#some very famous musicians released some very bad albums last year and the year before and theres simply no excuse

[barebevil]

watching the Todd in the shadows top 10 worst hit songs of 2023 video you know todd and it reminded me that is to say ive come on here and started typing because i want to talk about how 2023 was actually a ridiculously good year for music like better than it had any reason to be. I'm going to make a list of my favorite albums that came out this year now:

PARANOÏA, ANGLES, TRUE LOVE - Christine and the Queens

My 21st Century Blues - RAYE

The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess - Chappell Roan

Did you know there's a tunnel under Ocean Blvd - Lana Del Rey

The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We - Mitski

Rituals On The Bank Of A Familiar River - Kiki Rockwell

Jaguar II - Victoria Monét

and these are just the ones i remember off the top of my head and also know all the words to. i liked the new hozier i like guts i liked but did not find the time to submerge myself into like a mudbath sufjan's javelin and in all honesty i did listen mostly to the same 3 playlists last year and then a handful of albums that all came out in 2022 because holy shit was THAT a year in music whew

let us all listen to good music in the new year G-d knows we need it

[juleecruisearchive]

A Star Is Born

by Greg Kot It could well be a plot summary of Blue Velvet, or perhaps Twin Peaks: “It’s all about relationships-inside and outside the company. Famous film directors. Composers. Me. It’s so complicated and giant and strange.” But it’s actually Julee Cruise, the diminutive musician-actress whose angelic voice has graced the provocative Blue Velvet movie and the hit Twin Peaks TV series, talking about life with David Lynch.

After being released to critical raves and commercial indifference last year, Cruise’s Floating Into the Night (Warner) album has cracked the Top 100 pop charts, thanks in part to the success of Twin Peaks. Floating Into the Night provides theme music for the show, and Cruise appeared in an episode of the Lynch-produced series as a roadhouse singer.

The album, full of deceptively straightforward romantic lyrics written by Lynch and an alternately lulling and jarring score composed by Angelo Badalamenti, sounds like nothing else in pop music. Cruise sings in a soft, child-like soprano over a cushion of purring keyboards and percussion, only to have myriad sound effects disrupt the mood: guitars out of Ennio Morricone’s spaghetti westerns, early ‘60s girl-group choruses and Big Band horns. It’s not unlike watching a Lynch movie: Just when you think you have a handle on things, something strange and discomforting happens.

“The person singing those songs is very lonesome; in fact, she’s losing her mind,” Cruise said with a laugh. It’s clear that besides being a mesmerizing singing performance, Floating Into the Night is also a first-rate acting job.

“Technically this music is so delicate that it’s a challenge just to sing it,” she said. “But at the same time, it allows me to be more dramatic, more psychotic than if I were just singing ‘Oh, baby, baby’ into the microphone. Certain things you can’t overact while you’re singing. This, I can overact and get away with it. I can stylize it.”

Cruise met Lynch after he had hired her friend, Badalamenti, to work on the score of Blue Velvet in 1986. “David wrote the lyrics out on a napkin and gave Angelo a few instructions,” she said. “Angelo wrote the music based on that.”

She rounded up some other singers, none of whom could negotiate the nebulous, free-floating rhythms and subdued, dark textures of the song, Mysteries of Love. Finally, she tried it herself.

“There was just the hint of a melody, no breaks in the music, no place for a singer to breathe,” she said. “At first I said I couldn’t do it. I didn’t think I could hold my breath that long.” But she so impressed Lynch and Badalamenti with her interpretation that they insisted on pushing the project further, into a full album.

While the record deal took shape, Cruise took a job as a Janis Joplin-style singer in a New York play and “completely butchered my vocal cords.”

“I had to hit rock bottom and almost lose my voice before I could learn how to use my voice for this album,” she said. She also gave up smoking, and as the album progressed, her voice grew stronger.

“On half of the album, they had to overdub my voice three or four times to make it sound strong enough,” she said. “But by the last half of the recording, my voice was strong enough to stand on its own.”

The album’s unique mixture of sounds, its undercurrent of stylized madness, evolved as the three worked together. “There were times I was worried that it was going to sound too clichéd, too bland,” she said. “The track I Remember, for example, sounded like something out of a bad soap opera at first. Then, by accident, we came up with these weird synthesizer notes that transformed the song into something credible, something with real bite to it.”

Though critics loved the album, commercial radio didn’t know what to make of it. But the success of Twin Peaks has rekindled interest in all things Lynch. “I wasn’t counting on Twin Peaks changing anything for me,” Cruise said. “I didn`t think it would be a hit except with the black turtleneck crowd.”

The series’ broad-based appeal ensures that a second Cruise album will appear next year (“the same voice but with a different feel”), and that she’ll be singing in the Twin Peaks roadhouse next fall.

Though she has risen to the level of collaborator with Lynch, Cruise still remains a fan of his work. “I turn out all the lights, climb in my favorite chair and watch Twin Peaks on Thursday night just like everybody else,” she said.

And the notorious Blue Velvet? “It frightened and fascinated me,” she said. “It took me somewhere else.”

The same could be said for Julee Cruise's intensely introspective music. Source: Chicago Tribune June 17 1990

[thisaintascenereviews]

Artist Spotlight: Lakeview

A lot of people have the impression that certain styles of music shouldn’t go together, and two styles of music that many consider to be oil and water are country and metal. That’s not to say that certain bands don’t exist, such as Pantera that pioneered groove metal in the 1990s, and a lot of southern metalcore bands in the mid-00s, especially bands like Maylene & The Sons Of Disaster, The Ongoing Concept, and Every Time I Die who fused southern rock with metalcore. I absolutely loved that sound, but last year, an album that was the closest that would be a “guilty pleasure” for me was Hardy’s The Mockingbird & The Crow. The album was a double album, the first part “The Mockingbird” being a country side, whereas the “The Crow” side was a hard-rock, metalcore, and country mix. I enjoyed that side better, as it was looser, more fun, and a lot more energetic, but it was still pretty bland a lot of the time, Hardy’s voice isn’t that good, and the hooks ranged from pretty good to decent at best. The country side was the same, just even more bland, and while it’s aged fine, it’s nothing to write home about.

With that said, I was looking for more stuff in that vein, especially after seeing Cody Quistad of Wage War had a hand in writing some of the heavier cuts, but TikTok eventually showed me the band Lakeview. Composed of musicians Jesse Denaro and Luke Healy, these guys started off as a pop-country duo that eventually molted into a “country metal” band, and throughout the last couple of years, they’ve been slowly releasing singles every few months or so, and I randomly decided to give this band a listen for the first time in a couple of years, but I didn’t want to just review the singles themselves. If you’ve been reading my reviews for a long time, I debuted a new series that was entitled “Artist Spotlight” about two years ago, where instead of reviewing an album from an artist, I talked about the artist as a whole, but I only did that one time. I intended on making that a regular series, especially if I dove into an artist and they either didn’t have much music out, or I listened to multiple albums at a time, but the opportunity never arose.

The opportunity never arose until now, at least, because I thought that Lakeview would be the perfect candidate for this series, as they only have a handful of singles. What I thought would be interesting would be to go through the history of this band and the last few years, ultimately going over their growth, because you can tell that they’ve matured and grew as musicians and songwriters. These guys formed a few years back, and they were in a couple of metalcore bands back in the early 2010s, so you can immediately hear that influence in their later singles, but they signed with Photo Finish Records, and they put out a few singles, as well as the 2021 EP, Small Town Famous. This is the “worst” part of their discography, and I use that in quotes, because this is a very generic pop-country EP that only slightly shows their potential and what they would eventually sound like. The band has said that before they left their contract in 2022, they couldn’t confirm or deny what the label would say they should sound like, as well as what they could release out of what they wrote, but you can tell that this EP was written to appease the label. It’s got some good hooks, such as the hard-rock-ish sound of “Hits Different,” but a lot of the EP has the same sense of lyricism. Three out of five songs are exclusively about drinking, and while the hooks are fine, the lyrics are very bland, but they have some charm. The sound is pretty generic, at least for pop-country standards, but if someone isn’t into hard rock or metal, and enjoys country, this EP would be a good place to start with. I did listen to a couple of other singles they put out before the EP, and unfortunately, they’re not good. They aren’t bad, either, but they’re so generic, it hurts. At least the hooks on the EP are better, but the other singles from this time just aren’t interesting or memorable at all.

The follow-up singles are where things get interesting and a whole lot better, but their debut EP isn’t bad. “Want It Back” and “Loser,” the two singles released after the EP and before they went independent, are a lot better. They’re also a lot heavier, as they include groovy and beefy metalcore-esque guitar riffs, but they still have that country sound. This is where I would call them “country metal,” and while their lyrics are still nothing extraordinary, they’re a lot better, because they aren’t just about drinking, although they still lean on country cliches, especially heartbreak and ex-girlfriends. The hooks are stronger, though, as well as their penchant for taking metalcore riffs and pairing them with a country twang.

The next few singles are pretty solid, too, with the country metal bruiser “Son Of A” and “By Now,” the former of which being pretty fun and lighthearted, and has one of their heaviest riffs, whereas the latter is one of their “slower” songs, although it still features a pretty groovy riff. This is where I stopped listening to them for a bit, but since then, they put out four more songs, and these songs are great. My two favorites of the whole bunch that they’ve ever put out are “Rock Bottom” and “Home Team,” both of which are their heaviest songs (there’s even a slight scream on the former song), and their best written. The lyrics are some of their most interesting, too, especially “Home Team,” which seems to be a tribute to the middle class, but the last two songs they put out in the last few months of 2023 are quite good, too. “Neon Nightmare” is a song that has a ring to it, but it’s about this woman at a bar is no good for the narrator, hence the title, and “Drunk Prayer” is a slower track about the narrator wishing for a drunk prayer while he’s sitting at a bar stool going through it.

I really hope these guys release an album soon, either with these singles, or with totally new songs. They have a really cool sound, especially with their new stuff. Their debut EP is good, and you can hear bits and pieces of what they would eventually sound like, but if you want a good representation of their sound now, listen to the singles afterwards, especially anything from 2022 to now. In the same interview I read where they talked about how they left their label, and started moving their sound into a heavier direction, they also mentioned how hard it is for them to be placed on tours, because of how unique their sound is. They’re too country for metal and rock tours, but they’re too metal and rock for country tours, so where exactly do they go? I think they just need to go the route of Issues, and just go wherever they want, instead of letting tours and bands come to them. These guys have the potential to do some cool stuff, especially in metalcore, considering how the genre has been experimenting and progressing. A lot of pop and R&B elements have been seeping into the genre, so imagine country coming into the fold. If you want your metalcore in the form of “yallternative,” you’ll probably really like these guys. They’re a lot of fun, but they can get emotional when they need to, and they have a good sense of what makes a catchy hook, as well as utilizing metalcore riffs. They don’t come off extremely obnoxious as a lot of southern rock can, but they really just seem like metalcore guys who enjoy country a lot, and they take a lot of different sounds that they like to make for something their own. I can’t say I’ve listened to a lot of a country metal, so there’s something there for these guys to capitalize on.

[pissditching]

☝️yes i can. essay under the cut

first of all, no member of dunes is going to read this but on the off chance your name is anthony green, tucker rule, frank iero, time payne, and/or travis steever: you wouldn't be here if you weren't looking for answers. i hope you find them.

ls dunes is (and i'm almost 99% sure they've described themselves as this) a frankenband, a band made up of the members of other bands that have been very successful over the years. thursday, coheed and cambria, circa survive, my chemical romance, it's an impressive lineup full of undeniably talented musicians considered scene veterans who's names invoke a kind of instant respect on the basis of them being one of the best and one of the first. they famously refuse to call themselves what they are: a supergroup. this on its own is not an issue. there's no morality to it, it's a completely neutral decision and i think they should get to call their band whatever they want. however i think the outright rejection of the supergroup label does three things. 1. it deludes a group of people who have been some level of famous since they were at the very oldest 24 into believing that they're still hardcore. 2. it deludes an audience made up primarily of 14-25 year olds who have never been to a punk show in somebody's basement that this is hardcore. 3. it provides a lot of context and hindsight for the issues to come.

past lives is a good album. not good as in just ok, good as in it does some really interesting things musically and there are parts of it that i genuinely love (permanent rebellion remains my favorite song from them, i don't care if it was their first release they chose a banger to showcase themselves). i wouldn't go as far as the band and call it post hardcore, but it sounds like it was made by people who know how to make post hardcore (which it was!). what i'm trying to say is that there's nothing wrong with dunes musically, and i think that contributes to more problems than solves them. as an album, past lives sounds masterfully produced and written by people who know music, who know the kind of music they love, and have been creating music they love since before most of their fans were born. this from a self admitted supergroup would be above and beyond what is expected of them. however from a supergroup that's trying to posit themselves as a grassroots hardcore band, it comes off as ever so slightly disingenuous and corny. their music feels like it was ai generated (don't worry, we're gonna get to that) to be liked by circa, coheed, thursday, and my chem fans and people are starting to resent them for it. i've seen some people say it comes off as them wearing a punk costume from spirit halloween. i'm not quite of that intense of an opinion, but i see why someone would be.

this next issue bridges into the one above it, you'll see. the crowds at dunes shows were the first thing to make me say "this good thing isn't going to last" way back when they had only played a few small shows sans their debut at riot fest. ls dunes crowds are small on purpose, besides festivals the venues they play are small and local and utterly unequipped to handle the volume and type of person who wants to go to a dunes show. for example, my best friend ethan and i decided we wanted to see dunes the day of the show on a whim. i had heard dunes crowds could get weird, but they were coming to a venue that hosts acts like slaughter beach dog, jeff rosenstock, alex g, musicians of that size and crowds of that intensity. nothing could have honestly prepared me for driving up to the venue to buy tickets and seeing people camped outside hoping to get barricade (which. why does dunes have barricades? at local shows???) for ls dunes. the same small local venue where we hopped in line 10 minutes before doors for other bands and got like second row. we both decided this was a bad omen and left. the next day the person we saw at the front of the line had a call out post about them and their friends for camping at every mcr/dunes show to get frank side barricade to the point of shitting in diapers and inventing an arbitrary numbering system to make sure them and their friends were always first and spending an exorbitant amount of money in the process. i've heard of people getting their dick sucked in the pit, pissing, leaving heaps of trash inside and outside with their campsites, crowd crushing on Specifically frank's side of the stage, shouting at the band between songs, etc. this, all of this, could be solved if ls dunes admitted that the venues they're choosing can't handle the band. they need to admit to themselves that they're five people from four of the biggest bands in their scene with three separate dedicated fanbases and one fanbase that would steamroll a city to be 10 feet away from frank iero. tldr; ls dunes crowds are notoriously awful and in order to cull that awfulness, they need to stop pretending to be a small hardcore band and play bigger venues, for their safety and the safety of the crowd.

the documentary. first of all, very #punk of ls dunes to partner with amazon prime to release this documentary but that's not even what i'm talking about here. what part are we on? 4? 5? i haven't watched since part one. how many ten minute clips of a documentary that could have been just one normal length documentary (that probably would have been looked back on fondly if they hadn't released it like this) are they going to release. did i mention said documentary is about going to a small studio in the desert for a week or two to produce TWO songs? dunes has a habit of really milking it when it comes to the stuff they produce. past lives, the docuseries, the recently released demos of their first album, it's too much for a band that hasn't even had their second album (or birthday). i think of it like a meal where the appetizers won't stop coming. the onslaught and repetition of appetizers is starting to wear on people who have been waiting for dinner for hours and i'm worried that by the time they drop the main course, people are going to be so tired and full of them that they're not even going to touch it.

oh baby here we go. the ai debacle that turned into an antisemitism debacle that turned into an ethics question. let me just say this right now, people would not be as mad as they are about the ai thing if they remembered these people are in their 40s and more mad about the antisemitism but going about it in a different way if they listened to jewish people. to sum up the ai thing because quite honestly i view the other part of this as a far more pressing issue, anthony green off a sleepy time cbd gummy saw a video by an ai video generator (not calling these people artists because they are not) with ~trippy visuals~, consulted the band, and decided to pay the guy probably thousands to type some words in a box to make a video for them. given the theft inherent to ai art, this is a move that should be criticized (before the infamous doubling down, anthony admitted to someone in the comment section of the teaser they posted that he should have looked more into the ethics of ai before commissioning the video, which tells me the band at large knows this). soon, the comments of the teaser for the old wounds music video were filled with two kinds of people: people who had been dunes fans before this and knew ai was bad news, and right wing tech bros spurring them on, congratulating them for owning their "lib" fanbase, and harassing the former group of people with transphobia, homophobia, and racism. despite the immediate wave of criticism for this, the band decided to double down and stick with the ai video. do i think ls dunes is contributing to the death of art by commissioning an ai video generator for a music? well, yes and no. no because i think these are admittedly uninformed 40+ year old men who were looking for trippy visuals, found them, and didn't think about what it means to give money to the ai industry. i think they still value human art deeply and i don't see any of them dipping their toes into the world of ai again. yes because i think giving any money to the ai generators, no matter how uninformed the purchase was, is still a blow to human artists. i'm going to paragraph break here to avoid a impenetrable wall of text, but we're still talking about the same thing.

and then came the comment section on the double-down. and then long time friend of frank iero and musician derek zanetti made a dumbass comment that read "i heard frank iero is a lizard person". and then frank iero responded "unfortunately not the kind in charge of the new world order but i can save you 15% or more on car insurance". and just like that, frank iero's honorary njb card was torn asunder. suddenly, he couldn't 🤷🏻‍♀️ ktf 🖤��� out of this one. frank iero had just said something antisemitic, and twitter was waiting outside to jump him for it. quite honestly, he deserved to have his ass handed to him over this, but the way swaths of non-jewish people went about handing him said ass i fear did more harm than good.

antisemitism is one of the oldest bigotries on the planet. it's ingrained into everything, especially conspiracy theories. the conspiracy being referenced here is that jewish people are all secretly lizard people that control everything via "the new world order". this conspiracy is regularly repackaged to leave out the part explicitly calling the lizard people jews, turning it into a dogwhistle and a covert way to spread antisemitism via naïve messengers. enter frank iero, someone i genuinely believe to be one of these naïve messengers. i don't think frank iero hates jews. you don't have to hate jews to say or do something antisemitic, the same way you don't have to hate a member of a certain race to say something racist, lthe same way you don't have to hate gay people to say something homophobic. and when twitter piled onto this person and called him antisemitic without explaining why, he reacted the way any middle aged white man would and made an ass of himself. the initial "get out of here with that shit" response followed by the second response of "i love jewish people and lizards and i don't understand why you guys are being so mean to me 🖤🖤🖤" (paraphrased, obviously) put him on my shitlist. big time. let's talk about reverse radicalization.

reverse radicalization happens when a person is yelled at for something instead of being told what they did wrong and why it's wrong. when we get yelled at, we look, consciously or subconsciously, for anyone telling us we did nothing wrong. for example, if you say something antisemitic and everyone is yelling at you and you don't really get why? like you looked it up and oh that conspiracy exists but how does that pertain to what you said? and the only people not yelling at you and saying you're right are your newly acquired right wing fans, it creates an environment where a person who's not radical can become radicalized very fast. i don't know if this happened to frank iero or not, but the lack of any follow up response/formal aknowledgement makes me feel uneasy. i wouldn't feel so uneasy if non jewish fans had listened to jewish fans who told people that calling him a nazi wasn't a good idea and was going to have the opposite of the intended effect.

to sum everything up, ls dunes is on its death bed. this band was made in a lab over the pandemic to make appealing music, get mildly annoying, and then self implode. we are currently in the late mildly annoying early self imploding phase. they are a fascinating case study of what happens when you appeal to a certain audience so hard they cannibalize you like a praying mantis eats her mate. i think they are also a snapshot into the future of the bands that litter tiktok with videos like "if you like the front bottoms and car seat headrest, listen to our new album!" who are themselves doomed to self implode. i wish all of them the best, but i suggest they jump ship before it sinks.



the phenomenon of ls dunes should be studied and i mean this

[cocochannel00]

The Azoff Family: A Case Study on one of the Music Industry’s Most Connected Families

(ft. a breakdown of the Grammy voting process and problems)

This is very long so I will try and split it up into categories for everyone (sorry I got carried away- I spent like 2 hours writing this) but enjoy!

