing that snuffed out friendships, made me uncomfortable in my body, and sparked intense, violent fantasies directed toward unnamed aggressors in my mind, all those “bad guys.” I wouldn’t be able to reflect on any of this until adulthood. But there was a point in preadolescence when the contours of the trap started to become discernible, and Janet Jackson’s “If” was both a cherished song — one I would listen to rapt in front of MTV or on the radio, legs haphazardly splayed behind me — and was also the uncanny soundtrack to my discomfort: a muscular, menacing, alien object that completely unnerved me, made me a supplicant to its rhythm, got into my head and into my guts, made me move, if only for a minute, in a world that glanced contemptuously toward — but stood defiantly outside of — that toxic timidity. I was the woman telling the man what I wanted, and I was also the man obeying; I was the dancer and I was the floor, too. On “If,” Janet Jackson and Jam & Lewis tamed the New Jack Squall that her brother unleashed on Dangerous with Teddy Riley, insisted upon its lockstep subservience to her mission and her groove, and pointed to an R&B futurism that was barely a twinkle in pop music’s eye in 1993. The result is simultaneously mechanistic and wild, rolling waves of noise that you quickly learn to surf or risk drowning in them. That same year, I also found inspiration in angry men, many of them likely nasty ones, the same men I would have assiduously avoided in person and fought off in my dreams. But Janet Jackson kept me honest, reminded me that my anger was a tell for my underlying cowardice and shame. There is never a hint in “If” that her hypothetical proposition — too strident for any coyness or the suggestion of flirting — could ever be satisfactorily answered. Not by you anyway. No boy, nasty or timid, could meet Janet Jackson’s challenge; she’s mocking the guy who would even try. By the time you hit that cacophony of a middle 8 break, defibrillation on an already racing heartbeat, you’re defeated, more thoroughly than any bad guy you might have dreamt up. You’re not ready for this world — you’re not, so you can’t, and you won’t. But what if…?

Jonathan Bradley on “Again” [5.67]

It sounds like a fairy tale: billowing keys, Janet’s tinkling voice, and no drums to earth the fantasy. “Again” was from John Singleton’s Poetic Justice, not a Disney picture, but it shimmers with its own magic anyway. The melody is gorgeous: listen to Janet measuring out the descending syllables in “suddenly the memories came back to me” like they’re sinking in as she sings the words. (She repeats the motif on “making love to you/oh it felt so good and so right” — this is a romance where the sex is as fondly remembered as the emotions.) Janet Jackson is such a versatile performer, and for all the bold strokes and blunt rhythmic force of her best known moments, “Again” is a treasure all of its own for being none of these: it is tiny and tender and sparkles with a real joy that is all the more wondrous for sounding like it could not exist outside of a storybook.

Scott Mildenhall on “Whoops Now” [4.83]

Even outside America, there’s a widespread tendency for people, in search of a lifetime’s grand narrative, to define everything that happened before The Day The World Changed – a coincidental proxy for their childhood, youth or adolescence – as a simpler time. It’s a convenient illusion for anyone in the world lucky enough to be able to believe it, whose formative years were insulated from war or suffering and can be instead defined by the most carefree scraps of pop culture. In that respect “Whoops Now” holds great temptation, it being the breeziest brush-off of burdens, with an all-over Teflon disposition. It’s therefore an almost fantastical ideal of ’90s radio (and still one of Janet’s most played in the UK); a warm and fuzzy-round-the-edges memory of which on closer inspection, the details are inscrutable. Janet, aloft in a proletarian reverie, relates a confusing tale of overnight shift work, a hindrance of a boss and the consequent curtailing of her plans for some fun in the sun this weekend with her friends (who, judging by her extended roll call, seem to mostly be record execs, producers and performers, as well as dogs). Narratively, it’s difficult to tease apart, but all you need to know is that hurrah – she somehow ends up on holiday anyway. A story that sounds more like something from an expletive-laden segment of Airline thus becomes the most casual celebration of the apparent inevitability of positive resolutions when you’re a globe-straddling megastar, or perhaps just a kid in the back of your parents’ car with the radio on. With that certainty of happiness and universal balance, and the belief that it ever was or could be, it’s fantasy upon fantasy upon fantasy. But no bother: Anguilla here we come.

Nortey Dowuona on “Throb” [6.86]

I started listening to Janet Jackson as a happy accident. Her songs were on Atlantic Radio, but nowhere else. I barely heard her music growing up and only knew of her massive career, and not the music that made it so huge.

So when I first pressed play on “Throb,” I was kinda scandalized.

Because it was so directly, overtly sexual, and confident about it. Janet was ready to get down and dirty, without all the mind games, patronization and bullpuddy packed all over it. The lyrics are pretty straightforward, and there are only ten lines of lyrics. Its pretty clear what Janet wants, and she’s gonna get it.

Plus, the bass was slamming, it slunk around my neck and just rested there while the air horn synths washed over my eyes, blinding me. The drums then stepped over me and plucked me up, with cooing and cascading moans and grunts swirled around my body, shredding me to pieces —

Then the song ended. And it was over.

I honestly, can’t really say why this is my favorite Janet song, but I can say that you should probably play it while having sex, and while thinking about having sex, and play this late night in the night if deciding to have sex. I know this’ll be the first thing I’ll play if I have sex with anyone.

Thomas Inskeep on “Throb”

In the summer of 1993, I’d just finished my second freshman year of college, in my hometown. (I’d gone to college straight out of high school in 1988, and dropped out without much to show for it, 16 months later.) One of my best girlfriends had herself just graduated from college and was back at her parents’ house, job-hunting. We were both past 21 and looking for a place to go dancing, and we found it in the nearest big city, Fort Wayne, Indiana, about 45 minutes away. It was a short-lived gay bar — so short-lived I don’t even recall its name, sadly — with a dance floor roughly the size of a postage stamp. I don’t remember meeting anyone there, ever. (I didn’t drive at the time, so Julie always had to, so it’s not like I could’ve gone home with someone anyway.) I don’t remember anything about the bar — except its dancefloor, and the fact that they had a decent DJ on the weekends, who mostly played house music, which I loved. And there were three songs that got played, in my memory at least, every single week. (And Julie and I really did go just about every weekend that summer.)

The first was Bizarre Inc.’s “I’m Gonna Get You,” an ebullient diva-house track which topped Billboard’s Dance Club/Play chart in January but was just peaking at pop radio in June. The second was, really, the gay club record of the year, RuPaul’s “Supermodel.” It peaked at #2 on the Dance Club/Play chart in March, but never left gay clubs at all through 1993. When that got played at the club, I would, week-in, week-out, “work the runway,” lip-syncing my ass off. (It’s just that kind of song.) And the third was an album track from a newly-released album (that would, in fact, eventually be promoted to dance clubs at peak at #2 on the Club/Play chart), Janet Jackson’s “Throb.” This song went where Jackson never had before, both musically (it’s a straight-up house jam) and lyrically (it’s a straight-up sex jam). Its lyrics are minimal but to the point: “I can feel your body/Pressed against my body/When you start to poundin’/Love to feel you throbbin’.” No subtleties there! Accordingly, Julie and I would spend the song grinding up against each other on a tiny riser at the back of the dance floor, because why not? And because it’s fun.

