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    Sophie, Who Pushed the Boundaries of Pop Music, Dies at 34

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storySophie, Who Pushed the Boundaries of Pop Music, Dies at 34As a producer and performer, Sophie distilled speed, noise, melody and clarity, working simultaneously at the experimental fringes of dance music and the center of pop.Sophie onstage at Coachella in 2019. Her 2018 album, “Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides,” was nominated for a Grammy for best dance/electronic album.Credit…Rich Fury/Getty Images for CoachellaPublished More

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    Hear Sophie’s 12 Essential Songs

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyPlaylistHear Sophie’s 12 Essential SongsThe producer and performer’s short but influential career had a profound impact on the way modern pop music sounds. She died after a fall in Athens.Sophie’s fascinations with the musicality of hyper-feminized speech and the plasticky found-materials of late-capitalist consumer culture made their way into her music.Credit…Frazer Harrison/Getty Images for CoachellaJan. 31, 2021On Saturday, the forward-thinking pop producer and musician Sophie died after an accident in Athens. She was 34. “True to her spirituality,” her family wrote in a statement, “she had climbed up to watch the full moon and accidentally slipped and fell.” The story was at once tragic and beautiful, full of pain, shock and underneath it all an almost otherworldly yearning. It was like a Sophie song.Sophie may not have been a household name, but over her short career she had a profound and transformative effect on the way modern pop music sounds. Since emerging with her frenetic breakout single “Bipp” in 2013, the Scottish producer, who was based in Los Angeles, went on to work with artists like Madonna, Vince Staples and Charli XCX. As a solo artist, Sophie’s pioneering music was perhaps poised for a larger crossover; her 2018 album “Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides” was nominated for a best dance/electronic album Grammy. Her influence can be heard in both the instant gratification of 100 gecs’ hyperpop and the energetic hooks of the K-pop boom.Sophie’s production brimmed with ideas. Where others perceived shallow surfaces, she saw oceanic depths — in the musicality of hyper-feminized speech, in the augmented honesty of artifice, in the plasticky found materials of late-capitalist consumer culture. She had a keen, wry ear for the overlap between the language of desire and the language of modern advertising, and her songs sometimes sounded like commercial jingles from other planets: “If you need that something but don’t know what it is, shake shake shake it up and make it fizz,” went the infectious “Vyzee,” ad infinitum.When she first arrived, shrouded in anonymity within the male-dominated world of electronic music, people wondered about Sophie’s gender. In late 2017, she announced, via interviews and the openhearted synth-ballad “It’s Okay to Cry,” that she was a transgender woman. Her early singles had reveled in the fluidity of femininity and masculinity, as well as softness and hardness, and suddenly it seemed that the aesthetics she’d toyed with in her music were related to the private process of becoming herself. There was beauty in that, and a palpable liberation when she stepped into the spotlight.“For me, transness is taking control to bring your body more in line with your soul and spirit so the two aren’t fighting against each other and struggling to survive,” she said in an interview with Paper magazine around that time. “On this earth, it’s that you can get closer to how you feel your true essence is without the societal pressures of having to fulfill certain traditional roles based on gender. It means you’re not a mother or a father — you’re an individual who’s looking at the world and feeling the world.”From her solo material and her production work for other artists, here are some of her essential tracks.‘Bipp’ (2013)In June 2013, on the Scottish electronic label Numbers, “Bipp” emerged out of nowhere — from a void as blank and alive with possibility as its cover art’s white background. The track felt as much like a club banger as a mad-scientist’s laboratory experiment. Hyper-processed percussion and cheerleader-chant vocals pinged off each other as though they were both made of Flubber. “I can make you feel better, if you let me,” intoned a choppy, high-pitched vocal, inviting the listener to succumb to the song’s strange promise of ecstasy.‘Lemonade’ (2014)A year later, Sophie released a track as explosively fizzy as a Diet-Coke-and-Mentos cocktail. “Lemonade” dialed up the more polarizing aspects of her aesthetic: The surface sheen was even more synthetic, the vocals even higher-pitched and the rhythm — which careened from a trap cadence to a sped-up pop hook — was as erratic as it was exhilarating.