*Disclaimer: I want to preface while the majority of this is based in research, some parts may be speculation. I don’t know the family personally so I can’t tell you what goes on behind closed doors but I can tell you how parts of the entertainment/music industry work. I’ve had 5 internships in the industry (one in marketing at one of the big record labels) and the rest of my work is publicity (what I enjoy) and events and a former advisor used to run in the same circles as Irving Azoff (and he spilled some tea last year) I’m not out here to diminish the hard work of any artists or their teams, I’m simply here to showcase parts of the industry that aren’t always shown.*

Please also see: Story Time: How Fan Pages Directly Impact Columbia Records Decisions and Harry Styles Image

IRVING AZOFF: NEVER STOP THE GRIND

Let’s begin with the great business man himself Mr. Irving Azoff Irving Azoff is the literal posture child for connections and power in the music industry (he was also inducted into the 2020 rock and roll hall of fame class which is like a huge fucking deal for a manager to be inducted so you know he's the real deal)

In conclusion, I love Irving Azoff and his drive.

Irving Azoff: Early Years Run Down:

He came up middle class (dad was a pharmacist, mom a bookkeeper) in Danville, Illinois

He dropped out of college to run a small Midwestern concert-booking empire and managed local acts in the era

Opportunity came knocking and he got the chance to manage the Eagles and the rest is history

He's one of the best negotiators and has negotiated business on behalf of stars like Stevie Nicks, the Eagles, and Jimmy Buffet

Azoff has been an incredible manager and his drive to always advocate for his clients while basically not giving two sh*ts about what people think of him has gotten him the incredible reputation he has today.

All of Irving Azoff’s Major Job Positions:

Former President MCA (major label)

Former CEO of Ticketmaster and executive chairman of Live Nation Entertainment, the behemoth formed from Ticketmaster’s merger with Live Nation.

In 2013 he and Cablevision Systems Corp. CEO and New York Knicks owner James Dolan formed a partnership, Azoff MSG Entertainment (Currently still CEO)

----> Azoff also ran the Forum in Inglewood under Azoff MSG Entertainment after MSG purchased it in 2012 (it was sold in 2020 to the owner of the Clippers) — why do you think Harry played the forum for the Fine Line show? Azoff connection

Azoff MSG Entertainment encompasses all of the other companies including Full Stop Management, Global Music Rights (performance-rights org), and the Oak View Group (arena developing company)

He also is the co-founder and manager of the lobbying group Music Artists Coalition, a group that helps lobby for artists-rights issues such as royalty rates, copyright issue and healthcare insurance (see he's not all bad)

Essentially what I'm getting at is this man knows anybody who's anybody. He's the man you want on your team to help promote your music, plan your tour, and get you on that Grammy nom list.

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JEFFREY AZOFF: THE CHILD OF NEPOTISM

So for those of you that don't know, Jeffery Azoff is Harry's current manager and the son of Irving Azoff (the third of four kids). He's currently a partner at Full Stop Management, the company owned by Irving and the one artists such as Harry, Haim, the Eagles, Kings of Leon, and Meghan Trainer are signed to.

Jeffrey graduated from the University of Colorado's Leeds School of Business and started working fresh out of college at his father's old Management company (Frontline Management) working under Maroon 5's manager Jordan Feldstein (the only way you get that kind of internship/job as a 21 year old fresh out of college is if your family or family friends gives it to you). He worked here for 5 years.

Direct Quote from Irving Azoff to Jeffrey (really tells you a lot): "Listen carefully, because I’m going to say this one time. You have a phone and you have my last name. If you can’t figure it out, you’re not my son."

After working for his father, Jeffrey moved on to the talent agency CAA (Creative Artist Agency) where he worked for roughly 3 and half years before joining his dad in forming Full Stop Management in 2016.

While he was at CAA, Irving moved over clients like Christina Aguilera and the Eagles to the talent agency to help with tour booking instead of doing it internally through LiveNation (he was CEO).

Even though I'm sure Jeff has had to work somewhat hard to get to where he is (or at least to mess up his dad's work as he doesn't seem like the type to take laziness well), the door into the industry and every job was basically handed to him on a silver platter.

Not to mention if you watch episodes of keeping up with the  kardashians (like myself) you can actually see Jeff hanging out with kendall and the rest of the fam at their Palm Springs house (you know you're a nepotism kid if you have an in with the Kardashian crew). Invite me next time Jeffrey!!!

Think of the Azoff's as the mafia family of the music industry, you don't mess with the mafia

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THE GRAMMY AWARDS: STUDENT COUNCIL ELECTIONS ON STEROIDS

Ok so here's where we’re going to get into a bit more of the speculation/grey area. I don't need to tell you that award shows are corrupt (See the Golden Globes Emily in Paris scandal) and the Grammys are not an exception. Think of the Grammys as one big student council/government elections where despite the fact the teachers tell you six times to vote for the best candidate, you're still going to vote for your friends even if they aren't the best.

A simplified break-down of Grammy voting:

1) Recording Academy voting members (artists, producers, musicians- anyone involved first hand with the creation of music; All voting members must have been producers, performers or engineers on six or more tracks of a commercially released album (or 12 or more digital tracks) and record labels will submit nominations in various categories to the grammys (songs need to be released commercially between October 1 of the previous year and September 30th of this year). You can also become a voting member by either winning a grammy or being endorsed by a current voting member (hint hint)

2) Once received, the recording academy with have the academy of trustees and its reviewers organize them and approve any changes to the 30 categories/fields (aka they can add new categories or remove old ones; so no best ukulele album of the year -- this is where things get funky)

There's speculation that during this stage when these special groups of 8-10 people are organizing genres, there's an "unwritten rule" that you need to be careful what album you green light (especially for famous artists) if you don't want them to win) (Rob Kenner said this- he used to be on one of these committees). Famous people tend to get more votes from clueless or lay Academy members that don't know the specialized categories or don't care enough to listen to songs that aren't radio trending.

3) After the nominations occur, Voting members begin their first voting. Members can vote for the four general categories of record of the year, album of the year, song of the year and best new artist and a maximum of 15 categories, all within their areas of expertise. Now the interesting thing is that while these are the guidelines there is literally nothing stopping them from voting in whatever categories they want (i.g. a rapper voting in the opera category despite not listening to opera). Theses ballots are all tallied and the top 20 entries are determined in each category (funky moment #2)

In 12 of the 84 categories those top 20 go to the ballot and it's done; for the rest it’s not like that. 59 categories including the big four go to a "nomination review committees" (identities are protected so they can't get lobbied... sure) who take a look at the top 20 and narrow it down to 7 or 8. (these are the special committees the Weekend talked about when he was snubbed). They're supposed to choose the nominees "based solely on the artistic and technical merits of the eligible recordings" which lets be real if that was the case Watermelon Sugar (along with most of the others in the category) I don't think would have been nomimated as they are very generic pop (none of them are special... sorry to the WM lovers out there).

This committee is basically held to THE HONOR CODE SYSTEM... I mean tell me when the last time the honor code system worked in literally any scenario (literally wtf). Don't take my word for it though the former CEO of the Academy Deborah Dugan (a queen) filed a complaint against the Recording Academy basically claiming that the nomination review process was rigged (she was fired after 5 months on the job).

Quote from Deborah Dugan "Members of the board [of trustees] and the secret committees chose artists with whom they have personal or business relationships... It is not unusual for artists who have relationships with Board members and who ranked at the bottom of the initial 20-artist list to end up receiving nominations."

These review committees can also exploit there power by adding up to two nominees that don't appear on the top 20 list to the final voting ballot (except in the 4 big categories - which watermelon sugar that one wasn't nominated for)

They also have craft committees for like non performance stuff (like album notes, engineering and arranging) that don't even get voted on by the academy voting members

4) After all of that fucked up mess, the grammy's decided is ok, the ballots go back to the voting members for the final vote. Deloitte (an accounting firm) then counts all of them, seals them in envelopes, and delivers them to the Grammy award show.

** The Grammy's just announced this year they're removing the "secret committees" so let's see how things shift in the next couple of years**

So obviously I'm not saying this to discredit Harry's nomination or his win as Fine Line was in the US top 20 albums for the majority of 2020, however, we must acknowledge privilege. Harry has a big name to him and a huge following, and while all of that shouldn't be taken into account, it does. He also has the Azoffs, a very well connected family with friends in lots of places that would be able to put in a good word here and there to get support behind Harry. Harry won best pop solo performance for Watermelon Sugar in a category with Doja Cat, Justin Bieber, Billie Eilish, Taylor Swift, and Dua Lipa. Look at the names there, the songs (ya'll can try and remember them cause I'm too lazy to write it out) and tell me that those top names with all of the music produced didn't get there through some connections.

Do with all this information what you will and if you are interested in learning more about the entertainment industry on your own Endeavor (owners of WME, a big talent agency like CAA) is hosting a free online program called the Excellence Program to help guide the future generation of industry executives. The program is a-synchronous and starts on July 12th. Highly recommend giving it a go if you're interested!!!

Alright ya'll that's it. Feel free to message me with your thoughts!

Extra Sources if you'd like to read:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/pkdndn/how-grammys-voting-actually-works-and-where-the-alleged-corruption-lies

https://www.grammy.com/grammys/awards/voting-process

https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/music/story/2020-11-05/irving-azoff-eagles-manager

https://celebrityaccess.com/caarchive/jeffrey-azoff-exits-caa-to-launch-new-management-company/

https://www.rollingstone.com/pro/features/grammy-awards-secret-committees-945532/

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/grammy-awards-eliminate-secret-committees-voting-changes-1163887/

[knives-out20]

The Impact Of The Intergalactic - David Bowie Opinion Essay - by Beck S.

This is an essay I wrote about the span of David Bowie's career. I wrote it for a summer school course I took last year (August 2021) for a course called History of Rock & Roll.

My teacher gave nice feedback after he marked it, talking about how it was an "Excellent paper. It charts Bowie's progress throughout his career well, and includes significant detail. I could really feel the passion you have about him throughout. In fact, there is *too much* detail! The paper was supposed to be 3 pages max, double-spaced. Still, this is a good problem to have; better too much than too little."

So...enjoy!!

From his early works like Hunky Dory, to Black Tie White Noise in the 1990’s and stretching over to Blackstar as his final album, David Bowie has rarely had a bad album or song- in my opinion. His career has had ups and downs, his musical creations ranging in the way he would pitch his voice and what instruments he would use, the people he would produce with, and the wild things he would say. Charting David Bowie’s development over time is in fact an interesting journey.

Early on in his dreamy career, Bowie would have done nearly anything- or in fact, anyone- to grow in the music world. Hopping from band to band (like The Velvet Underground), producer to producer, doing whatever he could do to get ‘in’ in the industry. His early albums weren’t taken very highly in their times- especially with the ‘man-dress’ he wore on the British release of his The Man Who Sold The World album. Although, this dress was only the start of the androgynous appearance he would soon be known for, over the course of his 5-decade-spanning career.

The 1970’s were strange, to say the least. He married Angela Bowie at the start of the decade, then welcomed their son Duncan Zowie Haywood Jones a year later. Bowie went on to be hopped up on cocaine. David donned the look of one of his famous personas, The Thin White Duke. The same persona with slicked-back ginger hair, a white button-up under a black waistcoat and paired with black dress pants. The same Duke who called Adolf Hitler one of the first ‘rock stars’ and gave off a lot of faschist energy. He said many statements he’d later apologize for and grow as a better man from, which is good- it’s better than standing by then, or even backing himself up and supporting them. David Bowie called that period the darkest days of his life, and blamed the crazy statements on his horrid addiction and deteriorating mental state. The late 1970’s were more favorable, seeing as it gave the world what was dubbed the Berlin Trilogy alongside Brian Eno and David’s personal friend, Iggy Pop. Made up of three of his albums: Low and Heroes (both in 1977) and Lodger (1978). He moved from Los Angeles to Switzerland, then to Berlin as a further decision to escape his addiction (the reason he moved away from LA in the first place). It was in Berlin, of course, where he wrote his famous song Heroes, about two lovers, one from East Berlin and one from West.

Speaking of Berlin, David Bowie performed near the west of the Berlin Wall in 1987; he played so loud that crowds gathered on the east to listen. At this time, Bowie had no idea he would be the beginning of the city’s soon-coming unifying. After his death in 2016, the German government thanked him for bringing the wall down and unifying a divided Germany.

Music isn’t all he is known for, though it is a majority. He also starred in movies from time to time. Being the titular man in The Man Who Fell To Earth in 1976, Jareth the moody goblin king in Jim Henson’s 1986 Labyrinth film (what is most likely his most famous role), Monte the barman in the 1991 movie The Linguini Incident, cameoing as himself in Zoolander (2001), Nikola Tesla in the 2006 movie The Prestige, and even Lord Royal Highness in Spongebob Squarepants’ Atlantis Squarepantis in 2007, among a few others. David Bowie dabbled in the art of acting, and was not that bad at it. He was good enough to gain a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, too. Sometimes it bends my mind that my first introduction to my all-time favourite musician was in a Spongebob Squarepants movie, back before I knew who he was, but David Bowie was never one to shy away from foreshadowing. At least one song from many of his albums would hint at the direction he’d go in for his next release. For example, his track Queen Bitch on Hunky Dory foreshadowed his soon-coming Ziggy Stardust. And the Diamond Dogs track 1984 actually hinted at the Philadelphian soul of Young Americans, which is a more famous song of his, which he went on to perform on The Cher Show with its host.

The 1990’s were certainly an experimental time for David Bowie. But to my knowledge, I think the 1990’s was a time for everyone. He married supermodel Iman some days after performing at the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert, and released the album I named earlier, Black Tie White Noise. It is known to have had a prominent use of electronic instruments, as was his other 1990’s album, Earthling. The early 1990’s greeted David’s first real band since the Spiders From Mars, dubbed Tin Machine. They recorded three guitar-driven albums which received mixed reviews from the masses, but Bowie looks back at this period- as do I- with a certain fondness; “a glorious disaster” he called it, when talking to journalist Mick Brown. Tin Machine is a period I don’t listen to often, compared to his solo stuff, but I don’t press the skip button when it comes on.

Alas, the starman’s career drew to a close as the 2000s rolled in. David Bowie greeted the 2000’s with the birth of his and Iman’s daughter, the beautiful Alexandria Zahra Jones. After suffering a- strange, as it were- heart attack symptoms mid-song during a concert in 2004, he took a hiatus from his career. I say strange because given what I know, he was trying his best to stay healthy at the time. According to my special Rolling Stone edition magazine about David Bowie (released at the start of this year), he was on tour and performing in a really hot arena. But Bowie was sober, and had quit smoking. He was taking medication to lower his cholesterol, and worked out with a trainer. Bowie looked great, and yet he felt a pain in his shoulder and chest, along with a shortness for breath. A bodyguard rushed onstage to usher Bowie off of it, cutting the concert short. He only performed live once or twice after that point, but was set on never going live ever again. And he kept his word on that, unfortunately but also fortunately. Unfortunately, because David Bowie live would have been quite the experience- I wouldn’t know, personally. But fortunately, because I do not believe anyone needs a repeat of the 2004 Reality scare.

I am actually not too fond of speaking of his final years. Nobody really likes to speak of the last years of their idols’ life before their death, so it’s no surprise. Blackstar was David Bowie’s 25th and final album, recorded entirely in secret in New York alongside his long-time producer, Tony Visconti. The album's central theme lyrically is mortality, and seeing as Bowie was undergoing chemotherapy for his cancer at the time, I see it as his way of coping with his incoming death. His producer Tony Visconti called him a ‘canny bastard’, when he realized Bowie was essentially writing a farewell album. Every song on the album is what is considered a swan song, a swan song in question being a phrase for a final gesture of some sort before retirement or death. In this case, death. Over the course of recording the album, David Bowie’s chemotherapy had actually been working and he had an eerie optimism while recording. But by the time they shot the two music videos Blackstar and Lazarus, where he showed off the definite passage of time and cruelty of chemotherapy through sparse and gray hair with sagging skin, he knew his condition was terminal and that this would be a battle he would lose. Blackstar wasn’t the first album to have been made by a musician succumbing to a fatal illness, but in my opinion it is in fact the most beautiful. It’s jazzy, and elegant, showing how at peace he had become with dying.

Blackstar the album was released on January 8th, 2016. Also known as David Bowie’s 69th birthday. Two days later, David Bowie died at his Lafayette Street home on January 10th after living with liver cancer for up to 18 months. Beforehand, he had let it be known he did not want a funeral nor a burial, but rather that his body be cremated and the ashes to be scattered in Bali by his loved ones. His wish was received, and planet Earth was very much bluer and quieter without his colour and wonderful noise.

As I said earlier on, David Bowie’s career came with ups and downs. His mysteriously close relationship with Mick Jagger, his cross with famous underage groupie Lori Maddox, the births of his two talented children, his faschist bender in the 70’s, and final bang of Blackstar in his final year on earth. Through the highs and lows, his career and his music meant a lot to the quote-unquote misfits and freaks of the world, myself included. David Bowie turned and faced the strange, shouted “you’re not alone!” To those who felt the loneliest, he surely spent his career helping those who needed to be themselves, feel more freer and braver in doing so, no matter what they may be when they are themselves. He never went boring, he never went stale, he sang what he wanted and dressed how he pleased, and kept to his word on how much more to life there is when you’re just that; yourself. A year after David Bowie’s untimely passing, his son Duncan Jones accepted an award for British album of the year that was won by Blackstar at the 37th annual Brit Awards. When he accepted it, he made a speech about his father that I will leave here, and never forget. Seeing as it perfectly encapsulates David Bowie’ legacy, and the true meaning of his extraordinary career.

