Many authors have sought to chronicle the cultural ferment that gave rise to the Southern California pop music explosion of the 1960s. And while some efforts have yielded worthwhile books, Hollywood Eden: Electric Guitars, Fast Cars, and the Myth of the California Paradise stands apart. The newest book from Joel Selvin — the author of nearly 20 music and pop culture books and a music critic for the San Francisco Chronicle for nearly four decades — Hollywood Eden presents a narrative of the late '50s and early-to-mid 1960s that reveals the interconnectedness of key figures.
"My books tend toward these ensemble pieces," says Selvin, who notes that his own personal musical axis has long been based in part on the Beach Boys. He says that the genesis of Hollywood Eden can be traced back to a meeting with his longtime friend Kevin P. Walsh, a 1958 graduate of University High School in West Los Angeles.
"The locus of the book was this University High class," Selvin says. "That was what tied everything together: discovering that all those people not only went to school together but knew each other and started their careers together, right there."
While the book — and its author's accompanying curated music playlist — features a dazzling cast of familiar characters, Selvin believes that Hollywood Eden is about much more than that. "It's really more of a time and a place," he says. "It was a totally different world from now: there was no 405 freeway, and the Sunset and Sepulveda intersection [had] a four-way stop sign."
In those days, the high schoolers profiled in Hollywood Eden were facing a future ripe with possibilities. Selvin emphasizes, too, that "the whole American phenomenon of 'teenage' was coming into its own in the prosperity of the post-war [period]. These were golden opportunities to be a teenager on the Westside of Los Angeles in the late '50s."
There are many ways for a writer to tackle the sort of subject matter explored in Hollywood Eden . Selvin's chosen method is to write in a style that reads like a novel, yet steers clear of the kind of manufactured dialogue (between Brian Wilson's great-grandparents in the 1920s) that characterized Timothy White's similarly-themed 1994 book, The Nearest Faraway Place .
Also of cultural consequence is the story of Kathy Kohner. Her experiences hanging out with members of the then-nascent surfing community would inform the cultural lexicon of a generation when her father, novelist-screenwriter Frederick Kohner wrote Gidget: The Little Girl with Big Ideas in 1957.
Another character whose tale serves as a kind of connective tissue uniting seemingly separate stories is Jill Gibson. For much of the period covered in Hollywood Eden , Gibson was dating Jan Berry. "But Jill Gibson was anything but 'somebody's girlfriend,'" Selvin explains. Drafted as a replacement for Michelle Phillips in the Mamas and the Papas, Gibson was an accomplished songwriter and photographer as well. "I was really proud to bring Jill out of the background," Selvin says. "I think she's an archetypal California personality."
Selvin's gravitas as a journalist and writer means that he gained up-close access to key people whose stories inform the richly textured Hollywood Eden . He laughs as he acknowledges that Bruce Johnston "is constantly busy and not too interested in participating in somebody's book project." Nonetheless, Selvin says that the Beach Boy — who had hits of his own before joining that group in 1965 — granted interviews for the book. And his perspective proved valuable, Selvin laughs again, "because he's the only guy I met who liked Kim Fowley!"
Katy B's On a Mission bridged club culture and pop | The Independent
he timing of the 10-year anniversary of Katy B's debut album, the exhilarating On A Mission , on 1 April 2021, couldn't help but feel extra poignant. Currently, the future of nightlife in the UK looks uncertain, with the Night Time Industries Association warning that unless the government steps in, "much of what defines a night out in the UK will be lost forever". But On A Mission is a jolt back in time to a recent past when clubbing was everything, with a party on every night of the week, where anyone who mingled next to those speaker stacks could be a star. This was the 2000s pop album that united the charts with the cutting edge of club culture – like our generation's answer to Club Classics Vol One by Soul II Soul.
