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      in Movies

      ‘Sinners’ and Beyoncé Battle the Vampires. And the Gatekeepers, Too.

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      This moment might call for excessive, imaginative Black art that wants to be gobbled up. That’s Ryan Coogler’s new movie. That’s “Cowboy Carter.” Let’s throw in some Kendrick, too.When Beyoncé wails, in the opening moments of her “Cowboy Carter” album, that “them big ideas are buried here,” I’ve imagined “big” standing in for “racist” but have never hit pause to wonder about the GPS coordinates. That song’s called “Ameriican Requiem,” so the cemetery is everywhere. And yet partway through Ryan Coogler’s hit “Sinners,” I thought, Oh, this is where ‘here’ is, inside a movie about a 1932 juke joint whose music is so soulful that vampires, who are also a white minstrel trio, want to suck its blood.She’s envisioning utopia — a place where a Black woman feels free to make any kind of music she wants, including country. He’s imagined a nightmare in which Black art is doomed to be coveted before it’s ever just simply enjoyed. She’s defying the gatekeepers. He’s arguing that some gates definitely need to be kept. To that end, the movie keeps a gag running wherein vampire etiquette requires a verbal invitation to enter the club, leading to comic scenes of clearly possessed, increasingly itchy soul junkies standing in a doorway begging to be let in. People have been calling certain white performers interested in Black music vampires for years. Here’s a movie that literalizes the metaphor with an audacity that’s thrilling in its obviousness and redundancy.There’s never a bad time for good pop art. There’s never a bad time for Black artists to provide it. But these here times? Times of hatchet work and so-called wood-chipping; of chain saws, as both metaphor and dispiriting political prop; a time of vandalistic racial gaslighting. These times might call for an excessive pop art that takes on too much, that wants to be gobbled up and dug into, an art that isn’t afraid to boast I am this country, while also doing some thinking about what this country is. These here times might call for Black artists to provide that, too, to offer an American education that feels increasingly verboten. That’s not art’s strong suit, pointing at chalkboards. But if school systems are being bullied into coddling snowflakes, then perhaps, on occasion, art should be hitting you upside the head and dancing on your nose.Beyoncé on the opening night of her “Cowboy Carter” tour in Los Angeles last month.The New York TimesNow, it’s true that the knobbiest moments on “Cowboy Carter” and in “Sinners” are the equivalent of diagramed sentences. The album uses elders to do its explaining. Before “Spaghettii” gets underway, the singer and songwriter Linda Martell stops by to dissertate on the limitation of genres; Dolly Parton connects her “Jolene” to the home-wrecker in Beyoncé’s now nine-year-old “Sorry”; and Willie Nelson, as the D.J. on KNTRY, Beyoncé’s fictional broadcast network, turns his dial past some real chestnuts to tee up “Texas Hold ’Em.” They’re vouching for the validity of her project’s scope and sincerity, while, especially in Martell’s case, spelling everything out.The spelling in “Sinners” happens right in the middle of its young protagonist’s first big blues number. Earlier, we’d gotten a taste of what Sammie (Miles Caton), a preacher’s boy, could do. Caton’s molasses baritone and impaling guitar work were really doing it for me when the sound muffles, and in come not one but two micro lectures about this music’s power to “pierce the veil between the present and the past.” And as these explanations of Black music tumble forth, I was surprised to find a very Funkadelic fellow making love to an electric guitar right next to Sammie. Over by the kitchen twerks a woman arguably conjured from some extremely City Girls place. The temperature of instruments changes from live drums to what sound like drum machines. And I soon spy dashikied tribesmen, b-boys, a ballerina and, I’m pretty sure, a decked-out Chinese folk singer, and they’re all gettin’ in the way of the blues.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