26 years later, ‘Throb” still kills. And throbs.

Maxwell Cavaseno on “Runaway” [6.50]

My childhood managed to dodge the oceanic nature of pop thanks to being struck between two extremes. My father usually kept the car full of rap, via cassettes of assorted rising stars of the moment (Big Pun, Nas, Various Wu-Tang Soloists) or whatever was playing via Hot 97. Meanwhile my mother typically wallowed in a realm of AOR pop a la Amy Grant or the likes who you could never remember anything about. If there was anything majorly important in the history of pop music from 89-98, lemme tell you, that shit didn’t happen anywhere near me. However, one of the few memories that did manage to linger on was “Runaway.” It was a record that managed to ethereally sneak up to me like some kind of weird creep that I just couldn’t understand with its weird foreign instrumentation simulating orientalist visions and Janet’s background vocals harmonizing like a bunch of Buddhist Cats sneering a la Randy Savage’s “nyeeeah.” Whenever I trailed along in supermarkets or tried to keep busy in waiting rooms, I could comprehend what happened on other songs I liked in the outer world like “Take a Bow” or “Kiss From A Rose.” But this? How did you rationalize all of these gliding vocals crooning and this swarm of glittery noises when you have barely any understanding of the world around you, let alone music? No matter how much further away and away I’d get from whenever it was meant to be a single, it could still disruptively appear in the wild and send the whole day into a state of disarray. It’s so alarming to know now as a grown adult that I can personally summon this ifrit of a single, rather than think of it as some sort of rare sighting of trickster energy (all the more bolstered by Janet’s ad libbed teasing of supposed imperfection and other-human excess) that isn’t meant to be heard more than once in a blue moon. To be honest, I may just forget altogether after the fact, the same way I never remembered the name of the song even when considering it for review. Just that “nyeeeah” hung around in my memory.

Danilo Bortoli on “Got ’til It’s Gone” [6.17]

In Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi”, a cut from her 1970 album Ladies of the Canyon, she sang of impeding progress as a form of destruction (“They paved paradise/And put up a parking lot”). Often seen as as environmental anthem, actually, she was looking back at the sixties, and then seeing, right ahead, a decade that showcased no promising future, only aching skepticism. This resulted in one the purest, simplest lines she has ever written: “Don’t it always seem to go/That you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone”. Almost thirty years later, Janet Jackson conjured those same thoughts, conveying, instead, a different meaning. The Velvet Rope was her very own game of smoke and mirrors, and intimate and often misleading look at her private life. Lying at the center of that album, there is a delicate tribute. “Got ‘til It’s Gone” features a well-placed sample from that line culled from “Big Yellow Taxi.” The context is entirely different however. Here, the same words are uttered between confessions of love. It helps, then, that “Got ‘til It’s Gone” is, in reality, a talk. It’s the way Janet asks “What’s the next song?”. It’s the way Q-Tip responds “Like Joni says.” It’s also the way he asserts finally: “Joni Mitchell never lies.” The brilliance of a sample travelling three decades is that it is deliciously meta. The concept of truth, in Janet Jackson’s universe, is interchangeable. That way, she, too, can never lie.

Josh Love on “Together Again” [6.86]

Together Again was originally conceived as a ballad, and no wonder – it’s a deeply sentimental (borderline treacly, if I’m being uncharitable) song about death and angels and reuniting in the afterlife in heaven. Deciding to record it as a surging house jam instead was an absolute masterstroke, and the result is one of the most purely joyous, transcendent moments of Janet’s career. The idea of carrying a lost loved one in your heart and feeling their spirit in the goodness you encounter in the world, and even the thought of one day joining together with them again in the great beyond – “Together Again” makes you feel that joy rather than merely verbalizing it. So many of us say that when we die we want those we leave behind to celebrate our lives rather than mourn our passing, but Janet is one of the few artists to really bring that radical acceptance of impermanence to life.

Thomas Inskeep on “I Get Lonely” (TNT Remix) [7.43]

Allow me to be cynical for a moment: Janet Jackson, in 1998, is still a superstar. But in the past five years, she’s only had one R&B #1, ‘94’s sex-jam “Any Time, Any Place” (assisted greatly by its R. Kelly remix). So if you’re thinking “What do we do to get Janet back to the summit,” what do you do? Well, it’s 1998. How about calling in Teddy Riley? Better yet, how about he gets a helping hand from Timbaland? And the best: how about Teddy brings his merry men of BLACKstreet with him for a vocal assist? Ergo, “I Get Lonely (TNT Remix),” now label-credited to “Janet [she was just going by “Janet” at the time] featuring BLACKstreet.”

And you know what? It’s genius. The idea, brilliant. The execution, top-notch. Riley on the remix, with instrumental help from Timbo, with guest vocals from BLACKstreet: it’s more exciting than the original (which was already quite good), has a little more junk in its trunk (those should-be-patented instrumental tics that Timbaland is such a wizard with, ohmygod, much like Janet’s big brother’s vocal tics), and the duet vocals are superb (especially as it was so rare to hear Janet singing with others at the time, and every member of BLACKstreet save Riley was a great-to-marvelous singer). Presto! Two weeks atop the R&B chart in May 1998, along with a #3 Hot 100 peak. Mission accomplished — and fortunately, it works even better artistically than it did commercially. Everybody wins!

Pedro Joao Santos on “Go Deep” [7.14]

That The Velvet Rope’s party song is so heavy on gravitas and spine-tingling urgency speaks volumes. In an album so hellbent on carnal and psychological openness, the party of “Go Deep” goes deeper, and makes sense. It’s not just the top-20 banger it factually was, and it’s not just hedonism for the sake of it. That is, if you don’t divorce it from the wounds of longing, manipulation, abuse and distress being sliced fresh. Tension lies within this absolute romp, placed midway through the red-hot catharsis of Rope. It might be that the party acts as a salve for the trauma. Though it isn’t put into words, you can hear it subliminally: Janet’s hesitant vocal; the evocative, near-melancholy synth fluctuating about. You can even imagine the words as portals: making friends come together as support; the sexual come-ons not just because, but maybe as physical relief for the pain.

A bare-bones lyric sheet would give you nothing — but music as context goes a long way. And the music itself from “Go Deep” gets me in raptures after all these years, from that ridiculous boing (perhaps best known from “I Can’t Dance” by Genesis) to the bass driving it, all chunky and rubbery, and the dramatic string arpeggios in the middle-8. If there’s got to be a template for urgent, carnivorous Friday night anthems, let this be the one — and keep it in context.

