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    Mitski Is More Than TikTok

    Mitski moved to Nashville. She’s not quite sure why, because she didn’t really know anyone there, but she liked how specifically weird it was — a town with stories. A local businessman had recently died and left his substantial estate to his Border collie. Bachelorette parties were a surreal and ever-present cottage industry: “There’s always a woman crying on the street and five other women in matching T-shirts comforting her,” as Mitski put it to me. “It feels like such a good place to observe the human condition.” More

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    How the ‘Encanto’ Soundtrack Became a Smash

    With its eighth week at No. 1 on Billboard’s album chart, the LP featuring songs from Lin-Manuel Miranda is a lesson in how fans drive hits from social media to streaming services.The soundtrack to Disney’s “Encanto” had an inauspicious start on the Billboard 200 album chart, arriving at No. 197 after the animated film’s release in November, just below Bob Seger’s “Greatest Hits” and a Notorious B.I.G. reissue.But this week the soundtrack, featuring songs by Lin-Manuel Miranda and a score by Germaine Franco, notches its eighth week at No. 1 — one of only three albums with a run this long in the last five years — while Miranda’s song “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” slipped to second place on the Hot 100 singles chart after five times at the top.What happened in between is an object lesson in how songs become hits now, with tracks elevated by fans through streaming and social media, and radio often lagging behind the curve.For “Encanto” and “Bruno,” the key factor was TikTok. Soon after the film became available for streaming on Disney+ on Christmas Eve, fans shared their reflections there and acted out scenes from the movie, about an extended family in Colombia that has been touched by magic.“The first instance on TikTok was people posting that these characters look like me and my family, that I’m seeing myself in this picture,” said Ken Bunt, president of the Disney Music Group. “Then it fairly quickly moved into another phase, where people were doing the dances and singing to it.”Explore the World of ‘Encanto’Disney’s new film, about a gifted family in Colombia, pairs stunning animation with spellbinding songs by Lin-Manuel Miranda.Review: “Encanto” charms with its focus on family dynamics, fantastic feats of wizardry and respect for Latino culture, writes our film critic.The Voice of Mirabel: Stephanie Beatriz, who won over fans with her role in “Brooklyn Nine-Nine,” discusses taking on the lead role in the film.An Enchanting Soundtrack: The film’s album of music recently climbed to the top of the Billboard 200, displacing Adele’s “30.”A Slice of His Homeland: A Times reporter watched “Encanto” with her Colombian father. Here’s what they thought.Once ignited on TikTok — where videos tagged #wedonttalkaboutbruno have been viewed 3.5 billion times — “Bruno” and other soundtrack songs, like “Surface Pressure,” began to dominate Spotify, Apple Music and other audio streaming outlets. The soundtrack ousted Adele’s “30” from No. 1 on Billboard’s album chart in early January and has since held that slot every week but one.Since its release, “Encanto” has had the equivalent of just under one million sales in the United States, according to MRC Data, the tracking service used in compiling Billboard’s charts. This week, “Encanto” tops the rapper Kodak Black’s new “Back for Everything” (No. 2) and albums by Morgan Wallen (No. 3), Gunna (No. 4) and the Weeknd (No. 5).On the singles chart, “Bruno” was replaced at No. 1 by Glass Animals’ “Heat Waves,” a song released nearly two years ago that was resuscitated as a TikTok meme and recently got a fresh boost on the radio.Even with the imprimatur of Miranda, the Tony-, Emmy- and Grammy-winning creator of “Hamilton,” “Encanto” might have seemed a long shot as a mainstream pop hit. The album is a pan-Latin fusion that draws on Colombian folk styles like vallenato and bambuco, with touches of salsa, Broadway bombast and rock en Español.In the past, Disney might have leaned on a Broadway-style ballad, with a globally recognized star singing in English, to propel one of its soundtracks. (Think Elton John’s “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from “The Lion King,” which went to No. 4 in 1994.)“Encanto” flips that playbook, showcasing Colombian stars like Carlos Vives and Sebastián Yatra. “Bruno,” a complex ensemble piece with a classic cha-cha beat, is credited to six of the film’s cast members. “Dos Oruguitas,” the first song Miranda wrote from start to finish in Spanish, is nominated for an Oscar.To record the album, producers brought in Colombian specialists to help bring authenticity to the rhythms and instrumental arrangements; most of the sessions, which took place last year, were conducted remotely.But even with its use of acoustic instruments like the cuatro and the tiple — two relatives of the guitar — the sound of “Encanto” is not as distant from the pop mainstream as it may seem. Mike Elizondo, one of the album’s producers, who has worked with Dr. Dre, Fiona Apple and the band Twenty One Pilots, pointed out the heavy bass that drives songs like “Bruno,” and the presence of synthesizers that would not be out of place on a rap hit.“When we were making the music to the soundtrack, Lin was very encouraging,” Elizondo said in an interview. “‘Let’s not try and water anything down,’” he recalled Miranda saying. “‘Let’s not feel like we have to follow any of the rules of prior soundtracks.’”Even so, “Bruno” was almost entirely absent from radio for most of its ascent. Disney did not begin promoting it to radio stations until late January, Bunt said. In recent weeks, “Bruno” has had fewer than 4,000 spins a week on radio stations. By comparison, in the week that Adele’s “Easy on Me” first reached No. 1, in October, American radio stations played it more than 18,000 times.Videos shared on social media helped contextualize the story behind “Bruno” in a way that radio play never could. TikTok clips show fans enacting the story, while a Disney clip on YouTube translates the lyrics into 21 languages, including Norwegian, Thai and Korean. The latest viral mutation in the success of “Bruno” is mash-ups with Doja Cat or Bruno Mars (get it?).In a sense, those videos capitalize on one of the advantages of any successful soundtrack, from the days of “Saturday Night Fever” to “Frozen,” Disney’s last comparable blockbuster: a story line that links the songs together and lets fans relive the film through its hits. That has become vital in the streaming age, when individual songs are increasingly disconnected from their albums.“They’re like potato chips: you can’t eat just one,” said Gary Trust, Billboard’s senior director of charts. “With ‘Encanto’ songs, you can’t just listen to one. You want to relive the whole story.” More