“I lost my dad last year, but I also became a dad. And, uhm, I was spending a lot of time- after getting over the shock- of trying to work out what would I want my son to know about his granddad? And I think it would be the same thing that most of my dad's fans have taken over the last 50 years. That he’s always been there supporting people who think they’re a little bit weird or a little bit strange, a little bit different, and he’s always been there for them. So...this award is for all the kooks, and all the people who make the kooks. Thanks, Brits, and thanks to his fans.” - Duncan Z. H. Jones (February 22 2017, at The O2 Arena in London.)

[ladyonfire28]

My French music Masterpost

So since half of the population is in quarantine right now I thought I could make a list of some french/ french speaking artists and songs that I listen to and that you could also discover since we all have time to kill. 

Obviously I cannot put every single artist and song I  know and listen to so it’ll be a bit of mix of my favorite albums/ artists of the past few years but also what i’m listening at the moment ! 

Pop/ R&B

Angèle 

She’s a 23 year old Belgian singer. Her first album was a HUGE hit last year and she got 5 news songs out in November too. She’s also been dating a woman for a few months.

I would recommend to listen to her whole album Brol , it’s quite a bop. Also there are two songs about wlw relationship called « Ta Reine » and « Tu me regardes ». That last song was a kind of coming out song btw, we were all freaking out when we listened to it the first time lmao.

Favorite songs: Les matins, Flemme, Flou, Nombreux, Ta reine, Tu me regardes, J’entends

Clara Luciani

She’s a 27 year old French artist. 2019 was truly her year. She’s has an incredible voice and I just love her energy. She’s an amazing songwriter too. Her first album is called Sainte Victoire.

Favorite songs: La grenade, Les fleurs, On ne meurt pas d’amour, Drôle d’époque, Nue, Dors, Ma Soeur, Bovary.

Christine and the Queens

I think a lot of you know her already. She’s also a queer and pansexual artist. I have to say I really LOVED her first album Chaleur Humaine, one of the best albums of the past decade, but I didn’t love as much her second album (Chris) or her new EP (La vita nuova). I mean they’re good, but her first album was really something else. And it’s also just my opinion !

Favorite songs : iT (it’s in English though), Saint Claude, Science Fiction, Half Ladies, Paradis Perdus, Chaleur Humaine, Nuit 17 à 52, Intranquilité, Amazoniaque, Jonathan, La marcheuse, L’étranger

Therapie TAXI

This is a pretty fun band, their first album has been quite popular. They’re pretty unique and sometimes their songs and lyrics are let’s say... bold lmao. I haven’t listen to all their songs though, there’s like 25 songs in their first album and 15 in their second aha. But they also have so many bops. 

Favorite songs: Hit Sale, J’en ai marre, Salop(e), Avec ta zouz

Aya Nakamura

Aya is now a r&b/pop superstar here in France and even in other countries in Europe. She’s 25 and you can hear her songs in every night club and party here. Can’t say her lyrics are very elaborated but her songs are real bops and the best to dance to in your room lmao

Favorite songs: Djadja, La dot, Pompom, Copines, Pookie, Sucette, 40%, Comportement

Lous and the Yakuza

She’s a 23 year old belgian artist. She only has 3 songs out for now, but i’ve been pretty obsessed with them. Her lyrics are pretty great too (and she’s SO beautiful omg). 

Favorite songs : Dilemme, Tout est gore, Solo

Yseult

Yseult is a 24 year old french singer/songwriter. She’s has a beautiful voice and the beats are also great. I haven’t listened to all her songs though, I only heard her new EP Noir which is great.

Favorite songs: Corps, Nos souvenirs, Noir, 5H

Indie/electro rock/folk :

Pomme

Pomme is very famous in the LGBTQ community in France, but i haven’t listened much to her songs (yet). She’s a 24 year old french and lesbian singer songwriter. Her songs talk about love, anxiety, and even death. She has a such beautiful voice too.

Favorite songs: On brûlera, A peu près, Anxiété, Je sais pas danser

The Dø

The Dø are a finnish/french duo and also one of my favorite band (they sing in english though). They made of of my favorite albums of the last decade, Shake Shook Shaken, which came out in 2014. Their first albums sounded more folk/indie rock, but their third album is much more electro. And the album is about the break up of the lead singer, Olivia Merilahti, and the musician, Dan Levy. One of my favorite song of all time is in their second album Both Ways Open Jaws and is called Too Insistent.

Favorite songs: On my shoulders, Too Insistent, Sparks, Despair Hangover & Ecstasy, Opposite Ways, Anita No!, Nature Will Remain.

Izia

Izia is a singer but also an actress, you may know her from La Belle Saison, Samba, or Un peuple et son roi. I listened a lot to her third album La vague, that was released in 2015. it’s much more electro that what she used to do before. Her two first albums were much more rock albums. She’s got a new album out but i haven’t listen to it yet.

Favorite songs: Hey, La vague, You, Les ennuis, Bridges, Tomber

Mansfield.YTA

The band is composed of 2 women, Julia Lanoë et Carla Pallone. Julia is in other bands/ projects such as Sexy Sushi and Kompromat. Unlike those two last bands that are very electro, Mansfield is something more nuanced. It sounds more like indie folk and mixes different style. You can hear electric instruments but also violin, harmonium, piano etc. And it’s pretty melodramatic.  They sing in french and english.

Favorite songs: Et demain déja, Pour oublier je dors, Mon amoureuse, Gilbert De Clerc

Electro :

Stromae

You might have heard of that Belgian guy. His album Racine Carré (released in 2013) is too me the best of the decade and his song “Papaoutai” was a huge hit in Europe. He’s a pure genius. His lyrics are super deep and usually quite dark but he makes incredible beats that are very electro. If his second album is definitely his most popular album, his first one Cheese, was also so so great and his first single “Alors on Danse” was a huge hit (Kanye West did a remix of it). He also directed Billie Eilish’s “Hostage” music video. That dude is just incredible. But after his huge success his did a burn out and his mental health got very bad. He stopped making music since then. 

Favorite songs: Peace or Violence, Alors on danse, Dodo, Je Cours, House’llelujah, papaoutai, bâtard, ave cesaria, tous les mêmes, formidable humain à l’eau, sommeil

Rap :

I have to say i’ve been listening to a lot of french rap this past couple of years so i won’t list all the rappers i listen to, especially since i’m pretty sure most of you aren’t interested in rap. But I still have to list some of them that have been very popular recently. France has a huge and very diverse rap culture.

Fauve

Actually that collective is actually not a rap band at all. They do more like spoken word songs but didn’t where also to put them lol. The band broke up 5 years but I still listen to them a lot today. It’s one of my fav band too. Their lyrics are really well written and beautiful. It usually talks about the “youth malaise” and their frustrations, heartbreaks and anger etc. They made 1 EP et 2 LP. 

Favorite songs: Blizzard, Cock Music Smart Music, Nuits Fauves, Haut les Coeurs, Rub a Dub, Voyous, Infirmière, Vieux frères, Lettre à Zoé, Paraffine, Tallulah, T.R.W, Les Hautes Lumières 

Meryl

Meryl is a 24 year old french martinican rapper. Before making her own music she used to write and compose melodies for other famous french rappers. She’s very influenced by her roots and and she also sings some of her songs in creole. I love how different and diverse her music is. 

Favorite songs: Coucou, AH LALA, Béni, Désolé, La brume

Aloïse Sauvage 

Aloïse is a multi talented french singer/ actress/ dancer. She released her first EP in 2019 called Jimy and her very first album Dévorantes was released in February 2020. She’s definitely a queer artist (99% sure she’s lesbian but she’s never confirmed it so anyway + her little sister is 100% a lesbian aha) and she talks about lgbtq issues in some of her songs, but also about her own issues and all. Her lyrics are beautifully written. And she’s also a ray of sunshine so there’s nothing to dislike about her haha. 

Favorite songs: Dévorantes, Si on s’aime, A l’horizontale, Et cette tristesse, Jimy, Présentement, L’orage

Roméo Elvis

Roméo isn’t french but belgian. He’s the big brother of Angèle. I actually knew about her because of him. He’s less known than her now obviously but he’s still quite popular. His rap is pretty soft and chill. I preferred his collaborations with Le Motel (who was his producer) more than his “solo” album but he still got some good songs on his last album.

Favorite songs: Morale, Nappeux, Drôle de question, Bébé aime la drogue, J’ai vu (feat. Angèle), Lenita, Chocolat, Normal, Dis-moi 

Lomepal

Lomepal is a french rapper. He’s known for writing songs that are pretty elaborated with chill and melodic beats. I also call is rap “soft”. He usually talks about his loneliness and insecurities

Favorite songs: 70, Yeux disent, Club, Trop beaux, 1000°C, X-Men, Plus de larmes

PNL

PNL is the most popular cloud rap band of the past few of years. They’re two brothers NOS and Ademo and they’re famous for using vocoder when they rap. Like a lot of vocoder lol. But they’re also very known for working with some of the best beat makers in the industry. If the way they rap is sometimes pretty hard, their beats are very chill and cool. In their songs they talk a lot of their life as dealers in the french banlieue, their struggles, how tough their lives were but also how their lives today isn’t set and how they’re not necessarily happier today. Their third album “Dans la légende” was a huuuuge hit in France, and their latest album “Deux frères” just as much if not more. 

Favorite songs: Recherche du bonheur, DA, Dans la légende, Luz de Luna, Humain, Bené, Jusqu’au dernier gramme, Blanka, A l’ammoniaque, Shenmue, Menace, Déconnecté, La misère est si belle

Other songs that I listen to at the moment : 

“Le temps est bon” - Bon Entendeur (electro)

“De mon âme à ton âme” - Kompromat (electro)

“Reste” - Maitre Gims feat Sting (pop)

“Les méchants” - Heuss l’enfoiré (rap)

“C’est plus l’heure” - Franglish feat Dadju, Vegeta (r&b)

“De l’autre côté”-  Ninho feat Nekfeu (rap)

“Blanche” - Maes (rap)

“La complainte du soleil” - Laura Cahen (from I Lost My Body OST)

Some french speaking “classic” songs that  I listen to and that you probably don’t know (from the 50′s to 00′s) :

“Une valse à mille temps” - Jacques Brel

“La foule” - Edith Piaf 

“Chanson pour l’auvergnat” - Georges Brassens 

“Je t’aimais, je t’aime et je t’aimerai” - Francis Cabrel 

“Ma préférence” - Julien Clerc

“La nuit je mens” - Alain Bashung 

“Foule sentimentale” - Alain Souchon

“Mistral gagnant” - Renaud 

“Sensualité” - Axelle Red

“Manhattan Kaboul” - Renaud feat. Axelle Red

“Onde sensuelle” - M 

“Et dans 150 ans” - Raphaël 

“A la faveur de l’automne” - Tété

“L’aventurier” - Indochine 

French LGBTQ+ artists 

This past few years a few lgbtq artists have blown up here and like 4 lesbian artists have been nominated for best new artist this year at the french grammy award called Victoire de la musique (and one of them one the award, Pomme). Unfortunately i’m not very good at discovering new artists so i’m quite late and i haven’t been able to listen to a lot of them. But if you want to discover them yourself here are few lgbtq artists: 

Already mentioned: Angèle, Pomme, Julia Lanoë/ Rebekka Warrior (Sexy Sushi, Kompromat, Mansfield.YTA), Christine and the Queens, Aloïse Sauvage

More : Hoshi,  Suzane, Eddy de Pretto, Safia Nolin (she’s from Quebec)

[highlifesupernova]

Kanye West is My Problematic Fave

Can we separate our favorite works of art from the artists who created them?

I'll admit at the outset of this piece that I don't know the answer to this question. Over the last three years, one of my favorite musicians has put on that red hat, released a terrible record about a misogynistic religion, and stood between an unrepentant homophobe and accused domestic abuser on the porch of a replica of his mother's home at a third listening party for an album that seemed like it would never be released. What does that mean for our relationship with his work?

The common thread among my favorite musicians is theatrics - I love nothing more than discovering a universe of sound, concept, and drama in a piece of music. I loved the idea that Sufjan Stevens would release fifty state albums. One of my favorite records of all time is a concept album about the American civil war by Titus Andronicus. Lady Gaga won my heart when she bled out on stage at the 2009 VMAs as commentary on paparazzi culture. I've been a fan of Kanye West (which sometimes feels more like being a Kanye West apologist) since he turned near-universal vilification after interrupting Taylor Swift's award acceptance speech on that same night into one of the most artistically complete albums I know - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

Although its artist remained polarizing, MBDTF achieved triumphant consensus among the public and critics alike. It topped best-of lists, produced the immortal singles "POWER" and "All Of the Lights", and earned a perfect 10 from the era's authority on "cool" music, Pitchfork (it also arguably set Pitchfork on the path to its fall from grace, but that's a whole other essay). The record is funny, sad, relatable, introspective, maximalist, and heavy on pop appeal. The Kanye West of MBDTF was disarmingly self aware. In lieu of apologetics, West invited us to experience his hedonistic, lush creative mind for an hour and eight minutes. He was unrepentantly an asshole, and reminded us that we all kind of were, too. He sold us darkness as an indulgence.

In addition to, or perhaps as a result of, being an incredible musical achievement, MBDTF gave West control over his public narrative. He'd been a talented, erratic figure in pop music for years, but with this crowning achievement he became the center of pop culture. He was no longer the egoistical Chicago producer with the backpack - he was the unconventional genius who had made one of the greatest hip hop records of all time. He moved into high art spaces, becoming a figure at fashion week, and ascended to the highest highs of celebrity, marrying one of the most famous women in the world. The public gave West a pass for his behavior because it seemed accessory to his brilliance.

The incident with Swift eventually began to take a backseat to West's music. In the years following the release of MBDTF, including the album cycle for Yeezus, his public persona was brash but ultimately benign. He declared himself a god, had some more close calls at awards shows, and liked some of the Gaga songs. He seemed to maintain control of his image, and his fans, including me, got used to defending him for his art.

Over time, possibly as West's mental health deteriorated, this showboating personality became an erratic one. He went through a MAGA phase, a cowboy phase, and ultimately a Jesus phase, each time expressing opinions that were difficult to rationalize with his prior moral alignment and unpopular among the young hip hop fans who hold him in high regard. It has gotten harder to be a fan. In an era where we've called into question whether a bad action can discredit someone's work, and sometimes find that to be justified, enjoying West's music makes me feel like I need to be ready to defend him as a person. I don't think I can in good faith. It's also hard to hang up my nostalgia for West's earlier work and my abiding adoration of his albums from the early 2010s.

The difficult thing about the case of Kanye West is that he has yet to cause material harm. He has come out with radioactively bad takes ("slavery was a choice"), aired his wife's dirty laundry in public, and associated with some of his more concretely morally delinquent peers. He hasn't, to the public's knowledge, hurt anyone. Engaging with West's work post-born-again-Christianity era might feel strange, but it isn't repugnant in the way that celebrating R. Kelly or Chris Brown is. Giving attention and accolades to someone with shitty opinions versus someone who has used their wealth and status to actively cause harm doesn't feel quite the same, and I don't think it should. Fans cling to this as evidence that we can separate West from his art, or perhaps that we don't need to. I have personally rationalized my support for West in this way.

I started this post intending to come to a different conclusion than the one I've come to since the release of Donda. I was going to talk about how our reactions to art aren't logical or rational, and how I think it's human nature to struggle with denying ourselves the things we love. Admittedly, I was writing this to defend my continued consumption of West's work to myself on the eve of the new record's release. I still think that reasoning holds, but I also think it applies to feeling betrayed by an artist and finding one's opinion of their art tainted as a result.

The Independent gave Donda a zero-star rating, citing accused intimate partner abuser Marilyn Manson and noted homophobe DaBaby's involvement with the record as an inexcusable flaw. This review has been derided to hell by the wider internet, and I don't disagree that perhaps it'd have been more professional to publish a refusal to review the album, but I also can't argue strongly in West's favor here. Even if his apparent statement of solidarity with Manson and DaBaby was an attempt at a demonstration of Christian forgiveness, it is a bad look for West to deliver that absolution without comment in a public platform. I was raised Catholic, and having to sit in that weird little confessional booth really drove home that Christian God expects repentance before he's granting anyone forgiveness. Forgiveness can be earned -- and there are many times when the public could stand to be a bit more merciful -- but it is certainly not given for free. Nobody is obligated to forgive Marilyn Manson, DaBaby, or Kanye West. If the album is unlistenable to someone in the context of their actions, that is a fair reaction.

For the record, I actually quite like Donda. I think it's a fine album and the rollout was entertaining. I also know its release was engineered for maximum shock value, and I don't like that Manson's alleged victims were collateral damage.

There's a shade of grey here that I think is often passed over when we talk about separating art and artists, a shade I think West actually leaned into perfectly in the lead up to MBDTF; the art we like can be taken in context of the things we don't like about it. Kanye West makes incredibly innovative music, and is also very difficult to defend as a public figure in good faith. Those two things have never been mutually exclusive, and synergism of the two is what has made West the cultural icon he is. We don't have to talk ourselves into things being unproblematic in order to like them, and it's okay to sit with unresolved discomfort about art.

[rocknrollarticles]

The Artwoods Story

The Artwoods’ 100 Oxford Street is a UK compilation album released in 1983 that features a four-page booklet (pictured above) that tells the band’s story, written by guitarist Derek Griffiths.

Since there's a limit on the number of photos that can be added to one post, I'll be reblogging this a couple times until I have all the info up. To see this post with all the info added in reblogs, click here.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy Derek’s words as much as I do!

Transcript under the cut (main text + Record Mirror article from page three's rightmost side)

“  It's difficult to pinpoint exactly when the Artwoods came into being because everything just seemed to evolve naturally. The one date however that does stick in my mind is the 1st October 1964 which is the date I turned professional, thus depriving the accountancy profession of a valuable addition to its ranks! But seriously, one must go back to previous events in order to trace the history of the group.

I first met Jon Lord at a party in West Hampstead when he was a drama student at The Central School of Speech & Drama. He was introduced to me by Don Wilson whose claim to fame was his membership of the famous skiffle group Dickie Bishop & His Sidekicks. They had had a hit years previously with "No Other Baby But You", and Don now ran a band on a semi-pro basis called Red Bludd's Bluesicians in which I played guitar. Well, I say we were called this, but only when we were fortunate enough to cop an R&B gig. We used to play The Flamingo Allnighter and lots of U.S. air bases. The rest of the time we played weddings and tennis club dances as The Don Wilson Quartet! Jon Lord was brought in on piano and was a very valuable addition especially as he could get his hands around a little jazz and all the old standards. Jon used to ring me at work and interrupt my vouching of sales ledger invoices in order to discuss the coming weekends gigs. We would bubble with excitement at the approach of an R&B gig as we really hated all the weddings and barmitzvahs.

Around this time Don made a very important policy decision and we suddenly became the proud owners of a Lowrey Holiday organ for Jon to play. Shortly after this Don contrived to drive the band-wagon into the back of a lorry on the North Circular, doing himself considerable mischief in the process. This brought about the unfortunate end of Don's career with us, but not before he had masterminded an important merger of two local bands.