Leonel Manzanares de la Rosa on “You” [7.00]

The Velvet Rope carries a strong and fascinating legacy; It is rightly praised as a predecessor to both mainstream R&B’s exploration of the intimate (the body) and the spiritual (the soul) in the continuing decades, and to the experimental scope and atmospherics later adopted by today’s so-called “Alt-R&B,” and this extraordinary mixture of elements is never more efficient than in the album’s third track “You.” The song is, first and foremost, a triumph of production genius. Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis’s use of space, and the dynamic at play between the then-cutting-edge electronica ingredients and neo-soul’s earnestness and sensual themes, should itself be a case study for aspiring producers, but it’s the way Janet’s vocals are performed and filtered through the track that take the song to unsuspected levels of greatness. There is something in the breathy, low-pitched verses that exudes unadulterated eroticism, and when the post-chorus harmonies kick in where things really become ecstatic. In several interviews, Janet herself defined this album as “baby-making music”, and I can safely bet that “You” is the song she was thinking about. And its echoes still reverberate today, not only in the sound of R&B to come, but in the fact that thousands of people were conceived to this very beat.

Edward Okulicz on “Free Xone” [6.83]

I remember it only vaguely; it was 1995, and for drama class we had to do a performance based on a social theme using a combination of media and methods. I was in a group with a big Janet fan, who decided to use her music as the basis of a combination spoken-word, mime and dance performance on racism. I only understanding the themes in the abstract because I was young, sheltered, and white. I knew racism was a thing I didn’t like, but it wasn’t an existential threat to me. Two years later, on “Free Xone,” Janet would speak directly to me and tell me of a bleak present with the promise of a better future.  Janet told it like it was, and still is for many: if you are gay, despite the fact that love is love, a lot of people are going to hate you or at least be uncomfortable around you. Homophobia isn’t just violence or hostility, it can be any kind of social rejection, and it can happen anywhere, as it does in the anecdote in the first part of the song, where a pleasant conversation with a person sitting next to you on an airplane sours because of it.

Janet Jackson is a dancer, but she didn’t dance around anything if she didn’t have to. She leaned into her status as a gay icon out of love, not necessity. But she made her social justice songs out of both love and necessity. Hating people is so not mellow. Love and sex are never wrong. Janet Jackson has never resiled from that belief, and never shied away from putting it in song. I’d grown up listening to Janet Jackson, but I’d never thought of her as an ally for myself, and it was intensely comforting to hear that she was on my side when nobody else seemed to be (Meshell Ndegeocello’s “Leviticus Faggot” the previous year had more or less convinced me I’d die in the closet).

In 2019, her funk here sounds a little dinky, the transitions between the soft groove and the raucous party bounce are kind of awkward, and the weird song structure sounds like it was cut and pasted together, but it’s a collage of compelling pieces. It got quite a lot of play on the alternative youth station here, the one whose listeners were at the time generally terrified of a) pop superstars, b) Black artists, and c) dancing. Someone thought the kids needed to hear this, and they were right. “Free Xone” helped my nascent consciousness come to grips with earlier songs that I’d just considered a good time before. Its story is less common in the Western world, now, but it’s still true as history for some, and as present for others.

Leonel Manzanares de la Rosa on “Tonight’s the Night” [4.50]

I’m a sucker for good covers; we usually tend to give songwriting, the cult of the inspired author, and the concept of originality a certain mystique that grossly overshadows the importance of skilful creative interpretation and re-invention. But many of our most important singers are essentially covers artists — Joe Cocker, Tom Jones, Bettye Lavette, a huge number of blues and jazz singers, most of the 50s-60s Greenwich Village folk scene — because of course we need these musicians to give these tunes another dimension, whether stylistic, generational, or purely emotional. Also, a song’s perspective can change dramatically because of who is singing.  “Tonight’s The Night” works with Rod’s gravelly, rugged voice, and, although it can sound a bit creepy by today’s standards, the arrangements carry it beautifully, but in Janet’s sexually adventurous, musically exuberant The Velvet Rope, it acquires a new dimension, a far more interesting one, might I add. From Janet’s view, and the brilliant decision of not changing genders in the lyrics, her version alludes to bisexuality in a way that makes complete sense within’ the album’s core subject matters, and works wonders within’ its production philosophy. Stewart later presented his live renditions of the song by saying “This is an original by Janet Jackson”. No one will refute that. It’s her song now.

Alex Clifton on “All For You” [6.86]

“All For You” is the first Friday night you go out with your new college friends and that utter sense of freedom where you realize the night is yours without a curfew. It’s sparkling fairy lights in the background, a disco ball overhead, at a roller rink or at a club with a fancy light-up dancefloor, maybe a stolen swig of rum on your tongue. It’s the moment you see someone new and your heart falls into your stomach with no prior warning, and you suddenly know you’ll do anything to talk to them. You simply have to; it’s an animal urge, chemicals and hormones whizzing through you and making it hard to walk because you’re giddy. Maybe you’re braver than I am and you go talk to the person who’s snagged your attention, but maybe you hang back with your friends and pretend you’re not watching out for your crush while also dancing stupidly with your new friends. There’s a pure exhilaration in this song that many have tried to emulate but few match the ease with which Janet performs. She’s flirty and sexy like no other, but “All For You” also makes you, the listener, feel flirty and sexy too — something about it worms its way into you and becomes the shot of confidence you need. Lots of people can write songs about dancing at the club, but Janet turns it into a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Jibril Yassin on “Someone to Call My Lover” [7.00]

Does falling in love always feel the same every time? It’s one thing to keep pushing on in life but what’s striking about “Someone to Call My Lover” is how infectious Janet’s optimism is. Built on an Erik Satie riff by way of the band America, Janet recast herself as a woman excited to love again. Let it be on the record – long-term relationships are fucking terrifying. Moving on from the dissolution of a marriage is disorienting and the songs that use Janet’s divorce as inspiration on All For You share a tentative yet firm belief in renewal.

She uses “maybe” on “Someone to Call My Lover” the way one throws out a “lol” after shooting their shot – you don’t even have time to catch it amid her grocery store list of wishes for her future love. “Someone to Call My Lover” hits all the right places thanks to the careful and immaculate production but it’s Janet’s sincerity that marks it as her best twee performance.

Will Adams on “Son Of A Gun” [5.20]

Given All For You’s post-divorce setting, it was only appropriate that after the aural sunbeam of the title track and giddy optimism of “Someone to Call My Lover,” Janet would do a 180 and proceed to rip him a new one. The opening taunts — “Ha-ha, hoo-hoo, thought you’d get the money too” — against the throbbing kick bass set the scene, but the true genius of “Son of a Gun” comes from its sampling and modernization of ultimate kiss-off song “You’re So Vain.” The classic bass riff, once soft in Carly Simon’s original, is now razor-sharp. The cavernous drum beats sound like you’re trapped in an underground dungeon. All the while, Janet mutters burn after burn right into your ear (“I’d rather keep the trash and throw you out”) before Simon launches into the “I betcha think this song is about you” refrain, sounding like a Greek chorus confirming Jackson’s digs. The album version carries on until the six-minute mark, with Carly Simon waxing poetic about clouds in her coffee and apricot scarves in an extended outro. The video version wisely excises this in favor of guest verses from Missy Elliott, whose reliably grinning performance shoves the knife in deeper. In both versions, however, Janet’s menace is preserved. Forming a trinity with All For You’s preceding two singles, “Son of a Gun” showed just how versatile Jackson is, and how adept she is at encapsulating the messy, complex emotions of an ended relationship.