After a year devoid of dancefloors, hearing the strobe-lit, bassy joy of On A Mission again is like a balm. Katy B's debut is an essential pop album documenting the sweaty, messy highs of a night out at east London's mid-2000s dubstep hub Plastic People. It's a record that pulsates with the smoky memories of the bass-driven strains of electronic club music – dubstep, house and UK funky – that emanated from the dancefloor and then reverberated through the recording booth. On the indelible lead single, "Katy On a Mission", Katy's coy vocal mirrors the experience of stepping down Plastic People's stairs towards its basement, which was famed for the intensity of its sound system and its near-darkness: " elevating higher as my body's moving lower" .
Though the press of the time clumsily labelled her the new "queen of dubstep", that wasn't a crown Katy B herself rushed to claim: she had flirted with that sound on her debut – a ribcage-rattling mutation of dub and 2-step with sparse syncopated beats– but also with house, drum'n'bass, jazz, and electro-pop. "I think anyone who has grown up in London will identify with my music," she explained herself to MTV back in 2014. "It's just a hybrid of everything I would listen to, from R&B, to hip-hop, to grime, to garage, to house, drum and bass and dubstep... I like to change it up quite a bit and I really enjoy that about what I do because I get to be a bit of a chameleon."
While it was new territory for chart pop, On A Mission is also a rarity as a dance music album that foregrounds the vocalist rather than the producers. It was originally conceived as a compilation album to showcase Rinse producers, but the project changed to fit around Katy as her vocals– always breezy, yet emotionally rich – stole the show. This was an uncommon occurrence, with many female dance vocalists going uncredited. There were extra barriers facing Black women in the scene, who, unlike Katy, had to face the double oppression of sexism and racism when they struggled to get credit for their work. Singer Katie Pearl spoke frankly with Mixmag last year about the extra difficulties that Black women faced when it came to breaking through from the UK funky scene into the mainstream, from being labelled a "diva" or "unmarketable", to having to fight for credit on their own songs.
In the current landscape, with streaming and social media necessitating the release of a constant flow of singles , it seems the deck is stacked even higher against dance music vocalists who want to break through. A study in 2019 found that of the 100 most popular songs in the UK in 2018, 91 men or all-male groups were credited, in comparison to just 30 women. Of the 100 songs, only 13 were credited to solo women (in 2008, this number was 35). The BBC suggested this change was due to the rise of a pop music culture in which women vocalists are most often the "featured" act on tracks produced by men.
If an artist like Katy B were to want to break into mainstream pop today, it's easy to imagine she might do so as a featured artist on tracks by Disclosure, CamelPhat or another DJ superstar. (These tend to be, of course, overwhelmingly male, with the number of female producers in the pop charts consistently hovering at around 2 per cent .) Debut albums like On A Mission just don't happen so readily any more. Instead, singers seem to spend years generating hype by dropping single after single with a rotating cast of collaborators. Take Becky Hill, the drum'n'bass-loving powerhouse pop singer who has released 10 UK Top 40 singles over her eight-year career, and is yet to release her debut solo album.
Or RAYE, who feels like a 2021 peer to Katy B: also a south Londoner, and also a BRIT School student, she's a fearlessly talented songwriter who weaves R&B and dance subcultures into her pop hits. (Like Becky Hill, she's had three Top 10 singles, before releasing a debut full-length.) But she feels that at times, she's had to compromise her vision to break the pop glass ceiling and cater to white mainstream audiences. "You listen to the radio and if you're making [R&B] music you get sectioned off into 1Xtra world," she told The Guardian in 2017 . "You won't get plays and the support you need from big radio and you get written off. Which is why I had to learn what compromise was at a really young age."
Re-listening to On A Mission in 2021 brings with it a nostalgic ache, not just for the thrum of a packed dancefloor, but also for such a thrilling, out-of-the-blue pop vocal debut album. Together with Geeneus, Benga, Zinc, and Skream, Katy B was able to arrive fully formed, with a vision and an identity that felt new in the pop landscape. Just 10 years on, it seems in some ways even tougher for young stars to announce themselves in the same way, to the same level of success. New artists are up against factors like physical sales having a bigger impact on chart placement than streams , and a fast-moving, disposable pop culture that requires them to rack up a string of hits before they ever record an album.