‘Hard’ (2014)Electronic music sometimes has a reputation for being self-serious, but many of Sophie’s songs crackled with oddball humor. “Hard,” the kinetic B-side to “Lemonade,” was among them. It was at once a slinky, vividly tactile ode to B.D.S.M. — “latex gloves, smack so hard” — and a sly joke on the gender binary, as an ultra-femme, helium-like voice intones, “Hard, hard, I get so hard.”QT, ‘Hey QT’ (2014)By 2014, Sophie had become closely associated with PC Music, a buzzy Britain-based collective of electronic musicians and producers who blend the cerebral archness of the avant-garde with the earnest, mass-catharsis of pop musical product. QT was a short-lived project that united Sophie with the PC Music figurehead and producer A.G. Cook, along with Hayden Frances Dunham, who was “playing” a pop star named QT who also happened to be the spokeswoman for an invented energy elixir called DrinkQT.The song is a jubilant sugar rush, but some skeptics wondered if Sophie and Cook were becoming too bogged down by ideas and irony, and in the process alienating potential listeners. Sophie confounded her critics even more, though, when “Lemonade” was used in a 2015 web commercial for … McDonald’s lemonade. “People were furious,” Sophie recalled in a Vulture interview a few years later. “But I don’t think that compromises anything in the music.” She added, “If you can do two things with it, give it meaning for yourself according to the perspectives you want to share and also have it function on the mass market, and therefore expose your message to more people in a less elitist context, then that is an ideal place to be.”‘Just Like We Never Said Goodbye’ (2015)When she gave her 2015 singles collection the cheeky, Warholian title “Product,” Sophie was once again winking at the perceived chasm between art and consumer culture. But its final track — the wrenching and glittery millennial-pop heartbreaker “Just Like We Never Said Goodbye” — was a preview of what was to come from her later solo material, and proof that as much as she indulged in ideas, she was also an expert conjurer of big, sincere emotions.Madonna featuring Nicki Minaj, ‘Bitch I’m Madonna’ (2015)In 2015, Sophie’s innovative sound had trickled so far into the mainstream that even the Material Girl herself wanted a piece. “Bitch I’m Madonna,” the enjoyably brash single from the pop superstar’s 13th studio album, “Rebel Heart,” remains perhaps the most high-profile track that Sophie worked on. Though she shared a writing credit with half a dozen other collaborators, and though the chorus’s here’s-the-drop structure is audibly time-stamped 2010s Diplo, the plastic-affect verses, bouncy pre-chorus and spirited self-referentiality bear the distinct marks of Sophie.Charli XCX, ‘Vroom Vroom’ (2016)Charli XCX proved to be an even more simpatico pop collaborator and muse. She and Sophie worked together on a handful of bubbly one-off tracks — “No Angel,” “Girls Night Out” — as well as the entirety of Charli’s experimental 2016 EP “Vroom Vroom.” This sleek and kinetic title track is built like a custom ride for Charli’s distinct musical personality.Vince Staples featuring Kendrick Lamar, ‘Yeah Right’ (2017)Though Sophie worked more frequently with pop artists than rappers, she produced two tracks on the sonically adventurous Compton M.C. Vince Staples’s 2017 album “Big Fish Theory,” including “Yeah Right” (which also featured contributions from the Australian D.J. and producer Flume). After Kendrick Lamar sent along his guest verse, Sophie told Paper Magazine, “We edited the vocals and tried to overproduce the song. They wanted it a bit more raw, but then they left it anyway and people liked it. Vince was playing it all the time.”‘It’s Okay to Cry’ (2017)The poignant first single from Sophie’s “Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides” was something of a coming-out party. Stepping from the hazy shadows of her early work, Sophie placed herself and her shock of carrot-red hair at the center of the project — singing lead vocal and starring in the song’s music video, which managed to be both vulnerable and vampy at the same time. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” she sang atop a glimmering synth arpeggio, “but I think your inside is your best side.”‘Faceshopping’ (2018)Like the thrilling “Ponyboy,” “Faceshopping” was an “Oil”-era take on the harder, more industrial side of Sophie’s sound. The song’s chanted, deadpan vocals are something of a callback to “Lemonade,” but here the language of consumption and advertising blends even more subversively with reflections on identity and self-creation: “My face is the front of shop,” she announces, “I’m real when I shop my face.” In Vulture, Sophie mused, “That’s a running theme in this music — questioning preconceptions about what’s real and authentic. What’s natural and what’s unnatural and what’s artificial, in terms of music, in terms of gender, in terms of reality, I suppose.”‘Immaterial’ (2018)A deliriously catchy, knowing Madonna nod (“immaterial girls, immaterial boys”) that doubles as a meditation on the connection between body and soul — what could be more quintessentially Sophie than that?‘Bipp (Autechre Remix)’ (2021)In 2015, Sophie established a personal credo about remixes of her work: She wanted none, “unless it’s Autechre.” Five years later, the British electronic duo sent back their take on “Bipp” with the note, “Sorry this is so late. Hope it’s still of some use.” Just days before Sophie’s death, it was released along with a previously unreleased B-side of her own, “Unisil.” Slow and sparse, the remix is a loving homage from two of her musical heroes, and proof that even Sophie’s earliest work still sounds like the future.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Kodak Black Celebrates Clemency From Trump, and 10 More New Songs