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    He Makes Justin Bieber and the Bee Gees Go Viral on TikTok

    Griffin Haddrill is a founder of VRTCL, an agency hired to turn hit songs into memes.Name: Griffin HaddrillAge: 24Hometown: Bozeman, Mont.Currently Lives: In a four-bedroom house in Las Vegas with walls covered in street art.Claim to Fame: Mr. Haddrill is a co-founder of VRTCL, an agency hired by major record labels to make songs go viral on TikTok through remixes, mash-ups, meme-able chorus snippets, creator partnerships and other algorithmic alchemy. “I usually start with the lyric sheet to see if there is maybe a trend we can capitalize on or maybe a creative idea around the beat,” he said. For Lil Nas X’s “Montero,” that meant devil-themed makeup tutorials and interpretive dance routines set to the track. He also works with vintage hits like the Bee Gees’ “More Than a Woman,” which thanks to his efforts, has been featured in more than 279,000 TikTok videos including sunset selfies, boba tea tutorials and cyst removals. The right music “makes influencers feel part of a cool and cultured moment, and they like showing that off to fans,” he said.Big Break: Mr. Haddrill has always had an ear for music and business. At 12, he handed his father a business plan for high-tech earbuds. At 16, he was a music manager for Gregory Lake, an underground hip-hop artist, and 100Tribn, a D.J. act, while he was completing rehab in Salt Lake City for cocaine addiction. At 20, he dropped out of San Jose State to pursue music management full-time in Las Vegas. In 2019, he and Sean Young, a former influencer on Vine, saw how social media algorithms were starting to mold the habits of young listeners, and founded VRTCL.Latest Project: VRTCL, which Mr. Haddrill said brings in $1 million in monthly revenue and employs 18 people, was acquired in July by Create Music Group, a data-driven music company in Los Angeles. Mr. Haddrill, who is staying on as chief executive, is guarded about the terms of the deal. “With earning potential, the acquisition is in the eight figures,” he said.Next Thing: Mr. Haddrill helped turn “Stay” by Kid Laroi and Justin Bieber and “Best Friend” by Saweetie and Doja Cat into TikTok earworms last year. But his dream client list skews older: Duran Duran, Billy Joel and other cassette-era acts. “One song that I always thought could really blow up again is Cher’s ‘Believe,’” he said.Unlimited Data: He recently hired Conover Wang, a former roommate and software engineer at Reddit, to develop a program to analyze TikTok song data, including views, comments and shares. “The software is really a core part of our business, although it doesn’t have a name yet,” he said. “We should probably call it something cool.” More

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    What We Forgot to Talk About in 2021

