More stories

  • in

    Claire Chase Uses Her New Platform to Showcase a Hero

    When the composer and performer Pauline Oliveros died in 2016, at 84, her reputation in music was secure.Her early electronic and tape-music pieces from the 1960s and ’70s are widely seen as key contributions to post-World War II American experimentalism. Oliveros’s solo shows, on a tricked-out digital accordion, were destination concerts at New York spaces like the Stone well into the 2010s. And the influence of her writing on the topic of “deep listening” had taken root in the academy.Yet at the time of her death, Oliveros had never received a formal showcase of her work at Carnegie Hall. So when the flutist Claire Chase began planning the first shows of her residency there, in her role as this season’s Debs Creative Chair, a corrective move seemed both obvious and overdue.On Saturday, Chase will present a program called “Pauline Oliveros at 90,” followed by two “Day of Listening” events the next morning and afternoon. “I really wanted,” Chase said, “to give the megaphone to the woman who made possible the lives in music that we have.”Oliveros with her digital accordion at Issue Project Room in 2013.Richard Termine for The New York TimesShe was talking about the wide network of players who have drawn inspiration from Oliveros’s example — but also the specific nucleus of artists she described as the composer’s “musical offspring.” They will share the stage at the Saturday concert, a program of two Oliveros text scores: “The Witness” and “The Tuning Meditation.”At a rehearsal of “The Witness” on Wednesday, Chase and her cohort created spellbinding effects while navigating the three “strategies” that Oliveros’s score outlines. In the first section, performers are asked to play only what comes from their own imaginations, without respect to what else is heard in the room; Chase described it as “the opposite of a feel-good meditation.”In the second strategy, they are instructed to interact as spontaneously as possible with one another. Then the highly idealistic third strategy asks musicians to perform “inside of the time, exactly with the time, or outside the time” of a partner’s playing. Chase said that when she once asked Oliveros what that meant, she was told that it was merely an invitation to be telepathic. “She was dead serious,” Chase recalled, “with a smile on her face.”On Sunday, audience members will be able to join the conceptual jamboree using their voices, slide whistles and the Adaptive Use Musical Instrument technology that Oliveros pioneered with an eye to helping children with a limited range of movement produce music.The artist Ione — Oliveros’s widow and longtime collaborator — said that while the technology was designed for children with “the least availability of movement,” it is also “wonderful for anybody.” That crossover application is, to Ione, part of Oliveros’s legacy: “Bringing people together for sound and music and play and fun. Pauline was as playful and fun as she was serious.”In interviews, four musicians featured in this weekend’s concerts offered their memories of Oliveros and her music. Here are edited excerpts from the conversations.Musicians who were in Oliveros’s orbit gathered this week to rehearse for Chase’s concert on Saturday.Hilary Swift for The New York TimesClaire Chase, flutistI did meet Pauline when I was a toddler. I have these beautiful memories of her playing her accordion — often barefoot — at concerts at the University of California, San Diego, where my parents would drag me because they couldn’t find child care. She was freer and more unfettered in her skin than anyone I’d ever met.It wasn’t until the late 1990s when I reconnected with her, when she was a visiting artist at Oberlin, where I was an undergrad. We were all on a treadmill toward what we thought would be careers in symphony orchestras. She asked — I have to do it in her Texan drawl — “Can you hear beyond the edges of your own imagination?” It wasn’t just like the ceiling opened up for me. It was like the walls dissolved completely. I found myself totally exhilarated and terrified, and suddenly wondering what else I wasn’t learning in conservatory.Susie Ibarra, composer and percussionistThere’s quite an array of Pauline’s music, between the stuff that she did later, for large ensembles, and earlier recordings that were solo. And then her text scores. There are many points of entry. I just love them all for different reasons.I’m very sentimental about coming to celebrate her at Carnegie Hall, as the first time I played there, it was to play her piece “All Fours for the Drum Bum.” It’s a practice in non-repetitive rhythm and texture. She was always somebody who was a great inspiration, and a mentor who offered such support. We did go into the studio and record duets, but we never released it. I was busy, sure, but she was extraordinarily busy toward the end. I think it’s probably at the right moment to release now.I was so fortunate to play a lot with Pauline as an improviser — and we had a quintet called New Circle Five, which recorded one album, “Dreaming Wide Awake.” She was so playful. Especially when she had her digital accordion; you never knew which “instrument” was going to come out. It was a constant surprise.Alex Peh, pianistMy entrance into contemporary music was a really social one. I’m a professor of piano. But I’m dear friends with Phyllis Chen — and when we did her residency at SUNY New Paltz, Pauline came down. We got the students all jazzed up on her “Sonic Meditations.” That’s when I started doing a lot of contemporary music.I played with Claire on Susie’s album “Talking Gong.” We did the online release, then we had some extra time. We were at a barn upstate, and Claire was just like, “Let’s jam.” So we read “The Witness,” and it all started there. After that, we started improvising in the woods, at the Mill Brook Preserve. We did it in caves, just looking for inspirations. This was in the pandemic; we were all sort of frayed and flustered. And now it’s spun into this.Since that time, I’ve explored piano styles throughout the world. I’ve been doing a lot of work with piano traditions in Myanmar. I’m doing a lot of work with Persian piano. Playing “The Witness” catalyzed this. Before that, I was just playing standard repertoire. I met Pauline, and it kind of unlocked curiosity. She gives permission to explore.Tyshawn Sorey, composer and percussionistMy piece “Bertha’s Lair” was commissioned by Claire for her Density 2036 project. And the day we were scheduled to rehearse that piece — and the day it was completed — I went over to the studio where we were going to rehearse it. Within five minutes of arriving there, we found out the news that Pauline had passed. So we hugged for long time; we didn’t even play. We just talked about Pauline the entire evening.It came out in the interpretation of the music, when we finally rehearsed the piece and played it dozens of times. It was different every time. Yet the spirit of Pauline would always remain over us, the way we both continued to take chances.In terms of Pauline’s sprit: It’s about this openness and trust. This way of becoming through making music and being present at all times. No matter what a particular score of hers would say, it certainly demands a different kind of consciousness on the part of the performer to be able to execute. It would put the performer in a place where they’ve probably never been before. More