Will Adams on “All Nite (Don’t Stop)” [6.17]

I had been looking away from the television when it happened. By the time I’d heard the gasps from my parents and I glanced up at the screen, the cameras had cut to an aerial shot of the Reliant Stadium in Houston, where the 2004 Super Bowl was taking place. My 11 year old brain couldn’t process exactly what happened from my parents’ concerned murmurs, and having completely missed the incident (there was no YouTube back then, see), it would take years for me to understand the impact that the “wardrobe malfunction” had on culture and Jackson’s career. The greater impact was to be expected — the six-figure FCC fine on CBS (later dismissed by the Supreme Court) and conservative handwringing about the moral decline of the country — but Jackson in particular suffered unduly. There was the blacklist, ordered by Les Moonves, which kept her off CBS, MTV and Infinity Broadcasting. Jackson’s appearance at that year’s Grammy Awards was canceled. Late-night talk show hosts turned it into monologue fodder, usually grossly and usually at her expense. The controversy hampered her album cycles well into the Discipline era. Meanwhile, Justin Timberlake remained entirely unaffected. His career would skyrocket two years later with the release of FutureSex/LoveSounds; he became a Saturday Night Live darling; he performed solo at the Super Bowl’s halftime show in 2018. This alone puts Damita Jo and “All Nite (Don’t Stop)” in a more sympathetic light, but even then, pop radio missed out on a truly brilliant song here. Janet acts as the Dance Commander, taking the opening guitar lick from Herbie Hancock’s “Hang Up Your Hang Ups” and turning it into a lasso with which she throws you onto the dancefloor. The percussion percolates, each sound placed perfectly to create an undeniable groove. Because of the blacklist, it didn’t even break the Hot 100, and the video was also subject to its own asinine controversy — the few video channels that managed to avoid the blacklist edited out the sexual content, including a scene were two female dancers kiss. Even fifteen years later, it feels like we’re still reckoning with how Jackson was treated in the aftermath. But there’s an inspiring resilience in “All Nite (Don’t Stop)” reflected in the smile she bears on the Damita Jo cover; its unabashed sexuality in the face of all the backlash makes it an even better listen today.

Kat Stevens on “Strawberry Bounce” [7.17]

I like Janet best when she takes risks, whether that be controversial subject matter, a new image or a change of musical direction. Old faithfuls Jam & Lewis are still a solid presence on Damita Jo, but on “Strawberry Bounce” we see Janet plumping for a left field choice in the then-unknown Kanye West. The result is an intriguing Ryvita, all brittle handclaps and feathery faux-ingenue whispering, on the verge of crumbling into nothing. It’s so light that there’s no bassline, just a queasy glockenspiel tinkle and Janet’s butter-wouldn’t-melt sing-song. I keep wondering to myself: why have Janet and Kanye chosen to present a song about working a shift at a strip club in the style of an Aptimil Follow-On Milk advert? Is it a subtle reminder that sexy times may eventually lead to night feeds and dirty nappies? It doesn’t help that instead of a proper beat, we have Jay-Z muttering ‘BOUNCE!’ as if he’s grumpily shooing a dog off his lawn. It’s confusing and uncomfortable, yet compelling and convincing, and I’m still listening. The risk has paid off.

Will Adams on “Rock With U” [5.83]

“Just Dance” is often thought of as ground zero for the rise of dancepop and eventually EDM in the US, but it had been brewing for over a year before the Lady Gaga song topped the Hot 100 in early 2009. From 2007 onward, the increased interest in incorporating elements of disco via four-on-the-floor beats and faster tempos created some indelible hybrids, particularly in the R&B world: “Don’t Stop the Music”; “Forever”; “Closer”; “Spotlight”; and “Rock With U.” While most of those songs stuck to traditional verse-chorus pop structure, “Rock With U” proves that sometimes simplicity is best: A house arrangement of arpeggios and basic rhythms. A single verse, repeated three times and interspersed with wordless vocalizing with nearly no variation, save for Janet’s whispers. All this, combined with the glorious one-shot video, creates a hypnotic effect, like the song will go on forever. On a recent Song Exploder episode about “Honey,” Robyn said of dance music: “It’s about putting you in a place where you’re in your body dancing without thinking about when it’s gonna end. It’s more about the moment and how it makes you feel.” This is the heart of “Rock With U”: an invitation to get lost in the music, forget about the outside world, and just rock.

Maxwell Cavaseno on “So Much Betta” [5.67]

The beginning of the 2010s was way too challenging in retrospect and I regret every minute of it. “So Much Betta” was a song I first heard in a mix by Robin Carolan, now best known for founding and guiding Tri-Angle Records, but for a brief period operated a side-blog called “SO BONES” where he’d pontificate about random gems of pop, R&B and rap but in a way that made records feel gross and sinister. Suddenly Cassie’s “My House” was a ghost story, Vanessa Hudgens’s “Don’t Talk” would be compared to Takashi Miike’s Audition, and so on. In retrospect I think of the Capital P Pop songs of the decade that I’ve responded to enthusiastically like “TT,” “Cheyenne,” “Strangers,” “Somebody Else,” “Backseat,” “Lac Troi” or the dozens of others there is at least usually a despair or gloom I can at minimum project onto the record even where it might not be obvious. And that comes from hearing Janet Jackson whisper over a record that sounded like some toxic goo from out of the dregs of the Rinse.FM swamps I’d often thought to be “the coolest” sounds, before cutting through over glistening synths that felt like a phantom of not Janet per se but her brother’s past. It was a song that felt v. strange in 2010 well after MJ had died with the listless echo of the Pop Monarch feeling less like a dream-like invocation and more like a degraded copy of a copy in its grotesquery. Enough can be said about how cool and timeless and bright and powerful Janet at her best can feel. But it deserves an acknowledgement that she could also make a song that was so evocative in all the most unpleasant of ways.

William John on “Unbreakable” [6.67]

“Unbreakable” as an adjective is applicable to those rare, unending, strong relationships between people, whether they be romantic, platonic, familial, or, as has been intimated in relation to her song of the same name, between performer and audience. But it’s also a word that can be used to describe oneself, and one’s ability to traverse adversity with stoicism. The first song on Jackson’s most recent album doesn’t sound defiant – more “stroll to the supermarket on a warm summer’s evening” than an escapade to Rhythm Nation. But courage manifests in different ways. Jackson’s breezy delivery, which takes on an ecstatic form in the song’s chorus, is indicative of her self-assurance at her status; she’s embracing the languor allowed to her as a legend. She may have been removed of her clothes in front of the whole world a decade prior; she may have spent her whole life in the shadow of her infamous relative – but she hasn’t faltered. She’s still here. As she greets her listeners in her inviting whisper at the song’s conclusion, she notes that it’s “been a while” since her last missive, and that there is “lots to talk about”. But her listeners aren’t impatient; there’s always time for Janet. Her story has always been one of control, of poise, of excellence. Long may it continue.

