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    Rick Derringer, 77, Who Sang ‘Hang On Sloopy’ and ‘Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo,’ Dies

    A Zelig-like rocker, the guitarist, singer and songwriter collaborated with the likes of Barbra Streisand and Peter Frampton and composed Hulk Hogan’s “Real American” theme.Rick Derringer, the ubiquitous rocker who sang the hit songs “Hang On Sloopy” and “Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo” in a music career that spanned several decades and also included collaborations with Hulk Hogan and Weird Al Yankovic, died on Monday in Ormond Beach, Fla. He was 77.His longtime caretaker and friend, Tony Wilson, announced his death in statement on Tuesday. No cause was given.From his early garage rock success to his many contributions to albums or tours by music royalty — Barbra Streisand, Cyndi Lauper and Peter Frampton all enlisted him — Mr. Derringer introduced himself to audiences across several generations.One of his better-known and enduring collaborations was with the Edgar Winter Group, for which he produced the instrumental chart-topper “Frankenstein,” which the band released in 1972.Early on, Mr. Derringer was the shaggy-haired guitar impresario who was the frontman for the band the McCoys, who rose to the top of the Billboard singles chart in October 1965 with their catchy rendition of “Hang On Sloopy.”The song, about a girl known as Sloopy from a rough part of town, has become synonymous with Ohio State University, where the marching band first played it during a Buckeyes’ football game in 1965. In 1985, the Ohio Legislature adopted it as the official state rock song.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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    Looking Back at Lollapalooza 1995

    Revisit a peak music festival with songs by Hole, Beck, Elastica and more.Michael Robinson Chavez/The Boston Globe via Getty ImagesDear listeners,Hi, I’m David Malitz, an editor on the Culture desk who has been writing or assigning music coverage for almost 20 years now. As summer festival season kicks into high gear, I’m thinking about the best music festival I ever attended: Lollapalooza 1995. Unlike today, when there’s seemingly a different mega-festival each weekend, 30 years ago there was really only one major player. Lollapalooza was both a mainstream touring behemoth and the embodiment of alternative culture that ruled the ’90s.When people (like me, often, I’m sorry) speak of the glory days of the ’90s, Lollapalooza 1995 was both the peak and the end of the road. We still had it plenty good for a while, but this tour did feel like a last gasp. Looking at the lineup now, it seems like a great college radio playlist, but not exactly a shed-filling financial success. The festival pivoted away from underground rock the following year and went on hiatus after its journey into electronica in 1997.To celebrate 30 years of this inspired collection of bands, here’s a playlist of songs from the acts that performed on the tour’s main stage, with a couple of bonus tracks from the not-to-be-missed second stage.Time takes its crazy toll,DavidListen along while you read.1. Sonic Youth: “The Diamond Sea”If it seems weird now that a famously iconoclastic band without even a single gold record to its name headlined a festival playing to upward of 25,000 people at each stop, it was weird then, too. Chalk it up to something of a lifetime achievement award for the New York legends who influenced acts down the rest of the bill.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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    Why Isn’t My Favorite Composer More Popular?

    I love the operas of Leos Janacek. So do audiences — when they go to see them. But the works remain stubbornly on the outskirts of the repertory.When I was just getting started as an operagoer, I went to see “The Makropulos Case,” the Czech composer Leos Janacek’s tale of a woman desperate to elongate a life that has already lasted three centuries.It left me exhilarated, dazed and with only one thing on my mind: buying a ticket to return the next weekend.I’m not the only one to have this reaction. “People felt they had to come back,” Yuval Sharon said recently about the audiences when he directed “The Cunning Little Vixen,” another thrilling, heart-rending Janacek opera. “It was unlike any piece they’d experienced. It just seizes you.”That’s still my feeling about Janacek’s operas. On Sunday, when the Cleveland Orchestra finished an elegant but crushing concert version of “Jenufa,” which ends with a vision of forgiveness and reconciliation after extraordinary suffering, I would have happily sat through it again, right then and there.The end of ‘Jenufa’Elisabeth Söderström and Wieslaw Ochman; Vienna Philharmonic; Charles Mackerras, conductor (Decca)For this brutal account of small-town woe, Janacek wrote earthy, lush yet sharply angled music, with unsettled rhythms and roiling depths. There are obsessively repeated motifs, as anxious as the characters, as well as passages of folk-inspired sweetness.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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    At Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs Trial, Former Employee Expected to Describe Being Kidnapped

