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      in Music

      Pedal Steel Noah’s Covers Charm Fans Online. Up Next: His Own Songs.

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      This 16-year-old from Austin, Texas, plays New Wave and post-punk hits with his brother and dog beside him. This week, his first EP, “Texas Madness,” comes out.Like many American teenagers, Noah Faulkner, 16, is obsessed with music. He’ll spend hours going down rabbit holes, listening to every note played by his favorite artists and studying new discoveries. He recently came out of a monthslong deep dive on Clarence Ashley, a banjo player who recorded during the Great Depression and “makes me feel like I’m an old man,” Faulkner said. Ashley’s music “feels very spooky, and I imagine it’s like an abandoned place somewhere.”Unlike most teenagers, Faulkner is translating these influences into a dedicated music career. Using the handle Pedal Steel Noah, he posts daily covers of ’80s New Wave and post-punk hits on Instagram and TikTok, interpreting the work of acts like the Smiths and Tears for Fears on one of the hardest instruments to master. Along the way, he’s made fans of Neko Case, Big Thief, Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle and scores of others drawn to his emotive playing and charming setup: a big Texas flag in the background, his brother, Nate, 13, on bass and a shaggy Aussiedoodle panting along.Faulkner’s interest in pedal steel stems from an early plunge into country music. “I was listening to George Strait when I wanted to listen to something that’s cheerful and faithful,” he said. Eli Durst for The New York TimesIn March, the brothers and their father, Jay, played several showcases during the South by Southwest festival in their hometown and opened for the Black Keys’ keynote address. Dressed in a Western shirt, black cowboy hat and the colorful Crocs that have become his signature footwear, Pedal Steel Noah put a Texas stamp on songs by Duran Duran and the Cocteau Twins.“It was amazing,” he said via video call from the dinner table, his family gathered around him, “but it was exhausting. Hopefully, I can give myself a reward of a party for my friends.” On Monday, he’s taking the next step in his young career, releasing “Texas Madness,” an EP that includes three covers and two original tracks.

      View this post on Instagram A post shared by Noah Faulkner (@pedalsteelnoah) 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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      Peter Brown, One of the Beatles’ Closest Confidants, Tells All (Again)

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      At 87, the dapper insider is releasing a new book of interviews conducted in 1980 and 1981 with the band and people nearest to it.Peter Brown stood in his spacious Central Park West apartment, pointing first at the dining table and then through the window to the park outside, with Strawberry Fields just to the right.“John sat at that table looking through here,” Brown said, “and he couldn’t take his eyes off the park.”That’s John as in Lennon. And the story of the former Beatle coveting this living-room view in 1971 — and how Lennon and his wife, Yoko Ono, eventually got their own place one block down, at the Dakota — is just one of Brown’s countless nuggets of Fab Four lore. In the 1960s he was an assistant to Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager, and then an officer at Apple Corps, the band’s company. A key figure in the Beatles’ secretive inner circle, Brown kept a red telephone on his desk whose number was known only to the four members.And it was Brown who, in 1969, informed Lennon that he and Ono could quickly and quietly wed in a small British territory on the edge of the Mediterranean, a piece of advice immortalized in “The Ballad of John and Yoko”: “Peter Brown called to say, ‘You can make it OK/You can get married in Gibraltar, near Spain.’”Next week, Brown and the writer Steven Gaines are releasing a book, “All You Need Is Love: The Beatles in Their Own Words,” made up of interviews they conducted in 1980 and 1981 with the band and people close to it, including business representatives, lawyers, wives and ex-wives — the raw material that Brown and Gaines used for their earlier narrative biography of the band, “The Love You Make: An Insider’s Story of the Beatles,” published in 1983.Now 87, Brown is a polarizing figure in Beatles history. He was a witness to some of the band’s most important moments and was a trusted keeper of its secrets. “The only people left are Paul and Ringo and me,” 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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      in Television

      J.B. Smoove of ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ Thinks You Should Get Out More