For some time we had been aware, and not a little envious, of The Art Wood Combo led by none other than Art Wood himself. His band underwent a split at that time and Red Bludd's Bluesicians, alias The Don Wilson Quartet, were neatly grafted on. We really felt we were moving into the big league by doing this as Art not only had more work than us but, wait for it, used to sing with Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated with Charlie Watts on drums and Cyril Davies on harmonica! The next problem was a replacement for Don, and this was solved by stealing the bass player from another local group The Roadrunners, a good looking cove who went by the name of Malcolm Pool. The offer and acceptance of the gig were transacted in a pub car park somewhere in West Drayton staring into the murky waters of the Grand Union Canal clutching pints of local bitter (Fullers?). (Authors note: drugs had not been invented at this stage, as far as most groups were concerned, apart from the odd pill to keep one awake on an all nighter!)

~

The next personnel change took place some time in 1964 and this involved the retirement of drummer Reg Dunnage, who did not want to turn pro. Auditions were held in London and lots of drummers attended. However it was more or less a foregone conclusion that Keef Hartley would get the job. You see we'd already decided that what The Artwoods needed above all else was a Liverpool drummer! Unfortunately none came to the audition, but Keef hailed from Preston which was near enough for us. Keef had previously played with Rory Storm & The Hurricanes, replacing Ringo Starr in the process (heady stuff this), and Freddy Starr & The Midnighters. Both were such influential bands of their time that these credentials combined with Keef's quasi Liverpool accent (at least to our ears) provided him with a faultless pedigree.

~

So that was it, the line-up that would take us through to 1967 when Colin Martin eventually replaced Keef Hartley on drums.

For a while we worked as The Art Wood Combo but then decided it was hipper to drop the Combo and become The Artwoods.

The period when The Artwoods were operating was one of musical change when groups went from recording and performing other writers' material to writing their own. In fact the last year of the group's existence was 1967 which heralded the arrival of "Hendrix", "Flower-Power". "Festivals" and experimental use of mind expanding drugs! 1966/67 were particularly exciting years to be based in London and every night would be spent in one of the many clubs which had recently sprung up. The Ad Lib, The Scotch of St. James, The Cromwellian, Blaises and of course The Speakeasy to mention a few. Many of these we played in and the trick was to be well known enough not to have to pay the entrance fee on nights off. Any night you could be sure to meet your mates "down The Speak" and it became the unofficial market place for rock musicians.

It was also the days before huge amounts of equipment took over. Equipment meant road-crew and trucks and in turn financial hardship. This simple equation has been the downfall of many bands over the years. We used to travel in a 15 cwt van together with all the gear-no roadies, just us. It's amusing to recall but after recording the TV show "Ready, Steady, Go" (in Kingsway in those days?) one would be besieged by autograph hunters on the way to the van with the gear. Even really 'big groups of the day like The Zombies would hump their own equipment and apologetically place an amp on the ground in order to sign an autograph! Because it was financially viable to travel to small clubs in this way, we would often average 6 or 7 nights a week, every week, on the road. A bad month would probably mean less than twenty gigs. This meant we were living, sleeping and eating in close, and I mean close, proximity. You really found out who your friends were.

The subject of equipment is an interesting one as it really distinguishes the bands then from those of today. The average pub band of today would carry more equipment than we did. As I've already mentioned we were quick to realise that we could elevate ourselves musically by investing in a proper electric organ as opposed to a Vox Continental or Farfisa that many groups used. Consequently the group purchased a Lowrey Holiday and we thought this alone would provide us with the Booker T and Jimmy Smith sound.

What we failed to realize was that we also needed a Leslie cabinet with a special built-in rotor to get that "wobbly" sound. Our friend and mentor Graham Bond, the legendary organist/saxophonist, was quick to point out the error of our ways one night when we were gigging at Klooks Kleek in West Hampstead. We groaned inwardly when we discovered the extra cost and humping involved, but it had to be bought. We were fortunate very early on to score a deal with Selmers, who provided us with free amps and P.A., but we had to make the trek to Theobalds Road once a week to get it all serviced as they were not as reliable in those days. I used a Selmer Zodiac 50 watt amp and Malcolm had Goliath bass cabinets with a stereo amp.

The P.A. comprised two 4 x 12 cabinets and a 100 watt amp! When we toured Poland we played in vast auditoria and linked our system with the Vox system being used on tour by Billy J Kramer & The Dakotas. This meant we were pumping out no more than 300 watts which is laughable by today's standards. Although it would never have compared in quality, I can remember standing at the back of extremely large halls and being able to hear clearly all the words Billy J sang. One day in 1963 Alexis Korner sent me off foraging in and around Charing Cross Road for a new guitar, with instructions to mention his name whereupon I would receive a discount of 10%. Previously I played a Burns Trisonic (collectors will appreciate this model did not have "Wild Dog" treble) but fancied owning a Gibson ES335 as favoured by many blues players. Sure enough one was hanging invitingly in the window of Lew Davis's shop.

I ended up paying £135 and still use it regularly today although its value has multiplied five fold. Malcolm came with me that day and bought an Epiphone bass, the same colour and shape as my guitar. For years we looked like matching book-ends on either end of the group! Keef started off using a Rodgers drum kit, but somewhere along the line changed to, I think, Ludwig. There was no out-front mixing as is common today, just the P.A. amp on stage with the vocalist. Primitive I know, but everything revolved around bands being able to travel economically with their gear and perform at small clubs anywhere in Britain. The college circuit was much sought after and provided the icing on the cake while package tours were not necessarily well paid. We did our first with P. J. Proby and got £25 per night (for the lot of us) and we had to pay for our own accommodation!

~

I have already mentioned "Ready, Steady, Go" a show on which we appeared on more than one occasion. The original format called for groups to mime to their records but after a time it was decided that it would become "live" and that the show would be re-titled "Ready Steady Goes Live". We were proud to be picked for the first "live" show and learnt the news via a telephone call to our agent in London from a phone box high in the Pennines. We managed a drunken war-dance of celebration round the phone box believing that this meant we'd really cracked it. As I remember the first show we did featured Tom Jones (complete with lucky rabbits foot) miming to "It's Not Unusual", The Kinks, Donovan and Adam Faith's Roulettes playing live (without Adam). We were promoting our first single "Sweet Mary" and I would put the date at around late 1964.

~

Our first recording deal was with a subsidiary of Southern Music Publishing called Iver Productions and I reckon that would have been mid 1964. Southern had a four track studio in the basement of their offices in Denmark Street ("The Street") and getting the gear downstairs, especially the organ, was "murder". Our first producer was Terry Kennedy and we recorded several tracks with him. Without going too deeply into all the details of recording techniques of the period, one tended to compensate for the lack of tracking facilities available, by attempting to duplicate the live excitement. In many ways it was a frustrating experience particularly for ambitious guitar-players. I was a Steve Cropper freak and I knew as a musician that a lot of his sound on record resulted from him working his amplifier hard in the studio— thus the speaker would emit the sound he was used to on stage. In Britain however, engineers would say "You don't need to play loud man, we can turn you up on the desk". The result was a weedy, thin guitar sound. From way back I'd been experimenting with "feed back" on stage and I really had to dig my heels in about the guitar sound in the studio. Once when I turned my amp up to give it a bit of "wellie" on a solo the engineer bounded out of the control room screaming that the level would bust his microphones!

~

Sometime during the career of The Artwoods it was decided that we should graduate to a better studio. This was arranged by Mike Vernon who also became our producer. Our records had all been released through the Decca Record Co. and Mike was a staff producer with them. Mike w also an authority on "The Blues" and the relationship led to our only single chart record "I Take What I Want" a cover of a Sam & Dave U.S. R&B hit. Mike was also producing John Mayall at the time and it seemed only natural that Mike and The Artwoods should team up. From this point on we recorded at the Decca studio in Broadhurst Gardens, West Hampstead, but I can't honestly say it did any more for us than our previous efforts in the Southern Music basement, although we could now indulge ourselves in the comparative luxury of the eight track studio. Later on, towards the end of the groups life we were signed by Jack Baverstock at Philips Records who was looking for a group to cash in on the thirties-style gangster craze which had been triggered off by the film "Bonnie & Clyde". As a result we changed our name to "St. Valentines Day Massacre" and released a single of the old Bing Crosby hit "Brother Can You Spare A Dime?" It was an ill- fated venture, which I would prefer not to dwell on, virtually signalling the end of the band apart from a few heavy-hearted gigs with a changed line-up.

~

Before that though, there were many great times to remember, and a fair number of gigs that were memorable in one way or another.

One of our favourite gigs was Eel Pie Island which we regularly played once a month; in fact we held the attendance record there for a while until the ageing blues artist Jesse Fuller took it from us. Eel Pie Island is literally an island in the middle of the River Thames at Twickenham and there's never been a gig like it since. It was an Edwardian ballroom originally I believe, that achieved notoriety in the 50's with the Trad Jazz boom. At that time, an overloaded chain ferry was used to convey the crowd across the river, but during the 60's a small bridge was in existence although it was only wide enough to take the promoter Art Chisnall's mini van. He had to make three separate trips across with the gear strapped to the roof and hanging out the back doors.

The audiences were exceptional for those times and I don't know where they all came from... very much like art students and very much more like the 70's than 60's. Long hair predominated and this was before 'hippies' had officially been invented! If you can imagine a ramshackle wooden ballroom, bursting at the seams, condensation pouring from the walls, the audience on each others shoulders leaping up and down, the sprung dance floor bending alarmingly in the middle, in the summer couples strolling outside and lounging on the river bank ... all this and not a disc jockey in sight! One other bonus was that it was a “free” house and therefore sold many different types of beer— we always favoured Newcastle Brown. Back on the 'mainland' afterwards it was always riotous packing the gear into the truck. I don't know how he managed it but one night Malcolm drove our truck over the support band's guitar which happened to be lying about, thus breaking the neck. I'll never forget the shocked look on that poor guitarist's face as Malcolm smoothly slipped the van into gear, apologised and drove off in that order!

~

No trip up north was complete without stopping at the famed Blue Boar on the M1 for a "grease-up" on the way home. I do not refer to truck lubrication but to a particular rock'n'roll delicacy known as “full-house”. This comprised double egg, sausage, chips, beans, tomatoes, fried slice, tea, and (if you were man enough) toast. It was considered a Herculean task to break successfully the 10 bob' (50p) barrier-all served on wobbly cardboard plates that doubled as items to sign autographs on for the self service waitresses.

Waitress: What band are you?

Me: You won't have heard of us.

Waitress: Oh go on, tell us.

Me: OK. The Artwoods.

Waitress: Never 'eard of you!

It was everybody’s dream to walk into the Blue Boar just as their hit of the moment was playing on the Juke Box.

~

One time we were chosen to represent the twentieth century at the centenary celebrations of the State of Monte Carlo— a most lavish affair which the aristocracy and dignatories of Europe attended. Princess Grace and Prince Ranier were the hosts and people like Gina Lollobrigida and the like were there. The ball was held in the famous Casino at Monte Carlo and we stayed in an opulent hotel called The Hermitage, I think. All I can remember is that we all had single rooms (a rare luxury) which were massive, and you could have pitched a tent under one of the bath towels, they were so big. After this we jetted off up to Paris where we played next door to the Moulin Rouge at a club called The Locomotive.

Whilst we were there we were taken out by our friend Mae Mercer, the American lady blues singer who we backed in England. She lived in Paris and took us out to Memphis Slim's club where we all set about drinking like it was going out of style. At the end there was an embarrassing scene concerning the bill with the result that Mae ended up in tears. Whilst we were bumbling about in an alcoholic stupor, an upright looking gentleman put his arm round Mae to comfort her and a wallet appeared magically from his inside pocket. Without further ado the bill was despatched and we later learned that our anonymous benefactor was none other than Peter O'Toole who was busy in the street outside filming 'Night Of The Generals' and was an old buddy of Mae's.

~

One Boxing Day we loaded up with turkey sandwiches and Xmas pudding and headed off for a gig down in Devon or Cornwall somewhere. We arrived to find the club closed and boarded up, and as usual we were broke. Naturally we were livid, checked into an hotel and located the promoter who lived with his mum. Next morning we drove round to where he lived and burst our way past his confused mum. We found him in his bedroom nervously cowering against some fruit machines which he collected. He had no money so we forced him to empty his damned machines with the result that we drove back to London with 50 quids' worth of 'tanners' (approx 22p for the younger reader!)

Whilst on the subject of disasters I suppose I am duty bound to mention Denmark. The first time we went there we caught the ferry to the continent, drove up through Germany, then caught another ferry to Denmark. There was no promoter to meet us when we arrived so all we could do was drive to Copenhagen and check in at the Grand Hotel. It cost us an arm and a leg but at least we got a good nights sleep after being awake for nearly two days travelling. The next day we made a few phone calls and finally tracked down the promoter. He said: "Didn't you get my telegram cancelling the tour?" We politely said no we hadn't and what did he intend doing with us? He checked us into another hotel (cheaper of course) and set about booking us at places that were similar to English coffee bars and youth clubs. We made enough to survive on and paved the way to more successful tours of that country. In fact by now we had Colin Martin on drums and were pursuing a much more adventurous musical policy and writing our own material. It was just right for Denmark who had taken Hendrix to their hearts to name but one, and we subsequently became quite big there in 1967.

The Artwoods achieved modest success-a minor hit single in "I Take What I Want", but we worked constantly, travelled abroad, had fantastic fun and made a living doing so. We had seven single releases, one album, and one EP, and we broadcast both on radio and TV many times. We did stage tours such as the P. J. Proby tour and covered most aspects of "show-biz" apart from actually making a movie. It was the era when bands still had to prove themselves as a live act before being offered a recording contract. now frequently happens of course that an act can become huge record sellers without so much as venturing to do a live gig.

~

So what happened to everyone? Well Art returned to his former occupation as a commercial artist and finds some time to fit in free-lance work between accompanying brother Ron Wood on raving excursions between Rolling Stones gigs. Malcolm moved into the same field as Art and they now work in the same building. Both of them gig occasionally on a semi-pro basis although Malcolm spent some time playing with Jon Hiseman's Colosseum and Don Partridge in the early 70's. Jon Lord became famous with Deep Purple and Whitesnake as did Keef Hartley with John Mayall and various bands of his own. Colin Martin is now a BBC Radio producer of repute. I played in various bands such as Lucas and The Mike Cotton Sound, Colin Blunstone's band, Dog Soldier (with Keef again), before I somehow drifted into studio and theatre work. Recently I formed an R'n'B band called the G.B. Blues Company, and it's great to be back on the road again.   ”

Derek Griffiths.

Clipping from Record Mirror on June 5, 1965, by Norman Jopling.

“We aim to excite!” … say the Art Woods

Just for the record, the Art Woods aren't a part of Epping Forest. In fact they're a group of five interesting young men, named after the group's leader Art Wood. They also happen to be one of the most realistic groups on the scene.

For a start, they are the awkward position of having a large following, a club residency but no hit record. Secondly. they don't mind pandering to commercial tastes, even though they have been hailed as one of the most authentic R & B groups in the land.

NO PULL

“But authentic R&B just isn't pulling the crowds any more,” says Art. “The audiences want to be excited, not to be lectured on what is 'good' and what is 'bad'. Although there was a time when you could spend half an hour on one number with long solos by everybody, it didn't last long. And although there are some clubs like that still, most of them want something fresh and new.

“And we try to cater for them. We like authentic R&B, but we also like playing everything and anything else. So far, our two discs haven't meant a light. Of course we'd love a hit. But we're lucky enough to make a good living without one.”

DISCS

The Art Woods latest disc is "Oh My Love" and the one before that “Sweet Mary”. Of them Little Walter has said that he couldn't believe any white group could sing and play the blues like they do.

Line-up of the group is Art Wood, leader. vocalist and harmonica. Derek Griffiths, lead guitar, Jon Lord, organ and piano. Malcolm Pool— base guitar, and Keef Hartley on drums. The boys use a specially adapted Lowrie organ, and get a sound that's really different.

But even if the boys sometimes become depressed about no hits records, they should remember groups like Cliff Bennett, the Barron-Knights, the Rockin' Berries and the Yardbirds, and how long THEY waited before they had a hit!

N.J.

[timeless-hollywood-classics]

Clifton Avon "Cliff" Edwards (June 14, 1895 – July 17, 1971), nicknamed "Ukulele Ike", was an American musician, singer and actor, who enjoyed considerable popularity in the 1920s and early 1930s, specializing in jazzy renditions of pop standards and novelty tunes. He had a number one hit with "Singin' in the Rain" in 1929. He also did voices for animated cartoons later in his career, and he is best known as the voice of Jiminy Cricket in Walt Disney's Pinocchio (1940) and Fun and Fancy Free (1947), and Dandy (Jim) Crow in Walt Disney's Dumbo (1941).

Edwards was born in Hannibal, Missouri. He left school at age 14 and soon moved to St. Louis, Missouri and Saint Charles, Missouri, where he entertained as a singer in saloons. As many places had pianos in bad shape or none at all, Edwards taught himself to play ʻukulele to serve as his own accompanist (choosing it because it was the cheapest instrument in the music shop). He was nicknamed "Ukulele Ike" by a club owner who could never remember his name. He got his first break in 1918 at the Arsonia Cafe in Chicago, Illinois, where he performed a song called "Ja-Da", written by the club's pianist, Bob Carleton. Edwards and Carleton made it a hit on the vaudeville circuit. Vaudeville headliner Joe Frisco hired Edwards as part of his act, which was featured at the Palace in New York City—the most prestigious vaudeville theater—and later in the Ziegfeld Follies.

Edwards made his first phonograph records in 1919. He recorded early examples of jazz scat singing in 1922. The following year he signed a contract with Pathé Records. He became one of the most popular singers of the 1920s, appearing in several Broadway shows. He recorded many of the pop and novelty hits of the day, including "California, Here I Come", "Hard Hearted Hannah", "Yes Sir, That's My Baby", and "I'll See You in My Dreams".

In 1924, Edwards performed as the headliner at the Palace, the pinnacle of his vaudeville success. That year he also featured in George and Ira Gershwin's first Broadway musical Lady Be Good, alongside Fred and Adele Astaire. As a recording artist, his hits included "Paddlin’ Madeleine Home" (1925), "I Can't Give You Anything but Love" (1928), and the classic "Singin' in the Rain" (1929), which he introduced. Edwards's own compositions included "(I'm Cryin' 'Cause I Know I'm) Losing You", "You're So Cute (Mama o' Mine)", "Little Somebody of Mine", and "I Want to Call You 'Sweet Mama'". He also recorded a few "off-color" novelty songs for under-the-counter sales, including "I'm a Bear in a Lady's Boudoir," "Take Out That Thing," and "Give It to Mary with Love".

