Who knew vampires and indie rock could go so well together? Following in the footsteps of Twilight, the hit CW show Vampire Diaries has racked up a solid batch of tunes for its first soundtrack, which includes exclusive tracks from Smashing Pumpkins (yep, Billy's still truckin' along), Gorillaz (a remix of Plastic Beach's "On Melancholy Hill"), Goldfrapp, Silversun Pickups, A Fine Frenzy and more. Also included is a remix of Bat For Lashes' "Sleep Alone" and Placebo's haunting cover of Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill." — Stephanie Benson
Still stark, startling and funny LP debut from The Cramps was the template for all of their following work - garage-soaked rockabilly, horror stories straight out of EC Comics and the kind of leather-jacketed nonchalance and acne-scarred bad attitude that once thrived in juvenile delinquence movies. If this included the early single "Human Fly" it could stand up as definitive. This was produced by Alex Chilton of Box Tops and Big Star fame. — Nick Dedina
What's with these homies dissin' Weezer? It seems with each new album, the band finds itself dodging an increasing amount of disdain from critics and once-fans alike. Most notably, there was the recent campaign to raise $10 million to break up the band. The good men of Weezer keep on truckin', though; if they can nonchalantly put a half-baked photo of "Hurley" on an album cover, title an album Raditude and another Death to False Metal, and start a line of Snuggies, then it's clear they have some ability to laugh at themselves. (Drummer Pat Wilson responded to the campaign on Twitter with: "If they can make it 20, we'll do the 'deluxe breakup'!") Ultimately the people with all the built-up scorn toward this dorky little band-that-could are the same diffident adolescents who hailed Weezer's 1994 debut album as their little blue bible for teenage survival.
Since the members of Weezer are no dummies (and since they probably want to sell more tickets), they've taken the woes of disenchanted fans to heart by launching the Memories Tour. In cities across America, WOGs (Weezer OGs) can drop a precious penny or two to be transported back to the '90s and hear the band play The Blue Album, as well as its just-as-beloved follow-up, Pinkerton.
So to honor this most excellent decision on Weezer's part, we've decided to dig into The Blue Album, spotlight the album's influences and dissect all of its juicy goodness, its dorky awkwardness, its punky catchiness, and its perfect representation of 1994, when grunge was quickly dying and geeks, dweebs and losers (also see: Beck's "Loser") were starting to break on through to the other side of coolness. Weezer transformed the very un-rocking topics of Dungeons & Dragons, unrequited love, and life in the 'burbs into some of the most rocking songs of the decade. In the process, they not only influenced just about every band you hear on pop radio today, they also gave hope to all of us nerdy folk. God bless 'em.
LCD Soundsystem's This Is Happening will doubtless land toward the top of many of this year's best-of lists, but there's another DFA album that's just as deserving — or at least, it would be if it weren't a collection of material recorded in the late '70s and early '80s.
The record in question is Peter Gordon's Love of Life Orchestra. Gordon, still active today in new music circles, was a fixture on the downtown scene in the late '70s, a collaborator of Arthur Russell and Rhys Chatham who was equally at home in the concert hall and the dance club. Formally and emotionally, the album's nine tracks are a revelation, a powerful reminder of an era when categories like "pop," "disco" and "composition" danced in glorious flux.
Dig deeper into disco at its most ambitious with these classic albums and enlightening compilations.
Confused by the movie Lost Highway? Try this soundtrack album, which clues you into the fact that maybe the metaphyiscal horror film is all about mood. Nine Inch Nails' Trent Reznor produced the new songs, Angelo Badalamenti composed the dark score, and David Lynch picked tracks such as Antonio Carlos Jobim's "Insensatez." Reznor and Badalamenti merge this freaky hodgepodge together into a very satisfying whole. It's an aural voyage of the damned -- even for Goths or those who still dress like extras from Blade. — Nick Dedina
On the Record is a video series where rock stars gush about their favorite records -- in exactly 45 seconds. Click above to watch Neil Finn of Crowded House talk about his favorite album of all time.
A major success, the Banshees return to the harder-edged sound of their first two LPs while retaining the dreamy atmosphere from Kaleidoscope, further upping the bleak, drug-addled nightmare imagery and claustrophobic feel. Post-punk and goth rock in a nutshell: "Spellbound" and "Arabian Knights" turn into the fetishistic violence of "Night Shift" and "Head Cut." — Nick Dedina
From the group who practically invented trip-hop, this highly anticipated third LP Mezzanine follows Massive Attack's crowd-pleasing method of laying down introspective rhymes over blunted beats and dub electronics. As on Protection, the most outstanding track features a special guest. This time it's "Teardrop," with Elizabeth Fraser of the Cocteau Twins. — Melissa Piazza
Defining "girl groups" as a genre or style of music is a deceptively complicated task. At its most basic, of course, the girl-group sound is the music that's produced/performed/created by a gathering of more than two women. Except it isn't always: during the classic girl-group era of the 1950s and 1960s, solo artists like Lil Eva, Dusty Springfield, Mary Wells and Darlene Love were frequently included under the umbrella (pink, of course) of the girl-group sound. Conversely, not every performing group of girls is a Girl Group, of course.
OK, so then perhaps the crux of the girl-group sound lies in its sound. And certainly, the classic girl groups shared some stylistic characteristics: sweetly purred vocals, sweater-set tight harmonies, sock-hop beats and/or prom-ready slow songs. But musically, there was a good deal of genre variation, from the rock 'n' roll leanings of rebel girls like The Ronettes to the hook-laden teen hits of the Brill Building to the polished sheen of Motown. And of course, even those common aesthetic traits were steeped in the efforts of earlier "girl groups," like The Andrews Sisters' vocal jazz stylings. What's more, their influence is apparent in the work of female acts hailing from a host of other genres. A clear trajectory can be traced from the Shangri-Las, the Chantels and the Supremes to Salt-n-Pepa, Destiny's Child and the Dixie Chicks.
The girl-group genre, then, cannot be defined simply by sound or group size — or era, for that matter. Other characteristics (costumes, choreography, swooning, boy craziness, girl talk) come into and out of play in various eras and iterations. To some degree, however, one of the defining characteristic of the girl-group genre is its ambiguity, its apparent simplicity that ultimately reveals itself to be much more multilayered and complex than it first seemed. In almost every period in which they have been popular, for instance, girl groups have been at least initially written off as inconsequential, prefab fluff acts concerned only with silly, girlish things like romance, heartbreak and boys, boys, boys. And while those topics are indeed pretty predominant, what's so compelling about girl groups is that they give weight and attention and space to these allegedly inconsequential things, to the desires and concerns of girls. One of the most powerful things girl groups do is to give women a voice — and a medium through which they might be heard, no matter what they're talking about.
That multiple-and-yet-singular voice is another defining characteristic of girl groups. Three or four women coming together and presenting a front that is somehow unified (be it harmonically, lyrically, sartorially or choreographically) offers female (and, really, all) listeners a point of identification and a representation of femininity that is at once strong and multivalent. There's strength in numbers, in other words, but also individuality.
Ladies and gentlemen, may we introduce you to the new, improved, grown-upTaylor Swift. The country ingenue's third album, Speak Now, is steeped in references to maturity — and more specifically, country maturity. Which doesn't necessarily mean she isn't writing songs about being a kid: it just means that instead of making herself the protagonist of a teen angst narrative, she takes on the role of a disillusioned, slightly older big sister who advises from a distance about not taking mom and pop for granted and the struggle of making it in the big, bad world ("Never Grow Up").
Same goes for her fixation on romantic struggle (seriously, who did this girl so wrong?! Was it that werewolf kid?): the focus hasn't changed so much as the perspective and the tone. The love songs are darker and more tortured (see the Evanescene-lite of "Haunted"), but the heartbreak is also more balanced (see "Dear John," featuring Swift as jilter, albeit a sorrowful one). Most significantly, Swift portrays herself as a stronger character this time around. This Taylor Swift doesn't just sit on the bleachers while her guy goes after the girl in the short skirts. She trash-talks her rival and even stops the wedding on the title track, essentially a "Love Story" sequel.