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      Although he plays a sort of permanent houseguest on “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” “I tell young people all the time to go places,” he says.J.B. Smoove has been here before.“This is almost like the old ‘S.N.L.’ story,” he said, referring to when he lost his writing job on “Saturday Night Live” in 2006. “Something has to go away for something to come in.”This time, what’s ending is “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” on which he plays Leon Black, Larry David’s foulmouthed houseguest who never left.What’s coming in is Smoove Season.“Larry might be ready to hang them up,” he said. “I’m ready to take them off. This is my time to introduce all things that I love” — among them, producing and his new lines of watches and hat boxes. “I think there’s something really interesting about building something that you’re always building. It is never finished.”In fact, Smoove still isn’t certain that this 12th and final season of “Curb” is actually its last.“I never know what the temperature is because as the world keeps changing, Larry keeps thinking of ways to get us through it and explain it to us in his way,” Smoove said on a video call before talking about sharp suits, cigar cars and his beloved R.V. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.1Close DancingMy wife, Shah, calls me Twinkle Toes. I started in a dance crew when I was younger. And man, I’ve been dancing my whole life. My wife and I, any event we go to, we are literally the life of the party. We like dirty dancing. We like to do our little moves. And we dance even better when we know people are watching us.2Suits, Shoes, ShadesThat is the J.B. look right there. I would wear a suit every day if I could. It forces your posture. You have to purposefully have your suit to the point where you have to breathe in and then you button your top button and you don’t exhale for the rest of the night. If that belly is sticking out, you are not doing that suit justice.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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      in Music

      Jim White, Your Favorite Songwriter’s Favorite Drummer

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      During the last 30 years, the musician has emerged as one of indie-rock’s most distinctive drummers on other people’s records. At last, he’s made his own.In the early 1990s, Jim White was a drumming journeyman, having pounded out rhythms in a string of loud and rabid bands with snotty names, like Feral Dinosaurs or Venom P. Stinger. On the cusp of 30, he started Dirty Three, along with two other idiosyncratic Australian instrumentalists, the violinist Warren Ellis and the guitarist Mick Turner. Their lambent jams found unexpected enthusiasm inside Melbourne bars.One afternoon during the group’s early days, Eddie Midnight, the jocular brother of a friend, shouted out to White, calling him by the nickname he hated: “Hey, Skins! You got a minute? I found something good for ya.” Back at his house, Midnight pulled out an ash-caked snare — its heads busted and one rim missing — that he’d spotted in a shed. White said thanks and took what he suspected was trash to a music shop. The employees were flummoxed: Where had White found this treasure, a Ludwig Black Beauty from the 1920s? It was a holy grail everywhere but a near-impossible score in Australia.And then, White played it.“It just sounds amazing, irrefutably beautiful — very dynamic, always warm, got a great crack,” White said, smiling in the spartan kitchen of the Brooklyn walk-up where he’s lived since 2010, on a sunny February afternoon. He extended the snare, its nickel frame mottled like an ancient mountainside. “People hear it, and they say, ‘Do you mind if I go buy one just like it?’”But ask the singers with whom White has played during the last 30 years — Cat Power or Nick Cave, PJ Harvey or Bill Callahan — and they might agree no one else makes that battered snare (or, really, the drums) sound quite like White. Intuitive but measured, propulsive but patient, White’s drumming has become an instantly identifiable instrumental voice, anchored by Midnight’s gift.White’s new solo album is the first in a triptych of new releases that includes a duo with the guitarist Marisa Anderson and the return of his band Dirty Three.Peter Fisher for The New York Times“You can hear the rainbow of his emotion in the swells, the dropouts, the attacks,” Chan Marshall, who records as Cat Power, said in an interview. “He’s able to master the set at any time, in any situation, and it’s always going to be Jim White. I don’t know anyone else who can do that.”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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      in Music

      Will Country Welcome Beyoncé? That’s the Wrong Question.