      Going Back to Pavement’s Gold Sounds

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      Hear 11 songs to prep for the band’s bizarro documentary, “Pavements.”Stephen Malkmus fronting Pavement.Chad Batka for The New York TimesDear listeners,This past Friday one of the more bonkers music documentaries ever to hit screens arrived: “Pavements,” the director Alex Ross Perry’s exploration of both the ’90s indie band Pavement and the ways we make myths around musicians. I talked to Perry and the Pavement frontman Stephen Malkmus about how the movie ended up taking the wild form that it did, using split-screen images to show Pavement’s most recent reunion tour as well as a jukebox musical (real), a Hollywood biopic (fake) and a museum exhibition (a bit of both). The Times critic Alissa Wilkinson called it all “delightfully destabilizing.”Along with its meta pranks, though, “Pavements” is full of great music. In our interview, Perry said he wanted the movie to “perform like a two-hour Pavement concert where it goes from an achingly beautiful, tender song, to a very loud and bratty punk song, to just an endless, sprawling, loose jam.” It’s an apt description of the band’s catalog, which filtered avant-garde rock influences — like the Velvet Underground, Pere Ubu (R.I.P. David Thomas), Can and especially the Fall — through the suburban California sensibility of Malkmus and Scott Kannberg, a.k.a. Spiral Stairs. “The whole record collection kind of melts into what you are,” Malkmus says in the documentary.You can’t talk about Pavement in 2025 without getting into the story of “Harness Your Hopes,” a non-album track that was boosted by the Spotify and TikTok algorithms until it became Pavement’s best-known song for younger fans. (“That’s really like a crazy, crazy thing that happened,” Malkmus said in a phone interview. “That’s pretty fun.”) The band’s record label had Perry shoot a music video to capitalize on its success; it features Sophie Thatcher from “Yellowjackets” and references all of Pavement’s old videos from the ’90s.If you like that one, just think what they actually put on the records! Here’s a Pavement primer where the beautifully tender rubs shoulders with the loud and bratty and the endless, loose jams.Hi-ho, Silver, ride,DaveListen along while you read.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

    • 100 Shares149 Views

      in Music

      Turnstile, Hardcore Punk’s Breakout Band, Can’t Be Contained

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      On a nostalgic drive through Turnstile’s Baltimore hometown last month, the band’s workaholic frontman, Brendan Yates, pointed out an empty lot that looked like the eroded remnants of a loading dock where the band once played a show. A few days later, on a giant stage in the California desert, Charli XCX proclaimed it would be a “Turnstile Summer” on a huge screen during her Coachella set.Over the past 15 years, Turnstile has blown up from local hardcore heroes to one of the most popular punk bands of its era. Though the group emerged from a world of aggressive music, it cycles through genres — dream-pop, alternative rock — often over the course of one song. That chaos, along with a striking emotional depth, is in its ethos.“There is something exciting about being able to make music in a way where there’s no formula, there’s no expectation,” Yates, 36, said. The band’s 2021 album, “Glow On,” propelled it from the upper echelons of the underground into a dramatically larger landscape that included TV commercials, Grammy nominations and a spot opening for Blink-182’s arena tour. With a new album, “Never Enough,” due June 6, Turnstile is pushing its sound further, and the stages are set to get even bigger, leading to an inevitable question: Can the group retain its magic (and its mission) as it grows?In the late afternoon, four of the band’s five members jammed into the guitarist Pat McCrory’s car for a drive soundtracked by a Robert Palmer deep cut and a lot of sighs about the ongoing gentrification of Baltimore. They stopped at Red Thorn Tattoo, and were surprised to find it closed. Yates, McCrory, the drummer Daniel Fang and the bassist Franz Lyons, outfitted in a selection of hoodies and baseball caps, peered through the window. (Meg Mills, a new addition who plays guitar, was back home in the United Kingdom.)Fang, 35, whose soft-spoken, slight presence belies his ferocity as a drummer, explained that over a decade ago, the storefront was a music venue known as the Charm City Art Space that hosted hardcore shows. When he was in high school, he was inadvertently shoved to the ground while moshing there, leaving him bloody and with a chipped tooth. In spite of that — or possibly because of it — he had a great time. His mother panicked when she picked him up, then was “overjoyed” that he’d found his people. Fang relayed this origin story as though he were a pastor outlining the moment he found religion. For him, the seeds that would grow into Turnstile had been sown.Hardcore, an outgrowth of 1980s punk rock with screamed vocals and screeching guitars, is an apt mirror for young adulthood — a limbo stage that is fertile ground for creative expression. The genre’s overarching ethos is one of self-determination, and its underground nature breeds a do-it-yourself mind-set that often follows hardcore fans well into their adult lives.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

    • 125 Shares159 Views

      in Music

      Mike Peters, Frontman of the Alarm, Is Dead at 66

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      Leading the Welsh band known for 1980s anthems like “Sixty Eight Guns,” he later became a strong voice in the fight against cancer, which he battled for decades.Mike Peters, the frontman of the Welsh post-punk band the Alarm, which in the 1980s drew comparisons to U2 for its storm-the-barricades passion and its clarion-call anthems like “Sixty Eight Guns” and “Blaze of Glory,” has died. He was 66, having battled cancer over three decades and been a prominent campaigner against it.His death was confirmed in social media posts by his wife, Jules Jones Peters, who did not say where or when he died or specify the cause.Mr. Peters was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma in 1995 and twice with chronic lymphocytic leukemia, in 2005 and again in 2015. Both are forms of blood cancer. Last year, on the eve of a 50-date U.S. tour, he discovered that he had Richter’s syndrome, a more aggressive form of lymphoma.Starting in the 2000s, Mr. Peters took on a second career as a prominent spokesman in the fight against cancer. He helped found the Love Hope Strength Foundation, which has staged concerts in dramatic locations like Mount Everest and Mount Fuji to raise funds for cancer research and treatment.The Alarm in 1982, from left: Nigel Twist, Mr. Peters, Eddie Macdonald and Dave Sharp. Emerging from Britain’s punk underground of the late 1970s, the group was known for its electric-shock hairstyles as well as its righteous fury.Erica Echenberg/Redferns, via Getty ImagesEmerging from Britain’s punk underground of the late 1970s, the Alarm, known for their righteous fury and electric-shock hairstyles, fused the high-octane energy of punk with a distinctive twin-acoustic-guitar attack while firing off musical fusillades like “Where Were You Hiding When the Storm Broke?,” “Spirit of ’76” and “The Stand.”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

    • 138 Shares139 Views

      in Music

      Barbra Streisand’s Silky Duet With Hozier, and 9 More New Songs

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      Hear tracks by Summer Walker, Nilüfer Yanya, Ed Sheeran and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new tracks. Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes) and at Apple Music here, and sign up for The Amplifier, a twice-weekly guide to new and old songs.Barbra Streisand with Hozier, ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’At 83, Barbra Streisand still commands a voice of dewy-eyed purity, long-breathed grace and tremulous anticipation. She has announced “The Secret of Life: Partners, Volume 2” — an album of duets with Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, Sting, Laufey and more — with “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” A deferential, un-gritty Hozier joins her in a slow, string-laden arrangement that changes key to accommodate him. This duet definitely won’t eclipse Robert Flack’s eternally radiant version, but it has an earnest charm.Ed Sheeran, ‘Old Phone’Fireside folk-rock contends with digital technology in “Old Phone.” It’s a guitar-strumming, foot-tapping ditty about realizing, too late, that cellphone storage can hold a Pandora’s box of regrets: lost friends, misjudgments, arguments, “messages from all my exes.” Better to wipe it next time.Summer Walker, ‘Spend It’The sound is plush and sensual, a silky, spacious R&B ballad with glimmering vocal harmonies sharing the chorus. But the message is coldly mercenary: “Give me the last four of your credit card / Buy back my love, you can keep your heart.” Instead of refuting the hip-hop cliché of women as gold-diggers, Summer Walker leans into it.Nilüfer Yanya, ‘Cold Heart’With her new single, “Cold Heart,” Nilüfer Yanya sets aside her trusty fuzz-toned guitar. Amid undulating keyboard chords and programmed beats, she sings about desire, separation, resentment and heartache: “I don’t wanna bear this burden ’cause it hurts like hell,” she sings. Many of her previous songs have built toward grungy catharsis, but in “Cold Heart,” the chords keep cycling around her; she’s still enmeshed.Bambii featuring Jessy Lanza and Yaeji, ‘Mirror’Bambii, a Jamaican-Canadian D.J. turned producer and songwriter who’s based in Toronto, keeps reconfiguring a sparse, syncopated bass riff and twitchy, flickering breakbeats in “Mirror.” Jessy Lanza sings in English and Yaeji sings and raps in English and Korean, pondering connection and identity — “I look in the mirror / I see your eyes” — as the rhythms ricochet.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

    • 163 Shares169 Views

      in Movies

      ‘Pavements’: A Sly Ode to the Last Band You’d Give the Biopic Treatment

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      Part spoof and part serious, the film is about mythmaking as much as it is about music. The result is delightfully destabilizing.Everybody thinks they know their favorite musicians or bands inside and out: what the lyrics mean, when their style changed, which fabled event made or broke their careers. Filmmakers have always been willing participants in the process, from concert movies to intimate documentaries to glossy biopics. We crave the results, because the myth-weaving is collaborative. And sometimes it involves bending reality a bit to get a better story.Nominally, the subject of the eccentric new documentary “Pavements” (in theaters) is, well, Pavement — but in truth, it’s about the whole ecosystem that creates the legend. The 1990s indie-rock band reached moderate fame in its prime, broke up in 1999, and reunited for tours in 2010 and 2022, which is where “Pavements” begins. The band has a lot of lasting fans, mostly people old enough to have gone to shows or listened on their local college station during Pavement’s original run. There are also a lot of people who’ve never heard of it.That makes the band an unlikely subject for a documentary, which is kind of the joke — and which lends “Pavements” its bigger theme, too. Directed by Alex Ross Perry and edited by the documentarian Robert Greene, it’s a hard film to describe. Part spoof and part serious, its vibe is very much in keeping with its subjects. There’s the documentary part, about the band’s formation and various albums, with archival footage and interviews, a format familiar to anyone who watches documentaries these days.But there are at least three other things going on inside this movie, shot by the cinematographer Robert Kolodny in a variety of visual styles designed to recall genres we’ve seen before. We watch the creation and rehearsal process for “Slanted! Enchanted!,” a Pavement jukebox musical that culminated in two workshop performances in New York in 2022 (one of which I attended). We see the opening of a museum-style show with memorabilia.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

    • 138 Shares189 Views

      in Television

      ‘God Is in the Details’: Embracing Boredom in Art and Life

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      The Netflix show “Adolescence” and asks audiences to be OK with slower moments and small talk. Is that possible in 2025?The Netflix drama “Adolescence” requires its audience to linger — to sink into the mundane.Each of its four hourlong episodes was shot in one continuous take, allowing its harrowing story — centered on a 13-year-old boy accused of killing a classmate — to unfold in real time. As the visual point of view shifts, its audience is invited to eavesdrop on interactions that are extraneous to the plot, as characters loiter in hallways and cars, and make small talk with strangers.“Adolescence” is unusual because, as a character study without a propulsive plot, it requires its audience be OK with being in the moment. It stands in contrast to most modern television shows, which are increasingly geared toward a smartphone-addicted viewership of people who scroll while watching (think fast-moving shows like “Reacher”).It also stands in contrast to how we live our lives, with shortening attention spans, increasing isolation and an inability to sit still. “Adolescence” challenges us to be OK with small talk and boredom, even if our impulse is to disappear into our screens.“We’re becoming conditioned for these fast filtered interactions that involve constant stimulation,” said Fallon Goodman, the director of the Emotion and Resilience Laboratory at George Washington University. “So the consequences of that are shorter attention spans, making us more impatient with the natural flow of an in-person interaction.”Early in the fourth and final episode of “Adolescence,” Eddie (Stephen Graham, also a creator of the series), drives to a hardware store with his wife, Manda (Christine Tremarco), and daughter, Lisa (Amelie Pease), to buy paint. The ride lasts eight minutes — an eternity in television time. Viewers ride along, too, watching as the family tries to maintain the illusion of normality, even as the couple’s young son, Jamie (Owen Cooper), is sitting in jail. As Eddie puts it, they are “solving the problem of today.” They discuss their love of the band a-ha and how Eddie and Manda met, and they make plans to celebrate Eddie’s birthday.The sequence does not affect the central story line in a meaningful way, and one can imagine a less ambitious show condensing this scene, focused strictly on character work, to a minute or two, or cutting it entirely. But from the passenger seat, viewers learn Eddie and Manda are in therapy and observe the heaviness under which the family is living, despite their smiles as “Take On Me” plays in the background.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

    • 150 Shares149 Views

      in Music

      Jill Sobule, Singer of ‘I Kissed a Girl,’ Dies in House Fire

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      Ms. Sobule, 66, died Thursday morning in Woodbury, Minn., her publicist said. She had been scheduled to perform songs from her musical later in the week.Jill Sobule, the singer and songwriter whose hit “Supermodel” and gay anthem “I Kissed a Girl” were followed by three decades of touring, advocacy and a one-woman musical, died on Thursday morning in a house fire in Woodbury, Minn., according to her publicist. She was 66.The Public Safety Department in Woodbury, a Minneapolis suburb, said that firefighters had responded at 5:30 a.m. to a house that was engulfed in flames. The homeowners said one person was possibly still inside. Firefighters found the body of a woman in her 60s inside the house, the department said.The cause of the fire was not immediately clear.Ms. Sobule was scheduled to perform songs from her one-woman musical, “F*ck7thGrade,” on Friday at the Swallow Hill Music venue in her hometown, Denver, according to her publicist. She was staying with friends in Minnesota while she rehearsed for the musical, the publicist said.A free, informal gathering will be held in Ms. Sobule’s honor instead.On her 1995 self-titled album, Ms. Sobule, who was bisexual, featured “I Kissed a Girl,” which tells the story of a woman kissing her female friend. The song came out when it was “dicey” to be a queer musician, Ms. Sobule recalled. But it broke into the mainstream, making its way onto the Billboard charts.“Supermodel,” a rebellious rock song from the same album, was included on the soundtrack of the romantic comedy “Clueless” and further cemented Ms. Sobule’s popularity.“People call me a one-hit wonder,” Ms. Sobule said in a 2022 interview with The New York Times. “And I say, ‘Wait a second, I’m a two-hit wonder!’”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