Pedro Joao Santos on “Dream Maker/Euphoria” [5.17]

When I get to delve deep into a legend, as with Janet, I tend to hit the ground running and have them release a new, great album a few months later. Not having heard 20 Y.O. and Discipline, I was shielded from the Janet-isms from the ’00s and viewed Unbreakable as a proper continuation to her legacy, instead of the grand comeback it actually was — hackneyed artwork, halted tour and all. Janet got the upper hand, finding her reunited with Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, in a steadfast gaze in a steadfast gaze over airtight, pensive and giddy R&B. An exemplary return to form, incidentally devoid of all the raunch, bathroom breaks and Kioko.

One older Janet-ism survived in a marginal capacity: the penchant for interludes, continued here in only two moments (aside from endearing sneezes and spoken-word outros): one was the bizarre preview for a Target-exclusive full track; the other was “Dream Maker/Euphoria”. A precise inflection point scribed upon the passage from “side 1” to “2” — even if things threaten to get a bit pedestrian and humdrum in the last half. The track itself is a dual mood, yet a continual trek through the glow of a renaissance. A seemingly old groove recalling the Jackson 5 gets dusted from the vaults for the first part. That’s ear candy for ages in itself, a web of vox so intensely feverish and melodically preternatural. It gets looped tantalisingly, then it transcends onto the next level. Full-on rapid eye movement: keyboards and ambience make up the sound of eyelids opening to meet a purple, unreal sky — suspended between worlds, a dream dimension of utopia and the reality where those ideas must coalesce. “I guess the dreamer must be awake,” Janet concludes after envisioning a “perfect place” exempt from “jealousy, abuse or hate,” “war, hunger or hate.”

Janet’s  four peak-era albums alone prove she’s been excelling at world-building where and when the world was far from ready. In “Dream Maker/Euphoria,” it isn’t so much the stark condemnations of Rhythm Nation 1814, but its more hopeful fantasies, articulated through the confident tone of Control, set to the type of innovative musical reverie The Velvet Rope predated, softened through janet.’s sensuous filter. But more than the touchpoints of yesteryear, the essence of “Dream Maker/Euphoria” lives in its manifestation of the future: how tangible and expansive it might just become, if given a chance.

[johnsoedercc]

I wrote this profile of record producer extraordinaire and philanthropist Tommy LiPuma for The Plain Dealer, on the occasion of a Tri-C JazzFest salute to him that coincided with the “Modern American Masters: Highlights From the Gill and Tommy LiPuma Collection” exhibition at the Cleveland Museum of Art.

The Art of Tommy LiPuma

By John Soeder published April 11, 2004, in The Plain Dealer

NEW YORK – Yes, he produced a chart-topping album for Barbra Streisand.

And yes, he also had a hand in Grammy-winning recordings by George Benson, Natalie Cole and Diana Krall.

Running down the mile-long list of his accomplishments as a record producer and music industry executive, however, it’s easy to overlook one of Tommy LiPuma’s most truly remarkable achievements:

He made a Wham! fan out of Miles Davis.

The late, great jazz trumpeter visited LiPuma at home in the 1980s to discuss working together. LiPuma popped a cassette by the George Michael-fronted pop group of “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” fame into the stereo.

Davis “freaked out,” LiPuma says. “He loved it.”

Who knew?

LiPuma recounts the story over lunch at Sistina, his favorite Italian restaurant. It’s not open for lunch, mind you – unless you’re Tommy LiPuma, in which case you and a guest have the dining room all to yourselves on a snowy March afternoon.

Such are the perks when you’re chairman of the world’s largest jazz record company, Verve Music Group. LiPuma, a former Clevelander, has held the title since 1998.

He’ll be back in his hometown this week for the 25th annual Tri-C JazzFest. Benson, Krall, Dr. John, Joe Lovano, Jimmy Scott and others perform Saturday at Playhouse Square’s Allen Theatre in a salute to LiPuma, 67.

“I’m honored,” he says. “On the other hand, it makes you wonder: Are you coming toward the twilight of your career? Frankly, I feel I’m at the top of my game.”

LiPuma co-produced three albums for Davis, starting with 1986’s “Tutu.” It included a cover of “Perfect Way,” originally done by Scritti Politti, another 1980s pop act that LiPuma brought to the attention of Davis.

“He wasn’t what I call a jazz cop,” LiPuma says. “He loved all kinds of music.”

Ditto LiPuma. He wholeheartedly buys into the old Duke Ellington maxim: There are only two kinds of music – the good kind and the other kind.

LiPuma’s latest productions are albums by Al Jarreau and Krall.

Veteran vocalist Jarreau’s “Accentuate the Positive” is due in stores Tuesday, Aug. 3. LiPuma was behind the mixing board for two previous Jarreau releases, “Glow” (1976) and the live double album “Look to the Rainbow” (1977).

“He’s a brilliant producer,” says Jarreau, who performs Friday at the Allen Theatre as part of the JazzFest’s “Silver on Silver” salute to another LiPuma client, hard-bop pianist Horace Silver.

LiPuma has a knack for “knowing artists, knowing what they do, allowing them to do it and then pushing them where he thinks their strengths are — and beyond those strengths,” Jarreau says.

While working on his new album, Jarreau found himself scatting the melody of “Groovin’ High,” a Charlie Parker-Dizzy Gillespie chestnut: “Duh-dut, duh-dut-dut, bah-doo-bee-ooh-bee-ooh-duh-dut’ll-doo-day.…”

LiPuma’s ears pricked up. “Is there a lyric, Al?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve thought about doing a lyric for it,” Jarreau replied.

LiPuma encouraged him to go for it.

Jarreau did. The finished track turned out to be “one of my best efforts,” he says.

Krall’s new album, “The Girl in the Other Room,” comes out Tuesday, April 27. It features six songs co-written by the singer-pianist and her husband, rocker Elvis Costello.

LiPuma co-produced “The Girl in the Other Room” with Krall, whom he refers to as “my baby.” He has overseen seven of her eight albums.

“Tommy is my ears — he can hear things I can’t hear,” Krall said in a 2001 interview with The Plain Dealer. “He loves music, art, beauty and all the meaningful things in life, including really good wine.”

At Sistina, LiPuma orders a bowl of pasta. It arrives perfectly al dente and prepared, per his specifications, with cherry tomatoes. A seafood dish follows in short order.

“This is the branzino,” LiPuma says, digging into the Italian-style sea bass. “Delicious!”