  • in

    Review: The Unaffected Excellence of the Cleveland Orchestra

    One of the finest American ensembles returned to Carnegie Hall with a program that made its argument persuasively, but without force.Classical music is an art form that can’t help having one foot in the past and an eye on its family tree. You hear about piano teachers who can trace their techniques back to Beethoven, or composers who realize only after the fact that Debussy has crept into their writing. Lineage is crucial; influence, inevitable.It’s an observation that was made with gentle persuasiveness by the Cleveland Orchestra and Franz Welser-Möst, its longtime music director, at Carnegie Hall on Wednesday. With the casual excellence that has made this ensemble, at least on a technical level, the finest in the United States, they assembled movements from Berg’s “Lyric Suite” and Schubert’s “Unfinished” Symphony into a five-section study in juxtapositions.Versions of this have been done; the conductor Raphaël Pichon and his group, Pygmalion, broke up the “Unfinished” and surrounded it with a sweeping Romantic collage on last year’s album “Mein Traum” — a nod to Schubert’s biography, and to the cultural world in which this work was created. But the musical connections on Wednesday were fewer, and more focused.Neither the Berg nor the Schubert is whole. The orchestrated form of the “Lyric Suite,” originally for string quartet, contains three of its six sections, and the “Unfinished” was never completed beyond the first two movements. Both products of Vienna, more than a century apart, they nevertheless share a quiet intensity, as well as expressiveness shaded by longing and melancholy. As tends to be the case with pairings like this, Schubert comes out sounding more innovative; and Berg, who here doesn’t write with a wholesale use of dodecaphonic style, more reverential.In its version for string orchestra — and particularly with five rows of violins on Wednesday — the Berg has an operatic edge, but under the baton of Welser-Möst, an often measured technician, the opening Andante amoroso was smartly balanced rather than exploited for dramatic effect. He continued into the first movement of the Schubert without pause, carrying the previous work’s subtle momentum through the symphony’s flowing melodies and the soft syncopations of its not-quite-waltzing second subject. Heard so closely with the “Lyric Suite,” the development stood out for its flashes of the future: harmonic language that would flourish at the height of Romanticism.It wasn’t so jarring, then, to return to the Berg — its whispering Allegro misterioso here like a distant and distorted memory emerging into consciousness, its quietness befitting the second movement of the Schubert, which ended with a halo of serenity. But Berg had the last word with his Allegro appassionato, seeming to make explicit the pervasive yearning of Schubert and take its Romantic sentiment to a breaking point. Like the symphony, however, it ended in sustained stillness.The program featured a rarity in Schubert’s Mass in E flat, performed with five vocal soloists and members of the Cleveland Orchestra Chorus.Chris LeeFor the concert’s second half — Schubert’s Mass in E flat, a wellspring of beauty that is bafflingly underperformed in the United States — the stage was drastically more populated with the addition of five vocal soloists and members of the Cleveland Orchestra Chorus, an all-volunteer ensemble that behaves like an entirely professional one. Yet, in a miracle characteristic of the Clevelanders, this work had the sense of awe baked into its scale but the clarity of chamber music: the Latin text intelligible despite face coverings throughout the choir, the melodic line traveling with ease among the instruments.It’s not until the “Et incarnatus est” section of the Credo that the soloists enter (with a songlike theme of delicate longing that all but prefigures the aria “Nuit d’ivresse” from Berlioz’s “Les Troyens”). These roles, rarely employed throughout the Mass, were luxuriously cast: the tenors Julian Prégardien and Martin Mitterrutzner, the soprano Joélle Harvey, the mezzo-soprano Daryl Freedman and the bass-baritone Dashon Burton. But they were also artfully indistinct, behaving with a unified vision that gave way to egoless balance.The piece was not without its grandeur. Wednesday’s Sanctus was one of divine wonderment; the Agnus Dei resonated from the lower strings with the richness of an organ. But the “dona nobis pacem” of the final bars, begun at a fortissimo, quickly calmed to a glowing piano. The concert, as much as it was a web of connections, also made the argument that music doesn’t need a showy climax to win over an audience. And neither does this orchestra.Cleveland OrchestraPerformed on Wednesday at Carnegie Hall, Manhattan. More