The end of summer and beginning of fall could be described as "waiting for Kanye." His heavily promoted My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy got pushed back to November, while Nicki Minaj, Young Jeezy and Kid Cudi scheduled their albums for the same month, ensuring that 2010 will end with a bang. However, quite a few strong albums made it to market, from Gucci Mane's The Appeal: Georgia's Most Wanted to surprises like Atmosphere's To All My Friends, Blood Makes the Blade Holy and Skyzoo and Illmind's Live from the Tape Deck.
Here's a roundup of a few of the most noteworthy. Rest in peace, Michael "Eyedea" Larsen.
Atmosphere To All My Friends, Blood Makes the Blade Holy
Slug may never get recognized as one of hip-hop's greatest storytellers, but he deserves to be. The Minneapolis rapper excels at the confessional, rhyming first-person narratives that are so vivid you think they were ripped straight from his diary. On To All My Friends, Blood Makes The Blade Holy, a pair of EPs packaged into a mini-album, Slug raps about vehicular homicide ("Scalp"), young love ("The Number None"), and drug-dealing homeboys ("The Major Leagues") as a backing band plays extended riffs and beery blues. It's not Lil Wayne, but it will more than do.
John Carpenter has made brilliant, genre-defining horror films (Halloween), street smart tips of the hats to Hollywood's golden age (Assault on Precinct 13) and fun cult sleaze (Escape from New York). He's also directed a slew of real stinkers over the years; but Carpenter remains one of the few film directors who often helps out on his film scores (usually collaborating with Alan Howarth) and you can't say the music in his films sounds like anybody else's. — Nick Dedina
Taylor Swift may be America's Sweetheart, but her music's anything but candy-coated. From the poise with which she dissects the past two years of romantic encounters (including John Mayer) to the confident-yet-vulnerable songwriting present throughout, the self-written Speak Now speaks to Swift's maturity as an artist, musician, and generational voice. Listen to Swift's new album, and enjoy Rhapsody's exclusive material such as The Box vs. Taylor Swift, a playlist of her greatest duets and more.
Discover the ingredients that made Taylor Swift a superstar.
Hear Taylor duet with today's biggest pop and country superstars.
Read Rhapsody's extended review of Speak Now.
Listen to Taylor's entire discography on Rhapsody.
Watch Taylor Swift answer fan questions in this exclusive video interview.
From Taylor to Sugarland, listen to all of today's biggest jams on our Country Hits station.
Fellow Rhapsody scribe Chuck Eddy recently charted the roots of shock/horror rock. My aim is to pick up where he left off — with Alice Cooper in the 1970s — and deliver the genre to the 21st century.
After Cooper's transformation into a pop icon, right around 1972 or '73, somewhere between the release of the albums School's Out and Billion Dollar Babies, shock rock became deeply intertwined with heavy metal. Though punk bands like The Plasmatics, The Sex Pistols and The Misfits employed shock-like tactics in both their stage performances and headline-grabbing media shenanigans, it was bands such as KISS, and in the 1980s Venom, King Diamond/Mercyful Fate and W.A.S.P., that truly embodied the genre's core aesthetic: overblown theatrical absurdity. Venom in particular played a vital role. By filtering this theatricality through Satanic imagery and a sonic assault that made Judas Priest and Iron Maiden sound like Judy Garland and Bing Crosby, respectively, the gnarly British trio laid the groundwork for black metal, one of two genres to help carry shock rock into our current era. The other is industrial. Closely tied to metal since the late 1980s, industrial and its obsession with dystopian nightmares, genocide and such modern-day bogeymen as serial killers and dictators offered shock rockers like the Alice Cooper-inspired White Zombie, Marilyn Manson and, of course, the infamous GWAR a whole new spectrum of themes to explore when attempting to freak out pop audiences.
Sonically speaking, modern shock rockers like GWAR and black-metal weirdos Immortal have very little in common with creepy ancestors such as rhythm-and-blues legend Screamin' Jay Hawkins, who would rise from a coffin during performances in the mid-1950s. Yet there can be no doubt that all these artists are united in their love of producing twisted theater.
To taste a healthy sampling of modern shock rock, check out the expanded playlist here.
Following are 10 albums that encapsulate shock/horror rock's creepy evolution from the 1970s to now. Explore them at your own peril ...
Sometimes it's hard to remember, on a typical Tuesday night, that Taylor Swift puts her pants on one leg at a time, just like the rest of us — on those ultra-rare occasions when she's not wearing a frilly and fabulous dress instead, that is. At any rate, the point is that, in the 21st-century pop realm, she's not a mere mortal anymore; she's absolutely in her own category, on her own plane, with no viable competition within eye or earshot, and not just because she's the biggest-selling digital artist of all time and has dominated everybody else on the charts for the past couple years. It has more to do with how, this late in the purportedly post-post-post-modern pop game, she still somehow manages to make pop music that works as pop music instead of as music about music. Which probably isn't what anybody expected at first, given that her first hit was called "Tim McGraw" and all.
You gave us your questions. We put them in a box. Watch Taylor Swift on desert island necessities, living alone and building Popsicle stick houses. Be sure to listen to her new album Speak Now on Rhapsody.
Sabbath's first record without Ozzy surprised everybody. New singer, ex-Elf and Rainbow frontman Ronnie James Dio raised the bar for metal vocalists, while Tony Iommi delivered nastier guitar riffs than he had in years. The result is one of the group's best all-round efforts, marked by the bad-ass title track and the positively scarifying "Die Young." — Mike McGuirk
Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard collaborate on this grand, unusually moody score to Christopher Nolan's second masterful revision of the Batman franchise. Whether Zimmer and Howard worked together or on separate pieces, this truly is a unified whole (orchestral helicopter noises flit in and out of many pieces), and the nine-minute opener, "Why So Serious?," is a real stunner. The "Dark Knight" theme is almost as strong and "Watch the World Burn" is an embered beauty -- gee, haven't popcorn pictures gotten cheery lately? — Nick Dedina
This CD accompaniment to the DVD of the same name may not feature the beheadings, spurting blood and general overload of gore that make up the visual aspect of the legendary rocker's stage show, but you do get more than 25 tracks. The album works as a best-of collection with "Welcome to My Nightmare," "Is It My Body," "Only Women Bleed" and, of course, all the hits even the uninitiated will recognize. Theatre of Death, recorded at the Hammersmith Apollo in London in 2009, showcases a perfect sound and surprisingly strong vocals from the old dude. — Mike McGuirk
One of the key jazz albums of the 1970s, Sugar was a surprise bestseller, showcasing a mainstream modern bop sound that avoided overt funk or rock fusion while still appealing to the younger generation. Saxophonist Stanley Turrentine (he of the creamy tenor tone) is joined by a startling roster of younger jazz players, including CTI Records stalwarts George Benson (guitar), Ron Carter (bass) and Freddie Hubbard (trumpet). Speaking of CTI, the savvy label even turned the album sleeve, a favorite of legions of foot fetishists and bon vivants, into a popular wall poster! — Nick Dedina
Halloween is only one day out of the year, but people listen to bewitching songs and monstrous tunes all October long on Rhapsody. We decided to compile some of the season's most popular tunes — not the scariest ones or those that contain the most carnage, but those that spike on Rhapsody in October and, we assume, get played at Halloween parties across the land.
Listen to all these spooky songs and more on Rhapsody's Classic Halloween Party playlist here.
Stevie Wonder: "Superstition"
It would be a real horror not to start the list with Stevie Wonder. First off, this song will get any party started (unless it's a tea party). Second, since this number gets played all year long, it sometimes gets overlooked at soulless Halloween parties. Wonder drops a litany of Halloween set-pieces — "Very superstitious/ The devil's on his way/ Thirteen-month-old baby/ Broke the looking glass" — before admonishing the listener to forget about superstitions and enjoy real life. Stevie, relax and let them pretend for just one night!
Released a few months after Kurt Cobain's death in 1994, this record served as a sort of kick in the teeth to anyone who might have doubted Nirvana's strength as musicians. Stripped-down covers of well-chosen songs are aligned with desolate takes on their own material -- the result is stunning. — Jon Pruett
Early prediction: Come Around Sundown will be remembered as the album when Kings of Leon went full-blown pop stardom. In other words, it's going down as their "sellout" record, a collection of songs tailor-made for heavy rotation on your local modern-rock station.
