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    Sabrina Carpenter and Pop’s Next Gen Have a Secret Weapon: Amy Allen

    Some well-played profanity can make a pop song sizzle.But few expletives in recent memory have had the potentially career-altering crackle of the one let fly by Sabrina Carpenter, a former Disney Channel star, on “Please Please Please,” her Dolly Parton-meets-Abba confection that became a surprise No. 1 hit this summer.“Heartbreak is one thing, my ego’s another,” Carpenter flutters, before a plea to a new fling: “I beg you, don’t embarrass me, little sucker” — except instead of little sucker (the radio edit), she rhymes an unprintable four-syllable term of tongue-in-cheek endearment, dropping her voice low and lathering it in a knowing hillbilly sass.Carpenter sells it. But she had help — a playful, foul-mouthed voice in her ear insisting that a pop star these days might as well run Dolly through a TikTok-friendly system update, or sneak a Dada phrase like “that’s that me espresso” into the cultural lexicon.“Five years ago, I would have never thought it was OK,” said Amy Allen, the hit songwriter credited on “Please Please Please,” along with “Espresso” and every other track on Carpenter’s breakout album, “Short n’ Sweet.” But Top 40, in no small part thanks to Allen, is entering a much-needed era of quirk, in which regular jolts of the unexpected are cutting through a sludge of smooth-brained content.“Now I feel scared of generic things that sound like No. 1s,” said Allen, 32, who landed her first chart-topping hit, “Without Me” by Halsey, five years ago. “Listeners are just getting smarter and smarter now,” she added. “They want something to be odd, something to be off, something to be really catchy and unexpected about a lyric or melody. The days of really polished pop are shifting out.”“There’s not a lot of women that have a ton of longevity as songwriters, which is really upsetting,” Allen said. “I will do everything in my power to break that stereotype.”Adali Schell for The New York TimesWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    What if Orchestras Were More Like Netflix?

    As subscriptions face an uncertain future, classical music could look to the membership models of streaming services and gyms for inspiration.Perhaps you spend your mornings at the gym, working out with the help of a playlist on Spotify. In the evening, you wind down with Netflix or a movie on Max. As you go to bed, you might even open a meditation app to help you fall asleep. Then you wake up, and do it all again.A routine like that is built on memberships that provide unlimited access to something for a monthly fee, and are tightly woven into our lives in part because they’re convenient. (Dangerously so: I’m far from alone in having realized too late how many free trials have turned into valves quietly hoovering up money from my bank account.) Why, then, have they not caught on in classical music performances?The model could go something like this: You pay a monthly membership fee to your local symphony orchestra that entitles you to attend however much you’d like. As with a gym or a streaming service, some people may go often; some, not at all. Regardless, the orchestra receives steady revenue, and you have full control of your calendar, with the ability to make plans even the day of a performance.While a handful of orchestras have experimented with this model, it hasn’t become standard because most institutions already have a long-established ticketing program they prefer: subscriptions. In that system, people are sold packages for a season, which involves planning evenings out up to a year or more in advance. This works for those who like to go on the same night of the week, or sit in the same seat. Orchestras, in turn, are provided with financial security.According to the League of American Orchestras, subscriptions have bounced back from a pandemic slump strongly enough that they grew by 7 percent from 2019 to 2024. Administrators, however, have long been anxious about the future of the subscription model. Less than a decade ago, the League itself commissioned a study that revealed subscriptions were not only in decline, but also out of touch with how people plan and purchase entertainment today.The St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, shown performing in April, was an early adapter of the member model. “There just aren’t that many people in April who want to commit to concerts from September to June,” the ensemble’s leader said.Claire Loes for the St. Paul Chamber OrchestraWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    The Timely Dude-ology of MJ Lenderman