    Subscribe to Popcast!Apple Podcasts | Spotify | StitcherTaylor, Drake, Olivia, Adele, Billie, Lil Nas X, Sondheim, Kanye, Kacey: Popcast has covered them all in the past 12 months. In the second year of the coronavirus pandemic, pop music returned to something like normal, with big stars releasing albums and returning to the road (at least for now). There was quite a lot to talk about.On this week’s Popcast, a loose round table about some of the year’s musical high points that haven’t yet been discussed on the show: the global breakthrough of Maneskin, the ascendance of Jazmine Sullivan, the resilience of Kelly Clarkson, some left field TikTok high points and the musical stylings of Candiace Dillard of “The Real Housewives of Potomac.”Guests:Joe Coscarelli, The New York Times’s pop music reporterCaryn Ganz, The New York Times’s pop music editorConnect With Popcast. Become a part of the Popcast community: Join the show’s Facebook group and Discord channel. We want to hear from you! Tune in, and tell us what you think at popcast@nytimes.com. Follow our host, Jon Caramanica, on Twitter: @joncaramanica. More

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    TikTok Made Them Famous. Figuring Out What’s Next Is Tough.

    Before Charli D’Amelio became the most popular creator on TikTok — she currently has 132 million followers — she danced on the competitive contemporary-dance circuit in the Northeast, the sorts of theatrical styles you might know from “So You Think You Can Dance?” Once she began posting to TikTok in 2019, and especially after her videos began taking off and her family moved to Los Angeles to support the viral dreams of her and her older sister, Dixie (56 million followers), that sort of dance became an afterthought, a relic of an old life.The D’Amelios made a leap from the phone screen to the small screen this year with the Hulu docuseries “The D’Amelio Show,” which captures, in sometimes excruciating detail, the thrills and the wages of TikTok success. Its most curious subplot is about Charli’s side quest to return, at least temporarily, to her precapitalist self, squeezing in time to work with a coach to relearn what those old dances require of her body, and pushing herself to remaster them.For Charli, TikTok stardom is a rocket ship, and potentially a ceiling, too. The past year or so has been a kind of testing ground for what the app’s biggest creators — the D’Amelio sisters, Noah Beck (32 million followers), Chase Hudson (32 million followers), Addison Rae (86 million followers) and others — might do next, either voluntarily and enthusiastically, or simply to satisfy the insatiable maw of demand that their sheer existence occasions.It’s been a mixed bag, a chaotic blend of behind-the-scenes vulnerability, eager-to-please willingness, bro impudence and performed resistance. Navigating the chasm between the instinctual charisma that fuels the app and the long(er) form seriousness and vision that might make for a stable, sustainable career in entertainment has been playing out across reality television, pop music, film, books, other social media platforms — and even TikTok itself.What’s become clear is that the skill set that led to big-tent triumph on the app in 2019 and 2020 is, by and large, sized to the medium. Given more room to breathe in other formats, most of TikTok’s superstars are still figuring out how to create beyond the phone.Throughout many of these projects, what you sense is the offscreen number-crunchers hoping to hang potential franchises on the heads and necks of these young people, who are less fully formed creative thinkers than fan-aggregation platforms in desperate need of content.“Noah Beck Tries Things,” which appears on AwesomenessTV’s YouTube channel, is the ne plus ultra of this phenomenon — an entire series, two seasons deep, wholly devoted to figuring out what to do with this uncooked meal of a man.Beck, 20, is a deeply affable former soccer player who, of all of the current crop of TikTok crossover stars, appears most baffled about how to amplify it. “Noah Beck Tries Things” is a slapdash trifle of consequence-free content production. It simply winds Beck up, places him in unlikely scenarios — cooking a steak, dancing the tango, recording a dis track — and watches him gulp for air. In one episode, when someone shows him how to do a handstand on a hoverboard, his awe is genuine — not the practiced “gosh!” of someone used to being filmed for reactions, but more like the off-the-cuff “derp” of someone who understands he has landed somewhere near the deep end and has no idea how to swim.On his show, he’s mostly hapless, apart from the occasional athletic task. But what’s emerging as his calling card is his almost raging commitment to goodnaturedness. The only times Beck’s brow ever genuinely furrows are in scenes in the D’Amelios’ Hulu show when Dixie, his girlfriend — she refers to him as a “golden retriever,” a familiar TikTok good-boy archetype — can’t quite muster the optics of a reciprocative relationship. In those moments, he looks frazzled, as if an Apple IIc is being updated with this year’s operating system.Beck is genial and gentle — in short bursts on the app, he’s a palliative. But he never seems truly hungry. In stark contrast to that approach stands Addison Rae, or rather, revs Addison Rae. Of this generation of TikTok stars, she is the most intentional, the most iron-willed, the most determined. Off camera, she has been loosely adopted into the Kourtney Kardashian orbit. Her parents have been game TikTokers. (The D’Amelios play along, too, but much less so.) Even when Rae, 21, was focused more intently on her social media presentation — she’s now often comically late to trends on the app — she always appeared to have her eyes somewhere beyond the phone.Unsurprisingly, Rae’s star turn in “He’s All That,” the updating of the 1999 teen rom-com “She’s All That” (itself an update of “Pygmalion”/“My Fair Lady”) is the most vivid post-TikTok performance of the year. That’s because Rae understands viral stardom not just as a job, but as an archetype.Like “The D’Amelio Show,” “He’s All That” is a metacommentary about the falsity of viral fame, albeit fictionalized. Rae plays Padgett (pronounced, more or less, “pageant”), a social media influencer falsifying her bona fides. After a fall from grace, she sets about remaking a surly outcast classmate (who wears a G.G. Allin T-shirt) as her new hottie. High jinks ensue, followed by love.Beauty and popularity are inventions, and have been long before TikTok came along. “He’s All That” plays those constructions for chuckles and awws. And the end of the film savvily mimics the turn away from polished inaccessibility toward Emma Chamberlain-type relatability. Padgett returns to social media, but posting more naturalistic photos, taken by her new paramour: She found herself an Instagram boyfriend after all.