Between sips of espresso in the afterglow of the meal, he’ll gladly tell you about working with ultradiva Streisand on “The Way We Were,” her 1974 No. 1 album: “She knows exactly what she wants.”

Or the truth behind “Weekend in L.A.,” singer-guitarist Benson’s 1977 live album: “It wasn’t really as live as it sounded…. We had to redo the vocals.”

Or the emotional experience of recording the title track of Cole’s 1991 “Unforgettable” album, a virtual duet between the singer and her late father, Nat “King” Cole: “When we did it, it stopped all of us in our tracks.”

Lawyers, accountants running the show

LiPuma lights up when he talks about music. But his mood turns somber when the conversation turns to the music business.

“The sooner corporate America gets out of it, the happier I’m going to be,” he says.

Verve Music Group is the parent company of four record labels: Verve, Impulse!, GRP (which LiPuma ran in the 1990s) and Blue Thumb (where LiPuma worked in the late ’60s and early ’70s with such acts as Dan Hicks and Dave Mason).

In addition to a catalog rich with jazz greats (Ellington, Count Basie, John Coltrane, Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday, among others), the company’s current artist roster includes the likes of Krall, Jarreau, Benson, violinist Regina Carter and keyboardist Herbie Hancock.

Verve Music Group is a subsidiary of the world’s leading music company, Universal Music Group, which had revenues of $6 billion in 2003. Universal (itself a division of multinational media conglomerate Vivendi Universal) does not release specific financial data for its subsidiaries.

“The record business used to be basically a group of entrepreneurs … who made gut decisions and ran their own ships,” LiPuma says. “They didn’t have to worry about making their quarter or if Wall Street was going to give them its blessing. They were music people.

"Today, with a few exceptions, you have lawyers and accountants running the show. It’s very unfortunate.”

LiPuma has delegated the day-to-day responsibilities (read: headaches) of running Verve Music Group to his second-in-command, President and CEO Ron Goldstein.

“I handle the creative aspects,” LiPuma says. “When you make records, all you want is the right performance…. As a producer, everything is about waiting for the moment when the artist drops a magic take. One of the most important parts of my job is knowing when the moment happens.”

Magic has struck in the studio time and again for LiPuma, who has made more than 20 gold, platinum or multiplatinum records. He also has won three Grammy Awards: Record of the Year in 1976 for Benson’s smash “This Masquerade,” Album of the Year in 1991 for Cole’s “Unforgettable” and Best Jazz Vocal Album in 2002 for Krall’s “Live in Paris.”

The way he was: Cleveland roots

Born in Cleveland to Italian immigrants, LiPuma was the youngest of five children. His brothers, Joe and Henry, and sister Therese still live in the area; another sister, Josephine, died in 1984.

LiPuma’s family moved often when he was young, from Cleveland’s Kinsman neighborhood to University Heights to Warrensville Heights to Beachwood.

“The radio was always on in our house,” LiPuma says. “In those days, it was Bing Crosby, the Andrews Sisters, Jo Stafford.

"Some way or another, I ended up where I ended up. But I’m a pop junkie. I love great pop music.

"By the time I was 18, I loved bebop — Charlie Parker, Horace Silver, all those guys. But it didn’t take away from my love for pop music.”

When he was 9, LiPuma developed osteomyelitis, a debilitating bone infection. He spent nearly three years laid up in bed.

“The radio became my friend,” he says. “I discovered the R&B station in those days, WJMO, and I started hearing Charles Brown, Louis Jordan, Nat Cole and Ruth Brown. I was a complete R&B nut by the time I was 12.

"Then I started playing saxophone…. I’ll never forget: The music teacher at Shaker Heights Junior High School gave me an F in music because I didn’t show up for a concert.”

LiPuma dropped out of school when he was 18, although he only made it through 10th grade. His illness had left him two grades behind his friends. “I felt out of place,” he says.

By then, he was earning $25 a night playing sax in local clubs.

His father, a barber, sent LiPuma to barber college and gave him a loan to buy a barbershop in the Keith Building on Euclid Avenue in Cleveland. Among his customers were various radio disc jockeys, including future “American Top 40” host Casey Kasem, who used to work at the old WJW AM/850.

But LiPuma’s heart wasn’t into cutting hair. He leased the shop, packed his sax and hit the road for a year with a jazz combo.

Upon his return to Cleveland in 1960, LiPuma got a job as a record promoter with M.S. Distributors.

The following year, he was hired to do promotion for Liberty Records. He later transferred to the company’s music publishing division. LiPuma primarily was based in Los Angeles, although he briefly lived in New York in 1962 and relocated there permanently in 1984.

The first album he produced was “Comin’ Through,” the 1965 debut by an R&B group from Canton — the O’Jays.

Making hits, taking hits

He scored his first gold record one year later with the Sandpipers. The easy-listening trio’s Top 10 single “Guantanamera” was produced by LiPuma, who also recited the spoken-word bit in the middle of the tune: “I am a truthful man from the land of the palm trees… .”

He went on to work as a producer and A&R (artists and repertoire) executive for several other record companies, including A&M, Warner Bros. and Elektra. Along the way, LiPuma collaborated with a range of artists, from Dr. John to Michael Franks to Joe Sample.

Somebody once asked LiPuma how it felt to be the father of smooth jazz. He was mortified.

“I detest — de-test! — smooth jazz,” he says. “Shall I call it the height of mediocrity? Everything has become so predictable.

"The jazz community can blame itself for what ultimately ended up happening with jazz. Basically, it has gone nowhere.”

Some jazz purists blame LiPuma for his pop-savvy meddling — at least to hear him tell it.

“Critics like Gary Giddins hate my [expletive] guts,” LiPuma says. “They think I’m the Antichrist. [Giddins] referred to me as a hack.”

Giddins, former jazz critic for The Village Voice and the author of biographies of Louis Armstrong, Bing Crosby and Charlie Parker, is widely regarded as a top jazz authority. (Even LiPuma says Giddins is “erudite.”)

Giddins gave his side of the story via e-mail last week.

“I don’t hate Tommy LiPuma’s ‘[expletive] guts,’ ” he wrote. “It is possible that I once referred to him as a hack, but I can’t recall the occasion and a global search of everything on my hard drive, dating back 20 years, turns up only one mention of his name.”

In a review of the 1997 JVC Jazz Festival, Giddins made a passing reference to LiPuma as “the record industry menace who specializes in convincing good musicians to play bad music.”

‘A rare breed’ and ‘a beautiful cat’

Tommy LiPuma — a “menace”? Jarreau scoffs at the notion.

LiPuma is “a rare breed,” Jarreau says. “Maybe a guy like Tommy is too nice for this industry.”

Sax player David Sanborn, on the bill for the JazzFest’s Silver tribute, has cut a couple of albums with LiPuma.

“You can always tell a Tommy LiPuma production,” Sanborn says. “He makes high-class, high-quality records…. He has the ability to make records with broad appeal, too.