  • in

    Yukihiro Takahashi, Pioneer of Electronic Pop Music, Dies at 70

    A drummer and singer, he was best known as a member of Yellow Magic Orchestra, one of Japan’s most successful bands and a major influence on hip-hop, techno and New Wave.Yukihiro Takahashi, a drummer and vocalist whose wide artistic range and gleeful embrace of music technology made him a leading figure in Japan’s pop scene for nearly 50 years, most prominently with the Yellow Magic Orchestra, one of his country’s most successful musical acts, died on Jan. 11 in Karuizawa, Japan. He was 70.The cause was aspiration pneumonia, a complication of a brain tumor, his management company said in a statement.Mr. Takahashi and Yellow Magic Orchestra, which he founded in 1978 with the musicians Ryuichi Sakamoto and Haruomi Hosono, were often ranked alongside the German electronic group Kraftwerk as pioneers in electronic music and significant influences on emergent genres like hip-hop, New Wave and techno.Yellow Magic Orchestra was among the first bands to employ in live shows devices like the Roland TR-808 Rhythm Composer and the Moog II-C synthesizer, which they used to complement Mr. Hosono’s funky guitar and Mr. Takahashi’s tight, driving drums.Unlike their German counterparts, who leaned into the avant-garde nature of electronic sound and referred to themselves as automatons, Yellow Magic Orchestra found ways to bend it toward pop music, blending in elements of Motown, disco and synth-pop.In a 1980 appearance on the television show “Soul Train,” the band performed a souped-up version of Archie Bell and the Drells’ “Tighten Up,” after which a bemused Don Cornelius, the show’s host, interviewed Mr. Takahashi. Kraftwerk, it might go without saying, never appeared on “Soul Train.”Mr. Takahashi “was remarkably skilled at taking what were obviously artificial, technologically mediated sounds and using them to build songs that sound fully and organically human,” Michael K. Bourdaghs, a professor of Japanese literature and culture at the University of Chicago, said in a phone interview.The band and its tech-inflected sound arrived at just the right time. Japan had long since remade itself as a postwar economic engine, but by the late 1970s it was becoming something else: a global emblem of techno-utopianism and futuristic cool. Sony released the Walkman in 1979, just as Kenzo Takada and Issey Miyake were taking over Paris fashion runways with their playful, visionary designs.Yellow Magic Orchestra’s eponymous debut album, released in 1978, sold more than 250,000 copies; its 1980 sophomore release, “Solid State Survivor,” sold some one million. Six of the band’s seven studio albums reached the top five in the Japanese pop charts, and all of them provided fodder for covers and samples far beyond Japan.Afrika Bambaataa, 2 Live Crew, J Dilla and De La Soul were among the many acts who borrowed liberally from Yellow Magic Orchestra’s archive. Michael Jackson remade its song “Behind the Mask,” though his version was not released until 2010, after his death.The band’s music also inspired composers of early video game soundtracks who were looking for electronic sounds that could remain compelling even after hours of play. Yellow Magic Orchestra titled the first track on its debut album “Computer Game ‘Theme from The Circus,’” and Mr. Takahashi later wrote music for several games.He and his bandmates were already established musicians when they formed Yellow Magic Orchestra, and they continued to release solo projects during the group’s six-year run. Mr. Takahashi released some 20 albums during his career, not counting numerous remastered reissues and live recordings.Neither he nor the band ever sat still artistically. His first group, the Sadistic Mika Band, brought glam and prog rock to Japan in the early 1970s and was among the first Japanese acts to achieve success outside the country — it toured Britain with Roxy Music and played on the BBC.Mr. Takahashi’s 1978 solo album, “Saravah!,” produced by Mr. Sakamoto, drew on bossa nova and reggae influences, while the album “Yellow Magic Orchestra” later that year tweaked Orientalist stereotypes, most notably in a cheeky cover of Martin Denny’s tiki-inspired “Firecracker.”Yukihiro Takahashi, in hat and shades, performing with Yellow Magic Orchestra in New York City in 1979.Ebet RobertsBoth before and after Yellow Magic Orchestra, Mr. Takahashi was a frequent and eager collaborator, forming bands on the fly and bringing in friends to play on individual tracks. He often worked with the British guitarist and singer Bill Nelson, as well as Andy Mackay and Phil Manzanera of Roxy Music.Mr. Takahashi wrote much of the music played by Yellow Magic Orchestra; he also played drums and sang lead vocals, though many of their songs were instrumentals.His voice was rich and louche, strikingly similar to that of Bryan Ferry of Roxy Music, especially on early hits like “Drip Dry Eyes” (1984). He sported a pencil mustache and, in later years, a fedora and thick-rimmed eyeglasses. Like Mr. Ferry, he came across as effortlessly cool and ever-so-slightly world-weary, a hipster who believed in better days to come.“We had hope for the future, unlike now,” Mr. Takahashi said in a 2009 interview, seated between Mr. Sakamoto and Mr. Hosono. “We used to say we will make music that’ll be a bridge to the future.”Yukihiro Takahashi was born on June 6, 1952, in Tokyo. He began his music career early, playing drums with college bands while still in junior high school and starting as a session musician at 16.He is survived by his wife, Kiyomi Takahashi; his brother, Nobuyuki Takahashi, a music producer; and his sister, Mie Ito.He studied design at Musashino Art University in Tokyo, but did not graduate. During the 1970s, he developed his own clothing line, Bricks; he often designed the outfits worn by Yellow Magic Orchestra, including a striking trio of bright red Mao suits.Yellow Magic Orchestra broke up in 1984, its members citing musical differences. All three went on to successful solo careers — Mr. Sakamoto won an Academy Award for his soundtrack to Bernardo Bertolucci’s “The Last Emperor” (1987) — but they remained close, and occasionally reunited. They released an album in 1993, “Technodon,” and appeared at a 2012 benefit concert to oppose nuclear power.“We followed a rock band path, so we stopped” playing as Yellow Magic Orchestra, Mr. Takahashi said in 2009. “But on second thought,” he added, nodding toward his bandmates on either side of him, “I couldn’t think of anybody I respect more.”Miharu Nishiyama More

  • in

    ‘Jam Van’ Dares to Ask: What if Family Road Trips Were Actually Fun?