Setting all that aside for a moment, the band's transformation over the last two to three albums has been pretty sweeping. K.o.L. have made the transformation from retro-garage dudes to neo-indie moodiness. In a lot of ways, the new sound is a far better fit. Kings of Leon, in all honesty, were never terribly convincing as scrappy hard-rockers. They were always too mannered, too concerned with nailing all the right hooks.
New sounds mean new influences, of course. Had I sat down to write a piece about K.o.L.'s influences five or six years ago, around the time the band dropped Aha Shake Heartbreak, then names like The Strokes and The Vines and The White Stripes would be popping up all over the place. But as you're about to find out, those groups are conspicuously absent this time around.
U2 The Joshua Tree
Is there anything left to say about this canonic release? Whether you think it's one of rock's all-time masterpieces or a chunk of bloated pretension, there's no denying the album's massive impact on pop music. Break down the "source material" for just about any modern-rock album released in the last decade and U2's name will probably come up in the discussion. Funny thing: first time I listened to Come Around Sundown all the way through, my wife — who has no idea who the Kings of Leon even are — walked into my office, flashed me a quizzical look and asked, "Why are you listening to U2?"
Ohio Players Fire
Emboldened by the crossover success of 1974's "Jive Turkey," The Ohio Players followed through with their most commercially successful and artistically sophisticated release. The title track and "Running from the Devil" are classic slabs of loose and easy 70s funk, while the spring-heeled soul of "Together" shows that the group can work within tighter pop paradigms. — Sam Chennault
Barry White Can't Get Enough
Barry White took a page out of Issac Hayes' book and made the transition from being an ace arranger and studio musician into a deep-throated solo star. This was White's first No.1 pop smash and featured such chart-topping singles as "You're The First, The Last, The Everything," and "Can't Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe." White's marriage of sweeping faux cinematic strings, dance-floor (and bedroom) grooves and his should-be-cheesy but is just incredibly cool vocal style all come together for an effort that is supremely joy inducing. — Nick Dedina
A Motown-backed family group who racked up a string of hits in the early 1980s, DeBarge released five quality albums during their heyday. Masters of synth-laced balladry, their tunes are characterized by soaring vocals, mellow beats and smooth keyboard flourishes. This compilation includes all of their signature jams, such as "Rhythm Of The Night" and "All This Love." — Brolin Winning
Even on a good day, rock is a strange and scary beast. Hotel rooms are trashed; drugs ingested; bizarre sexual acts perpetrated; egos massaged; guyliner applied; and so on and so forth. So, in terms of scary stories, five decades of debauchery, excess and generally abnormal and unacceptable behavior have set the bar pretty high for rock 'n' roll.
Fortunately, rock does not disappoint. In the tomes of its hallowed history, there are dark masses and blood orgies; Norwegian death-metal cults and their church-torching cohorts; incessant back-masked devotions to a certain Dark Lord and a long list of legends held in the throes of occultists, mass murderers and witches. For this Halloween, we've gathered some of our favorite stories of the macabre. Sit back, light a candle, cast a protective spell if need be — and enjoy these macabre tales of rock 'n' roll horror.
The South has always known how to rock, giving birth to music pioneers like Buddy Holly and Elvis in the 1950s. A couple of decades later, the South put its mark on the rock genre in a brand new way. Southern rock can trace its kudzu-covered roots back to the '70s, when the rebelliousness of rock 'n' roll rubbed up against country, blues and even gospel to create a sound that was slower and thicker than its northern cousin. Bible Belt states like Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, Georgia and the Carolinas found their own niche and served up Southern-fried rock through good ol' boys like Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Allman Brothers.
Two decades later, church youth groups were full of kids with guitars who wanted to emulate their Southern brothers without losing their souls. So they ditched the rebellion, but kept the rock sound, penning lyrics that were faithful to their Southern surroundings and their savior.
Here are a few impressions of the latest hip-hop hits.
Kanye West: "Runaway" Charms: When West premiered "Runaway" during his closing performance at the 2010 MTV VMAs, he immediately lodged its chorus into audiences' memories: "Let's have a toast for the douchebags!" It sounds like a continuation of 808s & Heartbreak, with West appealing to our sympathy by exposing his frailties. Meanwhile, Pusha T from Clipse sums up the Jersey Shore generation with the line, "I'm just young, rich and tasteless." Turnoffs: "Runaway" is so visceral that it's sloppy. However, the choppy MPC improvisations from West's VMA performance aren't on this version. Instead, we get heavy keyboard tones that are meant to signify emotion, yet come off as overwrought. Verdict: With "Runaway," Kanye West proves yet again that he may be the most beguiling and infuriating figure in popular music.
Alice Cooper gets credit for putting shock-horror into rock, and there's no question he perfected the idea — especially as his music got cheesier and more theatrical, starting with Welcome to My Nightmare in 1975. But the truth is, creepy-crawly spooky-ooky stuff had been a part of rock all along, which comes as no surprise given that the exact same teens who loved rock 'n' roll in the '50s had been buying comic books full of ghouls, graveyards and greasy grimy gopher guts (until the Comics Code killed that concept in 1954), and '50s drive-ins were loaded with body-snatcher and mummy exploitation flicks. So it was only natural that somebody like Screamin' Jay Hawkins would come along, once so many radio stations banned his moaned-and-groaned drunk-in-the-studio 1956 recording of "I Put a Spell on You" for alleged cannibal tendencies, and start rising from a coffin in concert while brandishing a skull. Rockabilly crazies, meanwhile, yelped about zombies (Billy Taylor), bones (Ronnie Dawson), vampire women (future country star Bobby Bare) and hanging dates' chopped-off heads on the wall to prevent hot-dog consumption (Hasil Adkins). And then two big hits in 1958, and one in 1962, made horror rock safe for the wee ones.
If ever there were a rock 'n' roll holiday, it's Halloween. Ghosts, ghouls, goblins, blood sports, sexy costumes and hard candy all take center stage. And while that sounds frightening to some, it's also all the ingredients for a great party. Get your own holiday started with our selection of music's greatest Halloween songs as well as a collection of some of the scariest songs ever made. If you dare, read the tales of debauchery and occultism in our "Rock's Scariest Stories" feature. Dig in, and don't forget to turn off the lights.
From "Monster Mash" to "Thriller," party down with these classic Halloween jams.
Blood orgies, mass murderers, ghosts and more of rock's scariest stories.
Get in the mood with this ghoulish collection of music's scariest songs.
True blood: From My Chemical Romance to Evanescence, the music that fuels the undead.
Check out our exclusive Halloween Radio.
The kids aren't alright — listen to this playlist of witch house and beyond.
Learn about the history of modern Shock Rock.
An extended playlist full of pre-shock rock classics.
Belle and Sebastian come back strong after a four-year break, with group leader Stuart Murdoch continuing to be one of the finest pop craftsmen of his generation. He pushes up the drums and keyboards to an even level with the guitars, balancing personal insight, dry wit and an eye for detail with an omnivorous love of music's past while wisely sidestepping popular '80s touchstones. As a bonus, Murdoch's deft melodicism makes his thin voice more flexible than it has any right to be. The impressive guest roster includes Norah Jones, actress Carey Mulligan and string and horn sections. — Nick Dedina
Monotonix don't believe in stages. Here they gather the crowd for their version of a fireside chat.
This past weekend San Franciscans bundled up for one of the hippest festival lineups of the year. Highlights included the freakishly fascinating Die Antwoord, who dumbfounded the crowd with their near nakedness and brash rhymes that fall somewhere between parody and profundity, and Monotonix, who forewent the stage to play on top of the crowd, at one point leading the masses in an a capella version of "A Hard Day's Night." Check out other highlights from the two-day fest below, including photos of The National, Belle & Sebastian, !!!, Little Dragon and more.