Edwards, more than any other performer, was responsible for the soaring popularity of the ʻukulele.[4] Millions of ʻukuleles were sold during the decade, and Tin Pan Alley publishers added ʻukulele chords to standard sheet music. Edwards always played American Martin ukuleles, favoring the small soprano model in his early career. In his later years, he moved to the larger tenor ʻukulele, which was becoming popular in the 1930s.

Edwards continued to record until shortly before his death in 1971. His last record album, Ukulele Ike, was released posthumously on the independent Glendale label. He reprised many of his 1920s hits; his failing health was however evident in the recordings.

In 1929, Cliff Edwards was playing at the Orpheum Theater in Los Angeles where he caught the attention of movie producer-director Irving Thalberg. His film company Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer hired Edwards to appear in early sound movies. After performing in some short films, Edwards was one of the stars in the feature Hollywood Revue of 1929, doing some comic bits and singing some numbers, including the film debut of his hit "Singin' in the Rain". He appeared in a total of 33 films for MGM through 1933. He had a small role as Mike, playing a ʻukulele very briefly at the beginning of the 1931 movie Laughing Sinners (1931), starring Joan Crawford.

Edwards had a friendly working relationship with MGM's comedy star Buster Keaton, who featured Edwards in three of his films. Keaton, himself a former vaudevillian, enjoyed singing and harmonized with Edwards between takes. One of these casual jam sessions was captured on film, in Doughboys (1930), in which Buster and Cliff scat-sing their way through "You Never Did That Before".

Edwards was also an occasional supporting player in feature films and short subjects at Warner Brothers and RKO Radio Pictures. He played a wisecracking sidekick to western star George O'Brien, and he filled in for Allen Jenkins as "Goldie" opposite Tom Conway in The Falcon Strikes Back. In a 1940 short, he led a cowboy chorus in Cliff Edwards and His Buckaroos. Throughout the 1940s he appeared in a number of "B" westerns playing the comic, singing sidekick to the hero, seven times with Charles Starrett and six with Tim Holt.

Edwards appeared in the darkly sardonic western comedy The Bad Man of Brimstone (1937), and he played the character "Endicott" in the screwball comedy film His Girl Friday (1940). In 1939, he voiced the off-screen wounded Confederate soldier in Gone with the Wind in a hospital scene with Vivien Leigh and Olivia de Havilland.

His most famous voice role was as Jiminy Cricket in Walt Disney's Pinocchio (1940). Edwards's rendition of "When You Wish Upon a Star" is probably his most familiar recorded legacy. He voiced the head crow in Disney's Dumbo (1941) and sang "When I See an Elephant Fly".

In 1932, Edwards had his first national radio show on CBS Radio. He continued hosting network radio shows through 1946. In the early 1930s, however, Edwards' popularity faded as public taste shifted to crooners such as Russ Columbo, Rudy Vallee, and Bing Crosby.

Arthur Godfrey's use of the ʻukulele spurred a surge in its popularity and those that played it, including Edwards. Like many vaudeville stars, Edwards was an early arrival on television. In the 1949 season, he starred in The Cliff Edwards Show, a three-days-a-week (Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings) TV variety show on CBS. In the 1950s and early 1960s, he made appearances on The Mickey Mouse Club, in addition to performing his Jiminy Cricket voice for various Disney shorts and the Disney Christmas spectacular, From All of Us to All of You.

Edwards was careless with the money he made in the 1920s, always trying to sustain his expensive habits and lifestyle. He continued working during the Great Depression, but never again enjoyed his former prosperity. Most of his income went to alimony for his three former wives, and paying debts, and he declared bankruptcy four times during the 1930s and early 1940s. Edwards married his first wife Gertrude Ryrholm in 1919, but they divorced four years later. He married Irene Wylie in 1923; they divorced in 1931. In 1932, he married his third and final wife, actress Judith Barrett. They divorced in 1936. He had no children from any of his three marriages.

As well as being a lifelong heavy tobacco smoker, Edwards also struggled with alcoholism, drug addiction and gambling for much of his career.

In his final years, Edwards lived in a home for indigent actors and often spent his time at the Walt Disney Studios to be available any time he could get voice work. He was sometimes taken to lunch by animators whom he befriended and told stories of his days in vaudeville. He had nearly disappeared from the public eye at the time of his death on July 17, 1971, at the age of 76 from a cardiac arrest brought on by arteriosclerosis. Now penniless, Edwards was a charity patient at the Virgil Convalescent Hospital in Hollywood, California. His body was unclaimed and was donated to the University of California, Los Angeles medical school. When Walt Disney Productions, which had been quietly paying many of his medical expenses, discovered this, they offered to purchase his remains and pay for the burial. Instead, it was done by the Actors' Fund of America (which had also aided Edwards) and the Motion Picture and Television Relief Fund. Disney paid for his grave marker.

In 2002, Edwards' 1940 recording on Victor, Victor 26477, "When You Wish Upon a Star", was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. In 2000, Edwards was awarded as a Disney Legend for voice-acting.

[your-dietician]

How intense psychotherapy and a Bel-Air love nest led to John Lennon's classic debut album

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/how-intense-psychotherapy-and-a-bel-air-love-nest-led-to-john-lennons-classic-debut-album/

How intense psychotherapy and a Bel-Air love nest led to John Lennon's classic debut album

John Lennon and Yoko Ono in January 1970. (Richard DiLello / Yoko Ono Lennon)

In the months before John Lennon and Yoko Ono entered Abbey Road Studios in London to start work on what would become the album “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band,” the couple were renting a home on Nimes Road in one of L.A.’s fanciest neighborhoods, Bel-Air.

The Beatles were still the most famous group in the world but were in the midst of breaking up, with members traveling to and from London to finish “Abbey Road,” work on various solo projects for their label Apple Records and argue about release schedules and royalties.

Living along a curvy lane behind walls that afforded complete privacy and overwhelming views of the city, Lennon and Ono were a world away from that drama. They woke to the sounds of chirping birds, sprinklers and lawnmowers, enjoyed their tea alone and, when so inclined, chilled by the pool. Lennon worked on some songs, including “Working Class Hero,” “Mother,” “Well, Well, Well” and “God.”

Then, each morning, Lennon would drive down Beverly Glen to psychologist Arthur Janov’s West Hollywood office, enter a darkened, soundproof room and scream as loudly and violently as he could.

“He used to finish a session feeling incredibly good,” Janov once recalled.

This backdrop set the tone for “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band,” which came out in December 1970 and is the subject of an exhaustively documented box set just released by Capitol/UME and the Lennon estate. Called “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band (The Ultimate Collection),” it comes with six CDs, two Blu-ray discs, a hardbound book, poster and postcards. It’s a revelatory set, especially for those with access to hi-fi gear and a darkened, soundproof room.

Newly mixed to increase Lennon’s vocal presence from fresh high-resolution transfers, the set features 87 recordings that have never been officially released, including rehearsal sessions, demo tapes recorded on Nimes Road and a series of alternative mixes drawn from unused tracks — congas on “Hold On” are a revelation, for example. An accompanying coffee table book, “John & Yoko/Plastic Ono Band,” offers an even deeper dive into the couple’s creative partnership.

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“During 1970, we did extensive Primal Scream therapy for six months, which was very beneficial for us and many of the songs were inspired as a result of those sessions,” writes Ono in the preface to the coffee table book, adding that “John’s songs were a literate expression of his feelings.” (Ono declined an interview request for this article.)

John Lennon relaxing by the swimming pool at his and Yoko Ono’s rented home in Bel-Air during the summer of 1970. (Yoko Ono Lennon)

The result, “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band,” was Lennon’s debut solo album. It was issued the same day as Ono’s companion album, “Yoko Ono/Plastic Ono Band,” and found Lennon in an intimate setting with a few friends purging unfiltered emotions into songs about “freaks on the phone,” isolation, leaders who “tortured and scared you for 20-odd years” and his lack of belief in, among concepts, Jesus, magic, Adolf Hitler, the I Ching, the Buddha, yoga, kings and the Beatles.

“He had changed a hell of a lot because of this primal scream thing, and that was really heavy,” says Klaus Voormann, who played bass on the album, on the phone from Germany. “It was heavy for him, it was heavy for Yoko, and it was heavy for us.”

As with most things Beatle-related, the critics loved Lennon’s “Plastic Ono Band” when it came out. Creem’s Dave Marsh wrote that it was “interesting and even enlightening to see a man working out his trauma on black plastic but more than that, it’s totally enthralling to see that Lennon has once again unified, to some degree, his life and his music into a truly whole statement.”

The Times’ Robert Hilburn called it “nothing short of a masterpiece,” and “a work that is filled with pain and sorrow, searching and struggle. It is frightfully honest, profoundly moving.” That its emotion is tied to a bestselling psychology self-help book is often overlooked, but it played a central role in Hilburn’s review.

Arthur Janov in 1998. (Ann Summa/Getty Images)

“Primal therapy has to do with the traumas you’ve undergone in the womb, at birth, in infancy and childhood,” Janov explained in an interview excerpted in the book. “We have needs that we are all born with, and when those basic needs are not met, we hurt. And when that hurt is big enough, it’s imprinted in the system. It changes our whole physiologic system and all those pains are held in storage, causing tension, anxiety and depression.”

After Lennon and Ono read Janov’s book, “The Primal Scream” (subtitled “Primal Therapy: The Cure for Neurosis”), Ono asked that Janov travel to them in London, which he did. “He was in bad shape. He couldn’t leave his room,” Janov said of Lennon. But Janov had work in L.A., so Lennon and Ono followed him back and rented a home in Bel-Air. Lennon wasn’t the only one enduring pain. He and Ono had been trying to have a baby, but she had suffered two miscarriages.

Forced to return to England six months later to deal with visa issues, Lennon and Ono were barely off the plane before they entered Abbey Road. The sparse, emotionally raw Lennon solo album is dense with echoes of his West Hollywood wails, and the sessions were the same, Voormann says.

Voormann, best known for creating the art for “Revolver,” had met Lennon and the rest of the Beatles long before Beatlemania took hold, when they were rocking the Star Club in Hamburg, Germany, in the early 1960s, and he remained within the band’s inner circle. At the end of the decade, Voormann had just concluded a run with Manfred Mann when Lennon called to ask whether he’d join him, Ono, Ringo Starr and producer Phil Spector at Abbey Road. Needless to say, it was a welcome invitation.

At Abbey Road, Voormann described walking into “a whole vibe. There was crying. There was laughing. There was happiness. There was hugging each other. And we were all part of this amazing atmosphere.”

John Lennon at EMI Studios in London on Oct. 9, 1970. (Yoko Ono Lennon)

Simon Hilton, the box set’s producer and production manager, said that contrary to reports that Lennon “was angry and throwing headphones and stuff and making a fuss” during the week at Abbey Road, “there’s no evidence of that at all.”

Listening to the rehearsal tapes, which find Lennon, Starr and Voormann working through classics including “Honey Don’t,” “Mystery Train,” “Glad All Over” and the Beatles’ “Get Back,” Hilton continues, “you can hear what an amazing time they were having.”

The three were “obviously working really hard but also really enjoying being in each other’s presence. They were such good mates and I’m sure after the tensions of sitting in the room with Paul and George and Ringo, this was a huge relief.” (Hilton stresses that “John never had any beef with Ringo, ever.”)

“There is a playfulness among the three main musicians that in no way represents how earnest the songs are,” says Rob Stevens, who worked as a mixing engineer on “The Ultimate Collection” and oversaw the raw studio mix recordings and outtakes. “The laser beam is turned on right when the take starts and it’s turned off at the end — and there’s some real silliness before and afterwards.”

A Klaus Voormann illustration from the “John Lennon / Plastic Ono Band” sessions in October 1970. (Klaus Voormann)

All you need to do is listen to “Mother,” the wrenching opening song on the album, to appreciate the ways in which primal scream therapy informed the sessions.

Voormann remembers worrying about Lennon’s vocal cords as he sung the track’s climactic ending, which finds the singer pushing his limits. “I was thinking, ‘Oh my God, I hope he’s not going to lose his voice.'” Lennon, the bassist adds, was never trained as a singer, and cited as an example once requesting “Please Mr. Postman” during the Hamburg days. Lennon declined. “He said, ‘No, let’s do it as the last number because if I do that now, I’m going to be hoarse all night.'”

Lennon is on the cusp of hoarseness, Voormann says, in the final version of “Mother,” which is a song that addresses Lennon’s relationship with his mom, Julia, who as a young parent left Lennon to live with his Aunt Mimi and only sporadically reached out after that. (“I lost her twice,” Lennon recalled during an interview. “Once as a 5-year-old when I was moved in with my aunty, and once again when she actually physically died.”)

“His voice is already starting to break on the record,” Voormann says, “and it’s fantastic because he is really screaming as much and as long as he can. He wanted to get that out of his system. The wounds were opened up inside of him, and these wounds he put into those songs.”

John Lennon and Yoko Ono in London on Feb. 11, 1970. (Richard DiLello / Yoko Ono Lennon)

If there was a flaw, for Ono it was in the final mix. Lennon’s voice wasn’t prominent enough. For this new remaster, Ono suggested the engineers make it more prominent. “That was Yoko’s directive right from the beginning,” says Paul Hicks, who mixed and engineered much of the new set. “‘Bring John’s voice out to the fore’ and ‘You’ll find all the emotion in John’s voice.'”

Adds Rob Stevens of Lennon and Ono’s Lenono Archives, “Bringing John’s voice up was a real revelation for just about anybody who had listened to anything else that he had done.” Referring to a microphone effect that adds a sharp echo, Stevens added that Lennon “covered his voice up with a ton of slap. There’s a ton of reverb.” Stevens says that in the process of working on the recordings, he was able to remove the reverb and hear the unfiltered Lennon. “What was there was the same emotion but more nuanced because there wasn’t a slap or two or three behind it.”

The producer and engineer John Leckie was 20 when he landed a coveted entry-level job running tape at Abbey Road Studios in London. He started in January 1970 and, not long after, was in the studio recording “All Things Must Pass” with George Harrison, and half a year later he was working on Lennon’s record.

Leckie, who has gone on to produce essential records by the Fall, Radiohead, XTC, Elastica, My Morning Jacket and dozens more, says that he recalls this early Lennon session as being a relaxed, comfortable environment. Spector was a quiet, unobtrusive presence — there was no “Wall of Sound” at Abbey Road — and Ono was more involved with the creative back and forth.

“Phil wasn’t there all the time, but my memory is that he was there a lot of time and when he was there, it was really good vibes. It’s funny, because when people ask me about this record, they always seem to think there was this angst — dreadful, painful. ‘What was it like to be in the room with John pouring out all this angst about his abuse over the years and the terrible terror he was going through?'”

Leckie continues, “It wasn’t like that at all, and you can tell by this box and the outtakes it was great fun. He was playing with his best friends. He was playing with Ringo and Klaus Voormann, and he’d known Klaus since Hamburg.”

Voormann underscores the sense of camaraderie at play, an experience jarred by hearing the rehearsal tapes anew. “All this came back to me. It felt so good having certainty knowing we were really a group — this little tiny group, just Ringo, me and John.”

Lennon’s solo debut, in hindsight, was an outlier. He started recording its follow-up, “Imagine,” less than a year later, and not long after that, he and Ono separated. Lennon moved back to L.A. and commenced a bender that many nights led him just a block from Janov’s office, getting drunk with Harry Nilsson at the Troubadour. Lennon and Ono reconciled a few years later. The five studio albums that followed “Plastic Ono Band,” while accomplished, seldom matched the feral energy and sharpened pen found on his debut.

Meanwhile, by 1974, Janov was in the pages of The Times being lumped in with Dear Abby, Billy Graham, radio talk show hosts and witches, as a guru who “professes to have an answer for sale.” A documentary called “Primal Process” followed a few years later. One reviewer praised the film but warned that “the continuous crying can be taxing.” In the 1980s, the English new wave group Tears for Fears took its name from Janov’s therapeutic method, and the similarly inspired “Shout” became one of its signature hits.

Janov, for the record, loved “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band.” Speaking to Hilburn in 1970, the therapist and author, who died in 2017, described it as “a very dialectic album. It is the most personal statement imaginable, yet it has a universal language. It could only be written by someone who has arrived at a state of understanding himself. It isn’t something that any kid with a guitar could sit down and write.”

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.

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[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift: ‘I was literally about to break’

By: Laura Snapes for The Guardian Date: August 24th 2019

Taylor Swift’s Nashville apartment is an Etsy fever dream, a 365-days-a-year Christmas shop, pure teenage girl id. You enter through a vestibule clad in blue velvet and covered in gilt frames bursting with fake flowers. The ceiling is painted like the night sky. Above a koi pond in the living area, a narrow staircase spirals six feet up towards a giant, pillow-lagged birdcage that probably has the best view in the city. Later, Swift will tell me she needs metaphors “to understand anything that happens to me”, and the birdcage defies you not to interpret it as a pointed comment on the contradictions of stardom.

Swift, wearing pale jeans and dip-dyed shirt, her sandy hair tied in a blue scrunchie, leads the way up the staircase to show me the view. The decor hasn’t changed since she bought this place in 2009, when she was 19. “All of these high rises are new since then,” she says, gesturing at the squat glass structures and cranes. Meanwhile her oven is still covered in stickers, more teenage diary than adult appliance.

Now 29, she has spent much of the past three years living quietly in London with her boyfriend, actor Joe Alwyn, making the penthouse a kind of time capsule, a monument to youthful naivety given an unlimited budget – the years when she sang about Romeo and Juliet and wore ballgowns to awards shows; before she moved to New York and honed her slick, self-mythologising pop.

It is mid-August. This is Swift’s first UK interview in more than three years, and she seems nervous: neither presidential nor goofy (her usual defaults), but quick with a tongue-out “ugh” of regret or frustration as she picks at her glittery purple nails. We climb down from the birdcage to sit by the pond, and when the conversation turns to 2016, the year the wheels came off for her, Swift stiffens as if driving over a mile of speed bumps. After a series of bruising public spats (with Katy Perry, Nicki Minaj) in 2015, there was a high-profile standoff with Kanye West. The news that she was in a relationship with actor Tom Hiddleston, which leaked soon after, was widely dismissed as a diversionary tactic. Meanwhile, Swift went to court to prosecute a sexual assault claim, and faced a furious backlash when she failed to endorse a candidate in the 2016 presidential election, allowing the alt-right to adopt her as their “Aryan princess”.

Her critics assumed she cared only about the bottom line. The reality, Swift says, is that she was totally broken. “Every domino fell,” she says bitterly. “It became really terrifying for anyone to even know where I was. And I felt completely incapable of doing or saying anything publicly, at all. Even about my music. I always said I wouldn’t talk about what was happening personally, because that was a personal time.” She won’t get into specifics. “I just need some things that are mine,” she despairs. “Just some things.”

A year later, in 2017, Swift released her album Reputation, half high-camp heel turn, drawing on hip-hop and vaudeville (the brilliantly hammy Look What You Made Me Do), half stunned appreciation that her nascent relationship with Alwyn had weathered the storm (the soft, sensual pop of songs Delicate and Dress).