"I don’t think there’s anything intrinsically wrong with a lot of people liking your music. If you’re doing something you don’t believe in, that’s another story. But I don’t think Tommy has ever done that. . . . He has a real passion for the music.”

LiPuma is “a beautiful cat,” says another music legend from Cleveland, jazz singer Jimmy Scott. His 1992 comeback album, “All the Way,” was produced by LiPuma.

“He knows his stuff,” Scott says. “If you have an idea and you talk it over with him, he’ll make it happen. He doesn’t limit his thoughts about the music.”

LiPuma doesn’t limit his interests to music, either.

Paintings by American Modernists usually fill his Park Avenue apartment, although for the time being, the walls are dotted with empty hooks. “Modern American Masters: Highlights From the Gill and Tommy LiPuma Collection” is on view through Sunday, July 18, at the Cleveland Museum of Art. The exhibition features works by some of LiPuma’s favorite artists (not of the recording variety), including Alfred Maurer, Marsden Hartley and Arnold Friedman.

Gill is LiPuma’s wife of 35 years. They have two grown daughters.

“I love art…. You’ve got structure, form, textures — the same things you have in music,” says LiPuma, recently elected a trustee of the Smithsonian Institution’s Archives of American Art.

“I’d like to be a private [art] dealer,” he says. “I also still enjoy making records. I don’t want to stop…. At this point, the last thing I’m thinking about is retirement.”

[johnsoedercma-blog]

For me, it doesn’t get any better than telling stories about people with a passion for the arts. I wrote this profile of record producer extraordinaire and philanthropist Tommy LiPuma for The Plain Dealer, on the occasion of a Tri-C JazzFest salute to him that coincided with the "Modern American Masters: Highlights From the Gill and Tommy LiPuma Collection" exhibition at the Cleveland Museum of Art.

The Art of Tommy LiPuma

By John Soeder published April 11, 2004, in The Plain Dealer

NEW YORK – Yes, he produced a chart-topping album for Barbra Streisand.

And yes, he also had a hand in Grammy-winning recordings by George Benson, Natalie Cole and Diana Krall.

Running down the mile-long list of his accomplishments as a record producer and music industry executive, however, it’s easy to overlook one of Tommy LiPuma’s most truly remarkable achievements:

He made a Wham! fan out of Miles Davis. 

The late, great jazz trumpeter visited LiPuma at home in the 1980s to discuss working together. LiPuma popped a cassette by the George Michael-fronted pop group of "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" fame into the stereo.

Davis "freaked out," LiPuma says. "He loved it."

Who knew?

LiPuma recounts the story over lunch at Sistina, his favorite Italian restaurant. It’s not open for lunch, mind you – unless you’re Tommy LiPuma, in which case you and a guest have the dining room all to yourselves on a snowy March afternoon.

Such are the perks when you’re chairman of the world’s largest jazz record company, Verve Music Group. LiPuma, a former Clevelander, has held the title since 1998.

He’ll be back in his hometown this week for the 25th annual Tri-C JazzFest. Benson, Krall, Dr. John, Joe Lovano, Jimmy Scott and others perform Saturday at Playhouse Square’s Allen Theatre in a salute to LiPuma, 67.

"I’m honored," he says. "On the other hand, it makes you wonder: Are you coming toward the twilight of your career? Frankly, I feel I’m at the top of my game."

LiPuma co-produced three albums for Davis, starting with 1986’s "Tutu." It included a cover of "Perfect Way," originally done by Scritti Politti, another 1980s pop act that LiPuma brought to the attention of Davis.

"He wasn’t what I call a jazz cop," LiPuma says. "He loved all kinds of music."

Ditto LiPuma. He wholeheartedly buys into the old Duke Ellington maxim: There are only two kinds of music – the good kind and the other kind.

LiPuma’s latest productions are albums by Al Jarreau and Krall.

Veteran vocalist Jarreau’s "Accentuate the Positive" is due in stores Tuesday, Aug. 3. LiPuma was behind the mixing board for two previous Jarreau releases, "Glow" (1976) and the live double album "Look to the Rainbow" (1977).

"He’s a brilliant producer," says Jarreau, who performs Friday at the Allen Theatre as part of the JazzFest’s "Silver on Silver" salute to another LiPuma client, hard-bop pianist Horace Silver.

LiPuma has a knack for "knowing artists, knowing what they do, allowing them to do it and then pushing them where he thinks their strengths are — and beyond those strengths," Jarreau says.

While working on his new album, Jarreau found himself scatting the melody of "Groovin’ High," a Charlie Parker-Dizzy Gillespie chestnut: "Duh-dut, duh-dut-dut, bah-doo-bee-ooh-bee-ooh-duh-dut’ll-doo-day. . . ."

LiPuma’s ears pricked up. "Is there a lyric, Al?" he asked.

"Well, I’ve thought about doing a lyric for it," Jarreau replied.

LiPuma encouraged him to go for it.

Jarreau did. The finished track turned out to be "one of my best efforts," he says.

Krall’s new album, "The Girl in the Other Room," comes out Tuesday, April 27. It features six songs co-written by the singer-pianist and her husband, rocker Elvis Costello.

LiPuma co-produced "The Girl in the Other Room" with Krall, whom he refers to as "my baby." He has overseen seven of her eight albums.

"Tommy is my ears — he can hear things I can’t hear," Krall said in a 2001 interview with The Plain Dealer. "He loves music, art, beauty and all the meaningful things in life, including really good wine."

At Sistina, LiPuma orders a bowl of pasta. It arrives perfectly al dente and prepared, per his specifications, with cherry tomatoes. A seafood dish follows in short order.

"This is the branzino," LiPuma says, digging into the Italian-style sea bass. "Delicious!"

Between sips of espresso in the afterglow of the meal, he’ll gladly tell you about working with ultradiva Streisand on "The Way We Were," her 1974 No. 1 album: "She knows exactly what she wants."

Or the truth behind "Weekend in L.A.," singer-guitarist Benson’s 1977 live album: "It wasn’t really as live as it sounded. . . . We had to redo the vocals."

Or the emotional experience of recording the title track of Cole’s 1991 "Unforgettable" album, a virtual duet between the singer and her late father, Nat "King" Cole: "When we did it, it stopped all of us in our tracks."

Lawyers, accountants running the show

LiPuma lights up when he talks about music. But his mood turns somber when the conversation turns to the music business.

"The sooner corporate America gets out of it, the happier I’m going to be," he says.

Verve Music Group is the parent company of four record labels: Verve, Impulse!, GRP (which LiPuma ran in the 1990s) and Blue Thumb (where LiPuma worked in the late ’60s and early ’70s with such acts as Dan Hicks and Dave Mason).

In addition to a catalog rich with jazz greats (Ellington, Count Basie, John Coltrane, Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday, among others), the company’s current artist roster includes the likes of Krall, Jarreau, Benson, violinist Regina Carter and keyboardist Herbie Hancock.