Though Katy waded further into the pop world on her 2014 follow-up Little Red , on which she worked with Robbie Williams collaborator Guy Chambers and scored her first No 1, she always seemed like something of a reluctant pop star. Her 2016 record, Honey , was an underrated gem – perhaps because she seemed to approach it with the antithesis of an ego-centred popstar mindset. Every track was a collaboration, with all her collaborators given equal billing, and it was her first album not to feature her face on the cover. Weaving luxuriously from sunlit Kaytranada grooves to a Craig David duet via a Four Tet and Floating Points jam, it was the sound of a musician in her laid-back, experimental element.
Lana Del Rey and the struggle to be mysterious in pop - BBC Culture
Lana Del Rey is one of the most fascinating and mysterious artists of her generation. Since she broke through in 2011 with the single Video Games – a stunning retro-pop song that sounded eerily familiar yet startlingly unique – she has managed to keep fans captivated without giving too much away.
This mystique is a key part of her appeal, but it comes at a price – namely, fans and critics asking: "Who is the real Lana Del Rey?" The basic facts can be pieced together from her early interviews. We know she grew up in upstate New York as Elizabeth Woolridge Grant and began writing songs at 18 when her uncle taught her to play "six basic chords'' on the guitar. After releasing her debut EP as Lizzy Grant in 2008, she adopted a stage name that better fitted the enigmatic image she was developing – one steeped in glamour, but with a tragic undertow. "I wanted a name I could shape the music towards," she told Vogue in 2011 . "I was going to Miami quite a lot at the time, speaking a lot of Spanish with my friends from Cuba – Lana Del Rey reminded us of the glamour of the seaside. It sounded gorgeous coming off the tip of the tongue."
From early in her career, Lana Del Rey has developed an enigmatic image – one steeped in glamour, but with a tragic undertow (Credit: Getty Images)
Still, despite this early sneering at her supposed lack of "authenticity", Del Rey has firmly defied her detractors. Nearly a decade later, the singer's excellent seventh album Chemtrails over the Country Club has just become another chart success, debuting at number two in the US and number one in the UK. Chemtrails is a richly evocative pop album on which Del Rey continues to build her own mythology – opening track White Dress finds her pondering her pre-fame days as a waitress – and reveals a growing disdain for fame. "It's dark, but just a game – so play it like a symphony," she sings on Dark but Just a Game.
Impressively, though Del Rey is playing this "dark" game at a time when artists are subject to increasingly close scrutiny, she has maintained much of her mystique. Thanks to the shape-shifting flair of David Bowie and Madonna in particular, conventional wisdom states that pop stars must reinvent themselves to stay relevant. With such reinventions, the mechanics of pop stardom are often laid bare, because even a genius-level chameleon can't hide every single contrivance. However, Del Rey has succeeded by doing the exact opposite. With each album, she doubles down on her aloof persona and refines a sound that is cinematic, languid and dreamy. It's also instantly recognisable as her own. All the while, she has never made it any clearer where Elizabeth Grant ends and "Lana Del Rey" begins.
In 2021, she doesn't seem inauthentic – whatever authenticity is – at all. Rather she looks like a proper pop auteur – one who doesn't try to be "accessible", "relatable" or anything else that pop stars are supposed to be in the social media era. For years, we have had no idea who Lizzy/Lana might be behind closed doors. In this respect, she recalls old-school enigmas like Prince and Kate Bush: artists we can't – and don't want to – picture doing anything as mundane as making a cup of tea. This only enhances her appeal to intensely invested fans who don't just enjoy streaming her music, but owning a piece of her art. In its first week on sale, Chemtrails became the UK's fastest-selling vinyl album of the century by a female artist.