Her new album, Lover, her seventh, was released yesterday. It’s much lighter than Reputation: Swift likens writing it to feeling like “I could take a full deep breath again”. Much of it is about Alwyn: the Galway Girl-ish track London Boy lists their favourite city haunts and her newfound appreciation of watching rugby in the pub with his uni mates; on the ruminative Afterglow, she asks him to forgive her anxious tendency to assume the worst.

While she has always written about relationships, they were either teenage fantasy or a postmortem on a high-profile breakup, with exes such as Jake Gyllenhaal and Harry Styles. But she and Alwyn have seldom been pictured together, and their relationship is the only other thing she won’t talk about. “I’ve learned that if I do, people think it’s up for discussion, and our relationship isn’t up for discussion,” she says, laughing after I attempt a stealthy angle. “If you and I were having a glass of wine right now, we’d be talking about it – but it’s just that it goes out into the world. That’s where the boundary is, and that’s where my life has become manageable. I really want to keep it feeling manageable.”

Instead, she has swapped personal disclosure for activism. Last August, Swift broke her political silence to endorse Democratic Tennessee candidate Phil Bredesen in the November 2018 senate race. Vote.org reported an unprecedented spike in voting registration after Swift’s Instagram post, while Donald Trump responded that he liked her music “about 25% less now”.

Meanwhile, her recent single You Need To Calm Down admonished homophobes and namechecked US LGBTQ rights organisation Glaad (which then saw increased donations). Swift filled her video with cameos from queer stars such as Ellen DeGeneres and Queen singer Adam Lambert, and capped it with a call to sign her petition in support of the Equality Act, which if passed would prohibit gender- and sexuality-based discrimination in the US. A video of Polish LGBTQ fans miming the track in defiance of their government’s homophobic agenda went viral. But Swift was accused of “queerbaiting” and bandwagon-jumping. You can see how she might find it hard to work out what, exactly, people want from her.

***

It was girlhood that made Swift a multimillionaire. When country music’s gatekeepers swore that housewives were the only women interested in the genre, she proved them wrong. Her self-titled debut marked the longest stay on the Billboard 200 by any album released in the decade. A potentially cloying image – corkscrew curls, lyrics thick on “daddy” and down-home values – were undercut by the fact she was evidently, endearingly, a bit of a freak, an unusual combination of intensity and artlessness. Also, she was really, really good at what she did, and not just for a teenager: her entirely self-written third album, 2010’s Speak Now, is unmatched in its devastatingly withering dismissals of awful men.

As a teenager, Swift was obsessed with VH1’s Behind The Music, the series devoted to the rise and fall of great musicians. She would forensically rewatch episodes, trying to pinpoint the moment a career went wrong. I ask her to imagine she’s watching the episode about herself and do the same thing: where was her misstep? “Oh my God,” she says, drawing a deep breath and letting her lips vibrate as she exhales. “I mean, that’s so depressing!” She thinks back and tries to deflect. “What I remember is that [the show] was always like, ‘Then we started fighting in the tour bus and then the drummer quit and the guitarist was like, “You’re not paying me enough.”’’’

But that’s not what she used to say. In interviews into her early 20s, Swift often observed that an artist fails when they lose their self-awareness, as if repeating the fact would work like an insurance against succumbing to the same fate. But did she make that mistake herself? She squeezes her nose and blows to clear a ringing in her ears before answering. “I definitely think that sometimes you don’t realise how you’re being perceived,” she says. “Pop music can feel like it’s The Hunger Games, and like we’re gladiators. And you can really lose focus of the fact that that’s how it feels because that’s how a lot of stan [fan] Twitter and tabloids and blogs make it seem – the overanalysing of everything makes it feel really intense.”

She describes the way she burned bridges in 2016 as a kind of obliviousness. “I didn’t realise it was like a classic overthrow of someone in power – where you didn’t realise the whispers behind your back, you didn’t realise the chain reaction of events that was going to make everything fall apart at the exact, perfect time for it to fall apart.”

Here’s that chain reaction in full. With her 2014 album 1989 (the year she was born), Swift transcended country stardom, becoming as ubiquitous as Beyoncé. For the first time she vocally embraced feminism, something she had rejected in her teens; but, after a while, it seemed to amount to not much more than a lot of pictures of her hanging out with her “squad”, a bevy of supermodels, musicians and Lena Dunham. The squad very much did not include her former friend Katy Perry, whom Swift targeted in her song Bad Blood, as part of what seemed like a painfully overblown dispute about some backing dancers. Then, when Nicki Minaj tweeted that MTV’s 2015 Video Music awards had rewarded white women at the expense of women of colour, multiple-nominee Swift took it personally, responding: “Maybe one of the men took your slot.” For someone prone to talking about the haters, she quickly became her own worst enemy.

Her old adversary Kanye West resurfaced in February 2016. In 2009, West had invaded Swift’s stage at the MTV VMAs to protest against her victory over Beyoncé in the female video of the year category. It remains the peak of interest in Swift on Google Trends, and the conflict between them has become such a cornerstone of celebrity journalism that it’s hard to remember it lay dormant for nearly seven years – until West released his song Famous. “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex,” he rapped. “Why? I made that bitch famous.” The video depicted a Swift mannequin naked in bed with men including Trump.

Swift loudly condemned both; although she had discussed the track with West, she said she had never agreed to the “bitch” lyric or the video. West’s wife, Kim Kardashian, released a heavily edited clip that showed Swift at least agreeing to the “sex” line on the phone with West, if not the “bitch” part. Swift pleaded the technicality, but it made no difference: when Kardashian went on Twitter to describe her as a snake, the comparison stuck and the singer found herself very publicly “cancelled” – the incident taken as “proof” of Swift’s insincerity. So she went away.

Swift says she stopped trying to explain herself, even though she “definitely” could have. As she worked on Reputation, she was also writing “a think-piece a day that I knew I would never publish: the stuff I would say, and the different facets of the situation that nobody knew”. If she could exonerate herself, why didn’t she? She leans forward. “Here’s why,” she says conspiratorially. “Because when people are in a hate frenzy and they find something to mutually hate together, it bonds them. And anything you say is in an echo chamber of mockery.”

She compares that year to being hit by a tidal wave. “You can either stand there and let the wave crash into you, and you can try as hard as you can to fight something that’s more powerful and bigger than you,” she says. “Or you can dive under the water, hold your breath, wait for it to pass and while you’re down there, try to learn something. Why was I in that part of the ocean? There were clearly signs that said: Rip tide! Undertow! Don’t swim! There are no lifeguards!” She’s on a roll. “Why was I there? Why was I trusting people I trusted? Why was I letting people into my life the way I was letting them in? What was I doing that caused this?”

After the incident with Minaj, her critics started pointing out a narrative of “white victimhood” in Swift’s career. Speaking slowly and carefully, she says she came to understand “a lot about how my privilege allowed me to not have to learn about white privilege. I didn’t know about it as a kid, and that is privilege itself, you know? And that’s something that I’m still trying to educate myself on every day. How can I see where people are coming from, and understand the pain that comes with the history of our world?”

She also accepts some responsibility for her overexposure, and for some of the tabloid drama. If she didn’t wish a friend happy birthday on Instagram, there would be reports about severed friendships, even if they had celebrated together. “Because we didn’t post about it, it didn’t happen – and I realised I had done that,” she says. “I created an expectation that everything in my life that happened, people would see.”

But she also says she couldn’t win. “I’m kinda used to being gaslit by now,” she drawls wearily. “And I think it happens to women so often that, as we get older and see how the world works, we’re able to see through what is gaslighting. So I’m able to look at 1989 and go – KITTIES!” She breaks off as an assistant walks in with Swift’s three beloved cats, stars of her Instagram feed, back from the vet before they fly to England this week. Benjamin, Olivia and Meredith haughtily circle our feet (they are scared of the koi) as Swift resumes her train of thought, back to the release of 1989 and the subsequent fallout. “Oh my God, they were mad at me for smiling a lot and quote-unquote acting fake. And then they were mad at me that I was upset and bitter and kicking back.” The rules kept changing.

***

Swift’s new album comes with printed excerpts from her diaries. On 29 August 2016, she wrote in her girlish, bubble writing: “This summer is the apocalypse.” As the incident with West and Kardashian unfolded, she was preparing for her court case against radio DJ David Mueller, who was fired in 2013 after Swift reported him for putting his hand up her dress at a meet-and–greet event. He sued her for defamation; she countersued for sexual assault.

“Having dealt with a few of them, narcissists basically subscribe to a belief system that they should be able to do and say whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want to,” Swift says now, talking at full pelt. “And if we – as anyone else in the world, but specifically women – react to that, well, we’re not allowed to. We’re not allowed to have a reaction to their actions.”

In summer 2016 she was in legal depositions, practising her testimony. “You’re supposed to be really polite to everyone,” she says. But by the time she got to court in August 2017, “something snapped, I think”. She laughs. Her testimony was sharp and uncompromising. She refused to allow Mueller’s lawyers to blame her or her security guards; when asked if she could see the incident, Swift said no, because “my ass is in the back of my body”. It was a brilliant, rude defence.

“You’re supposed to behave yourself in court and say ‘rear end’,” she says with mock politesse. “The other lawyer was saying, ‘When did he touch your backside?’ And I was like, ‘ASS! Call it what it is!’” She claps between each word. But despite the acclaim for her testimony and eventual victory (she asked for one symbolic dollar), she still felt belittled. It was two months prior to the beginning of the #MeToo movement. “Even this case was literally twisted so hard that people were calling it the ‘butt-grab case’. They were saying I sued him because there’s this narrative that I want to sue everyone. That was one of the reasons why the summer was the apocalypse.”

She never wanted the assault to be made public. Have there been other instances she has dealt with privately? “Actually, no,” she says soberly. “I’m really lucky that it hadn’t happened to me before. But that was one of the reasons it was so traumatising. I just didn’t know that could happen. It was really brazen, in front of seven people.” She has since had security cameras installed at every meet-and-greet she does, deliberately pointed at her lower half. “If something happens again, we can prove it with video footage from every angle,” she says.

The allegations about Harvey Weinstein came out soon after she won her case. The film producer had asked her to write a song for the romantic comedy One Chance, which earned her second Golden Globe nomination. Weinstein also got her a supporting role in the 2014 sci-fi movie The Giver, and attended the launch party for 1989. But she says they were never alone together.

“He’d call my management and be like, ‘Does she have a song for this film?’ And I’d be like, ‘Here it is,’” she says dispassionately. “And then I’d be at the Golden Globes. I absolutely never hung out. And I would get a vibe – I would never vouch for him. I believe women who come forward, I believe victims who come forward, I believe men who come forward.” Swift inhales, flustered. She says Weinstein never propositioned her. “If you listen to the stories, he picked people who were vulnerable, in his opinion. It seemed like it was a power thing. So, to me, that doesn’t say anything – that I wasn’t in that situation.”

Meanwhile, Donald Trump was more than nine months into his presidency, and still Swift had not taken a position. But the idea that a pop star could ever have impeded his path to the White House seemed increasingly naive. In hindsight, the demand that Swift speak up looks less about politics and more about her identity (white, rich, powerful) and a moralistic need for her to redeem herself – as if nobody else had ever acted on a vindictive instinct, or blundered publicly.

But she resisted what might have been an easy return to public favour. Although Reputation contained softer love songs, it was better known for its brittle, vengeful side (see This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things). She describes that side of the album now as a “bit of a persona”, and its hip-hop-influenced production as “a complete defence mechanism”. Personally, I thought she had never been more relatable, trashing the contract of pious relatability that traps young women in the public eye.

***

It was the assault trial, and watching the rights of LGBTQ friends be eroded, that finally politicised her, Swift says. “The things that happen to you in your life are what develop your political opinions. I was living in this Obama eight-year paradise of, you go, you cast your vote, the person you vote for wins, everyone’s happy!” she says. “This whole thing, the last three, four years, it completely blindsided a lot of us, me included.”

She recently said she was “dismayed” when a friend pointed out that her position on gay rights wasn’t obvious (what if she had a gay son, he asked), hence this summer’s course correction with the single You Need To Calm Down (“You’re comin’ at my friends like a missile/Why are you mad?/When you could be GLAAD?”). Didn’t she feel equally dismayed that her politics weren’t clear? “I did,” she insists, “and I hate to admit this, but I felt that I wasn’t educated enough on it. Because I hadn’t actively tried to learn about politics in a way that I felt was necessary for me, making statements that go out to hundreds of millions of people.”

She explains her inner conflict. “I come from country music. The number one thing they absolutely drill into you as a country artist, and you can ask any other country artist this, is ‘Don’t be like the Dixie Chicks!’” In 2003, the Texan country trio denounced the Iraq war, saying they were “ashamed” to share a home state with George W Bush. There was a boycott, and an event where a bulldozer crushed their CDs. “I watched country music snuff that candle out. The most amazing group we had, just because they talked about politics. And they were getting death threats. They were made such an example that basically every country artist that came after that, every label tells you, ‘Just do not get involved, no matter what.’

“And then, you know, if there was a time for me to get involved…” Swift pauses. “The worst part of the timing of what happened in 2016 was I felt completely voiceless. I just felt like, oh God, who would want me? Honestly.” She would otherwise have endorsed Hillary Clinton? “Of course,” she says sincerely. “I just felt completely, ugh, just useless. And maybe even like a hindrance.”

I suggest that, thinking selfishly, her coming out for Clinton might have made people like her. “I wasn’t thinking like that,” she stresses. “I was just trying to protect my mental health – not read the news very much, go cast my vote, tell people to vote. I just knew what I could handle and I knew what I couldn’t. I was literally about to break. For a while.” Did she seek therapy? “That stuff I just really wanna keep personal, if that’s OK,” she says.

She resists blaming anyone else for her political silence. Her emergence as a Democrat came after she left Big Machine, the label she signed to at 15. (They are now at loggerheads after label head Scott Borchetta sold the company, and the rights to Swift’s first six albums, to Kanye West’s manager, Scooter Braun.) Had Borchetta ever advised her against speaking out? She exhales. “It was just me and my life, and also doing a lot of self-reflection about how I did feel really remorseful for not saying anything. I wanted to try and help in any way that I could, the next time I got a chance. I didn’t help, I didn’t feel capable of it – and as soon as I can, I’m going to.”

Swift was once known for throwing extravagant 4 July parties at her Rhode Island mansion. The Instagram posts from these star-studded events – at which guests wore matching stars-and-stripes bikinis and onesies – probably supported a significant chunk of the celebrity news industry GDP. But in 2017, they stopped. “The horror!” wrote Cosmopolitan, citing “reasons that remain a mystery” for their disappearance. It wasn’t “squad” strife or the unavailability of matching cozzies that brought the parties to an end, but Swift’s disillusionment with her country, she says.

There is a smart song about this on the new album – the track that should have been the first single, instead of the cartoonish ME!. Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince is a forlorn, gothic ballad in the vein of Lana Del Rey that uses high-school imagery to dismantle American nationalism: “The whole school is rolling fake dice/You play stupid games/You win stupid prizes,” she sings with disdain. “Boys will be boys then/Where are the wise men?”

As an ambitious 11-year-old, she worked out that singing the national anthem at sports games was the quickest way to get in front of a large audience. When did she start feeling conflicted about what America stands for? She gives another emphatic ugh. “It was the fact that all the dirtiest tricks in the book were used and it worked,” she says. “The thing I can’t get over right now is gaslighting the American public into being like” – she adopts a sanctimonious tone – “‘If you hate the president, you hate America.’ We’re a democracy – at least, we’re supposed to be – where you’re allowed to disagree, dissent, debate.” She doesn’t use Trump’s name. “I really think that he thinks this is an autocracy.”

As we speak, Tennessee lawmakers are trying to impose a near-total ban on abortion. Swift has staunchly defended her “Tennessee values” in recent months. What’s her position? “I mean, obviously, I’m pro-choice, and I just can’t believe this is happening,” she says. She looks close to tears. “I can’t believe we’re here. It’s really shocking and awful. And I just wanna do everything I can for 2020. I wanna figure out exactly how I can help, what are the most effective ways to help. ’Cause this is just…” She sighs again. “This is not it.”

***

It is easy to forget that the point of all this is that a teenage Taylor Swiftwanted to write love songs. Nemeses and negativity are now so entrenched in her public persona that it’s hard to know how she can get back to that, though she seems to want to. At the end of Daylight, the new album’s dreamy final song, there’s a spoken-word section: “I want to be defined by the things that I love,” she says as the music fades. “Not the things that I hate, not the things I’m afraid of, the things that haunt me in the middle of the night.” As well as the songs written for Alwyn, there is one for her mother, who recently experienced a cancer relapse: “You make the best of a bad deal/I just pretend it isn’t real,” Swift sings, backed by the Dixie Chicks.

How does writing about her personal life work if she’s setting clearer boundaries? “It actually made me feel more free,” she says. “I’ve always had this habit of never really going into detail about exactly what situation inspired what thing, but even more so now.” This is only half true: in the past, Swift wasn’t shy of a level of detail that invited fans to figure out specific truths about her relationships. And when I tell her that Lover feels a more emotionally guarded album, she bristles. “I know the difference between making art and living your life like a reality star,” she says. “And then even if it’s hard for other people to grasp, my definition is really clear.”

Even so, Swift begins Lover by addressing an adversary, opening with a song called I Forgot That You Existed (“it isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference”), presumably aimed at Kanye West, a track that slightly defeats its premise by existing. But it sweeps aside old dramas to confront Swift’s real nemesis, herself. “I never grew up/It’s getting so old,” she laments on The Archer.

She has had to learn not to pre-empt disaster, nor to run from it. Her life has been defined by relationships, friendships and business relationships that started and ended very publicly (though she and Perry are friends again). At the same time, the rules around celebrity engagement have evolved beyond recognition in her 15 years of fame. Rather than trying to adapt to them, she’s now asking herself: “How do you learn to maintain? How do you learn not to have these phantom disasters in your head that you play out, and how do you stop yourself from sabotage – because the panic mechanism in your brain is telling you that something must go wrong.” For her, this is what growing up is. “You can’t just make cut-and-dry decisions in life. A lot of things are a negotiation and a grey area and a dance of how to figure it out.”

And so this time, Swift is sticking around. In December she will turn 30, marking the point after which more than half her life will have been lived in public. She’ll start her new decade with a stronger self-preservationist streak, and a looser grip (as well as a cameo in Cats). “You can’t micromanage life, it turns out,” she says, drily.

When Swift finally answered my question about the moment she would choose in the VH1 Behind The Music episode about herself, the one where her career turned, she said she hoped it wouldn’t focus on her “apocalypse” summer of 2016. “Maybe this is wishful thinking,” she said, “but I’d like to think it would be in a couple of years.” It’s funny to hear her hope that the worst is still to come while sitting in her fairytale living room, the cats pacing: a pragmatist at odds with her romantic monument to teenage dreams. But it sounds something like perspective.