The oft-overlooked singer/songwriter/genius interpreter dropped this ace in 1971. Screaming along to "Jump Into the Fire" is about as much cathartic fun as a person can handle in one night and "Without You" is about as much operatic sentimentalism as a normal person should be able to handle in a lifetime. "Coconut" will be your child's favorite song forever. — Mike McGuirk
Since when is a band's ninth album their best? Yo La Tengo prove some bands actually get progressively better with this 1997 record. The record is like a compendium of the best parts of independent guitar pop. Not that it's scattershot either, the record flows wonderfully -- with "Moby Octopad" and the cover of "Little Honda" being highlights. — Jon Pruett
Henley's sophomore album, Building the Perfect Beast, is an acerbic look at life in Reagan-era America. In the midst of "me generation" excess, Henley delivers his biting, satirical message with a surprisingly gentle pop touch. Nearly two decades after its release, Building the Perfect Beast sounds as relevant as ever. — Linda Ryan
The phenomenon of this record in the early '90s was a definite "before and after" experience. Whether you felt that this album was the apex of alternative music or the beginning of the end, it's hard to deny the strength of these songs. Exceptional pop music, delivered by sludge-dishing punks with just enough polish on them to reinvent radio. — Jon Pruett
Grab your hacky sack and join Zac Brown Band on tour for a behind-the-scenes look at life on the road. Not to be missed: ZBB's visit to the Mystic Mansion, home of Elvis-aficionado Glynn A. Crooks, the Vice-Chairman of the SMSC Business Council of the Shakopee Mdewakanton Sioux in Minnesota (um...yeah).
Jars of Clay Presents the Shelter is a quiet, understated record that belies a big idea: community. It sounds simple enough, this concept that gets a lot of attention in Christian circles, but living it out on a daily basis is a whole other story. When you're dealing with real, flawed human beings it can get kind of tricky. Thankfully, Jars of Clay is on hand to provide a musical example and remind us that the end result is worth the trouble.
After years of locking themselves away to create, the band — which includes Dan Haseltine, Charlie Lowell, Stephen Mason and Matt Odmark — decided to invite more than a dozen friends into the recording process. And they weren't just there to serve as guest vocalists; the guys were looking for a truly collaborative effort on the lyrics, the music, everything.
Unfortunately, community is easier for artists to understand than it is for record execs. The album was originally intended to be even more collaborative, but Jars' label asked the band to reign in the original concept just a bit, making sure lead singer Haseltine appeared on each track. The end result is still a multilayered, multi-artist disc that shows how a whole can be even better than the sum of its (very talented) parts.
Now that chillwave is ebbing, there's a new fly-by-night micro-genre upon us. It's been called "witch house," for its occult iconography and its pilferings from electronic dance music; its artists are sometimes called "triangle bands" for their obsession with the shape, often including triangles, crosses and other charged (and Google-proofed) symbols in their very names: consider Lake R∆dio, Gr†LLGR†LL, or the inscrutable ///▲▲▲\\\. (The three-sided meme is hardly limited to witch house, however, as you'll see from this gallery of recent record sleeves from all corners of the electronic spectrum.)
Salem are by far the best known proponents of the style, thanks to their sensationalist media presence — in an interview with Butt magazine last year, member Jack Holland spoke openly of smoking crack and turning tricks — and their onstage nonpresence. Ben Ratliff described their infamous SXSW performance last year as "the kind of performance that you have seen only in your worst dreams"; on YouTube, at least, watching the band's bloodless antiperformance art is akin to rubbernecking a car crash, albeit in slow motion.
Make that very slow motion: glacial tempos are Salem's stock in trade. So much so, in fact, that they call their music "drag," conjuring deadweight friction. That influence comes largely from "chopped 'n' screwed" hip-hop, a style of pitched-down rap music pioneered by the late DJ Screw, whose sluggish tempos and slurred effects were meant to evoke the effects of cough syrup. Salem's music comes complete with its own woozy, narcotic raps. Instead of a traditional boom-bap backing, though, their productions lean on a bizarre amalgam of trance-inspired synthesizers and drum machines, Wagnerian choruses, and so much distortion that it might make even Sleigh Bells wince.
It's easy to write the whole thing off as one of blog culture's inside jokes — by hipsters, on hipsters — a suspicion that wasn't entirely allayed by the band's listless New York Times interview. Regardless, there's something weirdly compelling about King Night, the band's debut album, which came out last week. What might be most interesting is how they've managed to create a genuinely distinctive sound out of so many well-worn tropes. Here's a look at some of the band's antecedents and influences.
For more music in a similar vein — including Salem's peers Balam Acab, White Ring and oOoOO; spooky electronica from Burial and Fever Ray; and '80s creep-out music from Bauhaus, Swans and others — check out our Witch House and Beyond playlist.
A fan of classic rock? Then your music collection probably contains several titles released by Elektra Records, which is celebrating its 60th anniversary this year.
Founded in 1960 by Jac Holzman and Paul Rickholt, Elektra became a major player in the folk and blues revival. A maverick businessmen and unbelievably prescient talent scout, Holzman in the mid-1960s turned the label into a home for some of America's most adventurous (and volatile) underground artists, including The Doors, The Stooges, The MC5, Tim Buckley and Love. After merging with Warner Communications in 1970, Elektra grew into a massive hit-making machine, helping define both the singer-songwriter movement and arena rock in the process. After the rise of punk and New Wave, Elektra's fortunes rose and fell with the times; nevertheless, the imprint released vital records in both genres, as well as alternative rock and heavy metal.
Get caught up with new releases from indie darlings Belle and Sebastian, Sufjan Stevens, Antony and the Johnsons, Deerhunter and No Age. Also discover rising acts Benoit Pioulard, and Snow Patrol vocalist Gary Lightbody's new group Tired Pony, plus compilations celebrating vampires (not the Twilight ones) and Dr. Martens (it's about time, right?). Read our thoughts on each album and listen along on Rhapsody.
Alicia Keys is sailing through some serious storms on The Element of Freedom -- finding ways to feel more, love more, emote more, pitching into the depths, flying close to the sun, and then washing up, spent but still singing, on the shores of self-revelation. From the start, catharsis is the goal, and what feels overwrought at the outset becomes an admirable and affecting narrative as she weaves through songs that take on love (as life's goal) from all angles. Where does it end up? In New York, where reinvention, no matter what you've been through, is always possible. Bravo, Ms. Keys. — Sarah Bardeen
You gave us your questions. We put them in a box. Watch siblings Neil, Kimberly and Reid of The Band Perry on songwriting, life after "making it" and being mistaken for a mariachi band.
When Ski Beatz re-emerged this year as the main producer behind Curren$y's acclaimed Pilot Talk, people could scarcely believe it. Formerly known as Ski, he was one of the top producers of the mid-'90s. His smooth, elegantly constructed, '70s-inspired soul loops featured prominently on Jay-Z's first two albums (Ski also produced Jay-Z's first hit single, "In My Lifetime"), Lil' Kim's Hard Core and Camp Lo's Uptown Saturday Night. He then disappeared into the underground for several years before Damon Dash signed him to his new DD172 label.
The drone. It's a sustained note that hangs, while music happens (or doesn't happen) around it ... and when you start digging, you can find it everywhere: in Velvet Underground songs (John Cale's viola creates a drone throughout "Heroin") and Irish uilleann pipe music. Bulgarian folk singing and 20th-century minimalism. African American string-band music and doom metal. Indian classical music is built on the drone, as is much classical Middle Eastern music. In the 1960s, American musicians involved with the avant garde Theater of Eternal Music devoted themselves to exploring the drone's possibilities; way back in the tenth century, Japanese musicians used it to underpin their odd and angular court music.
There are also a ridiculous number of instruments that create the drone: The banjo's fifth string is the drone string, while the didgeridoo is all drone, all the time. Most stringed instruments have been used to make it. Some versions of bagpipes, one of the oldest drone instruments, are found all over Europe, from Ireland to Slovakia, and as far afield as Turkey. In India, the harmonium and tanpura are devoted solely to creating sustained notes that anchor qawaalis and ragas, but other instruments including the sarod and sitar can also create that aural haze.