It's easy to see why this criticism of her album cover touched a nerve. Seven months earlier, in May 2020, Del Rey was accused of racial insensitivity after she complained in an Instagram post that she has been portrayed as less feminist than many of her contemporaries. Because she named a list of mainly black female performers who had in her eyes avoided similar criticism – including Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj and Cardi B – many commentators felt she had been tone-deaf about her white privilege. They also accused her of overlooking the way black women in the public eye have for decades been hyper-sexualised. On this occasion, Del Rey also responded with an Instagram comment , insisting she had simply cited her "favourite" artists and saying it was "sad" to make it an issue involving women of colour. "And this is the problem with society today," she added, "Not everything is about whatever you want it to be. It's exactly the point of my post."
However, she became rather more visible last year – and not in a good way – when she responded to critical comments about Music, her first effort as a film director. When the trailer premiered in November, the film's depiction of an autistic character played by non-autistic actress Maddie Ziegler was heavily criticised. "Why don't you watch my film before you judge it? FURY," she tweeted after engaging in a fiery back-and-forth with actors and activists who were distressed by the trailer. When an overwhelmingly negative response to the film swelled again on its release in February, Sia backtracked by apologising to the autistic community and admitting she had "listened to the wrong people" during production. She also deleted her Twitter account.
Sia has used an oversized wig to create a certain distance in her public image (Credit: Getty Images)
Myanmar's online pop-up markets raise funds for protest - StarTribune.com
Online, many have found a safer, more substantive way to show their defiance against February's military takeover — virtual rummage sales whose proceeds go to the protest movement's shadow government and other related political causes.
Everything from clothes and toys, to music lessons and outdoor adventures are on sale. Foreign friends are encouraged to donate, but fundraising inside Myanmar also serves the purpose of raising political consciousness for challenging the ousting of Aung San Suu Kyi's elected government.
Facebook users have taken to the social network to sell off their possessions, advertising that all the money raised will go to fund the Committee Representing Pyidaungsu Hluttaw, formed by elected members of Parliament who were blocked from taking their seats by the coup.
The committee styles itself as the sole legitimate government of the country, rejecting the ruling junta as without legal standing. In turn, the junta has outlawed the committee and declared it treasonous, threatening to jail not just its members but anyone supporting it.
Formed from scratch shortly after the Feb. 1 coup, the CRPH needs money to carry on its organizing activities inside the country and diplomatic efforts abroad.
Even as the authorities keep narrowing access to the internet, lately limited to a relatively small number of households with fiber broadband connections, deals are still available.
Last week, one young woman was offering her collection of K-Pop music and memorabilia, especially of the band Exo. Anyone interested had to show her a receipt for a donation to CRPH, and the item would go to whoever gave the most.
"It is not very pricey but difficult to collect. If you show me your CRPH donation slip, choose anything and I will give it to you," his message read.
One group of friends advertised their collection of novels, poems and motivational books, with proceeds again going to the democracy fight and delivery "when everything becomes stable."
Sam Riggs holds pop-up concert, will donate portion of profits to families of fallen first
WACO, TX — Texas singer-songwriter Sam Riggs held a pop-up concert outside the Infamous Ink tattoo studio in Waco Wednesday.
The band was promoting their new album as well as shooting the music video for their latest single, "Wasteland."
"I feel like Waco, Texas, Waco Strong, man. They've always been so supportive of us. They bought tickets, they stream music, they always come to show love, show their support. They've shown love and support to Infamous Ink over the years. It's an incredible city, and we're just happy to be here" the musician said.
A portion of the money made will be donated to families of fallen first responders, and the band is matching the total.
"They're there for us, they're there to take care of us. I recently was in an accident, a roll-over accident, caught on fire, and there were state troopers on the scene taking care of everybody, the other family involved," Riggs said. "Everybody was okay. Everybody walked away, but the state troopers were there, law enforcement in general, day in and day out. At the end of the day, we gotta promote the health, well-being, positivity of human kind."
Texas country singer Sam Riggs to play Waco pop-up show Wednesday | Music | wacotrib.com
Texas country singer-songwriter Sam Riggs will fly into Waco Wednesday for a 6 p.m. pop-up concert and music video taping at Infamous Ink.
The show will take place from 6 to 8 p.m. in the Infamous Ink parking lot, 933 Lake Air Drive, with food from Uncle Dan's Barbecue, giveaways and tattoo specials from the shop, which is marking its 10th anniversary this year.