    Prosecutors are set to present the testimony of a onetime assistant, who they say was twice held against her will. The defense denies she was kidnapped.A former employee of Sean Combs who, prosecutors say, was kidnapped twice by the music mogul or his bodyguards, is expected to testify on Tuesday at Mr. Combs’s racketeering and sex-trafficking trial.The woman, Capricorn Clark, has been a frequent character in testimony at the trial, figuring prominently in the much-discussed fallout over Mr. Combs’s discovery that Casandra Ventura, his longtime on-and-off girlfriend, and the rapper Scott Mescudi, known as Kid Cudi, were romantically involved.The government contends that after Mr. Combs discovered evidence of the budding relationship in late 2011, he went — armed and with a bodyguard — to wake up Ms. Clark in the middle of the night and force her to take them to Mr. Mescudi’s home. On Thursday, Mr. Mescudi gave his account of Mr. Combs’s jealous meltdown, which he said escalated to his Porsche being set on fire with a Molotov cocktail in early 2012.Lawyers for Mr. Combs, who has pleaded not guilty to all of the charges, have denied Mr. Combs’s involvement in any kidnapping or arson — and have said there was never any criminal conspiracy. They assert that Ms. Ventura and another woman that Mr. Combs is accused of sex trafficking are not victims, but rather former girlfriends who agreed to participate in sex that, while “kinky,” was entirely consensual and legal.Capricorn Clark, a former employee of Mr. Combs, is expected to testify this week.U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Southern District of New YorkThe kidnapping accusations are meant to buttress the racketeering conspiracy charge against Mr. Combs, which accuses him and members of his inner circle of a series of crimes dating back to 2004. The crimes cited in the indictment include sex trafficking, arson, drug violations, bribery, obstruction of justice and two acts of kidnapping — both of them involving Ms. Clark.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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    The Return of Pulp, a Serious Band That Doesn’t Take Itself Seriously

    The Britpop group led by Jarvis Cocker reunited for “More,” its first album since 2001. The stakes are different, the band more mature and the songs still thoughtful.Jarvis Cocker can opine. The mop-topped, bespectacled frontman of Pulp, the beloved Britpop act, is in demand as a conversationalist for the canny turns of phrase and pungent references that also animate his lyrics.Get him into a room with his bandmates — he and the three longest-running members had gathered last month at the Barbican Center in central London to talk about their newest album — and he will gladly unspool about what undergirds pop (“repressed feelings”) and the unexpected strife of band life: “You can’t get insurance! It’s loads more expensive for a musician.”Then there’s the threat posed by streaming. “We’re in a situation now where you could live your whole life without ever listening to a piece of music more than once; you can just let it all just go past you, in a kind of scented candle vibe,” he said with horror.Pulp, as the name suggests, is more visceral than that, with wryly observed dance-floor anthems that explore the social pecking order, like the enduring 1995 track “Common People.” What “made Pulp songs interesting,” Cocker said he realized lately, is that “they’re often quite frantic, trying to get some idea across or to work something out in your mind. Hysterical, sometimes, almost.”That propelled them through their ’90s heyday, anyway. But “More,” Pulp’s first record in nearly a quarter-century, out June 6, has a different thrust: more introspective, more room to breathe. When he played it in the offices of Rough Trade, Pulp’s label, “Someone said, oh, that’s very age appropriate,” Cocker, 61, recalled. “I took it as a compliment.”Sitting around a long conference table at the Barbican, the cultural center where they had gigged over the years, his bandmates — Candida Doyle, the keyboardist; Mark Webber, the guitarist; and Nick Banks, the drummer — mostly jibed with their songwriter and semi-democratic leader. But they did sometimes laugh (affectionately) at him.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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    Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs Trial Draws Long Lines and Limited Seating