    A new travel series featuring a diverse array of beloved musical artists uses original tunes to help children navigate the world.Few family expeditions are more fraught than long-distance road trips. What parent hasn’t longed to take the kids on a highway journey that is free of bored whines, back-seat battles and the terrifying possibility of having to put “Baby Shark” on endless repeat?Now a new series aims to fulfill that dream: “Jam Van,” on the YouTube Originals for Kids & Family channel and the YouTube Kids app, stakes out novel territory as a tune-filled travel show for children. In each of the season’s eight episodes — the first two will be released at noon Eastern time on Thursday, and a new one each Thursday thereafter — young viewers become the touring companions of Lamb, a detail-obsessed sheep, and Anne, a free-spirited alligator. Together, they explore a distinctive American city (and, in one case, a wide swath of a state) in their sky blue S.U.V.“I felt like this was the best way to sort of make something funny and interesting, both visually and sonically,” said Bill Sherman, one of the series’s creators and a Tony Award-winning music orchestrator and composer whose credits range from “Hamilton” (he won a Grammy as a producer of the original Broadway cast recording) to “Sesame Street” (he is that show’s Emmy-winning music director).Anne and Lamb’s 10- to-12-minute adventures in locations like Seattle, Nashville, Los Angeles and New Orleans involve landmarks, culture, food and, most important, music. On these road trips, however, moms and dads need not cover their ears: Musical artists including Lin-Manuel Miranda, Brandi Carlile, Sheryl Crow, Fitz and the Tantrums and Trombone Shorty portray themselves in live action, serenading the cartoon heroes with an original song created for each destination.The series’s animation is a pastiche of real-world footage, live-action performances, stop-motion animation and computer animation.YouTube Originals Kids & FamilyIn some episodes, like the one set in Virginia, featuring the band Old Crow Medicine Show, the artists have written the central tune’s music or lyrics (or both) themselves; in others, they perform the work of an eminent composer like Butch Walker, who wrote the song for Sheryl Crow, or Sherman himself.The result, Sherman said, is “music that you don’t often hear in kids’ shows,” including hip-hop, ’70s funk, bluegrass and country indie tunes.In a joint video interview, Sherman and Brian Hunt, the series’s other creator, explained how they made their show look different, too. Working with the Vancouver animation studio Global Mechanic, they invented a freewheeling collage of styles. Anne, Lamb and the animals’ Grumpy GPS — the series’s own Oscar the Grouch — are computer-animated, while the Big Book of Travel, a talking tome, is stop-motion. In addition to the live-action footage of music stars, the production team included pop-up cameos of children, who offer intriguing details about the destinations.To create the regional backdrops, Hunt said, “we took thousands of photographs in the actual cities” that were treated to give them a “heightened look.” The images include vivid views of the Hollywood sign, the Guggenheim Museum and the Liberty Bell.But the two men, who are fathers and close friends, intend “Jam Van” to be more than sightseeing — a resolve that was heightened by their early brainstorms at the height of the Covid-19 pandemic. “No one could travel anywhere,” recalled Hunt, the president of Believe Entertainment Group, a producer of “Jam Van.” “And everybody was mad at each other.”The best buddies Anne and Lamb get mad at each other sometimes, too. (Grumpy GPS, voiced by the comedian Marc Maron, is almost always mad.) The series’s creators hope that through these characters’ interactions, children 4 and older can learn life skills and how to get along, both on and off the road.Anne is “really the one driving the ideas and the adventures,” said the comedian Nicole Byer, who voices the character. Lamb, voiced by the comic Pete Lee, “sometimes is like, ‘I don’t like that, that’s not a good idea,’” Byer added. Ultimately, she said, their friendship “is push-and-pull.”In each episode, the two travel companions face a problem, interpersonal or otherwise, that the segment’s song addresses. During the pilot, set in New York City, Anne grows frustrated when she can’t find her Uncle Salligator (who, naturally, turns out to live in the sewer). She and Lamb bump into Miranda, who sings and raps an encouraging strategy.“Building up a frustration tolerance in children so they can see their goals through to the end is such an important thing to do (as a parent, anyway),” Miranda wrote in an email.The Nashville episode also counsels persistence. Here, a mischievous armadillo keeps running away with the steel for Lamb’s steel guitar, and Crow’s vocal performance urges Lamb not to give up.In an episode set in his hometown, Oakland, Calif., Daveed Diggs advises Anne and Lamb on the importance of following directions.YouTube Originals Kids & Family“The power of song is that it sticks in your head,” said Daveed Diggs, who stars in an episode devoted to his hometown, Oakland, Calif. That segment’s vocal number, written by the rapper Phonte Coleman, with an additional verse by Diggs, focuses on the importance of following directions, using a catchy refrain.In choosing the artists who would perform the songs, “it wasn’t just about who was the biggest name,” Sherman said. “It was who worked well enough for our show, who could really fit in and make it work, because it wasn’t just about singing.”For the Seattle episode, the series’s second, the men sought out Carlile, not only because she’s from the area but also because of the plot they envisioned: Lamb and Anne, who is suffering an uncharacteristic bout of homesickness, meet an octopus whose “family” is a variety of species. Anne, realizing that friends can be as supportive as her own relatives, shakes off her melancholy.“I was just really inspired by the subject matter,” said Carlile, because, she added, “I’m part of a nontraditional family.” (She and her wife, Catherine Shepherd, have two daughters.) The song “One Sacred Thing,” a ballad about love that Carlile wrote and performs in the episode, emphasizes “that family comes in all different shapes and sizes,” she said.Brandi Carlile wrote and performs the “Jam Van” song “One Sacred Thing,” a ballad emphasizing “that family comes in all different shapes and sizes,” she said. YouTube Originals Kids & FamilyAs they put the episodes together, Sherman and Hunt also discovered an unexpected synergy. Frequently, Hunt said, the main characters’ “social-emotional challenge actually served as a great vehicle to help us explore the cities.”The conflict, for instance, that arises in Philadelphia, where Lamb is determined to stick to a schedule and Anne is desperate to eat, allowed the show’s creators to highlight that city’s quintessential dish (the cheese steak). The Philadelphia R&B vocal group Boyz II Men also introduced several Philly references to “The City of Brotherly Love,” the episode’s song about compromise.“We added Ishkabibble’s, which is a Philadelphia cheese steak spot in down south Philly,” said Wanyá Morris, a member of Boyz II Men. They also worked a signature local greeting into the start of the song, a hoot that sounds roughly like “Heer-yoh.”In addition to revising the musical number, the group’s members worked on being “relatable,” Morris said.The Philadelphia R&B group Boyz II Men helped write Philly-specific references into the song they sing for Anne and Lamb, including one for a beloved cheese steak restaurant.YouTube Originals Kids & FamilyThey wanted to act as if they were talking to their own children, he added, “so that the kids cannot look at us like, ‘Who are these old dudes singing to these cartoon characters?’”Including long-established artists, however, was part of a strategy to make “Jam Van” multigenerational viewing. The show also offers historical humor: At one point, Grumpy GPS even evokes the computer Hal in the film “2001: A Space Odyssey.”Craig Hunter, global head of kids and family for YouTube Originals, who acquired the series, praised it for offering insights into “various things that the everyday kid wasn’t necessarily aware of.” Although it is far too early to know if the show will have a second season, he acknowledged that the concept “has legs.”As for the creators of “Jam Van,” they’re already dreaming of places, artists and musical genres that haven’t yet been tapped.“K-pop?” Sherman said. “We’re ready to go.” More

  • in

    A Conductor on a Mission to Help Ukraine

    Before sunrise one day last week, the conductor Dalia Stasevska was deep in concentration in a Helsinki studio, ruminating on phrasing and transitions as she studied the score of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. Then, at 10 a.m., she put away her music and set out on a mission.Stasevska, 38, a Kyiv-born musician who lives in Finland, drove across Helsinki in search of power generators to send to Ukraine, where millions of people, including her friends and relatives, have faced electricity shortages because of Russia’s continuing attacks. Later, she visited a factory in central Finland to inspect hundreds of stoves that she plans to send to families hit hard by the war.“We can’t look away or get tired, because the war machine does not get tired,” she said in a video interview after the factory visit. “We have to be in this together and do everything we can for Ukraine.”Since the start of the war last year, Stasevska, a rising young conductor, has been navigating the roles of artist and activist.As the principal guest conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra in Britain and the chief conductor of the Lahti Symphony Orchestra in Finland, she maintains a busy concert schedule and makes frequent appearances in the United States. Starting Friday, she will lead the New York Philharmonic in a series of concerts featuring the violinist Lisa Batiashvili in the Tchaikovsky concerto.In between rehearsals and concerts, she devotes herself to promoting the cause of Ukraine. She said she has raised more than 200,000 euros (about $216,000) since the start of the invasion and has driven trucks loaded with supplies into the country. She is also a prolific commenter on social media, calling on Western governments to provide more weapons to Ukraine and denouncing Russia as a “terrorist state.”Stasevska conducing a concert of Ukrainian music in fall. Eager to bring a “moment of normality to a country where nothing is normal,” she said, she traveled to the city to deliver supplies and to conduct.via Unison MediaStasevska said that her aim was to continue to shine light on the suffering in Ukraine and to help bring an end to the war.“I can’t save Ukraine by playing music, but I can use my mouth and speak out, and I can act,” she said. “We can’t just hide behind our virtues. There comes a time for action.”Her colleagues say that Stasevska is eager to challenge the status quo both in the artistic realm and in life. Claire Chase, a prominent flutist and educator, described her as a “supernova,” praising her collaborative and commanding style.The State of the WarWestern Military Aid: Efforts to arm Kyiv have stepped up in recent weeks as the war enters a critical phase. So far missing from the new military aid infusion pledged by Western nations are American and German-made tanks that Ukraine’s leaders say are desperately needed.Helicopter Crash: A helicopter crashed in a fireball in a Kyiv suburb, killing a member of President Volodymyr Zelensky’s cabinet and more than a dozen other people, and dealing a blow to Ukraine’s wartime leadership.Dnipro: A Russian strike on an apartment complex in the central Ukrainian city was one of the deadliest for civilians away from the front line since the war began. The attack prompted renewed calls for Moscow to be charged with war crimes.“She is courageous on and off the podium,” Chase said, “the kind of person who will, under any circumstances, speak her mind, and I just have so much admiration for her.”Stasevska, the daughter of painters, grew up in Estonia and Finland, where her mother is from. But her relatives also nurtured her connection to Ukraine, her father’s home country. She learned Ukrainian, practiced folk songs and studied the country’s poetry, history and literature with her father and grandmother.She recalled being teased in school for her Ukrainian surname, but always felt proud of her identity.“Ukraine was always this beautiful place in my mind,” she said. “The way my family spoke of it, the apples were much bigger there than anywhere else in the world. It was this dream country filled with possibility, and with wonderful people.”When Stasevska was 8, her parents gave her a violin, telling her she could make a profession out of playing an instrument. But, she said, she didn’t feel emotional about music until she was 12, when a school librarian lent her a recording of Puccini’s “Madama Butterfly.” She had never heard an orchestra before, and was amazed by the power and drama of the score.“It spoke to my soul,” she said. “It was mind-blowing.”Stasevska near the Ukrainian Institute of America on the Upper East Side. She leads a series of concerts in New York, beginning Friday.Lanna Apisukh for The New York TimesShe set out to become a professional orchestra musician. As a teenager in her bedroom, she played along as she blasted Beethoven symphony recordings by giants like the conductor Herbert von Karajan.Then, when she was 20, she began to see another path. She was inspired after she saw a concert led by the conductor Eva Ollikainen; she had never seen a woman conduct before.“I saw a role model and someone who looked like me,” she said. “Suddenly I was thinking: ‘Wait a minute, I’m interested in scores, I love orchestra music. Why can’t I try this?’”She sought out the eminent Finnish conducting teacher Jorma Panula, cornering him in an elevator to ask if she could study with him. (Finland has produced a prodigious number of world-class conductors, and Panula has mentored many of them, including Esa-Pekka Salonen and Susanna Mälkki.) He pulled a receipt from his pocket, and wrote a phone number for her to contact the organizer of an upcoming master class.After graduating in 2012 from the Sibelius Academy, the storied conservatory in Helsinki, Stasevska began a steady rise, starting as an assistant to Paavo Järvi at the Orchestre de Paris. In 2019, she was appointed to her post at the BBC Symphony, and in 2020, she was selected to lead the Lahti Symphony.She made a memorable debut with the New York Philharmonic in 2021, leading a program that included works by Missy Mazzoli, Anthony Davis and John Adams. Seth Colter Walls, reviewing that performance in The New York Times, described her conducting as “powerful but never overly brash.”When the invasion began, Stasevska was devastated, concerned for the safety of her friends and family. Her brother was living in Kyiv and studying to be a movie director. She struggled to focus on music and resolved to cancel an appearance in March with the Seattle Symphony and take a break from conducting. But she changed her mind, she said, deciding she could use her platform to oppose the war.During the concert in Seattle, she made a speech about the war and led a performance of the Ukrainian national anthem. At one point during a loud passage of Dvorak’s “New World” Symphony, she said she let out a scream from the podium.“It was some kind of prehistoric need for me to yell,” she said. “It was horrible being in this situation where you don’t know if your brother will be alive the next morning.”Working with her two brothers, as well as the Ukrainian Association in Finland, she began soliciting donations to buy supplies. They have gathered contributions from thousands of people and have purchased generators, stoves, clothes, sleeping bags, vehicles and other items.In the fall, eager to bring a “moment of normality to a country where nothing is normal,” she traveled to Lviv to deliver supplies and to lead a concert of Ukrainian music. She said it was important for Ukraine to promote its culture as a way of opposing Russia, citing the example of Sibelius, whose Second Symphony is on the Philharmonic program this week, and whose works around 1900 were often interpreted as yearnings for liberation from Czar Nicholas II. (She is married to the Finnish bass guitarist Lauri Porra, a great-grandson of Sibelius.)“When a country is fighting for its freedom and harmony,” she said, “cultural identity is essential.”As Stasevska’s profile rises, she has been mentioned as a contender for a music director position in the United States. And, she said, she’s interested.Deborah Borda, the New York Philharmonic’s president and chief executive, called her a “dynamic podium presence demonstrating a welcome combination of power and warmth, but with no compromise.” She praised her debut with the Philharmonic, noting that she was able to pull it off with only one rehearsal in the hall, on the day of the concert.“That took courage, equanimity, flexibility and pure technique,” Borda said. “She is a prime example of today’s ‘ready for action’ rising women conductors.”As the fighting continues in Ukraine, music has offered Stasevska an escape, she said in an interview this week in New York. Still, she said she sometimes finds it difficult to perform works by Russian composers, including Tchaikovsky. She copes by reminding herself that the composers she admires are not responsible for the war.“I really have hope; I know that Ukraine will win one way or the other,” she said. “We just have to be human in this moment and do the right thing.” More

  • in

    Prosecutors Say Young Thug’s YSL Is Both Gang and Rap Label

    Listen to This ArticleTo hear more audio stories from publications like The New York Times, download Audm for iPhone or Android.ATLANTA — Day after day, the young men came before a judge, handcuffed, clad in county jumpsuits and answering to their government names rather than their rap monikers: Slimelife Shawty, Unfoonk, Lil Duke and even the chart-topper Gunna, who is nominated for two Grammy Awards at next month’s ceremony in Los Angeles.Each pleaded guilty to a racketeering charge, some to other crimes. And each agreed, in open court, that the famed Atlanta rap crew they were associated with — YSL, headed by the enigmatic star Jeffery Williams, or Young Thug — was not only a renowned hip-hop collective, but also a criminal street gang.At the hearing for Slimelife Shawty, born Wunnie Lee, a prosecutor prompted him to acknowledge that his associates “have committed at least one of the following acts in the name of YSL: murder, aggravated assault, robbery, theft and/or illegal firearms possession.”“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. Lee, 24, said.The case has pitted law enforcement officials who say they are determined to stamp out a violent gang problem against those who see it as yet another moral panic inspired by rap, in a city with one of the most vibrant scenes in the nation. And it has once again raised questions about whether lyrics should only be taken as artistic expressions meant to portray a harsh reality, or as evidence of crimes.The guilty pleas by the four Atlanta rappers and four other men associated with YSL, all of whom are now free after seven months in jail on probation or with requirements that they meet special conditions, may have bolstered prosecutors’ blockbuster case against 14 other alleged members of the group, who are accused of conspiracy to commit racketeering, gang statute violations and more. Jury selection began last week, and the judge estimates that the trial could last six to nine months.Most remarkable among the remaining defendants is Mr. Williams, 31, whose iconoclastic mystique and psychedelic flow have landed him on pop hits, the “Saturday Night Live” stage and in Vogue. With a maximum 120-year sentence hanging over his head, the man who fans worldwide have come to love as Young Thug — but whom prosecutors describe as a cutthroat gang leader — is now facing the prospect of growing old in prison.Young Thug performed with Gunna (seated on piano) on “Saturday Night Live” in 2021, the year two albums headlined by Young Thug hit No. 1 on the Billboard 200 chart.Will Heath/NBC, via Getty ImagesThe indictment charges Mr. Williams with participation in criminal street gang activity and of furthering the interest of a criminal conspiracy through a number of illegal acts; it does not charge him individually with most of those acts, which include accusations that he rented the car used in the murder of a rival gang leader and provided safe harbor for those responsible after the killing.Mr. Williams has denied everything. “Jeffery is a kind, intelligent, hard-working, moral and thoughtful person,” his lawyer, Brian Steel, said in a statement, arguing that the rapper had been wrongly targeted by law enforcement because of his fictional persona. “Despite the unthinkable oppressive, impoverished and cruel conditions of his upbringing, he has been able to cultivate his creative genius to lawfully and ethically attain phenomenal worldwide success.”The case has deeply shaken the pop culture universe, especially in Atlanta, Mr. Williams’s hometown, which can stake a claim as the hip-hop capital of the world. Fans, fellow artists, record executives and influential figures including Stacey Abrams, who was the Democratic nominee for governor last year, have sounded notes of concern, even outrage.Some have accused the prosecutor, Fani T. Willis — the aggressive district attorney for Fulton County, a Black Democrat who is best known for pursuing the criminal investigation into postelection meddling in Georgia by former President Donald J. Trump — of applying a “gang stereotype” to Atlanta’s rap community, and putting Black art on trial.The case has prompted an outcry, given how artists from the poorest parts of Atlanta have shaped global popular music. Young Thug’s nickname and YSL’s slang term of choice — slime — has gone international, its “wipe your nose” hand gesture a popular N.F.L. celebration.But the recent admissions in court point to a parallel reality: In Atlanta, law enforcement officials say, it has become increasingly difficult to discern the difference between some rap crews and street gangs, and to disentangle where exactly the credibility-obsessed art form overlaps with criminality.Ms. Willis contends that Atlanta is suffering from a plague of gang violence, estimating — with a hazy explanation for the figures — that up to 80 percent of violent crimes in the area are committed by gang members. She says that an eight-year war between YSL and a rival gang known as YFN, headed by another major-label rap artist, has accounted for more than 50 incidents.But in a city with a well-established path from the hardest streets to a world of fame, fortune and major awards shows — often via songs that chronicle, and some argue glorify, an outlaw life of drugs and guns — the nature of gang culture is also mutating, according to the authorities, with social media and music increasingly important to establishing dominance and influence.So while many young Black men in Atlanta see an escape in turning their dire circumstances in neglected communities into hard-edged rap music, investigators say some of it serves to establish clout, inspire fear, recruit members and fund illegal activity.“We believe that Mr. Williams doesn’t sing about random theoretical acts — he sings about gang acts he’s a part of,” Don Geary, then a lawyer for the district attorney’s office, said in court last year.Authenticity, an always slippery but foundational concept in hip-hop, has taken on even greater significance in the internet age. In places like Atlanta, it is a crucial selling point for the unflinching style of hip-hop known as trap music, which builds on earlier iterations of gangster rap and centers on the drug trade.And on social media, fans follow not just the music, but the lives of rappers and their associates, keeping scorecards of beefs and scores settled, even rooting them on.“It feels like they’re playing Grand Theft Auto in real life, and people are commenting on a video of them playing Grand Theft Auto,” said Gerald A. Griggs, president of Georgia’s conference of the N.A.A.C.P.Blurring the lines between gangs and musicAtlanta was not traditionally a stronghold of the major national gangs that took root in prisons and cities like New York, Los Angeles and Chicago. But as a rapidly gentrifying city with some of the highest income inequality in the nation — and in a state with some of the laxest gun laws — gang culture has changed.Most common now, experts say, are what are known as “hybrid gangs”: looser constellations mixing members from various national sets, local crews and neighborhood cliques. These groups may have connections to the Bloods, Crips or Gangster Disciples, but often without their rules and hierarchies.While some traditional gangs, like the Mafia, are strict, top-down enterprises earning money through illicit business, the chief mission of today’s groups may be simply bolstering the brand.“That lack of structure makes it dangerous and unpredictable,” said Cara Convery, a former deputy district attorney for Fulton County who now runs a statewide unit targeting gangs. Money and territory remain important, she added, but “respect is still the primary currency of all of these gangs — it’s everything.”In places like Atlanta, law enforcement officials contend, it has become commonplace to align primarily with homegrown stars, who can offer aspirants prestige and money.“The new color lines,” said Marissa Viverito, a gang investigator in Ms. Willis’s office, “are the rappers.”The authorities say they are not targeting famous individuals or rap, a varied art form, writ large. Instead, they say, prosecutors hope to hold those at the top of the criminal food chain accountable, even when they overlap with a beloved, city-defining cultural product.Recent high-profile crimes said to be gang-related include the July 2020 killing of an 8-year-old girl; home break-ins targeting celebrities that have been tied to a recently indicted group called Drug Rich; and the December shooting deaths of two boys, ages 12 and 15, near the popular Atlantic Station mall.Fani T. Willis, the district attorney for Fulton County, contends that Atlanta is suffering from a plague of gang violence.Ben Gray/Associated PressMs. Willis is a seasoned prosecutor who took office in January 2021, amid a spike in homicides and growing unease about violent crime. Her work investigating Mr. Trump, which could result in indictments this year, has earned plaudits from liberals. But her focus on gangs has also made her a de facto ally of conservative leaders who have raised alarms about a statewide problem.Ms. Willis has expanded her anti-gang team and promised to make vigorous use of the state’s Street Gang Terrorism and Prevention Act and its Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations act, or RICO. She charged Mr. Williams, or Young Thug, under both laws, and has done the same for his rival Rayshawn Bennett, the rapper known as YFN Lucci, and his associates.Her beefed-up focus on gangs stands in contrast to other prosecutors, like George Gascón, the Los Angeles County district attorney, who in 2021 reduced, renamed and reorganized his office’s famous Hardcore Gang unit, moving away from a “purely prosecutorial model.”Ms. Willis has faced criticism for her hard-line approach to gangs, especially her office’s use of rap lyrics in indictments, which critics say raises First Amendment concerns.“People can continue to be angry about it,” Ms. Willis said at a news conference announcing the racketeering indictment against Drug Rich, which also included lyrics. “I have some legal advice: Don’t confess to crime on rap lyrics if you do not want them used. Or at least get out of my county.”Lawyers for Mr. Williams have called the practice unconstitutional, arguing it is “racist and discriminatory because the jury will be so poisoned and prejudiced.”Ms. Abrams, the prominent Democrat, said at a campaign appearance with the rapper 21 Savage last year that while “bad actors should be held accountable,” she did not believe that lyrics should be used as the basis for criminal charges. “The reality is we cannot thwart the entertainment industry in pursuit of justice,” she said.But the authorities argue that songs are no different than a text message or a confession, if the content can be tied to real-life events. (Prosecutors, for example, say that after YSL members fired on the home of YFN Lucci’s mother, Young Thug rapped, “I shot at his mommy, now he no longer mention me.”)“It’s a dangerous line,” said Ms. Convery, the gang prosecutor. “Art and expression and exaggeration surround all of this stuff.” However, she added: “If you are making music about the crime that you committed, I think it’s evidence. It would be crazy to leave that on the table.”Some critics are concerned that the justice system’s focus on young Black men seems to come at the expense of other issues, including Georgia’s white nationalist groups, and worry that Ms. Willis’s aggressive use of RICO statutes, which give prosecutors wide leeway, could wrap up innocent people.“When you blur the line between a criminal street gang and a music label, that could bring a lot of people into the net that don’t have anything to do with furthering criminal acts,” said Mr. Griggs, of the N.A.A.C.P.In a video interview from jail before his guilty plea, Mr. Lee, better known as Slimelife Shawty, said he had been wrongly ensnared by the scope of the case.Unlike other YSL defendants, some of whom were charged with murder, drug dealing and assault, he was accused of a single count: racketeering, or furthering YSL’s criminal enterprise by making music videos, posting online and rapping vague but threatening lyrics.At his Dec. 16 plea hearing, however, Mr. Lee confirmed that he had sent a message containing rat and brain emojis to a witness in a YSL-affiliated suspect’s murder case. Prosecutors interpreted this as a threat of violent retaliation.Mr. Lee was one of many young people who grew up along Cleveland Avenue, a desolate South Atlanta corridor, and were inspired by Mr. Williams and his transformation into the global star Young Thug.Rapping the often-violent content audiences wanted to hear, Mr. Lee said from jail, became “our main go-to to get out of this place.”A rap innovator on trialAccording to court documents, YSL was founded along Cleveland Avenue in late 2012 by Mr. Williams and two other men, both of whom have pleaded guilty in the case.But while the rapper’s defense team argues that he was repping Young Stoner Life, a fledgling record label and lifestyle brand, prosecutors say it was first Young Slime Life, an upstart criminal organization with ties to the national Blood offshoot Sex Money Murder.The battle with crosstown rivals YFN was sparked in 2015 with the murder of Donovan Thomas, known as Nut, a behind-the-scenes connector instrumental in the rap careers of YFN Lucci and Rich Homie Quan, a once-frequent collaborator of Young Thug.In the aftermath of the killing, the authorities say, many in the city picked sides as retaliatory shootings spilled across Atlanta.Prosecutors say Mr. Williams rented the car used during the fatal shooting of Mr. Thomas and then urged those involved to “lay low,” giving them cash and traveling with them to Miami, according to the guilty plea last month of a YSL founder charged in the case, Antonio Sledge.As law enforcement opened its investigation into the murder, Mr. Williams’s profile as a whimsical, genre-shifting musician — with attention-grabbing fashion sense that includes, in defiance of macho gangster stereotypes, wearing dresses — only grew.Last January, not long before the indictment, 300 Entertainment, the label that had signed Young Thug and his YSL imprint, sold to Warner Music for a reported $400 million.At a bail hearing last year, Kevin Liles, the chief executive of 300, was brought to tears on the stand describing Mr. Williams and “how good this guy is,” pointing to the rapper’s generosity and mentorship. He said in a statement on Wednesday: “Young Stoner Life Records is and always has been exclusively a recorded music partnership with Jeffery Williams. Nothing I’ve seen has changed my point of view.”But the authorities say Mr. Williams’s good deeds were a cover for his dark side. The case seeks to tie him to a spate of other violent crimes, including a 2015 tour bus shooting that targeted Lil Wayne, a one-time idol turned rival.Whether or not Young Thug is found to be YSL’s mastermind, there may be lasting consequences for members who publicly identified it as a gang. Artists who came up under him, like Mr. Lee and Gunna, born Sergio Kitchens, now face accusations of being snitches — a potentially fatal label for rappers who trade in toughness and loyalty.Mr. Kitchens, who like the others had agreed to testify as part of his plea deal, released a statement saying he would claim his Fifth Amendment privilege if called. And on Instagram, Mr. Lee said his plea did not tell the authorities anything they did not already know.“I admitted Young Slime Life was a gang ’cause it ain’t illegal for no group to be a gang,” he said, adding that he did not know anything about specific crimes. “Look it up.”As Slimelife Shawty, he teased, he would soon be rapping about all of it.Audio produced by More

  • in

    26 Years After Its Singer’s Sudden Death, Brainiac (Briefly) Returns

    The indie-rock band from Ohio was poised for a breakout when it lost its frontman, Tim Taylor, in a 1997 car accident. Now the group is releasing an EP of demos and taking the stage once again.On a late May morning in 1997, a mangled lamppost surrounded by the wreckage of a 1977 forest-green Mercedes-Benz stood near Lawn and North Main Streets in Dayton, Ohio. Tim Taylor, the 28-year-old leader of Brainiac, the city’s swiftly ascending synth-punk band, had been driving home alone from a local nightclub at about 3:25 a.m. when his car spun out of control, crashed and exploded in flames.Brainiac — often stylized as 3RA1N1AC — had recently toured with Beck, played Lollapalooza and recorded with Kim Deal, John Peel and Steve Albini. The group was known for its hyper-energetic live performances, where Taylor writhed across the stage. According to the band’s surviving members — the bassist Juan Monasterio, the guitarist John Schmersal and the drummer Tyler Trent — major labels, including Interscope and Elektra, were wooing the group with seven-figure offers. But when Taylor, the son of the cellist Linda Taylor and the jazz guitarist Terry Taylor, died in the accident, so did Brainiac, and the opportunities awaiting the band.In the ensuing years, the group’s influence was cited by figures as varied as Trent Reznor and Fred Armisen. “I still can’t think of an artist that approaches their flavor of mad science — clanging, clashing, vibrant, silly, scary, unafraid,” said Sadie Dupuis of the band Speedy Ortiz, who named her solo project Sad13 as a Brainiac tribute. She called the band’s mix of guitar heroics, processed screams and other experimentation “pure genius.”A 2019 documentary, “Brainiac: Transmissions After Zero,” revived interest in the group and helped reunite Monasterio, Schmersal and Trent. “The documentary was really cathartic,” Schmersal said in a phone interview. “Once the band was done, we all scurried away like ants from a magnifying glass. But we realized how much we enjoyed our friendship that dissipated by Timmy leaving.”With momentum from the documentary and downtime during the pandemic, Schmersal decided to finally open the Brainiac archives — old suitcases filled with cassettes, photos and ephemera. “In the past, whenever I’d open the suitcases, I’d spiral out of control, then run away,” he said. “But I started thinking about why I’ve held on to them for so long. And where they should go.”Now, 26 years after Taylor’s death, Brainiac is releasing “The Predator Nominate EP,” featuring nine never-before-heard demos, on Friday. “There’s an eight-track reel-to-reel floating around with old recordings, but no one knows where it is,” Schmersal said. “But ‘Predator Nominate’ is Brainiac’s last concerted effort, our last complete thought, before the end.”During the band’s brief run from 1992 to 1997, it released three full albums of chugging and sometimes sprawling punk that relied mostly on traditional rock instruments. Taylor, a singer, guitarist and keyboardist, also played a Moog, and often modulated his vocals with synths and effects, inspired by the Dayton funk innovator Roger Troutman. For its final EP, “Electro-Shock for President,” which arrived only weeks before Taylor’s death, Brainiac employed a more fully realized electronic palette that continues on “Predator Nominate.”“Brainiac went electronic when harsh rock music wasn’t really being interpreted via electronics,” said Kelley Deal of the Breeders, whose sister and bandmate, Kim, produced the 1995 Brainiac EP “Internationale.” “They were always more liberal with song structure, but they still made radio-friendly music. Only they made it electronic. And so aggressive.”“Predator Nominate,” which clocks in under 13 minutes, is more haunting than harsh. The title track channels early Cure recordings; “Smothered Inside” recalls Brainiac’s indie-rock beginnings; lighthearted synth vignettes like “The Game” balance sad, jarring songs like “Going Wrong”; and “Kiss the Dog” is a pop gem.The band’s unexpected release of previously unheard music comes with another surprise: a return to the road. Brainiac is playing a handful of U.S. dates and a brief tour of the United Kingdom with Mogwai, whose singer and guitarist, Stuart Braithwaite, shared a bill with the band in the mid-90s as a budding musician. “They were hands down the weirdest and most engaging band I’d seen,” Braithwaite wrote in his recent memoir. “Super melodic but incredibly obtuse.”Schmersal, who traditionally sang backup, will now serve as lead singer. “No one understands the nuances of this music like we do,” he said. “If we don’t perform it, you’ll never hear it this way.” The Dayton guitarist, vocalist and synth player Tim Krug, a student of the band for some 30 years, will join for the tour.Trent, the band’s drummer, emphasized that Taylor is irreplaceable. “For us, this is a way to still be in awe of Tim, to honor him, or else we wouldn’t do it. And I wish people could see how much joy and life and healing Tim’s mom gets out of this,” he said. “Tim was one in a million.”In the years since Brainiac’s premature end, Schmersal, who is now based in Palm Springs, Calif., founded the band Enon and went on to play with Caribou, Crooks on Tape and Vertical Scratchers. Monasterio, a freelance motion-graphics designer, moved to Los Angeles. Trent still lives in Dayton, where he serves as associate pastor at Lifepointe Church and director of a local nonprofit, Hope4 Kettering.Monasterio, who befriended Taylor in fifth grade, called the release “probably the final chapter on Brainiac,” and suggested others might take inspiration from it: “Maybe someone will tap into Tim’s genius and make something beautiful. I think Tim would want that, too.”He recalled a conversation with his bandmate that has eerie resonance today. “One time, I was out with Tim, and I remember him saying, ‘We have to rise like a phoenix from the flames,’” Monasterio remembered. “He was saying Brainiac had to be reborn in some way.” More

  • in

    SZA’s ‘SOS’ Holds No. 1 for a Fifth Week

    The R&B singer-songwriter remains in Billboard’s top spot with help from a music video inspired by Quentin Tarantino. The latest LP by the rapper YoungBoy Never Broke Again arrives at No. 9.With no major new challengers, “SOS,” the sophomore album by the R&B singer-songwriter SZA, holds at No. 1 on Billboard’s chart for a fifth straight week.Helped by a new music video for SZA’s song “Kill Bill,” inspired by Quentin Tarantino’s pair of films with the same title, “SOS” had the equivalent of 125,000 sales in the United States, unchanged from the week before, according to the tracking service Luminate.Since it came out, “SOS” has had the equivalent of 876,000 sales, and racked up about 1.1 billion streams. The last title to notch five times at No. 1 was Taylor Swift’s “Midnights,” over a six-week stretch last fall.“Midnights” holds at second place this week with 81,000 equivalents, followed by Metro Boomin’s “Heroes & Villains” (No. 3), Drake and 21 Savage’s “Her Loss” (No. 4), Bad Bunny’s “Un Verano Sin Ti” (No. 5) and Morgan Wallen’s “Dangerous: The Double Album” (No. 6).YoungBoy Never Broke Again, the super-prolific Louisiana rapper — he released a studio album, a compilation and six mixtapes last year alone — lands at No. 9 with his latest, “I Rest My Case,” which opened with the equivalent of 29,000 sales, including 40 million streams.Swift’s “Anti-Hero” holds at No. 1 on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart, becoming her longest-running No. 1 single. More