[secretradiobrooklyn]

Get In Moses Edition | 2.13.21

Secret Radio | 2.13.21 | Hear it here.

art by Paige, liner notes mostly by Evan, *means Paige

1. Chantal Goya - “Tu m’as trop menti”

From the movie “Masculin feminin,” a DVD we borrowed from Tim. This is the film where Godard was whispering the lines into a headset of the actor, so they were learning their lines literally as they were saying them. This is the opening song. Not particularly Valentine’s Day, in that it’s about lying too much… but still there’s a dissatisfaction that is undeniably a part of French romance.

2. Human League - “(Keep Feeling) Fascination”

Such a square song! But the keys hook is so immortally beautiful, with its crucial warble. The rest of the song is sweetly and innocently ‘80s. It reminds me of being in art class in high school, fully participating in the aesthetic crimes of the era. 

3. Marijata - “Break Through” - “Afro-Beat Airways”

Analog Africa is just now releasing a repress of this long sold-out collection. I’d listened to it before, but I guess that was before I knew about Marijata (thanks again, Jeffrey!) because it was a shock to discover a track by one of our very favorite Ghanaian discoveries. So far as I knew, Marijata only released one album of four songs — which is fantastic — and then eventually started backing a guy named Pat Thomas. Those records, unfortunately, are nowhere near as vital and fascinating as their own record. So finding this song was a welcome revelation! I should also say that, no surprise, the whole collection is a banger from front to back, and will definitely show up again on the show.

4. Philippe Katerine (avec Gérard Depardieu) - “Blond”

This strange guy is a kind of joker songwriter in French pop, as far as I can tell. This song is all about what one can get away with if one is blond. He’s a really fascinating character, a tiny bit like Beck maybe, in the sense that he seems to have made a successful career of taking unexpected directions. He’s also an actor, working with Claire Denis (!), Jonathan Demme and Gille Lellouche among many others. He was also in “Gainsbourg - A Heroic Life,” which is an excellent movie that we highly recommend. (We had no idea who he was when we saw it at the St. Louis Film Festival.) Also, he appears to be married to Gérard Depardieu’s daughter, which would seem to explain this particular guest star.

- The Texas Room - “Cielito Lindo” 

Several years ago, a producer in St. Louis put together the amazing album known as “The Texas Room,” which brought together immigrants from all over the world who currently lived in St. Louis. That meant Bosnians, Cameroonians, Mexicans, and native-born Americans… including Andy Garces, a fellow Paige went to high school with — His mom was Paige’s voice teacher as a matter of fact — who recorded this strange and excellent version of “Cielito Lindo.” The release party for the album was one of the greatest nights we spent in that or any city, dancing our faces off to all kinds of music. At one point the Bosnians got so excited they took over the room, shouting along and hoisting up their guy in the air. Basil Kincaid did the art for the album, and I think that’s the night we finally met. We have one of his collages on our studio wall right now — right over there!

5. The Modern Lovers - “I’m Straight” *

When we got the current SK van (circa 2015) we were super excited because we could finally bring out other musicians on the road and we could also have folks from other bands that we were out with jump in the van with us for a stretch. That February we were on tour with Jamaican Queens, and our friend Andy Kahn came out with us to play guitar. Not only is Andy a rad musician and great guy to be around, but he was an excellent road DJ. Somehow I made it to 30 without getting into The Modern Lovers (I know, crazy!) Andy has great taste and had a well appointed iPod so he was the official van DJ pretty much right away. He put on this record one day and I just lost it. The thing is, after that I was like “Play ‘Roadrunner’ again!” all the time. When I hear this record I still think of that tour. Andy in the back seat DJing, Ben and Erik jumping in the van to come with to Baltimore, graduating to “truck” in the Holland Tunnel queue, so much snow, host Bentley, “Go cats?”, Aaaaaahhhhh!

6. Frances Carroll & the Coquettes - “Coquette / When I Swing My Stick / Jitterbug Stomp”

I think we learned about this band last year, when Coquettes drummer Viola Smith died at 107 years old (in Costa Mesa, not Silverlake, Paige would like you to know — her bad). The video link below is highly recommended — the whole band swings hard, and the interaction between them and Frances Carroll is well worth the watch. They were considered a curiosity at the time, being an all-female band, and man they could play. Viola Smith in particular had an insanely long career, playing from the 1920s straight through into 2019! She played with Ella Fitzgerald and Chick Webb, and in the original Broadway production of “Cabaret.” Her particular innovation was having two toms at shoulder height, on either side of her head, which she would roll and ricochet shots off. Very cool style, never copied.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFDD_NxtKZ4

7. Pierre Sandwidi - “Boy Cuisinier”

Born Bad Records is one of the world’s coolest record labels, with a huge array of vintage discoveries as well as African albums as well as contemporary pop and noise bands. “Boy Cuisinier” is off Pierre Sandwidi’s album with them. It bears some definite relation to Francis Bebey but takes its own turns just as often. Sandwidi hails from Burkina Faso, known as the Upper Volta when he was growing up. We’re just now learning about him and his scene — I confess I didn’t even know Upper Volta was African; I thought it was Slavic — so I wouldn’t be surprised if some more Voltaic music shows up here soon.

8. Evan Sult avec Tracy Brubeck  - “The Cats Won’t Stay In”

Paige’s mom Tracy called while we were in the middle of the show, and they paused to have a conversation about, you know, whatever — the snowstorms, the neighbors, the news. She was on speakerphone so that we could all talk, and eventually I just started taking notes as fast as I could. This is the result. I find it fascinating. That’s Paige singing lead on the Marty Robbins tune.

9.  Kil Monnower Alimunna, Grup Hindustanbul - “Tadap Tadap” 

Years ago I saw the movie “Monsoon Wedding” by the director Mira Nair. It really stuck with me, particularly the gorgeous opening credits in maroon and orange and sky blue. I was trying to tell Paige about that sequence, so just in case we could catch a glimpse of those colors, we watched the trailer. This song is the soundtrack to the trailer. It’s really an amazing track — so Indian, of course, but with definite Western points of contact, like when it goes to the major chords unexpectedly in the post-chorus, which sounds practically American. And the final outro minute or so is full of delayed, reverbed vocals in a psychedelic style, til it reaches the strange and intoxicating sound that he makes with his voice as the song fades into the distance.

- Martial Solal “New York Herald Tribune” - “A bout de souffle” soundtrack 

10. Gillian Hills - “Tut Tut Tut Tut” 

Gillian Hills, probably more famous for “Zou Bisou Bisou.” This track is great, listen for those syrupy slides and harmonies. I just learned that she is English, and the music video for this song is definitely shot in Angleterre. Full of famous red phone booths (now famous little free libraries.) When we were doing this week’s show I asked Evan “Is this song too obvious?” He said no, it wasn’t too obvious. If you know why I’m asking, then you know. So is it? 

11. Jacques Dutronc “La Compapade”

We’ve been into Jacques Dutronc for many years now, because he’s a brilliant French songwriter and composer. But this one track has been a baffler for many years now. It shows up out of nowhere and sounds like… what? What the hell IS that? Is it African? It sounds African, but — is it? Is it just some strange lark on his part? Paige was apprehensive about playing it on the show, even though we both really enjoy it, because we couldn’t tell if it was somehow demeaning to someone. But eventually I argued that we don’t know what the hell most of the singers are saying in the songs we play, or which cultural taboos they’re transgressing, and the same is true in this case. If it is somehow offensive to anyone, I hope it’s clear that wasn’t our intention. But… I don’t know. I don’t think it is. I think it just comes from a cultural heritage and context that is French in a way Americans cannot understand or appreciate. In any case, it’s an amazing performance and recording!

12. K. Frimpong & His Cubanos Fiestas - Me Da A Ɔnnda”

Research into African rock and styles eventually brought us to K. Frimpong and His Cubanos Fiestas, which has turned out to be a satisfying step into the Ghanaian highlife/Cuban scene. I love the keyboard hooks in this one and the way the patterns just roll on and on with each other like a river, in no hurry but pulled forward by their own currents. He was also a visual artist — his art appeared on the cover of last episode’s Nyame Bekyere album. This was also the first time I’ve encountered the character “Ɔ” in the wild. I have zero idea how it is pronounced.

13. They Might Be Giants - “Birdhouse In Your Soul” 

“Not to put too fine a point on it / Say I’m the only bee on your bonnet / Make a little birdhouse in your soul.” I remember when I first realized that was a feeling I was feeling — hoping to build a birdhouse in the soul of another, to be inside one another in a little protected place. The rest of the song is a nerd-rock dream palace I love as much as any other nerd, but the chorus is where I discovered an emotion I hadn’t suspected was there when I first heard and fell for this song and this band in high school (thanks, Jeremy Peterson!). 

Paige adds: This song is blowing my mind. I don’t like writing lyrics, my ratio of melodies and harmonies to lyrics way out of whack. Evan brought this song back into our lives this week when Sleepy Kitty was asked what our favorite love songs are on a real radio show. We’ve been listening to it a bunch since Thursday and damn, these lyrics are good. It’s really reminding me that you can write about ANY.THING. Blue Canary in the freakin’ outlet by the light switch. Looking at the lighthouse picture. It’s a clinic. I learned something, and I can go home. 

On the original topic, I love thinking of this as a love song. If you hear a love song, it’s a love song. It’s a love song.

14. Sleepy Kitty - “Tu veux ou tu veux pas” *

I took two years of French in high school and missed out junior and senior year because of a scheduling lulu that made 3rd and 4th year French conflict with advanced painting which was the primary reason I was taking French in the first place. I’m still not over it. Years later, I’m at Electropolis (in my memory) and I hear this Brigitte Bardot song on Tim’s excellent sound system and I can understand…most?…some…of it! I fell in love with this song and with French again and started stumbling, scrabbling at it again. We started working up this cover. Thank you Suzie Gilb for helping with the pronunciation. We did a 7” of this song and it’s a rare SK track with me playing trombone on it. 

15. The Velvet Underground - “I Love You” *

I don’t really have much to say about this track except that it reminds me of flying to Germany because I got the 5 Disc set with all the extras on it a few days before leaving for a high school foreign exchange program. I was so happy to have those discs to absorb on the long flight, and come to think of it, it really inflected the whole trip.

16. Secret Song - “African Scream Contest”

The genesis of our love for African rock/funk/whatever (if for a moment we don’t count the profoundly influential “Graceland”) is the immortal collection “Legends of Benin,” put out by Analog Africa. As soon as we dug further for our favorites from that collection, we found “African Scream Contest” vols 1 and 2. I was drawn to the second one because it had a killer track by our hero Antoine Dougbé, but eventually spent as much time with the first volume. Both are absolutely fantastic. Part of what I love so much about them is learning how much of an impact James Brown and his band had on African music, which is super apparent throughout these collections and especially this track. The drums and the grunts and the hard stops and the horn blasts — it’s all there. 

One of the finest elements of these records is the hidden track at the end, tucked five or so minutes back from the last song. These are often some of the hottest tracks on the album, well worth the wait, and this mystery song is no exception. Unfortunately, though, that means we don’t know who made this track or what it’s called. Oh well — that only makes it cooler!

- Adrian from Brooklyn

17. The Beatles - “Dizzy Miss Lizzy”

We watched “The Beatles: Eight Days a Week” recently (totally worth a watch), and we were struck all over again by how insane their lives must have been at that time. Yes fame, yes sudden fortune, yes global supremacy, yes yes yes — the thing that I can’t get over is the shrieking, and how it wasn’t just present at their shows, it was EVERYWHERE THEY WENT, AT ALL TIMES ON ALL DAYS, EVERY SECOND THEY WERE OUTSIDE. How completely unsettling that must have been, to be the center of that howl, day after day, year after year. 

18. The Fall - “Sing! Harpy”

Dedicated to Adrian from Brooklyn and all those young women and men losing their minds over the Beatles so completely that all they could do was shriek, even at shows where the crowd’s sound completely obliterated the sound of the band they so desperately loved and came to hear. 

(This is also some of my favorite violin playing in any rock music, right up there with “Boys Keep Swinging” and The Ex’s “State of Shock.” I would LOVE to work with a violinist in this mode.)

19. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo - “Gnon a Gnon Wa”

So intense! That constant chord strike throughout the song is a kind of high-note drone that we find ourselves drawn to. It kind of reminds me of the sound of a casino, where you walk in and all of the machines are chiming the same note, promising to just take your mind away and keep it safe until you need it again.

- Tommy Guerrero - “El Camino Negro” - “Road to Nowhere”

20. Black Dragons de Porto Novo - “Se Djro” What a slinky number! I love how spare the instrumentation is, but how much power is contained in that one guitar part. This is side A of a 7” put out on Albarika Store, the label that T.P. Orchestre called home for many albums. 

21. Helen Nkume and Her Young Timers - “Time” This is (so far) the closest we’ve gotten to reggae on WBFF. I know nothing about the band or the music other than their fantastic name and sound — oh, and the fact that she is known elsewhere as Prophetess Helen Nkume. She appears to be Nigerian, or anyway her record label is. I love the guitar hook on this song, it just sneaks in and steals the show.

22. Anne Sylvestre - “Les Gens Qui Doutent”

23. Parvati Khan - “Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi Aaja Aaja Aaja Re Mere” A lucky find! Someone in one of my Facebook groups posted a video from this album, so I took note and returned later to check it out. This is from an Indian movie called “I’m a Disco Dancer” that looks like a real kooky thrill. The actors appear to have only the vaguest sense of what “disco” might be — or what a guitar might be, for that matter. It kind of looks like someone saw a single photo of a disco night and extrapolated a whole movie from it. Nonetheless, Parvati Khan is entrancing in the song and in the video, and we HAVE to see this movie, with or without subtitles. The smoldering look alone really requires investigation:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUdJQSUcK_Y

24. Nancy Sit - “Love Potion #9” * One thing I’ve always known about Evan is that he doesn’t like the song  “Love Potion #9.” When we stumbled across this, I thought it was awesome but I didn’t want to make Evan listen to a song he doesn’t like on Valentine’s Day! Evan says this song has little to do with “Love Potion #9” which makes me wonder, Evan, what’s the part you don’t like about “Love Potion #9”?

Evan adds: I honestly can’t remember what my issue with this song was. I swear, it was like… it was around the time of “Melt With You,” which I also found inexplicably irritating (and still do). I suspect now that there was an inept cover version that first steered me wrong… but luckily there’s a strange Chinese version to steer me right again! Oh life.

- Michel Legrand - “Solange’s Song (Instrumental)” - “The Young Ladies of Rocheforte”

25. The Velvet Underground - “I’ll Be Your Mirror” * This is the song that I said was the best love song of the western world on the real radio. I think it’s so beautiful and so adult. I don’t even know if I would have thought of this as love song a few years ago. When first got into the V.U. I thought it was a pretty song – a neat song, but I didn’t really know what it meant, what it could mean. What’s funny is when I think of this song, I have a Lou Reed version in my head – his voice, the harmonies. When I revisited the Max’s Kansas City live version (which as far as I know is the only one besides other more recent live versions and surely what I’m thinking of?) I realized that the version in my head is essentially that one but cleaned up, remastered, different EQ, and as far as I know entirely imagined.

Evan adds: (Paige has been playing this song recently around the apartment. I don’t even have to tell you how lovely it is.)

*p.s. If you want to hear the piece about musicians talking about favorite love songs on KWMU it’s here: https://news.stlpublicradio.org/show/st-louis-on-the-air/2021-02-11/listen-love-songs-to-keep-you-warm-on-cold-winter-nights

Super fun getting to talk about this stuff and in such good company!

[fletcherr]

hi ! i’m maren and i’m bad at intros ! and bios ! and things in general ! ... why am i here again ? uhm. anyway ! this is fletcher and uh ... he hates it here askdjfs like i can’t lie i’m so sorry but for the time being it’s ... lowkey the truth ? i’m writing this part of the post first so fingers crossed i manage to keep this short and to the point. if there’s no tldr it’s because this was supposed to be it. ( spoiler ; i failed. it’s so fucking long you literally do not have to read it i am so sorry. ) i’m super excited to be here and cannot wait to get to know you and your muses and be a part of this amazing group !!

THE APP !

˖ °╰ ⌜ [ MUSE TEN, ROBERT PATTINSON, 31, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ] hey, have you seen FLETCHER DUNCAN ? last time i saw them i think they were hanging around THE ROOFTOP. they can kind of be VEHEMENT but can also be pretty HAUGHTY. they’re often caught listening to SUPERSTAR SH*T - DOMINIC FIKE ! they also tend to remind me of cheap cigarettes put out in still half full glasses of rare bourbon, flipping off paparazzi, showing up to important meetings bleary-eyed and twenty minutes late, wearing sunglasses inside and black hoodies on the hottest day of summer, feeling uninspired for months then writing three albums worth of songs in two weeks ! let me know if you’ve seen them around, they’ve been working at the championship around FOUR MONTHS and they’re late for their shift !