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      With the release of “Cowboy Carter,” Beyoncé’s eighth solo album and the one that finds her exploring — and testing — the boundaries of country music, much of the early conversation has centered on whether the country music industry would rally around her. Beyoncé is one of the most commercially successful and creatively vibrant pop stars of the 21st century — certainly her arrival would be greeted with hurrahs, no?Not quite.Rather than being feted with a welcome party, Beyoncé has been met largely with shrugs. “Texas Hold ’Em” — one of the two singles she released in advance of the album — is a savvy blend of old and new. It displays a familiarity with the sonic principles of old-fashioned country, while maintaining the infectiousness of current pop. Nevertheless, it has received extremely modest attention at country radio. Beyoncé is Black, and a woman, two groups that contemporary Nashville has consistently marginalized and shortchanged. And no amount of built-in celebrity appears to be able to undo that.Contemporary mainstream country music often feels like a closed loop of white male storytelling. Which is why whether or not Beyoncé and Nashville can find common cause is, in every way, a red herring. Neither is particularly interested in the other — the tradition-shaped country music business will accept certain kinds of outsiders but isn’t set up to accommodate a Black female star of Beyoncé’s stature, and she is focusing on country as art and inspiration and sociopolitical plaything, not industry. The spurn is mutual.On Instagram last week, Beyoncé spelled it out plainly: “This ain’t a Country album. This is a ‘Beyoncé’ album.” It was a statement that preemptively denied the country music industry the opportunity to stake a claim on her work while also indicating that she had found a creative path around the genre’s confines.Beyoncé and the Chicks at the C.M.A. Awards in 2016.Image Group LA/ABC, via Getty ImagesThis is as close as she’s come to leveraging the expectation of the genre’s racism and exclusion as a means of promotion. Beyoncé instead made it personal, adding that her exploration of these musical themes was “born out of an experience that I had years ago where I did not feel welcomed … and it was very clear that I wasn’t.” This is likely a reference to her appearance at the Country Music Association Awards in 2016, where she performed her song “Daddy Lessons” alongside the Dixie Chicks (now the Chicks), another act who intimately understand the experience of being held at arm’s length by the Nashville oligarchy.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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      in Music

      The Encounter That Put the Pianist Kelly Moran on an Unexpected Path

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      The 36-year-old musician helped introduce the prepared piano to fresh audiences. Amid personal upheaval, she abandoned it and found a new voice.As spring 2022 bloomed, Irena Wang emailed the pianist Kelly Moran to ask for a mixtape.They had briefly met just days before — at the funeral of Wang’s partner of seven years and Moran’s high-school sweetheart in the little Long Island town where they grew up. He had died from an accidental overdose, eight months after becoming a father.“He was my first love, my first heartbreak, my first everything,” Moran remembered one evening after dark in Yamaha’s sprawling Midtown Manhattan piano studio in early February, a week before she turned 36. “I saw his widow and infant son, and it was one of the saddest moments of my life.”Wang’s husband, Damian, had always bragged about Moran, and even accompanied Wang to see her play with Oneohtrix Point Never in Los Angeles. After the funeral, Wang sent her an email: “I really want to know you, but I need some time. Can you maybe recommend some music?”Moran dumped 28 albums into Dropbox. That stylistic tangle — the serene throb of Gas’s “Pop,” the mesmeric pull of John Adams’s “The Dharma at Big Sur,” the magnetic oddities of Broadcast’s “Tender Buttons” — was the tentative first step of what became a friendship between Moran and Wang, and is now a family. Late last year, they moved in together; with Luka, Wang and Damian’s son, the members of this unorthodox trio have empowered one another past the shadow of grief.“So much in my life has been very focused on myself. Being an artist is narcissistic because you’re indulging your instincts,” Moran said. “But now with my family, it feels so good to be useful to other people, to have community. Music gets its potency from sharing, from having community.”That chemistry became the crucial final component for Moran’s “Moves in the Field,” due March 29, a softhearted but steel-skinned set of 10 piano pieces that are as rapturous as a waterfall or as delicate as vapor. Her first album in six years, it is the redemptive conclusion in an extended span of personal tragedy and professional doubt, all ingrained in its sweeping songs.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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      in Theater