    The in-demand sideman and Wednesday guitarist sharpens his tragicomic musical portraiture on a new solo album, “Manning Fireworks.”MJ Lenderman has been traveling light. In a London Airbnb on a recent afternoon, the 25-year-old rock musician (the MJ is for Mark Jacob; friends call him Jake) had a day off from his summer European tour with the band Wednesday, with plans to catch a screening of “Alien: Romulus.” Asked if he’d picked up any souvenirs on his travels, he searched his luggage, producing just a Nature’s Bakery fig bar and a bottle of tequila.“I tend to not buy things on tour,” he said on a video call, dressed in a T-shirt with the logo of a friend’s record label (Sophomore Lounge). And the success of Wednesday’s most recent album, “Rat Saw God” from 2023, has kept him on the road. The LP, earmarked by his laconically fierce guitar and the frontwoman Karly Hartzman’s vivid storytelling, elevated the band to a new tier. Lenderman’s guitar and vocal harmonies are also prominent on “Tigers Blood,” the acclaimed LP by the kindred Southern indie rock act Waxahatchee, particularly on its single “Right Back to It,” his standout duet with the singer-songwriter Katie Crutchfield.This Friday, Lenderman releases his latest solo album, “Manning Fireworks,” doubling down on his skills as a singer-songwriter frontman — skills on striking display on the single “She’s Leaving You,” a Neil Young-style country-rocker involving an unfortunate character who evidently discovers that what happens in Las Vegas doesn’t necessarily stay in Vegas. Opening on the withering couplet “You can put your clothes back on/She’s leaving you,” it accrues comically damning details on a downward spiral that resolves with an incongruously anthemic chorus. “It falls apart,” Lenderman drawls, offering cold comfort over a terrifically catchy hook, “We all got work to do.”The combination of humor and poignancy — John Prine was a master of it — is a trick few songwriters can pull off. Lenderman can. “I tend to like that in the stuff that I consume,” he said, listing some creative touchstones. “Larry Brown — I’ve read most of his books. Harry Crews. Certain filmmakers, like Todd Solondz. The Coen brothers. I love David Berman’s songwriting. Will Oldham. Bill Callahan, too; his lyrics are super airtight. I’ve been obsessed with ‘37 Push Ups’ — it’s an old Smog song. Whatever that character is, is kind of a blueprint for the kind of characters I like to write about.”Lenderman’s new solo album is a flipbook of misshapen masculinity, toxic and otherwise.Erin Brethauer for The New York TimesOn “Manning Fireworks,” those characters might be described as Questionable Dudes. “Wristwatch” is a droll sketch of a braggart inspired, Lenderman explained, by Andrew Tate and “this idea of alpha males gaining popularity. People spend thousands of dollars thinking they can learn how to be the ‘perfect man’ or something. It’s embarrassing.” Lenderman describes the lyrics of the title track as “kind of a laundry list of what makes this character a jerk,” one that builds from the couplet “One of these days you’ll kill a man/For asking a question you don’t understand.” The album is a flipbook of misshapen masculinity, toxic and otherwise.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Antônio Meneses, Lyrical Brazilian Cellist, Is Dead at 66

    He began playing as a child and quickly found success for his technical command and, as one critic put it, his “thoughtful elegance.”Antônio Meneses was 10 when he and his four brothers were recruited for the Rio Municipal Theater Orchestra. Their father, a French horn player in Rio de Janeiro, decided that his children should play string instruments to increase their employment odds.By the age of 24 Mr. Meneses had exceeded his father’s expectations: He had won two major international cello competitions, including the Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow, and was on his way to making recordings of Brahms and Richard Strauss with Herbert Von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic. He was later recruited by Menahem Pressler to become the last cellist in the late 20th century’s greatest piano trio, the Beaux Arts Trio.Mr. Meneses, who became one of his generation’s premier cellists and an important figure in the musical life of his native Brazil, died on Aug. 3 in Basel, Switzerland. He was 66.His death, in a hospital, was confirmed by his agent, Jean-Marc Peysson. The Brazilian news media said the cause was brain cancer.With his serious, concentrated playing, his singing tone, his sure technique and his absolute dedication to the musical text, Mr. Meneses marked himself as a musician’s musician.He was sought after by conductors like Zubin Mehta, Claudio Abbado and Andrew Davis, and by recitalists like the great Portuguese pianist Maria João Pires, with whom he recorded Brahms and Schubert, as well as the pianist Cristina Ortiz, his compatriot, with whom he recorded a memorable Villa-Lobos disc.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Pete Wade, Guitarist on Countless Nashville Hits, Dies at 89