    @media (pointer: coarse) { .at-home-nav__outerContainer { overflow-x: scroll; -webkit-overflow-scrolling: touch; } } .at-home-nav__outerContainer { position: relative; display: flex; align-items: center; /* Fixes IE */ overflow-x: auto; box-shadow: -6px 0 white, 6px 0 white, 1px 3px 6px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.15); padding: 10px 1.25em 10px; transition: all 250ms; margin-bottom: 20px; -ms-overflow-style: none; /* IE 10+ */ […] More

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    Jerry Brandt, Whose Music Clubs Captured a Moment, Dies at 82

    #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }The Coronavirus OutbreakliveLatest UpdatesMaps and CasesSee Your Local RiskVaccine InformationWuhan, One Year LaterAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyThose We’ve LostJerry Brandt, Whose Music Clubs Captured a Moment, Dies at 82Energizing Manhattan night life, he opened the Electric Circus in 1967 and the Ritz 13 years later. He died of Covid-19.The promoter Jerry Brandt, right, with Tina Turner and Keith Richards in 1984 at the Ritz, the East Village club Mr. Brandt opened in 1980.Credit…Bob GruenJan. 28, 2021Updated 5:52 p.m. ETJerry Brandt, a promoter and entrepreneur who owned two nightclubs, the Electric Circus and the Ritz, that were attention-getting parts of New York’s music scene in their day, died on Jan. 16 in Miami Beach. He was 82.His family said in a statement that the cause was Covid-19.Mr. Brandt made a career of trying to catch whatever wave was cresting on the pop-culture scene. With the Electric Circus, which he opened in 1967 on St. Marks Place in the East Village, it was psychedelia. With the Ritz, opened in 1980 a few blocks away, it was the exploding music scene of the MTV decade, with the shows he staged there — Parliament-Funkadelic, U2, Tina Turner, Ozzy Osbourne, Frank Zappa and countless others — reflecting the exploratory energy of the time.Not all his big bets paid off. Perhaps his best-known debacle was Jobriath, a gay performer whom Mr. Brandt backed with a lavish promotional campaign in 1973 and ’74, hoping to create an American version of David Bowie’s androgynous Ziggy Stardust persona. The concertgoing and record-buying public soundly rejected the attempt to manufacture a star, and Jobriath, whose real name was Bruce Campbell, faded quickly.But Mr. Brandt’s successes, especially with the Ritz, caught their cultural moment and propelled it forward. At the Ritz, he not only booked an expansive range of bands; he also brought new technologies into the mix.“The Ritz opened May 14, 1980, with a video screen the size of the proscenium arch it hung from,” the WFUV disc jockey Delphine Blue, who was a Ritz D.J. for five years, said by email. “On it were projected cartoons, movie bits, psychedelic montages, while the D.J.s played records and jockeyed back and forth with the V.J., who played music videos. This was over a year before the debut of MTV in August of 1981.”There was, she said, a rope dancer who was lowered from the ceiling. There was a cameraman lugging a huge video camera around the dance floor, capturing the dancers and projecting the images on the big screen. The club was often packed and the chaos barely controlled. Sometimes it was not controlled at all.“A full house at the Ritz began throwing bottles at the club’s video screen two weeks ago when the British band Public Image Ltd. performed behind the screen, refused to come out from behind it and taunted the audience,” The New York Times reported in the spring of 1981. “Several fans then stormed the stage, ripping down the screen and destroying equipment. There was a moment of near-panic on the crowded dance floor, though apparently no one was hurt.”Mr. Brandt was the center of it all.“Jerry,” Ms. Blue said simply, “was the P.T. Barnum of nightclubs.”Mr. Brandt made a career of trying to catch whatever wave was cresting on the pop-culture scene. With the Electric Circus, which he opened in 1967, it was psychedelia.Credit…Larry C. Morris/The New York TimesJerome Jack Mair was born on Jan. 29, 1938, in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, to Jack and Anna (Cohen) Mair. His father, Mr. Brandt wrote in his memoir, “It’s a Short Walk From Brooklyn, if You Run” (2014), left when he was 5. When his mother subsequently married Harold Brandt, Jerry took his stepfather’s name.After graduating from Lafayette High School in Brooklyn, he served in the Army from 1956 to 1958. Back in New York, he eventually got a job as a waiter at the Town Hill, a Brooklyn club that featured top Black performers like Sam Cooke and Dinah Washington.“It was a dream come true,” he wrote in his memoir. “I could see great performers and make money at the same time. It made me realize that I wanted to be in the music business.”The Coronavirus Outbreak More

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    Arlo Parks Offers Solace Without Illusions on Her Debut Album