THE BASICS !

full name: fletcher ralph duncan ( born fletcher ralph irvine )

nicknames: prefers fletcher, but is okay with fletch or duncan

date of birth: november 18th, 1989

gender: cis male

pronouns: he / him

height: 6′1

tattoos: some stupid ones without any deeper meaning to them on his arms and thighs, for sure

THE ( VERY ) IN - DEPTH ! tw for mentions of abuse of drugs and alcohol, terminal illness, hospitals, and death

after years of marriage, fletcher’s parents had him when they were both about to enter their forties, as one last, final attempt to find back to the love they’d had for each other when they started dating way back in high school. it didn’t work. his father left  when fletcher was four; leaving divorce papers on the kitchen table two weeks before christmas. him and his mother, winnie, moved from one of the suburbs to a smaller, more affordable apartment in brooklyn. they were never quite comfortable, money-wise, but they didn’t struggle either. two years after the move, his mother started seeing a guy she’d been introduced to through friends from work. fletcher adored richard from the first time they met, and as the years went by he came to consider him more of a dad than he ever did the one who left. that’s probably why he didn’t mourn when his father passed suddenly and unexpectedly the summer he turned ten. the following summer, winnie and richard married, and both her and fletcher completely rid themselves of the man who walked out on them when they both changed their last name from his to richard’s - duncan.

when richard moved in, he’d brought an electric guitar and a sparse record collection with him. these were fletcher’s first real introduction to music. he dove in head first. there’s no telling how many evenings they sat in the living room, records playing, or fletcher practicing on the guitar until he was caught up with his dad’s guitar skills. turns out, he was actually a bit of a natural. after he’d mastered his first instrument, he moved onto another. his mother - who’d been a classically trained, lifetimes ago - taught him to the best of her ability on a keyboard they got from a yard sale. he spent hours at a time in record stores. championship vinyl had always been richard’s favorite, and it wasn’t long until it was his favorite too. consuming music wasn’t enough, though. by the time he was in high school, fletcher was writing his own songs; creating his own music. of course - none of it was ever remotely up to par with the songs he kept discovering, but it didn’t matter. him and two kindred spirits he met at school formed a band, performing covers and the stuff he wrote. to afford actual gig gear - not that they ever booked many of those - fletcher applied for a part time job the only place he could think to; championship vinyl. though he'd been a regular for the better part of a decade by that time, he was still in disbelief and awe when he got the job.

fletcher thrived at championship. he took on all the shifts his schedule would allow him, and even skipped class to cover for anyone that asked. even when he was off the clock, he’d hang around. if he wasn’t flicking through new inventory or catching up with the whoever was at work, he’d be sitting on the rooftop with his guitar, a pen and a roll of receipt paper - scratching down song ideas and testing out new material. things were looking up; he was a creatively fulfilled high school senior with a job he loved, parents that supported- and loved him unconditionally, and he’d just been accepted into nyu. therefore, it rocked his world when his dad stopped by during one of his shifts, only to collapse while fletcher had his back turned to find a rare vinyl he’d set aside for him as a surprise. 

the diagnosis was a death sentence. months flew by in the blink of an eye, and he watched the only dad he’d ever truly known wither away before his eyes. weeks shy of a year to the date of the diagnosis, on the day richard duncan passed away, his son brought the old record player and the by now weathered records from the brooklyn apartment to the hospital room. he drew his last breath surrounded by the music and the family he loved.

not recently having gone through the same kind of world crumbling sorrow and the revelation about not wasting away and following your dreams that walks that’s bound to follow, his bandmates weren’t all that keen on the plan fletcher presented them with; movin to la and making it in music. really making it. with one of three members hellbent on leaving, the band broke up. they never could agree on a name, anyway. he turned in his resignation at championship, and jokingly promised james namsen to not come back until he’d won a grammy. winnie, though heartbroken to first lose the love of her life, and now having her son move away, had nothing but support and encouragement to offer when he announced he’d be dropping out of college to pursue music.

the first two years, nothing happened. he was living and working in downtown la; the apartment he shared with four roommates was just shy of being a shoebox, and the franchise record  store he eventually scored a job at lacked the soul and the hum of energy he was used to from championship back in new york. just as ambition and hope was wearing thin, things were starting to look up for him. he was meeting the right people in the right places, at the right times. after opening for a few up and coming acts, he was approached by a manager, who in turn introduced him to a few labels. though he was very aware he wasn’t a strong vocalist, he was confident in himself as a musician and a songwriter, and it seemed so was the internationally renowned label that ended up offering him a contract. his first single dropped not even a year later, soon followed by his debut album.

though his star was slowly rising, the album made only a miniscule splash. he toured it as an opening act and played a handful of shows on each coast. going back into the studio to work on the next album felt different. making the first one hadn’t felt authentic. not the process, nor the result. he’d been too agreeable; too eager to please and too eager to show he was worth everyone’s time and money. this time around, he was more assertive and demanded more control over the creative process. less co-writers were brought in, and he now had a say in which producers he worked with. his sophomore album released to generally positive reviews and ratings, but it seemed that would be it. then, almost over night, his shit was doing numbers. big numbers. 

sure - his label was running some promo for his sophomore album, but it seemed most people were catching wind of his stuff by word of mouth. people were actually buying his albums. both of them. when tickets to his second headline tour went on sale, they sold out in days. dates were added and venues were upgraded to answer the growing demand for tickets as more and more people found his music. he was playing famous venues now; legendary venues. festivals with hundreds of thousands of attendees. all over the country. all over the world. if he didn’t have a microphone or a guitar in his hand, he had a beer. or vodka. maybe whiskey. sometimes a joint, sometimes pills. he was at parties, then he was hosting parties. then he was at parties hosted in his honor. for the first time in his life, he had money. hard, real, fuck you money. he paid off the student loan he’d racked up during his one year stint at nyu, and the mortgage on the apartment he’d grown up in. he bought a house in beverly hills, and a two story apartment in brooklyn - both of which had shelves custom made for the gilded statuettes and trophies declaring him to be the best in a slew of categories. he’d done it. he was twenty-six and on top of the world. invincible. and then his mom's heart gave out.

for the three years that followed, his career suffered as he partied harder. friends he’d known for years disappeared, and were replaced with new faces that all blurred together. there were scandals, but they too were all a blur - leaked pictures and videos; shows he decided last minute he didn’t wanna do; shows he couldn’t do because he showed up too far gone to stand upright. people who got too close to him on one of the bad days, who’s faces he scarred forever. arrests, and settlements made outside of court. the label was getting antsy too, and when it passed the two year mark of the last time he’d set foot in the studio, his team - headed by the same manager that been with him through it all; that’d seen potential and believed in him all those years ago - pleaded with him to get help. begrudgingly, fletcher agreed. after a few months at rehab, he returned - clean, and determined to get back to work. the process was longwinded and intense, but the finished product was, in his eyes, solid gold. and - luckily? surprisingly? - the world at large agreed.

he toured the album with dates booked at relatively smaller venues this time around, but everywhere was packed full to the brim with people. throughout the time working on the album he’d been doing okay; staying sober and surrounding himself with good intentioned people. but being back on the road took a toll on him he hadn’t expected, and it didn’t take long for him to turn to alcohol when it was so easily accessible all around him, at all times. still, things were fine, and he was even relearning to appreciate the electric energy of performing live in front of an audience. to celebrate the last show of the us leg of the tour, the label threw an afterparty for the band, the team, the crew, and their friends. as people were starting to leaving the venue, fletcher sent some members of his band and a couple of their friends ahead with a key to his suite at a hotel nearby, while he thanked the label executives that’d been at the show. when he showed up, a glass was shoved into his hand, and as the party picked back up, someone got out the pills they’d kept at the bottom of their pocket all night. when offered, fletcher - on top of the world once more - accepted. 

someone snitched. and to the media, no less. when confronted by his team, he denied it. after being open about his struggle to overcome addiction, something like this would be damning for the reputation he’d rebuilt over the last two years. which is why he lied through his teeth. but then the videos from the suite appeared online, and his ruse was up. the rest of the tour was cancelled, and after completing a thirty day program, he was back in brooklyn.

it took some convincing, but he eventually went along with the ‘find back to your roots by returning to where it all started’ plan his team had cooked up. he also agreed to let someone else run his social media accounts for the time being. how his manager had gotten him a job at championship, fletcher didn’t know. he suspected a monthly bribe the size of his paycheck and then some was involved. but then again, he’d never known james namsen to be that kind of guy. for the first few weeks, he showed up for his shifts - sometimes on time, sometimes not - kept his head down, tried to engage with as few customers and co-workers as possible, then ditched as soon as he was off the clock. but there’d always been something special about the record store on the corner of bedford and sterling. soon enough, he began occasionally going up to the rooftop once his shift was over. approaching customers to offer his service before they approached him. show up early to catch up with whoever was working the shift before him. if he was having a particularly good day, he’d stop by to hang around even if he wasn’t on the schedule. he was well aware he wasn’t always easy to be around - years of living the high life and putting up walls having made him cynical, and standoffish, and discourteous. even if the boy he’d been when he walked out of there years ago was long gone, championship vinyl had stayed the same. and though fletcher’s yet to admit it, being back felt like being home. 

[tiesandtea]

The Famous Five - interview with Mat Osman about Coming Up, April 1997

By Kevin Courtney. The Irish Times, 19 April 1997. Archived here.

Suede are back on track with a new album, two new members and some perfect pop. Kevin Courtney talks to bassist Mat Osman about reinventing Suede

"We got back to the very simplest things about being in a band," says Mat. "For six months we played live pretty much every night, and got that kind of mental link where we're not just five musicians stuck in a room, you are a band, you feel like a band, you play like a band. And then we spent probably another four months just rehearsing every day, and not being particularly precious about it, playing new songs, playing old songs, playing other people's songs, and no one was watching us, and no one was writing about us, and it felt like being 16 again, you know what I mean, in a garage somewhere, just doing it for the love of it.”

Full article under the cut.

OK, so it wasn't the biggest comeback in the history of pop music - that distinction must go to the Meat Loafs and the Tina Turners of the world - but for a band which had been all but washed away in the tide of Britpop, Suede have made a pretty smart, stylish re-entry into the forefront of the 1990s pop scene.

Three years ago, Suede seemed destined for the scrapheap when guitarist and main music composer Bernard Butler suddenly quit the band on the eve of the release of their second album, Dog Man Star, leaving singer Brett Anderson, bassist Mat Osman and drummer Simon Gilbert with a near-masterpiece on their hands and a world tour on their appointments diary, not to mention a lot of bad vibes all round.

Butler had been the band's Johnny Marr figure, its musical genius, while Brett Anderson was seen as a mere fop, a flashy, egotistical frontman who liked to experiment with drugs and write lyrics about kinky sex. Popular opinion had it that Suede would simply cease to be, in much the same way that The Smiths were negated by the severed alliance between Morrissey and Johnny Marr.

To everyone's surprise, however, the remaining members of Suede announced that they were looking for a guitarist to replace Bernard Butler, and that they hoped to have their new recruit ready to go on the road ASAP. A tall order, even for an accomplished, mature musician, so imagine the complete gobsmacking shock when Suede revealed that their new wonder boy was an unknown 17-year-old named Richard Oakes, a classically-trained guitarist from Poole, Dorset, and a fan of the band.

Jaws dropped - the general consensus was that Suede were clutching at straws, and flimsy, teenage straws at that. Dog Man Star finally came out near the end of 1994, but it was soon eclipsed by the début album of an exciting new band which would grab our undivided attention for the next couple of years - Oasis.

Eighteen months later, just before Oasis were due to make their historic appearance at Knebworth, Suede released Trash, the first A-side co-written with Richard Oakes, and suddenly we had to bin all our preconceptions about this strange, unique band.

Trash was a glorious, glam-tinged celebration of low-life and highgloss, as immediate as Bowie's Rebel Rebel or Roxy Music's Street Life, and far classier than Blur's Country House. It went straight in at Number 3, proving that Suede had hit on a pop cocktail which tickled record-buyers' tastes.

Trash was three mascara-stained minutes of sheer sleaze - in other words, it was perfect pop. The Number One spot didn't deserve it. The band's third album, Coming Up, which followed soon after, featured 12 songs co-written by Brett Anderson and Richard Oakes, and it must have been feeling generous, because it went straight in at the top of the charts on the week of its release.

"It's weird, because I was very proud of it when we finished it, I thought it was a great record, but I had no idea how it was going to be received," says bassist Mat Osman. "When the first single came out, we really knew it was great, but at the same time our record company had a sweepstake on how high it would go in the charts, and some people were betting Number 5, and other people were betting as low as 25. We actually had no idea that it would tap into the public right away, so it was a cool thing."

You could forgive Suede for setting their expectations a little lower than usual - after all, they'd gone through a confidence-shattering bust-up which stopped them in mid-swagger and forced them to turn tail and retreat. With all the stories surrounding the split, not to mention the intense media interest in Brett's alleged drug habits, it must have distorted some perceptions about the music of Suede.

"Oh, yeah, when we were releasing the last album it was like a circus show, and one of the nice things about this new album, is that the first album was the 'Suede hype’ album, the second was the ‘Suede split’ album, and this one just happened to be ‘album’. I think it's the first time in the band's life that we've had reviews about the album itself, and not just a bunch of scare stories."

So did the image, the glamour and the drama, all the accessories which Suede liked to drape around their music, threaten to smother the band? "Totally," agrees Mat. "When the first album came out, there were probably more people who'd read about us and had an opinion about us than had heard a record by us. And it just got to a ridiculous stage, because when the second album came out, everyone I spoke to had an opinion about what we should do and where we had gone wrong - and most of them hadn't even heard the album. And if there's one reason I got into this was to make records. I have no interest in being a media star, or a kind of guru, so it was a very strange position to be in."

After the split with Butler, the band closed ranks. "We got back to the very simplest things about being in a band," says Mat. "For six months we played live pretty much every night, and got that kind of mental link where we're not just five musicians stuck in a room, you are a band, you feel like a band, you play like a band. And then we spent probably another four months just rehearsing every day, and not being particularly precious about it, playing new songs, playing old songs, playing other people's songs, and no one was watching us, and no one was writing about us, and it felt like being 16 again, you know what I mean, in a garage somewhere, just doing it for the love of it. And I think it was really good for us, I think it's the reason the record sounds like it does. I mean, when Richard joined, he was writing immediately, and he could play anything, so we could have just gone and recorded an album straight away just to keep our faces out there. But we wanted to kind of get back to basics, I guess, and start again as a band."

Notice that Mat says five musicians together in a room - surprise number two was sprung when the band announced the addition of a fifth member, keyboard player Neil Codling, cousin of drummer Simon Gilbert. "It was very strange, because we kind of unveiled him at a fan club gig, we kind of just pulled the sheet off him and didn't tell anyone about it. I think the fans love him."

Love him? They absolutely worship him, so much so that there now exists a bona fide "cult of Neil".

"The only thing that's a bit of a shame about that is that there's a lot of stuff written about Neil and said about Neil, and they forget that he's a f---ing great musician. You know, he wrote two songs on the album straight off the bat, having just joined the band. He can play anything, you know, he played a bit of guitar on the album, he played keyboards, he sang - he's an all-rounder."

So now Suede are five, a true gang in a very Enid Blyton sense. "We tend to be pretty tight together. Which you have to be, because you rely on each other a lot, you know, there's a lot of people who are part of the music scene, and hang out with other musicians and all that stuff, and if you don't have that, you've got to be pretty tight in yourselves, to keep your standards up."

Suede play an outdoor gig in the Courtyard in Dublin Castle on Sunday May 4th as part of the Heineken Green Energy Festival. Support is provided by Welsh band Catatonia and Dublin glam-punks The Ultra Montanes.

[sagehaleyofficial]

HERE’S WHAT YOU MISSED THIS WEEK (12.18-12.24.19):

NEW MUSIC:

·         Machine Gun Kelly delivered on his promise and dropped a new track before the end of the year called “Why Are You Here”. The track definitely continues into a more rock and roll sound, which he’s shown off in the past between hip-hop and alternative influences.

·         Jeffree Star recently stated that all the things are in place for 2020 to be a musical year. In a recent interview with Trisha Paytas’ on her The Dish with Trish podcast, Star revealed his plans for new music.

·         Simple Plan, State Champs and We the Kings dropped a new music video for their collaboration of “Where I Belong.” The track for the video was originally released before the trio went on tour together earlier this year.

TOUR ANNOUNCEMENTS:

·         Falling in Reverse’s debut record The Drug in Me is You recently became certified Gold. In celebration, the band announced they are taking Escape the Fate and The Word Alive on “The Drug in Me Is Gold Tour,” kicking off February 8th in San Antonio.

·         All Time Low performed “Hello, Brooklyn” and “Walls” for the very first time ever live at the Fonda Theater in Los Angeles last Monday. The band is currently in the midst of their sold-out Nothing Personal anniversary shows.

·         Post Malone will be closing out the decade and year by headlining Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve with Ryan Seacrest 2020 in Times Square. Malone will be performing alongside Sam Hunt, Alanis Morissette and K-pop sensations, BTS.

·         Limp Bizkit, Weezer and Blink-182 will headline the third annual Inkcarceration Music and Tattoo Festival. The festival celebrating decibels and body art returns to the grounds of the famous Ohio State Reformatory in Mansfield, Ohio, from July 10th to 12th, 2020.

·         Sleep On It announced a new tour for 2020, “The Pride and Disastour,” which will begin at the end of February and run through March. The run is in support of their most recent album, Pride and Disaster, which dropped in September.

·         Have Mercy announced their final tour, kicking off in early February and running through mid-March. Selfish Things, Fredo Disco and Young Culture were revealed to be tagging along in support.

·         Talinda Bennington, the wife of late Linkin Park vocalist Chester Bennington, revealed the 320 Festival, which was created to bring awareness to mental health. The festival will include a mental health summit, community festival and benefit concert.

·         Reel Big Fish announced they are kicking off 2020 with their first tour announcement, “Life Sucks…Let’s Dance.” They’ll be joined by Big D and the Kids Table and Keep Flying, and will be heading out beginning February 26th in Savannah, GA.

·         Saosin were set to take the stage last Thursday for the first of two sold out shows at Garden Grove Amphitheatre in Garden Grove, CA. However, with hours until the show, the band took to social media to reveal they’d have to reschedule due to illness.

·         At the historic My Chemical Romance return show in Los Angeles last Friday, openers Thursday pulled Saves the Day frontman Chris Conley onstage for MCR bassist Mikey Way’s favorite song. The band performed a cover of the Buzzcocks track “Ever Fallen in Love.”

·         As fans donned their black eyeliner and My Chemical Romance attire at their reunion show, the band performed track after track of classic and timeless songs from throughout their discography. The setlist contained several deep cuts as well.

·         Halsey was announced to return to Saturday Night Live for the third time on January 25th. She is the musical guest and will attend alongside host Adam Driver, who recently starred in the film Marriage Story.

OTHER NEWS:

·         Pokémon and Adidas are teaming up and even though the collaboration has no release date yet, the first images of the Pikachu Adidas Advantage are here. Earlier in the year, leaked images showed more elaborate Pikachu and Squirtle shoes, but there has since been no additional information.

·         Yellowcard reportedly resumed their lawsuit against late emo rapper Juice WRLD for alleged copyright infringement. The band pushed back the response date for the rapper’s co-defendants Taz Taylor, Nick Mira and the two labels he is signed to.

·         Jackass announced it is coming back, as Paramount Pictures revealed on December 18th that it is expected to hit the big screens again in March 2021. This will be the fourth film in the series, in addition to three seasons of the television show.

·         Late Linkin Park musician Chester Bennington‘s ex-wife was decided to receive 50% of his Linkin Park royalties. Samantha Olit filed a claim in 2017, and was married to Bennington from 1995 until 2006.

·         Fender ended their recent Instagram story with some shots of the instruments from My Chemical Romance’s return show, saying “Look out for these on the @mychemicalromance tour starting tomorrow in Los Angeles.” Guitarist Frank Iero later shared on his own story.

·         Sleeping With Sirens’ Kellin Quinn hopped on one of the latest viral trends by utilizing TikTok to spotlight a classic track. Filmed from inside either his or someone else’s home, Quinn shared some filtered jump cuts set to the SWS track “Low.”

·         Horror metalcore icons Ice Nine Kills dropped their festive track “Merry Axe-Mas” last holiday season. Now, the band are giving fans a new Christmas present in 2019 with a video game inspired by the song.

·         Billie Eilish finally filmed an episode of the hit show Carpool Karaoke with James Corden, starting off with “Bad Guy.” Throughout the episode, she discusses meeting Justin Bieber and when she began writing music, among other things.

·         New Found Glory guitarist/vocalist Chad Gilbert took to social media Saturday to announce his engagement with musician Lisa Cimorelli. Gilbert reflected on the whirlwind of 2019 before ending saying he’s “standing on top of a fricken mountain.”

·         After a Denny’s show with a raucous mosh pit for the hardcore band WACKO occurred last week and took the internet by storm, Green Day just covered all the costs. They even left a heartfelt message to Bryson Del Valle, who organized the event, on GoFundMe.

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Check in next Tuesday for more “Posi Talk with Sage Haley,” only at @sagehaleyofficial!