Verve Music Group is a subsidiary of the world’s leading music company, Universal Music Group, which had revenues of $6 billion in 2003. Universal (itself a division of multinational media conglomerate Vivendi Universal) does not release specific financial data for its subsidiaries.

"The record business used to be basically a group of entrepreneurs . . . who made gut decisions and ran their own ships," LiPuma says. "They didn’t have to worry about making their quarter or if Wall Street was going to give them its blessing. They were music people.

"Today, with a few exceptions, you have lawyers and accountants running the show. It’s very unfortunate."

LiPuma has delegated the day-to-day responsibilities (read: headaches) of running Verve Music Group to his second-in-command, President and CEO Ron Goldstein.

"I handle the creative aspects," LiPuma says. "When you make records, all you want is the right performance. . . . As a producer, everything is about waiting for the moment when the artist drops a magic take. One of the most important parts of my job is knowing when the moment happens."

Magic has struck in the studio time and again for LiPuma, who has made more than 20 gold, platinum or multiplatinum records. He also has won three Grammy Awards: Record of the Year in 1976 for Benson’s smash "This Masquerade," Album of the Year in 1991 for Cole’s "Unforgettable" and Best Jazz Vocal Album in 2002 for Krall’s "Live in Paris."

The way he was: Cleveland roots

Born in Cleveland to Italian immigrants, LiPuma was the youngest of five children. His brothers, Joe and Henry, and sister Therese still live in the area; another sister, Josephine, died in 1984.

LiPuma’s family moved often when he was young, from Cleveland’s Kinsman neighborhood to University Heights to Warrensville Heights to Beachwood.

"The radio was always on in our house," LiPuma says. "In those days, it was Bing Crosby, the Andrews Sisters, Jo Stafford.

"Some way or another, I ended up where I ended up. But I’m a pop junkie. I love great pop music.

"By the time I was 18, I loved bebop — Charlie Parker, Horace Silver, all those guys. But it didn’t take away from my love for pop music."

When he was 9, LiPuma developed osteomyelitis, a debilitating bone infection. He spent nearly three years laid up in bed.

"The radio became my friend," he says. "I discovered the R&B station in those days, WJMO, and I started hearing Charles Brown, Louis Jordan, Nat Cole and Ruth Brown. I was a complete R&B nut by the time I was 12.

"Then I started playing saxophone. . . . I’ll never forget: The music teacher at Shaker Heights Junior High School gave me an F in music because I didn’t show up for a concert."

LiPuma dropped out of school when he was 18, although he only made it through 10th grade. His illness had left him two grades behind his friends. "I felt out of place," he says.

By then, he was earning $25 a night playing sax in local clubs.

His father, a barber, sent LiPuma to barber college and gave him a loan to buy a barbershop in the Keith Building on Euclid Avenue in Cleveland. Among his customers were various radio disc jockeys, including future "American Top 40" host Casey Kasem, who used to work at the old WJW AM/850.

But LiPuma’s heart wasn’t into cutting hair. He leased the shop, packed his sax and hit the road for a year with a jazz combo.

Upon his return to Cleveland in 1960, LiPuma got a job as a record promoter with M.S. Distributors.

The following year, he was hired to do promotion for Liberty Records. He later transferred to the company’s music publishing division. LiPuma primarily was based in Los Angeles, although he briefly lived in New York in 1962 and relocated there permanently in 1984.

The first album he produced was "Comin’ Through," the 1965 debut by an R&B group from Canton — the O’Jays.

Making hits, taking hits

He scored his first gold record one year later with the Sandpipers. The easy-listening trio’s Top 10 single "Guantanamera" was produced by LiPuma, who also recited the spoken-word bit in the middle of the tune: "I am a truthful man from the land of the palm trees. . . ."

He went on to work as a producer and A&R (artists and repertoire) executive for several other record companies, including A&M, Warner Bros. and Elektra. Along the way, LiPuma collaborated with a range of artists, from Dr. John to Michael Franks to Joe Sample.

Somebody once asked LiPuma how it felt to be the father of smooth jazz. He was mortified.

"I detest — de-test! — smooth jazz," he says. "Shall I call it the height of mediocrity? Everything has become so predictable.

"The jazz community can blame itself for what ultimately ended up happening with jazz. Basically, it has gone nowhere."

Some jazz purists blame LiPuma for his pop-savvy meddling — at least to hear him tell it.

"Critics like Gary Giddins hate my [expletive] guts," LiPuma says. "They think I’m the Antichrist. [Giddins] referred to me as a hack."

Giddins, former jazz critic for The Village Voice and the author of biographies of Louis Armstrong, Bing Crosby and Charlie Parker, is widely regarded as a top jazz authority. (Even LiPuma says Giddins is "erudite.")

Giddins gave his side of the story via e-mail last week.

"I don’t hate Tommy LiPuma’s ‘[expletive] guts,’ " he wrote. "It is possible that I once referred to him as a hack, but I can’t recall the occasion and a global search of everything on my hard drive, dating back 20 years, turns up only one mention of his name."

In a review of the 1997 JVC Jazz Festival, Giddins made a passing reference to LiPuma as "the record industry menace who specializes in convincing good musicians to play bad music."

‘A rare breed’ and ‘a beautiful cat’

Tommy LiPuma — a "menace"? Jarreau scoffs at the notion.

LiPuma is "a rare breed," Jarreau says. "Maybe a guy like Tommy is too nice for this industry."

Sax player David Sanborn, on the bill for the JazzFest’s Silver tribute, has cut a couple of albums with LiPuma.

"You can always tell a Tommy LiPuma production," Sanborn says. "He makes high-class, high-quality records. . . . He has the ability to make records with broad appeal, too.

"I don’t think there’s anything intrinsically wrong with a lot of people liking your music. If you’re doing something you don’t believe in, that’s another story. But I don’t think Tommy has ever done that. . . . He has a real passion for the music."

LiPuma is "a beautiful cat," says another music legend from Cleveland, jazz singer Jimmy Scott. His 1992 comeback album, "All the Way," was produced by LiPuma.

"He knows his stuff," Scott says. "If you have an idea and you talk it over with him, he’ll make it happen. He doesn’t limit his thoughts about the music."

LiPuma doesn’t limit his interests to music, either.

Paintings by American Modernists usually fill his Park Avenue apartment, although for the time being, the walls are dotted with empty hooks. "Modern American Masters: Highlights From the Gill and Tommy LiPuma Collection" is on view through Sunday, July 18, at the Cleveland Museum of Art. The exhibition features works by some of LiPuma’s favorite artists (not of the recording variety), including Alfred Maurer, Marsden Hartley and Arnold Friedman.

Gill is LiPuma’s wife of 35 years. They have two grown daughters.

"I love art. . . . You’ve got structure, form, textures — the same things you have in music," says LiPuma, recently elected a trustee of the Smithsonian Institution’s Archives of American Art.

"I’d like to be a private [art] dealer," he says. "I also still enjoy making records. I don’t want to stop. . . . At this point, the last thing I’m thinking about is retirement."