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyCritic’s PickArlo Parks Offers Solace Without Illusions on Her Debut AlbumThe 20-year-old English songwriter faces down despair on “Collapsed in Sunbeams.”Arlo Parks’s mission as a songwriter is to merge careful observation with clearheaded uplift.Credit…Kalpesh Lathigra for The New York TimesJan. 28, 2021Collapsed in SunbeamsNYT Critic’s PickArlo Parks wrote her own job description into the closing song on “Collapsed in Sunbeams,” her debut album. “Making rainbows out of something painful,” she sings in “Portra 400.” The song is named after a Kodak color-negative film: a way to preserve images. Parks’s mission as a songwriter is to merge careful observation with clearheaded uplift, trying to provide solace without illusions. “I know you can’t let go of anything at the moment,” she counsels in “Hurt,” then adds, “Just know it won’t hurt so much forever.”Parks, 20, was born Anaïs Oluwatoyin Estelle Marinho in Paris. Her father is Nigerian; her mother is Chadian-French. She grew up in London, and in her teens she turned from poetry to writing songs and constructing beats. In 2018 she released her debut single, a coolheaded post-breakup song named “Cola,” which reappeared on “Super Sad Generation,” the first of two EPs she released in 2019. The title song portrayed teenagers with low expectations: still unformed but already jaded, taking drugs and “trying to keep our friends from death” while “killing time and losing our paychecks.”Parks moved back in with her parents during Britain’s Covid-19 lockdown and returned to writing music in her old bedroom, sporadically releasing some of the songs from “Collapsed in Sunbeams,” including “Hurt,” during 2020. Her main collaborator on the new album, Gianluca Buccellati, produced much of the music in his home studio. (Clairo, herself a bedroom-pop expert, joined them on one song, and Parks wrote two others with Paul Epworth, one of Adele’s collaborators.)As on Parks’s EPs, the music on her album is restrained but far from austere. She coos the melodies over low-slung hip-hop beats and guitars that can tangle like indie-rock or syncopate like funk; she makes no secret of her fondness for Radiohead along with R&B. Meanwhile, her vocals arrive in layers of unison and harmony and from all directions in the mix, conjuring both solidarity and spaciousness. Her music inhabits a private sphere, but not an isolated one.Parks’s songs often place her as a friend or bystander, watching characters in uneasy situations, sometimes titled with her characters’ names. In “Caroline,” set to guitar picking that hints at Radiohead’s “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi,” she watches a couple having a bitter fight in public, with the man finally shouting, “Caroline, I swear to God I tried!” In “For Violet,” over ominous bass tones and crackly vinyl static, she’s helpless to shield her neighbor whose “dad got angry”; all she can do is play soothing music for her over the phone and remind her, “Wait — when college starts again you’ll manage.” In “Black Dog” — Winston Churchill’s phrase for his depression — she struggles to rescue a friend struggling with mental illness: “It’s so cruel what your mind can do for no reason,” she sings. And in “Eugene,” the singer seethes with jealousy when a girlfriend she grew up with — and dreams of kissing — turns to a boyfriend instead.Romance is iffy at best in Parks’ songs. “Too Good,” written with Epworth, depicts a potential relationship going sour over a suave funk groove: “The air was fragrant and thick with our silence,” Park lilts. In “Bluish,” she contends with a partner so clingy she feels strangled. And in “Just Go,” an ex returns “begging me to change my mind,” but the singer stays skeptical and unforgiving. “I knew you hadn’t changed that much,” she sings, with a shrug in her voice.“Hope” is as close as the album gets to an anthem, and it’s not close at all. As it cycles through a few descending piano chords over a hip-hop backbeat, Parks sings about someone named Mary who’s joyless, isolated and deeply depressed. Midway through, in a spoken-word passage, she confesses to feeling the same, to “wearing suffering like a silk garment.” The best she can offer is empathy. “You’re not alone like you think you are,” she sings. “We all have scars/I know it’s hard.” Somehow, there’s comfort in that.Arlo Parks“Collapsed in Sunbeams”(Transgressive/PIAS)AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Flaming Lips Use of Plastic Bubbles at Concerts Leave Covid-19 Experts Unsure

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    Tamara Lindeman's New Album 'Ignorance' Explores Climate Change

    @media (pointer: coarse) { .at-home-nav__outerContainer { overflow-x: scroll; -webkit-overflow-scrolling: touch; } } .at-home-nav__outerContainer { position: relative; display: flex; align-items: center; /* Fixes IE */ overflow-x: auto; box-shadow: -6px 0 white, 6px 0 white, 1px 3px 6px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.15); padding: 10px 1.25em 10px; transition: all 250ms; margin-bottom: 20px; -ms-overflow-style: none; /* IE 10+ */ […] More