    Without any livestreaming of the often graphic testimony, securing space inside the federal courtroom has meant long lines and long waits.Hours before sunset, the line begins to form outside the Daniel Patrick Moynihan United States Courthouse in Lower Manhattan. By the time the sun has risen again, some 13 hours later, the sidewalk is quite full.Queue psychologists, who study things like how to keep the hordes happy in lines at Disney World, would have a field day at the trial of Sean Combs.Since the trial started two weeks ago, folks have been showing up at ungodly hours to wait for a seat in the room where the music mogul is facing racketeering conspiracy and sex-trafficking charges, to which he has pleaded not guilty.News reporters assigned to cover the trial are joined in equal numbers by vloggers who have made the case their subject of the moment and members of the public who are simply interested in hearing the courtroom testimony.During the first two days of the trial, when the crowds were bigger, one YouTuber, Mel Smith, said he would leave his house in Beacon, N.Y., at about 3:30 p.m. to get a seat for the next morning’s testimony. When he arrived at about 5 p.m., he said, there were already a half-dozen people waiting in front of him.“Everybody knows P. Diddy — he’s a household brand — and everybody’s clicking all day to see what’s the latest updates,” he said.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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    If You Want a Seat at the Trial of Sean Combs, Leave Yesterday

    Without any livestreaming of the often graphic testimony, securing space inside the federal courtroom has meant long lines and long waits.Hours before sunset, the line begins to form outside the Daniel Patrick Moynihan United States Courthouse in Lower Manhattan. By the time the sun has risen again, some 13 hours later, the sidewalk is quite full.Queue psychologists, who study things like how to keep the hordes happy in lines at Disney World, would have a field day at the trial of Sean Combs.Since the trial started two weeks ago, folks have been showing up at ungodly hours to wait for a seat in the room where the music mogul is facing racketeering conspiracy and sex-trafficking charges, to which he has pleaded not guilty.News reporters assigned to cover the trial are joined in equal numbers by vloggers who have made the case their subject of the moment and members of the public who are simply interested in hearing the courtroom testimony.During the first two days of the trial, when the crowds were bigger, one YouTuber, Mel Smith, said he would leave his house in Beacon, N.Y., at about 3:30 p.m. to get a seat for the next morning’s testimony. When he arrived at about 5 p.m., he said, there were already a half-dozen people waiting in front of him.“Everybody knows P. Diddy — he’s a household brand — and everybody’s clicking all day to see what’s the latest updates,” he said.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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    Ute Lemper Still Sings Songs of Rebellion. The Stakes Are Still High.

    The German-born cabaret performer’s latest album celebrates the 125th anniversary of Kurt Weill’s birth, yoking classics to the language of today’s music.“Welcome to Weimar — to the year 2025,” Ute Lemper announced.The German-born singer and actress was greeting friends and colleagues who had squeezed into the Birdsong Society’s small headquarters by Gramercy Park to hear her perform songs from her latest album, which celebrates Kurt Weill, a composer Lemper has championed for four decades.Sliding into the album’s title number, “Pirate Jenny,” Lemper got even closer to a listener who had been standing just a few feet away, fixing him with a snarling grin. Featured in “The Threepenny Opera,” the most celebrated of Weill’s noted collaborations with the playwright Bertolt Brecht, the tune has been covered by artists from Nina Simone to Judy Collins. It’s also the only standard written from the perspective of a hotel maid waiting for a ship of pirates to arrive and, at her behest, murder all the guests.“It’s a song about revolution and rebellion,” Lemper explained in an interview before the event. The singer is less intimidating in conversation than she is when channeling bloodlust. She’ll turn 62 in July, and with her long, lean frame and impossibly high cheekbones, she still projects the cool beauty of a runway model.Lemper was perceived as something of a rebel herself, at least in her native country, when Decca Records released “Ute Lemper Sings Kurt Weill” in 1988. The album, which evolved from “a little fringe record I made in Berlin” a couple of years earlier, earned Lemper an international fan base — with one notable exception.“The Germans hated it,” Lemper recalled. “They weren’t interested in speaking about the past.” Decca’s chief executive at the time, Roland Kommerell, German himself, had started a project dedicated to bringing back music that had been banned under the Nazis, including classical symphonies and Weimar-era cabaret songs — music composed by Jews who were persecuted or, like Weill, forced into exile.“It was a huge chapter to rip open; it was still bleeding at the time,” Lemper said. “And suddenly, I was in the position to have to respond to hundreds of journalists about this music. I became almost the representative of my generation, the Cold War generation, in Germany.”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