Surviving a year where gigs and touring were largely sidelined by COVID-19 considerations taught Texas country singer Sunny Sweeney the lesson…
Tom Wilson, the Waco-born producer behind pivotal music moments in 1960s American pop and rock, may not be such an invisible icon in the near future.
For those in the crowd at Mike Ryan's Friday night show who sigh with relief at getting out of the house, he can relate.
The Weeknd, Megan Thee Stallion and Roddy Ricch are among the top nominees for next month's iHeartRadio Music Awards.
Texas country singer-songwriter Josh Abbott will play a solo acoustic show Friday night at The Backyard, 511 S. Eighth St.
Body Meat: Year of the Orc EP Album Review | Pitchfork
Channeling sugar-rush synths and bracing noise, the Philadelphia producer continues his quest to make pop music stranger and more head-spinning—and to test listeners' ability to follow the twists and turns.
Christopher Taylor's vision of pop music embraces extremes. The Philadelphia producer and songwriter has made room in his albums as Body Meat for sugar-rush synth programming and bracing noise; kaleidoscopic vocal melodies and teeth-chattering percussive contortions; ecstatic dancefloor revelations and existential despair. It's chaotic, overwhelming stuff, which is part of the point. Taylor has said his music is deliberately meant to test the limits of pop, along with his audience's ability to keep up with all the twists and turns. "How loose can I go with this idea?" He wondered in an interview . "And how far can I push it until people start jumping off?"
There's a lot of pain in these songs, but part of what makes Body Meat's music so compelling is that he makes a lot of room for tranquility, too. Amid the turbulent production there's also "Stand By," a digital funk love song as tender and romantic as any of Brent Faiyaz 's sleepy ballads. On "Ghost," the distorted chorale that ends the EP, Taylor sings of finding renewal in loss. "I see a new self but I breathe just the same," he sighs.
That track features the ambient composer Laraaji , who has often preached that peace is always around us, even in the midst of turmoil. "Right where we are is a whole ocean of peace, perfection, oneness, eternity," he said in an interview last year. That philosophy sounds paradoxically in tune with Body Meat's music. On Year of the Orc, Taylor trudges through the chaos, echoing the absurdity of a troubled world, yet somehow he finds stillness. It's a bold aim for a musician who purports to make pop music. He dreams big and invites you to join him in his reveries.
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Demi Lovato begins a new chapter with most recent album - The Cavalier Daily - University of
Despite being bundled together, the album and documentary operate differently in narrating Lovato's return. The documentary is an eye-opening glimpse into the events leading up to her overdose, past traumas, the impact her addiction had on loved ones and, of course, her recovery. It explores her addiction in an honest and raw manner. However, the documentary feels supplementary — and at times unnecessary — to telling Lovato's story.
While the album is her magnum opus, it is not without critique. Many of the features feel like rejects of the guest artists, with nothing distinctly Demi about the tracks besides her vocals. Perhaps the most disappointing was "Met Him Last Night" featuring Ariana Grande. The track sounds like a throw away from "thank u, next" with its recycled trap beat and string intro. While many of Grande's features prove to be underwhelming time and time again — see remixes like "Oh Santa!" with Mariah Carey and "Faith" with Stevie Wonder — Lovato and Grande are two "it girls" in pop music at the moment, so expectations were high for something other than a half-baked Grande replica.
Ultimately, neither Lovato's album or documentary are perfect. But perhaps perfection is not Lovato's goal with either work, but rather honesty and authenticity. The singer-songwriter is not aiming to be a sex symbol, an advocate or even a pop star. She's shed all preconceptions listeners may have about her to truly start over.
In both physical and digital ways, this beautiful sight has certainly brought the University community together in a period so marked by seclusion.
"Godzilla vs. Kong" delivers exactly what the title promises — two giant monsters fight and create chaos around them.
Lil Nas X— a gay, Black rapper— has found a way to embrace this legacy of opposing the imposition of conservative "norms" to tell his own story.
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