“He’s All That” still valorizes and reinforces Big Algorithm, even converting the punk skeptic. But the some of the young men who thrived on the app in 2020 decided to pivot in the opposite direction: refusenik. Most notably, this has been the direction taken by two stars trying to transition into music careers — Chase Hudson, 19, who records music as Lilhuddy, and Jaden Hossler, 20, who records music as jxdn.Unlike Rae, who this year released a peppy club pop single, “Obsessed,” a perfectly textureless workout anthem, Hudson and Hossler (nine million followers) swerved hard into dissident territory, embracing pop-punk and, in places, the grittier textures that emerged from SoundCloud in the late 2010s. They’re heavily tattooed, wear haute mall-goth clothing and paint their fingernails — their pushback against TikTok’s centrism is highly aestheticized (as opposed to, say, Bryce Hall, he of the Covid-era partying, drug arrest and boxing match, whose post-TikTok direction seems inspired by Jake Paul).For creators determined to make it clear they are not bound by TikTok’s cutesy videos and algorithm, it is a purposeful choice. Hossler’s debut album, “Tell Me About Tomorrow,” traverses anxiety and addiction. He has a reedy voice, and when he’s singing self-lacerating lines like “I don’t like taking pills, but I took ’em anyway,” he still sounds like an accessible teddy bear, albeit one whose stuffing is coming undone.By contrast, Hudson comes off as if he’s spoiling for a fight on his debut album, “Teenage Heartbreak.” He’s a sneerer: “I’m not sorry that I crashed your party.” In “Downfalls High,” the surprisingly puckish long-form music video-film that accompanies Machine Gun Kelly’s latest album “Tickets to My Downfall,” Hudson plays Fenix, a ghoulish loner with punk charisma — basically, the kind of guy Padgett tries to clean up in “He’s All That.” When his girlfriend, who is popular and rich and slumming it, asks him what he wants to be when he grows up, he replies sullenly but not terribly convincingly, “Dead.” It all feels like one long elaborate Halloween performance. (Hudson is also one of several TikTokers featured in the long-simmering reality show “Hype House,” which will have its premiere on Netflix next month.)Hudson’s and Hossler’s albums kill two urges with one groan: the need for these TikTokers to find a viable path forward in music, and the music industry’s need to amplify and reinforce the still-emergent revival of pop-punk, the music of white rebellion most readily available to new arrivals with little history or experience.Given the apparent craving for safe spaces, it’s notable how, on both “The D’Amelio Show” and in “He’s All That,” nonwhite characters are deployed as foils who are far more knowing and worldly than the white protagonists. Deliberately or not, they serve as reminders that the world beyond the app is far more diverse and complex. “Noah Beck Tries Things” undertakes a version of this as well with queer collaborators, striking given that one of the most frequent critiques of Beck during his rise has been of queerbaiting. (That said, the show’s first episode, where Beck learned how to apply makeup from James Charles, appears to have disappeared from the internet.)This year TikTok stars tried their hands at Hulu shows, streaming series and music careers.Simoul AlvaIt’s tough to know how purposeful these indictments about privilege are — they generally serve the narratives of the shows while reifying their stars, who are presented as being open to personal growth.“The D’Amelio Show,” however, often comes off as quietly ruthless toward its stars, whether in its array of more-experienced secondary characters, its lingering on the excruciating challenges of growing up in public on the internet, or even in the fish-out-of-water talking head shots juxtaposing the relentlessly normal family members against their relentlessly grand Southern California mansion.Ultimately, “The D’Amelio Show” is about the toxicity of viral fame and also about child labor. (Charli is 17 now, and was 15 and 16 when the show was taping. Dixie is 20.) It is presented as a moral victory, near the end of the season, when after a period of deep decompression by Charli, it is determined that she will only work three days a week, from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m.On TikTok, though, life itself is labor. You feel that burden perhaps most acutely in how Dixie navigates the fame that has arrived at her feet in the wake of Charli’s breakthrough. Dixie is older, a little more cynical and a lot less comfortable. For her next step, she chooses music, and the show captures, with discomfiting intimacy, just how challenging that decision is, artistically and emotionally. Her voice is rough, her confidence is low and she is besieged by online naysayers. (The persistent Greek chorus of negative online comments, represented on the show in on-screen pop-up graphics, is both effective and perverse.) Her worldview is encapsulated in the opening lines of her first single, “Be Happy”: “Sometimes I don’t want to be happy/Don’t hold it against me/If I’m down just leave me there, let me be sad.”Perhaps this heartbreaking transparency will be the ultimate legacy of this era of TikTok crossover. It’s there in Charli’s book “Essentially Charli: The Ultimate Guide to Keeping It Real,” which came out in late 2020, which juxtaposes workbook-esque pages about friendship and style with confessions about anxiety and therapy. (An even more involved discussion of this fundamental viral-stardom tension is in “Backstory: My Life So Far,” the memoir of the TikTok superstar Avani Gregg, 19, a close friend of Charli’s (38 million followers). Gregg’s book is striking for its matter-of fact-conversations about self-doubt and mental health.)Charli’s anxiety is a recurrent topic on “The D’Amelio Show,” which can often feel like crisis footage: Charli having a panic attack in the car when she spies paparazzi waiting for her, or Dixie breaking down after being bullied online.But Charli’s most revealing content may well be in the form of her secondary TikTok account, @user4350486101671, which she began in April, during a trip to Las Vegas for, of all things, a Jake Paul boxing match. It has a mere 15 million followers, and Charli treats it far more casually. The videos are in general looser than those on her main account, with a broader range of emotions, from exuberance to exasperation. The dancing is a little smoother, a little less performed.Sometimes the gap between the two accounts is as vast as the one between burden and freedom, and sometimes it’s just enough for her to zestily lean into lip-syncing a curse word that might not fly on her main account. She might owe the most commodified version of herself to TikTok, but here she’s trying on different selves, and in nearly every video, her smile is broad and relaxed. She looks like someone fully at home. More