      Cynthia Nixon Knows What Poem She Wants Read at Her Funeral

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      “I love ‘I heard a Fly buzz — when I died,’” said the actress, currently performing Off Broadway in “The Seven Year Disappear.” “That one gets me every time.”Cynthia Nixon hadn’t been onstage since 2017, when she and Laura Linney alternated the roles of Regina and Birdie in “The Little Foxes.”She wasn’t expecting her comeback to be “The Seven Year Disappear,” playing an artist who also re-emerges after seven years.“It was really startling to me and a weird, uncanny echo of the play,” Nixon said. The Jordan Seavey production runs through March 31 at the New Group, and four performances, from March 29 to 31, will be live-streamed.Nixon is a two-time Tony Award winner, including one for “The Little Foxes,” but she is widely known for her work in television, including as Miranda Hobbes in “Sex and the City” and in “And Just Like That …” and as Ada Brook in “The Gilded Age.” This summer, she plans to begin shooting the third seasons of those latter two series, volleying from one to the other.“I can see in some ways it being fun,” she said. After all, she’s pulled off something like it before.“I did this thing when I was 18 where I was in two Broadway plays at the same time,” said Nixon, who ran back and forth between “The Real Thing” and “Hurlyburly,” both directed by Mike Nichols, and even made the curtain calls.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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      in Television

      Andrea Riseborough Has a Hidden Agenda

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      Currently in two series, “The Regime” and “Alice & Jack,” this versatile actress has played dozens of characters. What connects them? Not even she knows.“I really do wish sometimes that I could do all of this a different way,” Andrea Riseborough said. “But I suppose I just do it the way that I do it. And there are consequences.”She paused then, pressing her lips into a thin smile. “That all sounds a bit dramatic,” she added.This was on an afternoon in early March, and Riseborough, 42, a metamorphic actress with a worrying sense of commitment, was seated at a West Village cafe, a basket of vinegar-doused French fries in front of her. She is often unrecognizable from one project to the next, a combination of makeup, hairstyle (what Meryl Streep is to accents, Riseborough is to coiffure) and marrow-deep transformation. Here, offscreen, she wore a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt under a busy leather jacket. Her hair, still growing out from the dismal pixie cut she got for the HBO series “The Regime,” was pulled back with an elastic.In person, she is a particular mix of gravity and nonchalance. She knows that she has a reputation for seriousness, which she rejects. “It would be pretty strange to apologize for being serious when you’re giggling so much,” she said. But I rarely heard her laugh. She considered each question carefully and her responses were often philosophical rather than personal. “People,” she might say in place of “I.” Or “most people.” Or “everyone.” Her face, at rest and free of makeup, isn’t especially restful. There is a watchfulness to her, a sense of thoughts tumbling behind those eyes.In her two decades in the business, goaded by a tireless work ethic that sometimes saw her completing as many as five projects per year, she has amassed credits across stage, film and television. It can be hard to find a through-line among those enterprises, mainstream and independent, comedy and tragedy and horror.In ”The Regime,” Riseborough, left, plays palace master for a despot, played by Kate Winslet.Miya Mizuno/HBOIn 2022, for example, she starred in the sex-addled queer musical “Please Baby Please,” produced by her production company; the cockeyed interwar drama “Amsterdam”; the boisterous children’s film “Matilda: the Musical”; the bleak Scandinavian thriller “What Remains”; and the wrenching Texas-set indie, “To Leslie,” for which Riseborough received her first Academy Award nomination. (That nomination was complicated by perceived campaigning irregularities, though the Academy ultimately concluded that no guidelines had been violated.) Try to connect those dots.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