    His clean tone and less-is-more approach made him a studio stalwart and a pioneer of what came to be known as the Nashville Sound.Pete Wade, a prolific and versatile Nashville studio guitarist who played on scores of blockbuster hits — including Ray Price’s “Crazy Arms” and Sonny James’s “Young Love,” two of the most popular country records of the middle to late 1950s — died on Wednesday at his daughter’s home in Hendersonville, Tenn., near Nashville. He was 89.His daughter, Angie Balch, said the cause was complications of hip surgery.A member of the loose aggregation of top-flight session musicians known as the Nashville A-Team, Mr. Wade played on numerous records regarded as classics. Among the best known were Loretta Lynn’s “Fist City” (1968), Lynn Anderson’s “Rose Garden” (1970), Crystal Gayle’s “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue” (1977), George Jones’s “He Stopped Loving Her Today” (1980) and John Anderson’s “Swingin’” (1983).All five of those records were No. 1 country hits; “Brown Eyes” and “Rose Garden” also won Grammy Awards and crossed over to the pop Top 10. “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” another Grammy winner, was added to the Library of Congress’s National Recording Registry in 2008.“Pete Wade treated all of them the same way,” the music journalist Peter Cooper said, referring to the many artists Mr. Wade accompanied, at an event celebrating his legacy at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum in 2016. “He listened, he comprehended, he added what would help, and he left out anything that would distract or water down.”Mr. Wade in 1954, the year he moved to Nashville. Soon after arriving, he joined Ray Price’s band, the Cherokee Cowboys; he went on to work with Mr. Price on and off for almost a decade.via Country Music Hall of Fame and MuseumAn empathetic musician whose clean tone and less-is-more approach lent themselves equally to rhythm and lead playing, Mr. Wade, who also played fiddle, bass and steel guitar, had a special affinity for collaborating with steel guitarists.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Fatman Scoop, a D.J. and Rapper, Dies at 56

    He was at the Hamden Town Center Park in Hamden, Conn., when he collapsed onstage on Friday night.The rapper Fatman Scoop, whose hoarse and booming voice brought an electric energy to songs by Missy Elliott and Mariah Carey, and who performed the underground club favorite “Be Faithful,” died after collapsing onstage during a performance on Friday. He was 56.A statement from the rapper’s family posted to his Instagram account confirmed his death but did not provide a cause. The post described him as “the undisputed voice of the club” and as a performer with an infectious stage presence.A video taken at the concert, at the Hamden Town Center Park in Hamden, Conn., appeared to show people performing CPR behind equipment on the stage.Lauren Garrett, the mayor of Hamden, said that paramedics had attempted lifesaving measures.Fatman Scoop, whose birth name was Isaac Freeman III, rose to prominence and international recognition after the song “Be Faithful,” in which the rapper performs over beats by the Crooklyn Clan, became the No. 1 single on the U.K. Billboard singles chart in 2003, more than four years after the track’s initial release.The song, which primarily samples “Love Like This” by Faith Evans, is a constant thrum of bass lines and lyrics from Fatman Scoop as he works to hype up a crowd.“You got a $100 bill get your hands up; you got a $50 bill get your hands up” are the opening lines to the track that goes on to rhythmically instruct a crowd to make noise.Questlove, the drummer for the Roots and the author of “Hip Hop Is History” (2024), wrote his appreciation on social media for the song and Fatman Scoop: “I want to thank FATMAN SCOOP for being an embodiment of what hip-hop was truly about,” he wrote. “To just forget about your troubles and live in the moment and allow joy in.”Fatman Scoop was born on Aug. 6, 1968, and grew up in Harlem, learning the art of hip-hop from his peers and those already making noise in the scene.“I am a disciple of Doug E. Fresh,” Fatman Scoop said in a 2023 interview with Urban Politicians TV, speaking of the New York City rapper who is also known as the Human Beat Box. “He was the neighborhood star.”“Everything that I learned, pretty much, I learned from Doug,” he added.Fatman Scoop was formerly a D.J. on Hot 97, an FM radio station in New York, which described him as a “legendary hype man and radio personality” in an online tribute. It said he helped usher a digital era for the station, bringing a video camera to what had been strictly a radio operation.Complete information on survivors was not immediately available.Missy Elliott recognized his impact in a tribute on social media on Saturday, saying “Fatman Scoop VOICE & energy have contributed to MANY songs that made the people feel HAPPY & want to dance for over 2 decades.” More

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    ‘Ice Cold’: From Biggie to Lil Yachty, Getting Your Shine On

    Hip-hop jewelry does a lot of heavy lifting in a new exhibition in Manhattan. It signifies elite membership, romantic courtship and ambition for greatness.Of the New York museums that would create an exhibition on jewelry associated with hip-hop culture, I would not have imagined the American Museum of Natural History to be one. Yet, “Ice Cold: An Exhibition of Hip-Hop Jewelry” did open this May in a tiny gallery of their Mignone Halls of Gems and Minerals. With 66 objects, it has an astute premise — that precious stones might attract more attention if regarded through the lens of hip-hop, likely the most widely proliferating music movement that the United States has ever produced.This show might have been organized to absorb the energy around the 50th anniversary of hip-hop’s inception last year or anticipate the Hip Hop Museum’s opening in the Bronx in 2025. More cynically, some might see “Ice Cold” as an act of penance for the museum’s admitted possession and use of the remains of Indigenous and enslaved people, as the museum faces criticism about the legality and the ethics of these acquisitions. Either way, the venture feels successful. I visited the show twice, on a Thursday evening and on a Monday morning, and each time the gallery was filled with visitors.The show is beautifully laid out. It’s installed in a small, dark, semicircular gallery, with jewelry in vitrines spotlighted against a black acetate and Plexiglas. The diamonds glint and coruscate as you move across the displays. One could linger, bedazzled and charmed by the bold inventiveness of pieces like ASAP Rocky’s EXO grenade pendant — its “pin” sets the time — displayed on two disks set inside a locket. However, the exhibition offers more, including the concealed and paradoxical implications of wearing these constellations of bling.In a small, dark, semicircular gallery, jewelry is displayed in vitrines spotlighted against a black acetate and Plexiglas. Vincent Tullo for The New York TimesThe curators, Vikki Tobak, author of “Ice Cold: A Hip-Hop Jewelry History,” Kevin “Coach K” Lee, a founder of the Quality Control music label, and Karam Gill, the director of a documentary on the subject, took the important step of historically situating hip-hop’s ostentatious display of wealth. They refer to an Asante chief in Ghana whose ceremonial dress consisted of copious amounts of gold (though the date of an image referenced turns out to be 2005, which makes the ancestral connection vague).Shrewdly, the curators also name check each jeweler (when they are known), so they are properly recognized as collaborators and makers alongside the musical stars, such as Ghostface Killah’s eagle bracelet by Jason Arasheben — a massive 14 karat gold wrist cuff with an eagle alighting onto it. The Notorious B.I.G.’s Jesus necklace, made by Tito Caicedo of Manny’s New York, is another icon. It features the head and neck of a figure in gold whose beard, locks, clothing and crown are festooned with diamonds. In terms of the meaning they convey, these chains do a lot of heavy lifting.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    LL Cool J Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop. (And Why Would He?)

    At a dusty studio space in an industrial corner of Los Angeles, LL Cool J bounced and vibed in black satin and bulging, size 13 Balenciaga boots.The actor and rap luminary was filming a video for a sexy track, “Proclivities,” from his new album — but he wasn’t in front of the cameras, or rehearsing. He was just cheerfully shooting the you-know-what, with a late night of production ahead of him. Background players in feathered dresses floated by; his security circled. He did a little dance, demonstrating the inspiration for another song. He walks with a swagger and stands with a spring, too much rhythm in his 6-foot-3 frame to keep still. “Making fantasies happen,” he said, grinning, taking all of it in.LL Cool J is 56, and has been a hip-hop eminence for 40 years: His whole life is a stretch into realizing the improbable, including a sneakily successful pivot into network television. Even before adulthood, he strode with a preternatural confidence in his abilities, and a willingness to dig into the work. His rap career is not now — and, to hear him tell it, has never been — about the money, the trappings of celebrity or the cultural prestige.“I do it because I love it,” he said. “I love a fresh beat. A new lyric, a chord, the feeling — and then sharing that. Putting that on the easel of life, so to speak, for people to walk through the sonic gallery and listen to this, these vibes. I love that. I wanted my voice to be heard, and I wanted to share.”Because he started so young, the first to sign to the then-fledgling label Def Jam, when he was just 16 — and when hip-hop itself was only a decade old — he influenced an entire pantheon of artists who followed, including contemporaries his same age. Hits like the bruising, Grammy-winning “Mama Said Knock You Out,” from 1990, and plaintive grooves from his lovelorn Lothario persona (“I Need Love”; “Around the Way Girl”), cemented his legacy as a crossover pop superstar.LL Cool J outside a concert in the late 1980s. He was the label Def Jam’s first signing, when he was just 16 years old.Michael Ochs Archives/Getty ImagesWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More