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    TikTok’s Music Critics Reflect on 2021

    Subscribe to Popcast!Apple Podcasts | Spotify | StitcherFor many, TikTok is a music discovery engine. Snippets of new songs make their way through the app, providing the soundtracks for dances or comedic sketches. Old songs get resurfaced in new contexts. It is a fount for curious and patient listeners.But there is a different and less central version of music discovery on TikTok: the videos made by the app’s informal gathering of music critics, historians and enthusiasts. Often, the music they’re recommending — which encompasses 1990s indie rock, contemporary video game music, old jazz, contemporary underground hip-hop and beyond — doesn’t overlap with what’s happening on the rest of the app. Instead, these are committed, independent voices following their own muse.On this week’s Popcast, a conversation with four of TikTok’s most singular music aficionados about their favorite albums and songs of 2021, which include releases from Charlotte Day Wilson, Japanese Breakfast, Elujay and more; what it’s like to develop individual taste in the age of the algorithm; and the unexpected joy of tracking down physical media.Guests:Margeaux Labat, @marg.mp3 on TikTokEric Morris, @cyberexboyfriend on TikTokCam Sullivan-Brown, @_itsjust_camm on TikTokHunter White, @wahwahmusic on TikTokConnect With Popcast. Become a part of the Popcast community: Join the show’s Facebook group and Discord channel. We want to hear from you! Tune in, and tell us what you think at popcast@nytimes.com. Follow our host, Jon Caramanica, on Twitter: @joncaramanica. More

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    Grammys Snubs and Surprises: Kacey Musgraves, Jon Batiste and Abba

    A jazz musician snagged the most nominations, and the Weeknd, an artist who said he’s boycotting the awards, found his name on the ballot.Doja Cat, Justin Bieber, Billie Eilish and Olivia Rodrigo — sure, of course.H.E.R., Brandi Carlile, Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga — OK, fine, that makes some sense. These are the Grammys, after all.But Jon Batiste — the most-nominated artist overall? And … