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    Les Rallizes Dénudés: Unraveling One of Rock’s Deep Mysteries

    The Japanese band that emerged in the late 1960s was known for its rumbling rhythms and ear-shredding feedback — but almost nothing was known about its leader, Takashi Mizutani.Makoto Kubota is still amazed by the continuing appeal of his old band, Les Rallizes Dénudés.An accomplished producer and bandleader in Japan, Kubota spent just a few years in the early 1970s playing with the Rallizes, which by the usual measures of rock success barely made a blip. Led by the enigmatic Takashi Mizutani, the band emerged in the late-’60s haze of psychedelia and radical student politics with a scorchingly loud sound, though it ceased performing in 1996 and the handful of raw recordings the group released went out of print long ago. Yet decades later, younger musicians now press Kubota for any information about the band, and fans around the world who likely cannot understand Mizutani’s cryptic Japanese lyrics declare on social media that his music has changed their lives.“I never thought this could touch foreigners’ hearts so deeply,” Kubota said in a recent interview from his home in Tokyo.Les Rallizes Dénudés — known to insiders and acolytes as the Rallizes (pronounced “rallies”) for short — have long held a peculiar place in the annals of underground music as a group more heard about than actually heard, its reputation resting more on legend than fact. Through bootleg live recordings with rumbling rhythms and ear-shredding sheets of guitar feedback, which have been pored over and cataloged by fans, the Rallizes have come to symbolize both the sonic extremes of rock and the ways that online communities can nurture and amplify even the most obscure corners of global culture.David Novak, an associate professor at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and the author of “Japanoise: Music at the Edge of Circulation,” describes the band’s influence by referring to an oft-misquoted remark by Brian Eno that relatively few people bought the Velvet Underground’s albums at the time, but each of them (seemingly) formed a band.“The Rallizes are like that, except there was no record to buy,” Novak said. “There was just this fantasy of some incredibly abrasive, mysterious group that created this wall of impenetrable noise. The power of that story drove a huge renaissance.”Now, after decades of intrigue — and almost three years since Mizutani’s death — Les Rallizes Dénudés are getting the archival treatment. Earlier this year, “The Oz Tapes,” a set of recordings from 1973 that were part of a compilation celebrating Oz, a short-lived venue in Tokyo, were remastered by Kubota and reissued by the American label Temporal Drift. “Oz Days Live: ’72-’73 Kichijoji,” an expanded version of the original compilation, with tracks by the Rallizes, Masato Minami, Acid Seven and others from the same scene, is coming out this month.Later this fall will come long-sought reissues of three CDs from 1991, the only albums the Rallizes released during their existence. And Kubota, working on behalf of Mizutani’s estate, has spent months combing through what he called “a suitcase full of master tapes” from Mizutani’s personal archive.The wave of new releases, and related curatorial work by Temporal Drift — “Oz Days Live” comes with a 112-page book with an oral history of Oz, a CBGB for Tokyo’s early psychedelic scene — offer a chance to contextualize the Rallizes for new listeners. They can also fill in the gaps for longtime followers who have subsisted on scantily labeled bootlegs and digital bread crumbs from fan sites.BUT GETTING A full picture of the Rallizes and its reclusive leader may be impossible. Mizutani, usually pictured in a uniform of black shades and black leather, almost never spoke to the media, and some former bandmates still adhere to an unspoken omertà. Maki Miura, a guitarist, declined an interview request about Mizutani and his former band with a statement that said: “During his lifetime there was a silent understanding that no one would ever talk publicly about him. Honestly, it makes me wonder if Mizutani is pissed off.”Still, interviews with former Rallizes members and other associates of Mizutani paint a picture of a man singularly devoted to his art, and perhaps just as obsessed with cultivating an aura of inscrutability. Even the meaning of the band’s name is obscure. It may be an inside joke about suitcases, or perhaps a reference to William S. Burroughs. Kubota said he never asked about it, but that the name was understood to mean something like the Naked and Stoned. “It’s too embarrassing to say,” he said, and laughed.The band was founded in 1967 at Doshisha University, an elite institution in Kyoto, by Mizutani and other students who were members of the school’s Light Music Club. At the time, Japanese rock was evolving beyond its Beatles-inspired “group sounds” era, and Kubota said that Mizutani’s influences in those early years included the Velvet Underground, Blue Cheer, the Grateful Dead and the avant-garde rock and jazz of the New York label ESP.Mizutani was also heavily involved in the student protest movement of the time. By 1970, the Rallizes gained notoriety that would last for decades when its original bassist, Moriaki Wakabayashi, was part of a Marxist group that hijacked a Japanese passenger plane and flew it to North Korea. After that point, any political dimension to the Rallizes’ music, or Mizutani’s public persona, largely disappeared.Kubota in July. The onetime Les Rallizes member has been working on behalf of Mizutani’s estate, combing through what he called “a suitcase full of master tapes” from Mizutani’s personal archive.Hiroyuki Ito for The New York Times“The Oz Tapes” — with Kubota on bass, Takeshi Nakamura on guitar and Shunichiro Shoda on drums — is a rough blueprint for the Rallizes’ sound, which would develop over years of shifting lineups, with Mizutani as the only constant. Songs like “Wilderness of False Flowers” and the 11-minute “Vertigo Otherwise My Conviction” are built over jagged, repetitive grooves that swell and recede as Mizutani plays long solos that resemble Neil Young crossed with Sonny Sharrock. Like the Velvet Underground, the Rallizes can toggle between modes of paint-peeling noise and surreal quiet, as in “Memory Is Far Away,” a mournful ballad with ambiguous lines about a lost love (“The flames of betrayal burn eternally/The shadow of redemption keeps chasing me”).“It’s almost like the people there were brainwashed by his vibrations,” recalled Minoru Tezuka, the proprietor of Oz, who went on to become the group’s manager.In time the group’s style grew more extreme, with peals of feedback, lasting 20 minutes or longer, that can be hypnotic or painful, though sometimes with intriguing reference points. In “Night of the Assassins,” those screaming guitars are juxtaposed with a bass line that closely resembles “I Will Follow Him,” Little Peggy March’s bubble-gum hit from 1963; whether Mizutani meant that as a joke, we may never know.EVEN TO HIS bandmates, Mizutani was a cipher. “Mysterious but lovable,” Kubota said.Acid Seven, a bandleader and prankster who was a regular at Oz, recalled Mizutani interrupting his stoic silence at jam sessions only to utter existentialist riddles. He described Mizutani once taking a drag from his ever-present cigarette and proclaiming, “The smoke coming out of my mouth is extinguishing my ego,” with no further explanation offered.By being totally uncompromising about the band’s sound, Mizutani effectively exiled himself from the Japanese music industry. Shime Takahashi, who played drums with the Rallizes in the mid-70s, recalled the band once working in a professional studio, only to find that the engineer never pressed record because he thought it was still rehearsing. Mizutani had been playing with the Rallizes for more than 20 years before releasing its three albums in 1991 — two sets of early recordings, and another double-CD live set of the band at its noisiest.“It’s that determination not to be commercial, to remain underground, which is the one constant the group had throughout its history,” said Alan Cummings, a professor at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London and a longtime chronicler of Japan’s underground music.Yet that stance bolstered the Rallizes’ legend, making the band a sort of early inspiration for the so-called Japanoise scene of the 1980s and ’90s — a catchall for a range of aggressive and noisy rock and electronic music that flowered in Tokyo, Osaka and elsewhere — and a symbol for the perseverance of music that was anti-commercial at its core.“You might assume this is just Orientalist reverie on the part of American fans,” said Novak, of U.C. Santa Barbara. “But it’s not, because that sense of mystery is shared by so many in Japan. Rallizes came to symbolize the unknowability of the underground music scene in Japan, for Japanese fans too.”Still, the lovable side of Mizutani comes through in some of his colleagues’ recollections. Kubota remembers him cooking Nagoya-style noodles when they got the munchies in their student days. The dour eminence of noise rock could even break character at times. Kubota sounded stunned when he relayed the story of his friend inviting the Orange County Brothers, a Tex-Mex-style Japanese rock band that Kubota worked with, to spend the night at his parents’ house while on tour.“This is like the Velvet Underground having a party with Dr. Hook & the Medicine Show,” Kubota said, referring to the goofy 1970s country-rock group that sang “The Cover of Rolling Stone.”Les Rallizes Dénudés onstage in 1971.Kyo Nakamura, via The Last One MusiqueTHE LEGEND OF Les Rallizes Dénudés was arguably kept alive through bootlegs — unauthorized recordings, mostly of live concerts, that circulated among fans online and sparked new interest in the band in the 2000s. The source of these tapes has long been a curiosity, with some insiders speculating that Mizutani, or at least someone very close to him, may have been involved, given the high audio quality of some of them.To Temporal Drift, founded by two former employees of the reissue label Light in the Attic who worked on its Japan Archival Series, the popularity of those tapes proves the existence of a broad international fan base, and a potential market for new releases.“The obsession that Rallizes fans have for the band is pretty incredible,” said Patrick McCarthy, one of the label’s founders. “They’re people that are extremely dedicated, in ways you see with the Grateful Dead, where they have to have every article, every version of every bootleg.”The road to the new releases began in 2019, when Kubota traveled to New York to help with a documentary about an old friend, the Japanese folk singer Sachiko Kanenobu, who was playing in Central Park. “Everybody who was there — musicians, radio people — they asked me about the Rallizes. So I said, ‘OK, something is happening. I’ve got to contact Mizutani.’”After leaving the Rallizes in 1973, Kubota went on to a successful career with his bands Sunset Gang and the Sunsetz, and as a producer. But he had not spoken with Mizutani in almost 30 years before that summer. To his surprise, his old bandmate said he wanted to do a “last tour.” Kubota said that Mizutani also denied any involvement in the bootlegs, and expressed a desire to finally release the Rallizes’ music officially. The two had frequent conversations for a month or two, Kubota said, before their text chain went cold that fall. Later, he learned that Mizutani had died in December 2019, at age 71.Kubota then began working with Mizutani’s estate to sort through Mizutani’s archive of recordings; he declined to identify who controls the estate, saying only that it is someone who had been close to Mizutani for many years.Around the same time, he began working with Temporal Drift; Yosuke Kitazawa, the label’s other principal, said that when they began work on the project, they had no idea that Mizutani had died. In October 2021, an official Rallizes site appeared on the internet, announcing that Mizutani had died almost two years before and that a new entity, The Last One Musique — named after a Rallizes epic — had been formed to represent the Rallizes’ music rights, and would begin releasing Mizutani’s work “with far more alive and striking sound than the bootlegs that have been circulating over 20 years.”In a series of interviews this summer, Kubota said he had been working for months to sort through Mizutani’s collection, including numerous studio and live recordings.“Now I have received the material for four full concerts and started working on it,” Kubota said. “It will be monstrous.” More

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    Paramore Steps Into a New Era, and 8 More New Songs

    Hear tracks by Yeah Yeah Yeahs, LCD Soundsystem, Dram and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.Paramore, ‘This Is Why’Paramore has regrouped after Hayley Williams’s 2020 and 2021 solo albums showed how far her music could stretch beyond punk-pop and new wave. On the title song of its first LP since 2017, “This Is Why” (due in February) Paramore goes for wiry syncopation, not punk drive and power chords. “If you have an opinion, maybe you should shove it,” Williams sings, with biting mock-sweetness, over a backbeat and a hopping bass line. Choppy, clenched guitar chords — with more than a hint of INXS — goad her as she sneers an irritated response to a sourly divided national mood: “This is why I don’t leave the house.” JON PARELESYeah Yeah Yeahs, ‘Fleez’For much of their smoldering new album, “Cool It Down,” the once hyperactive Yeah Yeah Yeahs effectively reinvent themselves as purveyors of lush, slow-burning art-rock (see: the apocalyptically gorgeous, almost “Disintegration”-like leadoff single “Spitting Off the Edge of the World”). “Fleez,” however, harkens back to the barbed sound of their 2003 debut, “Fever to Tell,” and to the glory days of the indie sleaze sound the New York trio helped pioneer. Ironically — or perhaps as a reminder of how indebted that aesthetic was to the echoes of downtown past — the Yeah Yeah Yeahs do this by interpolating the funky groove and titular refrain of the South Bronx greats ESG’s 1983 single “Moody.” “I make my transformation, and it feels ni-i-i-i-i-ce,” Karen O vamps atop a chunky Nick Zinner riff and a shuffling Brian Chase beat — still, after all these years, a chemistry experiment that produces singular sparks. LINDSAY ZOLADZLCD Soundsystem, ‘New Body Rhumba’LCD Soundsystem’s first new song since 2017, for the soundtrack of Noah Baumbach’s film of the Don DeLillo novel “White Noise,” is the band’s latest jaunty, motoric complaint about money and mortality. “I need a new love and I need a new body/to push away the end,” James Murphy proclaims. LCD Soundsystem digs in, once again, to the late-1970s moment when punk, minimalism and dance music found a common stomping ground. “New Body Rhumba” is brawny and discordant, juggling sarcasm and sincerity, taunts and yearnings. Its final stretch, tootling and pounding over an insistent drone, may be a deathbed revelation, as Murphy belts, “Go into the light!” PARELESCaitlin Rose, ‘Nobody’s Sweetheart’It’s been nearly 10 years since the country-influenced indie musician Caitlin Rose’s most recent album, the whip-smart 2013 release “The Stand-In.” Later this year, she’ll break that long silence with her third record, “Cazimi,” out Nov. 18. The latest single, the stomping, sassy “Nobody’s Sweetheart” finds the silver lining in the single life, with Rose musing in her knowing drawl, “When you’re nobody’s sweetheart, you make the rules.” Even better, she adds, you’re “nobody’s fool.” ZOLADZFrankie Cosmos, ‘F.O.O.F.’Robert Smith was in love on Friday, Rebecca Black had to get down on Friday and now Greta Kline — leader of the indie-pop project Frankie Cosmos — freaks out on Friday. That’s what the playful acronym “F.O.O.F.” stands for and, accordingly, the latest single from Frankie Cosmos’s forthcoming album “Inner World Peace” is alive with Kline’s signature wry, muted humor. “It’s still Wednesday, I have to wait two more sleeps ’til I can freak,” Kline sighs, while a mildly noodly guitar solo saves up its most raucous energy. That the brief song ends before that promised freakout is the point: Kline is more interested in capturing that hopeful, anticipatory feeling — usually a comforting fiction — that everything will be all right once the weekend comes. ZOLADZNisa, ‘Sever’“How many breaks will it take until we can’t fix it?” Nisa Lumaj sings in “Sever” from her new EP, “Exaggerate.” The modest, bedroom-pop-like production stays patient and contained until it isn’t. Nisa muses, at first just above a whisper, about a deteriorating relationship; her voice is cushioned by synthesizer chords while guitar lines poke at her like unwanted realizations. But when the distorted strumming starts, the explosive breakup is inevitable. PARELESDram, ‘Let Me See Your Phone’The digital era enabled countless new avenues for surveillance and jealousy, and the R&B songwriter Dram sings about one in “Let Me See Your Phone.” The track uses slow-rolling, vintage soul chords, and Dram switches between earnest soul tenor and falsetto as he details an accusation — “When I look in your eyes/they don’t shine as bright as they used to” — and demands a forensic investigation: “Type in your passcode so I can see inside your soul.” Cheaters, by now, should understand that they should keep certain communications offline. PARELESOren Ambarchi, ‘I’“I” is the first and most austere segment of the 35-minute composition (and album) “Shebang” by the guitarist, composer and digital manipulator Oren Ambarchi. Although he’s joined by other instruments in the rest of the piece, most of “Shebang I” is guitar alone: restless staccato picking that’s multitracked, looped and digitally edited, building hypnotic polyrhythms around an unchanging chordal root. In the last minute, cymbals and other sounds join him, only hinting at what the rest of the piece will become. PARELESBill Frisell, ‘Waltz for Hal Willner’The guitarist Bill Frisell’s tribute to a longtime friend, the high-concept producer Hal Willner, brings the lightest possible touch to an elegy; it’s from his new album, “Four.” The harmonies are a slow, transparent cascade of clusters from Gerald Clayton on piano, while the drummer Johnathan Blake scatters cymbal taps against the waltzing lilt. Frisell shares the melody with Clayton and Gregory Tardy on tenor saxophone; each of them departs from the tune in brief, conversational asides before returning to what sounds like a fond, shared reminiscence. PARELES More

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    On ‘Fossora,’ Björk Is a Daughter, a Mother and a Universe

    The Icelandic visionary’s 10th studio album can be thorny and intense, but it finds hope across generations.No way around it: “Fossora,” Björk’s 10th studio album, can be heavy going, thorny and intense. But it’s well worth an effort.“Fossora” continues the songwriter, producer and multimedia visionary’s lifelong project of linking personal experience to larger natural and cosmic processes — to place herself in the universe and the universe within herself. It arrives five years after “Utopia,” a determinedly airy album featuring the sounds of birds and flutes. “Utopia” was a deliberate, gravity-defying rebound and contrast to Björk’s wounded, heartsick, string-laden 2015 album, “Vulnicura,” and “Fossora” is yet another self-conscious change of elemental direction.“Fossora,” derived from the Latin for “digger,” prizes earthiness: the fleshy physicality of life and death, pleasure and suffering, romantic and parental love. To ground the music, Björk’s new tracks often feature low-register instruments like bass clarinets and trombones (though flutes also reappear).Björk’s production and arrangements on “Fossora” present her at her most unapologetically abstruse: closer to contemporary chamber music than to pop, rock or dance music. Her melodies, as always, are bold, declarative, and delivered with passion and suspense. But on “Fossora,” Björk doesn’t necessarily center those melodies as the hooks they could be. And while she collaborates on some tracks with the Indonesian electronic producers Gabber Modus Operandi, she’s not aiming for dance-floor beats.In her new songs, the tempos often fluctuate organically, like breathing. And more than ever, Björk places her voice within a teeming musical ecosystem that’s likely to include a tangle of instrumental polyphony and layered vocals, with every element of the mix insisting on multiplicity.The songs on “Fossora” encompass mourning, self-assessment and hard-won connection and renewal. “Obstacles are just teaching us/So we can just merge even deeper,” Björk declares in “Ovule,” a stately, trombone-weighted consideration of personal and digital togetherness.For much of the album, Björk, 56, contemplates the 2018 death of her mother, Hildur Rúna Hauksdóttir, and her own generational roles as a child and a mother. (Björk’s children, Sindri and Isadora, appear among the album’s backing vocals.) In “Sorrowful Soil,” Björk summons overlapping, antiphonal choirs for a prismatic yet coolly scientific consideration of motherhood: “In a woman’s life she gets 400 eggs but only two or three nests.” It’s followed by “Ancestress,” with gamelan-like gongs and a string ensemble shadowing Björk’s vocal lines as she recalls moments of her mother’s life and death: “The machine of her breathed all night while she rested/and then it didn’t.”But the album also recognizes obstinate, essential life forces: love, hope and — as a biological analogue — subterranean fungal growth. The album’s graphics and the video for its opening song, “Atopos” (from the Greek for “out of place” or “unusual”), are full of mushroom imagery, and the title song of “Fossora” — an unlikely merger of neoclassical Stravinsky-like woodwinds, ricocheting vocals and sporadic and then brutal electronic thumps — boasts, “For millions of years we’ve been ejecting our spores.” In a song titled “Fungal City,” amid tendrils of clarinet countermelodies and pizzicato strings, Björk exults in a new romance, singing, “His vibrant optimism happens to be my faith too.”That optimism is by no means naïve. In “Victimhood,” the album’s darkest sonorities — six bass clarinets huffing and growling their lowest tones over an impassive ticktock beat — accompany and nearly engulf Björk’s vocals as she struggles with shattered expectations and longs for perspective: “I took one for the team/I sacrificed myself to safe us,” she sings. But she’s trying to “heed a call out of victimhood,” and she finds it as the song ends. Then celebratory flutes greet her in “Allow,” a paean to nurturing as healing: “Allow allow allow you to grow,” she sings. “Allow me to grow.”The album concludes with “Her Mother’s House,” an abstract near-lullaby that envisions children’s rooms as chambers of a mother’s heart. It intertwines the multitracked voices of Björk and her daughter, singing, “The more I love you, the better you will survive.” They find an evolutionary purpose in an emotional bond.“Fossora” doesn’t aim to be a crowd-pleaser. It’s hard to imagine these studio phantasms onstage (though Björk may well find a way). But Björk’s interior worlds are vast.Björk“Fossora”(One Little Independent) More

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    ‘Sirens’ Review: The Risk in Rocking Out in Beirut

    A documentary about an all-female metal group in Lebanon shows the difficulties of asserting complex identities in a repressive environment.“Sirens,” a documentary by Rita Baghdadi about Slaves to Sirens, an all-female metal group out of Beirut, Lebanon, opens in 2019 with the band united and happy — they’ve been invited by a record label to play a small stage at Glastonbury Festival in England. And while they wind up playing to a handful of people, the band gives its all.Slaves to Sirens is a five-piece, and its neon-haired singer, Maya Khairallah, nails the monster voice that’s so common in contemporary metal. But the movie’s focus is on the band’s two guitarists and main composers, Shery Bechara and Lilas Mayassi. Baghdadi (“My Country No More”) shows how difficult it is to assert their identities in a repressive environment.When the band returns home to Beirut, an environment in constant turmoil — one where they’re barely tolerated, if noticed at all — tensions emerge.Nobody in the band is getting any younger. Lilas still lives with her mother. She has to enact childish subterfuges when her Syrian girlfriend comes to visit to hide the true nature of her relationship. Shery, bristling at Lilas’s bossiness (and perhaps still hurt because the two were once romantically involved), quits.With few other choices, Lilas and Shery find their way back to each other, at least creatively. The ending, in which the reunited Sirens play before an enthusiastic crowd, is heart-tugging and rousing, even for non-metal heads.SirensNot rated. In Arabic and English, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 19 minutes. In theaters. More

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    Lizzo Plays New Notes on James Madison’s Crystal Flute from 1813

    A classically trained flutist, the singer, rapper and songwriter spent more than three hours admiring the flute collection at the Library of Congress. Madison’s instrument was made for the second inauguration by a Parisian craftsman.Lizzo looked uncharacteristically nervous as she crossed the stage in a glittering mesh leotard with tights and sequined combat boots.A classically trained flutist who began playing when she was in fifth grade and considered studying at the Paris Conservatory, she has woven flute into many of her songs, has played virtually with the New York Philharmonic, and her flute, named Sasha Flute, even has its own Instagram page.But waiting for her on Tuesday night was an exquisite (and highly breakable) musical instrument that had arrived at her concert in Washington under heavy security: a crystal flute that a French craftsman and clockmaker had made for President James Madison in 1813.“I’m scared,” Lizzo said, as she took the sparkling instrument from Carol Lynn Ward-Bamford, a curator at the Library of Congress, who had carefully removed the flute from its customized protective case. “It’s crystal. It’s like playing out of a wine glass.”As the crowd roared, Lizzo played a note, stuck out her tongue in amazement, and then played another note, trilling it as she twerked in front of thousands of cheering fans. She then carried the flute over her head, giving the crowd at Capital One Arena one last look, before handing it back to Ms. Ward-Bamford.“I just twerked and played James Madison’s crystal flute from the 1800s,” Lizzo proclaimed. “We just made history tonight.”It was a symbolic moment as Lizzo, a hugely popular Black singer, rapper and songwriter, played a priceless instrument that had once belonged to a founder whose Virginia plantation was built by enslaved Black workers. And the flute had been lent to her by Carla D. Hayden, the first African American and first woman to lead the Library of Congress.The moment came together after Dr. Hayden asked Lizzo on Friday to visit the library’s flute collection, the largest in the world, with about 1,700 of the instruments.Dr. Hayden wrote on Twitter: “@lizzo we would love for you to come see it and even play a couple when you are in DC next week. Like your song they are ‘Good as hell.’”Lizzo responded without much hesitation.“IM COMING CARLA! AND IM PLAYIN THAT CRYSTAL FLUTE!!!!!” she wrote.Lizzo arrived on Monday, with her mother and members of her band. Dr. Hayden and staff members ushered her into the “flute vault,” and gave her a tour of the collection, which includes fifes, piccolos and a flute shaped like a walking stick, which Lizzo said she might want as a Christmas present.Lizzo spent more than three hours at the library, trying out several instruments, staff members said.She played a piccolo from John Philip Sousa’s band that was used to play the solo at the premiere of his song, “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” And she played a plexiglass flute, made in 1937, filling the ornate Main Reading Room and marble Great Hall with music, to the delight of library workers and a handful of researchers who happened to be there.“Just the enthusiasm that Lizzo brought to seeing the flute collection and how curious she was about it,” Ms. Ward-Bamford said in an interview on Wednesday. “It’s been wonderful.”Most of the collection — including Madison’s crystal flute — was donated in 1941 by Dayton C. Miller, a physicist, astronomer and ardent collector of flutes.The flute’s silver joint is engraved with Madison’s name, title and the year 1813.Library of CongressMadison’s flute had been made for his second inauguration by Claude Laurent, a Parisian craftsman who believed that glass flutes would hold their pitch and tone better than flutes made of wood or ivory, which were common at the time.The flute’s silver joint is engraved with Madison’s name, title and the year 1813. “It’s not clear if Madison did much with the flute other than admire it, but it became a family heirloom and an artifact of the era,” the library said.The library believes that the first lady, Dolley Madison, might have rescued the flute from the White House in 1814, when the British entered Washington during the War of 1812, although it has not found documentation to confirm the theory.Only 185 of Mr. Laurent’s glass flutes remain, the library said, and his crystal flutes are especially rare. The Library of Congress has 17 Laurent flutes, it said.When Lizzo asked if she could play Madison’s crystal flute at her concert on Tuesday, the library’s collection, preservation and security teams swung into action, ensuring the instrument could be safely delivered to her onstage.“It was a lot thrilling and a little bit scary,” Ms. Ward-Bamford said.Or as Lizzo told her cheering fans after she played the instrument: “Thank you to the Library of Congress for preserving our history and making history freaking cool. History is freaking cool, you guys.” More

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    Ray Edenton, ‘A-Team’ Studio Guitarist in Nashville, Dies at 95

    In a career that spanned four decades, he played on thousands of sessions and accompanied many of the biggest names in country music.NASHVILLE — Ray Edenton, a versatile session guitarist who played on thousands of recordings by artists like the Everly Brothers, Charley Pride, Neil Young and Patsy Cline, died on Sept. 21 at the home of his son, Ray Q. Edenton, in Goodlettsville, Tenn. He was 95.His death was confirmed by his daughter, Ronda Hardcastle.A longtime member of Nashville’s so-called A-Team of first-call studio professionals, Mr. Edenton contributed discreet, empathetic rhythm guitar to myriad hits in a career that spanned four decades. His name was less known than his musicianship, but generations of listeners knew the records he helped make famous, a body of work estimated to exceed 10,000 sessions.Ms. Cline’s “Sweet Dreams,” Webb Pierce’s “There Stands the Glass,” Kenny Rogers’s “The Gambler,” Roger Miller’s “King of the Road” and Loretta Lynn’s “You Ain’t Woman Enough” were among the blockbuster country singles, many of them also pop crossover successes, that featured his guitar work.“I did 22 sessions in five days one week,” Mr. Edenton, who retired in 1991 at age 65, said in looking back on his years as a studio musician during an interview at an event held in his honor at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum in Nashville in 2007.“That’s four a day for three days and five a day for two days,” he went on. “You don’t go home on five-a-days, you sleep on the couch in the studio.”On the Everly Brothers’ “Wake Up Little Susie” and “Bye Bye Love,” both of which reached the pop, country and R&B Top 10 in 1957, Mr. Edenton played driving, syncopated acoustic guitar riffs alongside Don Everly.“I lived for quite a few years off those licks I stole from Don,” he said at the 2007 event.It was in fact the two men matching each other note for note that gave those big-beat Everly classics their distinctive stamp.Although primarily a rhythm guitarist, Mr. Edenton was occasionally featured on lead guitar, notably on Marty Robbins’s 1956 recording “Singing the Blues,” which was galvanized by his careening electric guitar solo. His lead work on 12-string acoustic guitar was heard on George Hamilton IV’s 1963 hit “Abilene” — a record that, like “Singing the Blues,” topped the country chart and also reached the pop Top 20.Mr. Edenton was also a songwriter. His chief credit was “You’re Running Wild,” a Top 10 country single for the Louvin Brothers, written with his brother-in-law at the time, Don Winters, in 1956. (He also played rhythm guitar on the recording.)Mr. Edenton in the studio with the singer Charlie Louvin. He co-wrote “You’re Running Wild,” a Top 10 country single for Mr. Louvin and his brother Ira, in 1956.Hubert Long Collection, Country Music Hall of Fame and MuseumMr. Edenton’s work as a session musician reached beyond country music, with singers like Julie Andrews, Rosemary Clooney, Sammy Davis Jr. as well as rock acts like Elvis Presley, Roy Orbison and the Sir Douglas Quintet. He played on Mr. Young’s acclaimed 1978 album, “Comes a Time.”He also took part in the Nashville sessions that produced the album “Tennessee Firebird,” a pioneering fusion of country and jazz released by the vibraphonist Gary Burton in 1967.“Everybody in the world came here, and we recorded with all of them,” Mr. Edenton said of Nashville’s studios in his Country Music Hall of Fame interview. “You might do a pop session in the morning and bluegrass in the afternoon and rock ’n’ roll at night.”In 2007, Mr. Edenton, who played mandolin, ukulele and banjo as well as guitar, was inducted with the rest of the A-Team into the Musicians Hall of Fame.Ray Quarles Edenton was born on Nov. 3, 1926, in Mineral, Va., a gold-mining town about 50 miles northwest of Richmond. He was the youngest of four children of Tom Edenton, a sawmill operator, and Laura (Quarles) Edenton, a homemaker.Young Ray taught himself to play ukulele and guitar at an early age and later provided music for square dances with his two older brothers, who played fiddle and guitar.In 1946, after serving in the Army, he joined a band called the Rodeo Rangers, which performed at dances and on the radio in Maryland and Virginia. Two years later he became the bassist for the Korn Krackers, an ensemble led by the guitarist Joe Maphis that appeared on the Richmond radio show “Old Dominion Barn Dance.” He began working at WNOX in Knoxville in 1949 before being treated for tuberculosis in a Veterans Administration hospital, where he spent 28 months.Mr. Edenton with the singer Jeanne Pruett and others. “Everybody in the world came here, and we recorded with all of them,” Mr. Edenton said. “You might do a pop session in the morning, and bluegrass in the afternoon, and rock ’n’ roll at night.”Hubert Long Collection, Country Music Hall of Fame and MuseumMr. Edenton moved to Nashville in 1952 and became a guitarist at the Grand Ole Opry while also working in the touring bands of, among other luminaries, Hank Williams and Ray Price. A notable early recording session was “One by One,” a honky-tonk weeper that was a No. 1 country hit for Red Foley and Kitty Wells in 1954.Most country acts of the era did not feature drummers in their lineups. Mr. Edenton’s nimble, unobtrusive guitar playing, inspired by the cadences of a snare drum, created a steady demand for his services among record companies, especially when he was tapped to fill the vacancy created on the A-Team when the guitarist Hank Garland suffered disabling injuries in a car accident in 1961.Besides his daughter and his son, Mr. Edenton is survived by his wife of almost 50 years, Polly Roper Edenton. His marriage to Rita Winters, a country singer who performed under the name Rita Robbins, ended in divorce.“People often ask me about session musicians and why, back in those days, only a few people made all the records,” Mr. Edenton said in 2007, reflecting on his heyday with Nashville’s A-Team.“It was several things. You had to learn real quick. You had to adapt real quick. And if you couldn’t do that, you couldn’t do sessions.” More

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    Tedeschi Trucks Band Brings Something New to the Beacon: A Four-Part LP

    “I Am the Moon,” inspired by the 12th century Persian poem “Layla and Majnun,” gave the roots rockers focus, perspective and a host of new songs to play at their New York residency.In August 2019, Tedeschi Trucks Band performed “Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs” — the 1970 double album by Eric Clapton’s group Derek and the Dominos — in its entirety at the Lockn’ Festival in Virginia.The record is particularly meaningful to the married couple at the heart of Tedeschi Trucks: Derek Trucks (whose name was inspired by the Dominos) had played much of the material as a member of Clapton’s touring band; the second lead guitarist on the recordings was Duane Allman, founder of the Allman Brothers Band, in which Trucks played for 15 years with his uncle, Butch, on drums. Susan Tedeschi, meanwhile, was born on the very day the album was released.When the pandemic struck seven months later, the 12 members of the hard-touring Tedeschi Trucks Band were scattered and stuck at home for an indefinite future, so the guitarist and vocalist Mike Mattison suggested they all read something together and see what ideas or inspiration it might spark. The text he proposed was the 12th century Persian poem “Layla and Majnun,” which gave the beloved album its title and central theme of unrequited love. Clapton likened the epic narrative to his own infatuation with Pattie Boyd, the wife of his best friend, George Harrison.The group, which blends Americana, roots- and blues-rock, had never used this kind of writing prompt, never tried to write in such a directed fashion. But as the lockdown dragged on, the exercise unleashed a wild creative outburst, eventually leading to 24 new songs, which were released over the summer as a series of four albums titled “I Am the Moon,” each with its own companion film. The final installment, subtitled “Farewell,” came out earlier this month, along with a boxed set that encompasses the entire project.“It was a hard reset for us,” Trucks said in a recent telephone call from the home that he, Tedeschi, and their two children share in Jacksonville, Fla. “Between that music being so important to us personally and the amount of isolation and madness in the story, it seemed to resonate with us and with the whole world in a lot of ways.”In a separate call, Tedeschi pointed to the parallels between the scope of the poem and the past few years. “Here’s all of us in isolation, at home, contemplating everything that’s going on,” she said. “And you have Layla and Majnun, who are separated, and he’s out in the desert by himself, going mad and losing his mental health. She’s locked away in a tower and can’t be with the person she wants to be with. And her dad and these other men basically tell her what she can do — we haven’t really come that far since the 12th century. So it seemed like we could go in a hundred different directions, but still be coming from that same source.”Starting this Thursday, the material from “I Am the Moon” — much of it being played live for the first time — will be the centerpiece of a seven-show stand by Tedeschi Trucks Band at the Beacon Theater, the 11th time in their career that the group will perform a multiple-night run at the Upper West Side landmark. (The Oct. 3 show will mark their 50th appearance at the venue.) It’s an extension of a tradition started by the Allman Brothers, who played more than 230 shows at the Beacon over 25 years, a familiar setting for the freewheeling, Grammy-winning ensemble to settle in and stretch out.Trucks, 43, has influences that extend far beyond American roots music into Indian and Eastern styles and avant-garde jazz (two installments of the “I Am the Moon” series have subtitles, “Crescent” and “Ascension,” borrowed from John Coltrane album titles). He joined the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Allman Brothers Band in 1999, before turning 20.Tedeschi, 51, came up in Boston as more of a straight-ahead blues player. She has six Grammy nominations of her own, and as a solo act, opened for the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan. The couple were married in 2001 and, after touring together as the Soul Stew Revival, they merged their groups into Tedeschi Trucks Band in 2010.“Susan and Derek both always seem to go to the place you want to go when playing music, and the whole band is with them at every step,” Norah Jones wrote in an email. “It’s that magical space above the norm that only can exist when one is open to a true musical exchange onstage. Everyone appreciates what everyone else is doing and it’s obvious. And the way Susan’s voice slices through the huge sound of the band and just soars is unreal.”There’s often been a sense, though, that the band’s recordings haven’t matched what they’re capable of onstage. “That’s kind of been the rap on our group,” Mattison said, “that we’re a great touring band and a great live band and when it comes time to do an album, we kind of go, ‘Oh, what are we going to do?’ The creative part, generating songs and things, has always kind of been an afterthought, but this time it was really intentional. At first, we didn’t quite know how to do it, but it took it on its own logic and started fueling itself.”Tesechi and Trucks agreed that diving into the themes of “Layla and Majnun” had an impact beyond the music, forcing them to think harder about their own marriage and relationships. “It actually made us stronger, and made us better listeners to each other,” Tedeschi said. “It made us incredibly thankful for our band, and for each other and our kids, but at the same time, it made you see the weaknesses and the strengths, and start working on the things that you have to work on. I think it was a healing thing for all of us.”“The Beacon is home turf in a lot of ways, but it’s always a little bit intimidating because there’s so much history there,” Trucks said.Anna Ottum for The New York TimesTrucks went further. “I think it kind of saved the band,” he said, pausing for the screeching sound of a hawk fight happening overhead. “I’m not really sure what we would have done if we had come out of the pandemic without new material and a new outlook. I’m not sure how long we would have just plugged away, business as usual.”Bringing the “I Am the Moon” material and this re-energized attitude to the Beacon residency comes with both excitement and a certain degree of pressure. “The Beacon is home turf in a lot of ways, but it’s always a little bit intimidating because there’s so much history there,” Trucks said.“Every one of those dressing rooms I have memories in, whether it’s our son, Charlie, being there when he was 10 or 12 days old or introducing Gregg and Butch to our kids,” he added, referring to Allman and his uncle. “There’s not many corners I can turn in the Beacon where some image doesn’t come to mind of important moments in my life — and lately, a lot of times that’s with people that aren’t here anymore, so you feel those ghosts.”Extended stays in one city (the band also does annual shows at the Chicago Theater) often lead to surprise guests or unexpected song choices. “I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen,” Tedeschi said, “but that’s kind of the fun of it. I’m going to call up some of my friends and see who shows up.”Trucks notes, however, that even before adding any other elements to the Beacon shows, the dozen or so songs from “I Am the Moon” that they still needed to rehearse would make things unpredictable enough. “When you’re doing seven nights, it forces you to dig deep,” he said. “But this year, we have so much new material, there’s already a built-in to-do list. We’re already on the high wire.” More

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    K-pop Queens Blackpink Hit No. 1 With CDs and ‘Signed’ Digital Albums

    The girl group tops the Billboard 200 for the first time with “Born Pink,” which had 102,000 equivalent sales — including 64,000 on CD.It may be a streaming world, but getting to No. 1 on the Billboard album chart these days often comes down to selling a lot of vinyl LPs or even those semi-passé silver data platters known as CDs.Back in April, Tyler, the Creator catapulted 119 spots to the top when his album “Call Me if You Get Lost” came out on vinyl nearly a year after its initial release. The following month, Harry Styles’s “Harry’s House” had solid streaming numbers but relied on vinyl to nab the year’s biggest opening (still). And in June, the K-pop kings BTS landed at No. 1 with mediocre streams but big CD sales of a compilation album, “Proof.”This week, another K-pop group, the four-woman Blackpink, rockets to the top with physical sales.“Born Pink,” the quartet’s second full-length studio album, becomes its first No. 1 on the Billboard 200 chart with the equivalent of 102,000 sales in the United States, according to the tracking service Luminate. That total includes 37 million streams — a modest sum, representing only about a quarter of the group’s composite sales number for the week. The rest is attributed to old-fashioned purchases of “Born Pink” as a compete unit, including 64,000 made for the 17 different configurations of the album on CD.As Billboard noted, many of these CD editions came in collectible packages — with alternative covers, autographs and other goodies like postcards and stickers — that were initially priced as high as $50, but were discounted over the course of last week. Blackpink also sold a “signed digital album” through its website for $4.99, and marked its standard downloadable album down to $3.99.Those sales helped push “Born Pink” past Bad Bunny’s “Un Verano Sin Ti,” the streaming behemoth that has occupied the top slot on and off for 11 weeks. In its 20th week on the chart, “Un Verano” falls to No. 2 with the equivalent of 93,000 sales, mostly from streams.Another K-pop group, NCT 127, opens at No. 3 this week with “2 Baddies”; most of its 58,500 equivalent sales were for CDs, with the album’s 12 tracks garnering fewer than four million streams. By comparison, the 23-track “Verano” has been averaging 130 million to 140 million clicks a week for the last couple of months.Morgan Wallen’s “Dangerous: The Double Album” is in fourth place, notching its 88th time in the Top 10 since early 2021. Since the Billboard 200 began in 1956, only five other titles have appeared more times in the chart’s Top 10. All of them were movie soundtracks or Broadway cast recordings from 1965 or before, like “South Pacific,” with 90 weeks charting that high, and “My Fair Lady,” with 173.Also this week, the Weeknd’s hits collection “The Highlights” is No. 5. More