Why does the drone show up in every corner of the earth? We can only theorize. A drone provides an open field of sound, in which the slightest variations in texture can feel enormous. In a world obsessed with time, the drone exists outside it; it elongates time, taking away temporal markers (beats) and leaving us with the musical equivalent of Mark Rothko paintings — one tonal color suffusing the air around you. Anything played on top of a drone is shaded by that constant tonal presence. There may be a spiritual component to it: In classical Indian music, a singer will open a raga by taking an extended improvisation (an alaap), first singing the drone and always returning to it, in a trajectory that supposedly signifies the soul's departure from its source and its eventual return. In my research, I also came across a theory that early drone music was meant to simulate the sound of bees, and was connected to mead (made from honey) and Dionysian rites.
Whatever its origins, we're fascinated by the drone's ubiquity in music, whether the setting is homespun folk, courtly classical music, or modern avant garde and metal excursions. We invite you to listen to a playlist of classic and surprising instances of drone. The set includes everything from French pop to the Stooges, and we supplement it with a bunch of albums that will help you understand just what that five-letter word means when it meets recorded music.
*This list is nowhere near comprehensive. It's meant only to get you thinking, and get you started. Please comment with your additions!
Going through the end of the Beatles to Wings to his early '80s hits, this is the best overview of Paul McCartney's solo output available. The first disc showcases 18 hit singles, while the second unearths key album tracks (why weren't "Maybe I'm Amazed" and "Tomorrow" released as singles?). This is expansive enough to illustrate Macca's abilities as a sonic innovator and restless rocker and his playful way with melody and harmony. While the brilliant but oppressive shadow of the Beatles often had solo McCartney half-trying, most of these tracks have not only survived the test of time, but have even improved with age. — Nick Dedina
The release of FaR*eAst Movement's Free Wired is notable for many reasons: The electro-hop crew's mainstream success after years of slogging away in the underground and local circuits. The coining of the word "slizzered." The popularization of ambiguous aviation metaphors. Perhaps most significant, however, is the fact that their major-label debut, containing the hit song "Like a G6," has made F.M. the first all-Asian American group to climb so high on the pop charts.
Asian artists have not historically fared well in American pop music -- or, perhaps more accurately, they have appeared not to fare at all. Try to name an Asian American pop star. If you're struggling, it's not because you haven't been paying attention -- but it's also not because Asian Americans haven't been involved in American pop music since such a thing came into existence. From the Asian big bands that traveled the jazz circuit in the early to mid-1900s to the world-renowned Filipino DJs in the 1990s turntablist movement, from old-school (but still kicking) R&B singer Sugar Pie DeSanto to behind-the-scenes movers and shakers like The Neptunes' Chad Hugo, from Jasmine Trias to Justin Bieber's all-Filipino backing band, Asian Americans have been active participants in pop music history. But that history, like race in America in general, has often been reduced to an almost exclusively black vs. white representation. In the last 10 years or so, Latino artists have begun to get some long overdue attention and chart success. But with a few notable exceptions (remember, for instance, Jin?), Asians have yet to receive the same.
Which is what makes Far*East Movement's success -- and this moment in general -- so exciting. Not only are the members of F.M. trailblazers, they are also not alone on the charts or the pop culture landscape right now. In this edition of single-phile, we review the rather impressive contributions Asian Americans have made to the hit-making universe lately.
The mythical emcee is usually an egoist, often claiming credit for constructing a song himself (even though "ghostwriters" and others contribute lyrics more often than the public realizes) and relegating the producer to the background (even though producers not only create the beat, but sometimes the arrangements and even the hooks) and engineers to the liner notes (even though engineers often play a crucial role in the sound and vibe of an album). It's no surprise that, as hip-hop has become big business, classic groups of the '80s and '90s like Run-DMC and A Tribe Called Quest have fallen by the wayside, allowing the solo rapper to claim all the glory for himself, and maybe share a little bit with his crew.
This may be why "supergroups" have become essential to encouraging cultural unity. After all, it's easier to knock out a one-off album rather than try and sustain a functioning and disciplined group. These one-off collaborations weren't unheard-of in the '80s, but it was in the '90s via acclaimed projects like the Gravediggaz' 6 Feet Deep that they really caught on. The Gravediggaz and Method Man & Redman are classic examples of one-off projects that evolved into actual groups; meanwhile, other meetings of minds -- like Black Star and Deep Puddle Dynamics -- seem like rare comets never to be repeated in our lifetime (save for concert appearances and tours). This list compiles a few of the best.
On the Record is a video series where rock stars gush about their favorite records -- in exactly 45 seconds. Click above to watch FaR*eAst Movement talk about their favorite album of all time.
Rhapsody subscribers can listen to Free Wired and millions of other albums whenever and however they want. Click here to sign up for a free Rhapsody trial subscription and see what we're all about.
Hair metal, if memory serves, wasn't particularly called "hair metal" much during most of its heyday. Even circa 1987-88, when mascara and eyeliner dominated MTV, if you'd picked up a rock magazine you likely would've seen "pop-metal," "glam-metal," "false-metal," "shag-metal" or "Nerf-metal" at least as often. In retrospect, of course, the genre didn't seem to have much to do with "metal" at all. Even early on, the '70s acts it took as inspiration -- New York Dolls, Aerosmith, KISS, Slade, Sweet, Bay City Rollers, Generation X -- leaned more toward "hard rock" or glitter, even bubblegum or punk.
L.A. is where the hair exploded, which makes sense because L.A. is where Van Halen had figured out how to present metal as concise upbeat radio-ready party pop in the late '70s. But L.A.'s not really where the best stuff came from -- even there, bands like Poison and singers like Axl Rose were hicks displaced from mid-America, and frequently, that's what they sang about. Or, say, about good-girls-gone-bad doing exactly the same thing: running away to the sleaze of Hollywood was hair metal's great subject. But hair metal was also the last commercially successful rock music to feel like a celebration, and no evidence yet suggests that distinction's going to change in our lifetime. Below, Rhapsody writers highlight 10 landmarks of the genre -- half of which, it should be noted, come from bands who started out in the middle Atlantic. Heck, one even came from Finland!
When did KT Tunstall get so ... fabulous? The Scottish singer-songwriter has always been a go-to girl for solid coffee-shop pop with a slight blues-rock edge to match her slightly gravely voice. But on album three she gets positively fierce, whether she's snarling her way through dirty, glammy disco ("Glamour Puss"), sauntering around alt-country ("Golden Frames") or spitting out some sneering, Runaways-esque rawk ("Madame Trudeaux"). And she's at her most terrifically rock 'n' roll when she's in the "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" wheelhouse, as on the salty, snapping "Come On, Get In." — Rachel Devitt
On the Record is a video series where rock stars gush about their favorite records -- in exactly 45 seconds. Click above to watch Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol and Tired Pony talk about his favorite album of all time.
His 22nd career project, produced by Bryan Lennox, finds Michael W. Smith returning to the kind of story-based pop ballads that made his career. "I'll Wait for You" is a raw, real take on the desperation and uncertainty so many people feel on a daily basis, while "Welcome Home" is a musical memorial to those who've left us, often seemingly too soon. The heaviness of "Leave," inspired by the touchy topics of abuse and bullying, is balanced by a pair of love songs written for Smith's wife of 29 years. The hurt we feel is real, Smith acknowledges, but it doesn't overshadow the hope found in God. — Wendy Lee Nentwig
One of the most important and influential records of the 1980s. The sleaze rock menace that was GNR's specialty had gone the way of the dinosaur until Appetite came out and the band flattened America like a steamroller. Years later, the album still rocks harder than anything else on the radio. — Mike McGuirk
Grab your flippie floppies and join Zac Brown Band for a behind the scenes look at their recent Sailing Southern Ground cruise that set sail from Tampa to Grand Cayman on Labor Day weekend.
The monsters: Jim James, M. Ward, Conor Oberst, producer Mike Mogis. The folk: indie rock's retro-adorin' interpretation of it, meaning a few dashes of twang here, a mandolin there and even a nod to Johnny Cash ("Man Named Truth"). Each member can harmonize and pick a six-string with the best of them, so they're going to get CSNY and Traveling Wilburys comparisons, but it's about time a new generation got itself a folk-rockin' supergroup. Mutual respect and spotlight time keep the vibe smooth and carefree. Highlights: "Dear God," "Say Please," "Temazcal," "Baby Boomer," "Slow Down Jo." — Stephanie Benson
Packing 25 songs — many of them even longer than the artist's out-of-control hermit-of-the-woods hair — onto two discs (the "black" one theoretically more despondent, the "white" one theoretically more redemptive), Jamey Johnson's country-chart-topping The Guitar Song presented itself as a major work right out of the gate. From Rolling Stone (a rarely precedented 4 ½ stars out of 5) to Billboard (speculation about this being "the most important country album in a decade") on down, few in the media argued. Which makes sense, because it's an excellent record. You could maybe trim a handful of cuts, but the cuts you'd exclude might not be the same ones I would. Johnson was no doubt advised to start clearing mantel space for a pile of Grammys right away, and come 2020, the album will probably show up on a few best-of-the-'10s lists. Which is one reason to clear up a couple of fairly predictable misconceptions about it right off the bat: First, that Johnson and The Guitar Song represent some kind of extreme left turn back to "traditional" country and have nothing to do with the rest of what's gone down in the rest of Nashville in recent years; second, that the country he draws on is mostly of the "outlaw" variety. Not that he lacks old-school or outlaw leanings; they're in there, sure. But so is other stuff, some of it not even country at all. Here's a rundown of the sorts of music Johnson seems to draw on.
A beginner's guide to the unspeakably heavy music that comes out of New Orleans, and has for years. Phil Anselmo's Down and Superjoint Ritual, the brainy stomach punch of Soilent Green, scene godfathers Crowbar and Goatwhore, psychedelic metal courtesy of defunct but seminal Acid Bath and the anointed blues of Eyehategod. An excellent place to start, or maybe just go deaf — your choice.
By searching out South African musicians and collaborators, Paul Simon reconnected with both his audience and the joy of making music. This life-affirming album saw Simon abandoning confessional lyrics while maintaining a personal vision. Such fine songs as "The Boy In The Bubble," "Diamonds On The Soles of Her Shoes" and "Graceland" have lived on long past any needless controversy the album once encountered. — Nick Dedina
Several years ago, I interviewed Radric "Gucci Mane" Davis at the office of his former label, Atlanta indie upstart Big Cat Records. He had just finished a six-month bid for assaulting a local promoter with a pool cue and had narrowly escaped indictment charges for killing a man during a failed invasion of his home — the now-infamous 2005 incident when former rival Young Jeezy allegedly sent a team of goons to snatch Gucci's chain — by claiming self-defense. As Gucci and I spoke, his lawyer and publicist listened closely, ready to interject if the conversation veered into a hazardous legal area.
But Gucci didn't seem like a violent felon. He was quiet, shy and articulate. He nervously revealed that he had completed some courses at Georgia Perimeter College before settling on a rap career and claimed that he made party music, not hardcore gangsta rap. "I'm a party rapper," he protested. "I like to get it crunk … dancefloor music, that's what I'm best at."
And there lies the contradiction at the heart of Gucci Mane's persona and his music. The Gucci catalog is an adult playpen, with debauched tributes to getting "Wasted" and proclamations that "Kush Is My Cologne." He delivers these club anthems with a nasal vocal tone reminiscent of Hanna-Barbera character Snagglepuss, cryptic Dirty South slang and plenty of wink-wink humor that makes it all seductive and carefree. "Is you rollin'?" asks a woman on "Pillz" from 2006's Hard to Kill. "B*tch I might be," he answers. For Gucci's first national hit, "Freaky Gurl," he interpolated Rick James' "Super Freak" with intentionally hilarious results: "She's a very freaky gurl/ Don't take her to mama/ First you get her name/ Then you get her number/ Then you get some brain in the back seat of a Hummer."
One of Coldcut's calling cards was a mix titled "70 Minutes of Madness," but Ninja Tune, the label they founded, has racked up over 10 million. Ninja Tune turns 20 this year, having grown from a quirky imprint for head-nodding downtempo into an eclectic, independent powerhouse whose roster ranges from dubstep and hip-hop producers to singer-songwriters and jazz ensembles.
They celebrate the anniversary with Ninja Tune XX, a two-volume, quadruple-length compilation. Called a "futurespective" rather than a retrospective, it's not a greatest-hits collection but instead a sampling of new material and unusual collaborations.
The world of contemporary R&B is such a rich, wide-ranging landscape, a fact that's been driven home by the diversity of albums that have come out of (or at least been related to) that genre in the past couple of months: Shontelle's dancefloor-ready bangers and plaintive soul-pop, Seal's amorous adult contemporary, Lyfe Jennings' earnest, weathered crooning, Bruno Mars' limber tenor and dexterous pop stylings. It's a lot to keep up with, we know, so we've rounded up the hottest new releases, complete with nutshell reviews, don't-miss tracks and further listening suggestions. We'll get you caught up!
Alluringly unplugged: a guitar and Hill in song and conversation. Starts with a throaty laugh and builds to tears as she breaks open her soul in jams like "Mr. Intentional." Revel in rich acoustic guitar, poetry-slam lyrics, and intimate melodies that she admits are not fully developed (she even gets lost once). Play it through, let your soul wander, repeat as necessary. — Amy Bartlett
Sesame Street launched in 1969, back when New York was still trash-strewn and poor people actually lived there (yes, pre-Giuliani) — and when it was still revolutionary to show children of all races playing together on TV. The world has changed a lot since then, and many shows have intervened to loosen the Street's hold on the ratings, but to this day, nothing holds a candle to it for sheer inventiveness. A lot of that inventiveness streamed from Jim Henson, whose puppets initially merited just short skits but quickly came to occupy the show's center stage. Henson's brand of humor infiltrated the entire show; when you remember classic skits, chances are they involved puppets. Remember the Yip-Yip Martians? ("Yip, yip, yiiip. Nope, nope, nope.") Guy Smiley interviewing a loaf of bread? Kermit reporting at the scene of Humpty Dumpty's fall? We thought so.
But music has always been a huge part of Sesame Street's appeal, and its songwriters were big fans of Tin Pan Alley and vaudeville (some had actually been vaudeville performers in their youth). Sesame Street has also managed to pull down the biggest stars of every era, from Stevie Wonder to the recent ill-fated non-appearance by Katy Perry. (If you haven't seen Feist on the show, drop what you're doing and watch this now.)
As the Sesame Street catalog has finally become available digitally, we salute 40-plus years of the Street with a playlist of iconic Sesame Street songs, another playlist featuring awesome guest appearances (Stevie Wonder andJohnny Cash, among so many wonderful others), and a rundown of our five favorite characters and their significant musical moments. Sunny days, sweeping the clouds away — let's always be on our way to where the air is clean. In case you forgot, let Rhapsody remind you how to get to Sesame Street.
Although the marriage of Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash would end up being the marriage by which all others were measured, it was, famously, not without its trials. Each had been married before, and each had children from those marriages. You could hardly call them the Brady Bunch, but when it came to blending families, Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash were decades ahead of the curve.
June's marriage to Johnny was her third. She had one child with each of her three husbands: Rebecca Carlene Smith (with first husband Carl Smith), Rozanna (Rosie) Lea Nix (with second husband Edwin "Rip" Nix) and John Carter Cash (with third husband Johnny).
Before marrying June on March 1, 1968, Cash had been married to Vivian Liberto, whom he met while stationed in San Antonio, Tex.. When Cash returned from his tour of duty, the two were married in August, 1954. Together they had four daughters: Rosanne, Kathy, Cindy and Tara.
With a great deal of talent floating around in their gene pool, it's not surprising that many of their children/stepchildren would go on to become musicians in their own right. Here is a musical family tree of sorts for the Carter-Cash clan, starting with the first family of old-time country, the Carter Family.
John Lennon recorded material for eight rock solo albums and a handful of stand-alone singles before he was murdered.
If you take out his house-husband years, you get about a five- or six-year period of active recording. Not bad, considering that today's biggest stars often record something every five years or so and then go on extended world tours (because that's where the money is).
Now that Lennon's solo catalog has been remastered, let's take a look at it. What's striking to me about listening to all of it again is how much of it is either very good or outright fantastic.
That isn't to say John Lennon solo is perfect. The work is something better than that: it's interesting. Just because solo Lennon became a more linear, streamlined and direct songwriter than Beatles Lennon doesn't mean this work is predictable. These albums and songs overflow with contradictions and ironies, anger and love, hostility and compassion, self-disgust and acceptance. Some songs want to change the world, and others just want to close the blinds and take a long bath.
The Plastic Ono Band album and songs like "Instant Karma" and "Cold Turkey" marry pained confessional songwriting with stark rock 'n' roll that anticipates the coming N.Y.C. art-punk scene in ways that only The Velvets and The Stooges and their early listeners (Bowie, Roxy) usually get credit for. This gives way to the more "produced" feel of 1971's Imagine album — this is the era of the singer-songwriter and "soft rock," after all. An autobiographical song like "Mother" could cut directly into our collective psyches — the specifics become universal. Lennon's gentle ruminations rub shoulders with his bitter tirades, and the exposed pain of his childhood gives way to the contented songs written toward the end of his life.
There are several reasons why parsing John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band LP for its influences and inspirations is a more-than-daunting task.
By the end of the 1960s, The Beatles were, as Joe Carducci points out in his book Rock and the Pop Narcotic, their own medium. The group and its creative process appeared to exist inside a bubble, one that floated above and beyond the rest of pop music and culture. This, of course, wasn't reality, but The Beatles' towering myth sure made it seem as if it were. They were gods, while the rest of us were mere mortals. Timothy Leary once stated, "The Beatles are mutants. Prototypes of evolutionary agents sent by God, endowed with a mysterious power to create a new human species, a young race of laughing freemen." That reeks of LSD-induced hyperbole for sure, yet the techno-shaman's words accurately reflect the world's total obsession with John, Paul, George and Ringo back in the day.
"Isolation" from Plastic Ono Band
This heartbreaker depicts the post-Beatles comedown with Lennon completely cut off from everybody (and everything) but Yoko Ono. McCartney has been more open about his own breakdown during this period, but "Isolation" makes it plain that Lennon was having a very hard time of it himself: "We're afraid of everyone/ Afraid of the sun/ The sun will never disappear/ But the world may not have many years." Ouch!
"Cold Turkey" from Power to the People: The Hits
His fellow Beatles (especially George Harrison and Macca) were so upset over Lennon's brief heroin addiction that they refused to record this plainly autobiographical number, which became his second solo single. The explicit drug angle may be why it topped out at only No. 30 on the American pop charts. It's also been kept off FM classic rock radio, though other low-charting Lennon singles are now on constant rotation (right where they belong). Ironic, because "Cold Turkey" is one of the few decent antidrug rock songs of the era!
"Oh Yoko" from Imagine
The fact that this effervescent love song is specifically named after Yoko Ono pretty much killed it. Too bad — it is fantastic! Wes Anderson did what he could by using it humorously in Rushmore, but it didn't result in any more love for the number.
"Jealous Guy" from Imagine
His Power to the People political phase must have hurt Lennon's sales and radio placement during the early '70s. After all, this lovely ballad only went to No. 80 in the American pop charts (you read that right … 80). After his murder, Roxy Music expanded "Jealous Guy" into a tribute to the departed legend and played it on their concert tour. The audience response was massive and united people in a public grief-counseling session. Roxy's single version went to No. 1 everywhere but the States, where anti-cover song fever still held sway.
"Bring on the Lucie (Freda Peeple)" from Mind Games
OK, Lennon's protest era tunes could get pretty tiring (especially before the need to chant "War is over … if you want it" became an American priority again). But this album cut from Mind Games has real rock muscle and takes musical flight in ways that so many of his other political songs don't. As a bonus, the nasty/mean Lennon of old comes back on the verses, the best of which we can't quote here.
"Steel and Glass" from Walls and Bridges
The underrated Walls and Bridges album was, paradoxically, Lennon's biggest American seller during his lifetime. This biting, bilious wonder seems to be about ex-manager Allen Klein, whose hiring by Lennon was one of the nails in the coffin of the Lennon/McCartney partnership (ex-client Mick Jagger even warned them explicitly against hiring him).
"What You Got" from Walls and Bridges
Lennon brings back his screaming, shredded rock 'n' roll voice on this truly insane funk-rocker that sounds more 2010 than it does mid-1970s. Solo Lennon was the verbal equivalent of Andy Warhol: he knew how to seize upon the exact right group of words and make them iconic. "You don't know what you got until you lose it" describes the human condition (and his Lost Weekend separation from Yoko).
"Nobody Loves You (When You're Down and Out)" from Walls and Bridges
The greatest autobiographical material becomes universal. Lennon always felt removed from his fellow man, and yet this wonder should connect with all listeners during the toughest periods in their lives.
"Old Dirt Road" from Walls and Bridges
This list's fourth song from Walls and Bridges, which makes the 1974 release his most underrated solo album. "Old Dirt Road" was written with Harry Nilsson, a Beatles fanatic who was championed by the band well before his career took off. Nilsson, who probably had the most beautiful rock/pop voice of the late '60s and 1970s, had expansive McCartney-esque talents (and a similar knack for being lackadaisical about his work on occasion) before he burned out. If anything, Nilsson's childhood was even more dire than Lennon's; maybe that, along with their talent and propensity to drown their sorrows in drink, brought them together.
"I'm Stepping Out" from Milk and Honey
One of a number of posthumous Lennon wonders, "I'm Stepping Out" really takes off at 1:10 with a chorus that soars into the stratosphere. One of the many tragedies about Lennon's murder is that his music — and approach to existence — at the time of his death still seems so completely joyous and life-embracing.
Oh, happy day! John Lennon's catalog has been remastered and the mixes have been returned to the former Beatle's original wishes. Everything is up and streaming on Rhapsody, so it's a good opportunity to take a look at Lennon's solo material, which includes some of the best rock albums (and songs) ever made, along with a slew of deep-album cuts that deserve popular resurrection. Below, you'll find a handy user guide that includes an in-depth look at his classics, an overview of some of his hidden gems, and a window into his classic work with The Beatles. Be careful, though — this music may very well stay with you for the rest of your life. Welcome to Rhapsody, Mr. Lennon!
Cheat Sheet: Discover the best John Lennon solo records.
Listen to our selection of John Lennon's greatest songs.
Source Material: John Lennon's classic Plastic Ono Band, rediscovered and dissected.
Hear the ones that slipped away as we examine the most underrated songs.
Rock out with the classics on our Beatles radio station.
Bruno Mars' background as a songwriter coats every inch of his debut. These are impeccably crafted little pop masterpieces, designed to make you smile and sing along, and to showcase Mars' grainy tenor and deft touch with almost any genre. You want sunny, Jason Mraz-style love songs? Try "Count on Me." Sticky, dubby grooves? Check out the winsome "Liquor Store Blues," with Damian Marley. MJ? Cee-Lo? B.o.B.? They're all here in person or in spirit. Mars is almost too good a chameleon, refusing (or unable) to nail down a sound of his own. But he's got the charm and talent to pull it all off. — Rachel Devitt
Hip-hop may have been born in South Bronx in the mid-1970s, but mainstream America's first taste came in the next decade. From Run DMC and Biz Markie to N.W.A. and Public Enemy, it was a golden era for hip-hop. The genre was still young enough to know no boundaries, and some of the sounds we take for granted today were revolutionary back then. We've compiled some of our favorites from that decade, though there are certainly many more classics.
Beastie Boys, Paul's Boutique
Arguably their best album, the Beasties' sophomore effort was commercially ignored when released in '89, and hailed as a classic years later. The production (much of it by the Dust Brothers) is out of control: an unrelenting barrage of ridiculously funky samples and thick breakbeats. Lyrically they step it up as well, with ill wordplay and sick metaphors galore. — Brolin Winning
On the Record is a video series where rock stars gush about their favorite records -- in exactly 45 seconds. Click above to watch Skyzoo talk about his favorite album of all time.
More than just a brilliant experiment in grafting foreign time signatures to modern jazz, Time Out features superb songs, an era-defining hit ("Take Five") and the overriding rush of pure joy. It was a surprise crossover smash that helped free jazz's boundaries. Pianist Dave Brubeck recorded the majority of the tunes, while droll sax master Paul Desmond said he wrote "Take Five" so he could lean back and smoke during the drum solo. This 50th anniversary edition adds a live concert that cements a perfectly balanced swing and the avant-garde with crowd-pleasing populism. Essential. — Nick Dedina
V.V. Brown gets lumped in with Amy Winehouse as a U.K. retro-soul gal, but her debut's catchiest breakup songs sound just as indebted to Suzi Quatro's rockabilly glam, Lily Allen's sing-songy summer sarcasm, and George Michael's '80s cleanup of Bo Diddley pop. She can get precious and cutesy, her nasal voice isn't made for deep soul emoting, and her tempos slow near album's end. But the quirkiness of her metaphors and handclap bounce of her hooks keep things playful: "Leave!," for instance, moves from an OutKast riff to roller-rink organ. She also quotes the Shangri-Las -- never a bad sign. — Chuck Eddy
Why is Celso Fonseca so good? It's because he's got the best delivery, the prettiest arrangements and the coolest voice, and he's cleverer in English than many Americans could ever hope to be. (For proof, check out "Slow Motion Bossa Nova.") It's rare that an album is lush and delicious from start to finish, but this one is. Cibelle guests on "Ela Carioca." — Sarah Bardeen
You gave us your questions. We put them in a box. Watch songstress Sara Bareilles confess her favorite karaoke tunes, learn what adorned her adolescent bedroom walls and hear what she'd really rather be doing than hanging out in a tent with Rhapsody.
The English Beat decided to do more than just evoke the sounds of the past on their debut album: they created an original, hybridized world of rock, pop, reggae and ska. "Mirror in the Bathroom" is the key track on a set that practically plays like a greatest hits collection -- "Big Shot," "Hands Off... She's Mine", "Best Friend" all became modern classics. Solid songwriting was only enhanced by the combination of Dave Wakeling's lead vocals, Rankin' Roger's toasting style, and an amazing rhythm section. — Jon Pruett
Defining "girl groups" as a genre or style of music is a deceptively complicated task. At its most basic, of course, the girl-group sound is the music that's produced/performed/created by a gathering of more than two women. Except it isn't always: during the classic girl-group era of the 1950s and 1960s, solo artists like Lil Eva, Dusty Springfield, Mary Wells and Darlene Love were frequently included under the umbrella (pink, of course) of the girl-group sound. Conversely, not every performing group of girls is a Girl Group, of course.
Ladies and gentlemen, may we introduce you to the new, improved, grown-up 
The end of summer and beginning of fall could be described as "waiting for 
Fellow Rhapsody scribe Chuck Eddy recently charted the 
Sometimes it's hard to remember, on a typical Tuesday night, that 
Early prediction: 
Even on a good day, rock is a strange and scary beast. Hotel rooms are trashed; drugs ingested; bizarre sexual acts perpetrated; egos massaged; guyliner applied; and so on and so forth. So, in terms of scary stories, five decades of debauchery, excess and generally abnormal and unacceptable behavior have set the bar pretty high for rock 'n' roll.
The South has always known how to rock, giving birth to music pioneers like 
Here are a few impressions of the latest hip-hop hits.
If ever there were a rock 'n' roll holiday, it's Halloween. Ghosts, ghouls, goblins, blood sports, sexy costumes and hard candy all take center stage. And while that sounds frightening to some, it's also all the ingredients for a great party. Get your own holiday started with our selection of music's greatest Halloween songs as well as a collection of some of the scariest songs ever made. If you dare, read the tales of debauchery and occultism in our "Rock's Scariest Stories" feature. Dig in, and don't forget to turn off the lights.
Monotonix don't believe in stages. Here they gather the crowd for their version of a fireside chat.
Now that chillwave is ebbing, there's a new fly-by-night micro-genre upon us. It's been called "witch house," for its occult iconography and its pilferings from electronic dance music; its artists are sometimes called "triangle bands" for their obsession with the shape, often including triangles, crosses and other charged (and Google-proofed) symbols in their very names: consider Lake R∆dio, Gr†LLGR†LL, or the inscrutable ///▲▲▲\\\. (The three-sided meme is hardly limited to witch house, however, as you'll see from this 
A fan of classic rock? Then your music collection probably contains several titles released by Elektra Records, which is celebrating its 60th anniversary this year.
Get caught up with new releases from indie darlings Belle and Sebastian, Sufjan Stevens, Antony and the Johnsons, Deerhunter and No Age. Also discover rising acts Benoit Pioulard, and 
When 
The drone. It's a sustained note that hangs, while music happens (or doesn't happen) around it ... and when you start digging, you can find it everywhere: in 
The release of FaR*eAst Movement's 
The mythical emcee is usually an egoist, often claiming credit for constructing a song himself (even though "ghostwriters" and others contribute lyrics more often than the public realizes) and relegating the producer to the background (even though producers not only create the beat, but sometimes the arrangements and even the hooks) and engineers to the liner notes (even though engineers often play a crucial role in the sound and vibe of an album). It's no surprise that, as hip-hop has become big business, classic groups of the '80s and '90s like 
Hair metal, if memory serves, wasn't particularly called "hair metal" much during most of its heyday. Even circa 1987-88, when mascara and eyeliner dominated MTV, if you'd picked up a rock magazine you likely would've seen "pop-metal," "glam-metal," "false-metal," "shag-metal" or "Nerf-metal" at least as often. In retrospect, of course, the genre didn't seem to have much to do with "metal" at all. Even early on, the '70s acts it took as inspiration -- 
Packing 25 songs — many of them even longer than the artist's out-of-control hermit-of-the-woods hair — onto two discs (the "black" one theoretically more despondent, the "white" one theoretically more redemptive), 
Several years ago, I interviewed Radric "
One of 
The world of contemporary R&B is such a rich, wide-ranging landscape, a fact that's been driven home by the diversity of albums that have come out of (or at least been related to) that genre in the past couple of months: Shontelle's dancefloor-ready bangers and plaintive soul-pop, Seal's amorous adult contemporary, Lyfe Jennings' earnest, weathered crooning, Bruno Mars' limber tenor and dexterous pop stylings. It's a lot to keep up with, we know, so we've rounded up the hottest new releases, complete with nutshell reviews, don't-miss tracks and further listening suggestions. We'll get you caught up!
Sesame Street launched in 1969, back when New York was still trash-strewn and poor people actually lived there (yes, pre-Giuliani) — and when it was still revolutionary to show children of all races playing together on TV. The world has changed a lot since then, and many shows have intervened to loosen the Street's hold on the ratings, but to this day, nothing holds a candle to it for sheer inventiveness. A lot of that inventiveness streamed from Jim Henson, whose puppets initially merited just short skits but quickly came to occupy the show's center stage. Henson's brand of humor infiltrated the entire show; when you remember classic skits, chances are they involved puppets. Remember the Yip-Yip Martians? ("Yip, yip, yiiip. Nope, nope, nope.") Guy Smiley interviewing a loaf of bread? Kermit reporting at the scene of Humpty Dumpty's fall? We thought so. 
Although the marriage of Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash would end up being the marriage by which all others were measured, it was, famously, not without its trials. Each had been married before, and each had children from those marriages. You could hardly call them the Brady Bunch, but when it came to blending families, Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash were decades ahead of the curve. 
There are several reasons why parsing 
Oh, happy day! John Lennon's catalog has been remastered and the mixes have been returned to the former Beatle's original wishes. Everything is up and streaming on Rhapsody, so it's a good opportunity to take a look at Lennon's solo material, which includes some of the best rock albums (and songs) ever made, along with a slew of deep-album cuts that deserve popular resurrection. Below, you'll find a handy user guide that includes an in-depth look at his classics, an overview of some of his hidden gems, and a window into his classic work with The Beatles. Be careful, though — this music may very well stay with you for the rest of your life. Welcome to Rhapsody, Mr. Lennon!
Hip-hop may have been born in South Bronx in the mid-1970s, but mainstream America's first taste came in the next decade. From Run DMC and Biz Markie to N.W.A. and Public Enemy, it was a golden era for hip-hop. The genre was still young enough to know no boundaries, and some of the sounds we take for granted today were revolutionary back then. We've compiled some of our favorites from that decade, though there are certainly many more classics.
Portions of album content provided by All Music Guide © 2011 All Media Guide, LLC ® 1999-2011 Rhapsody International Inc.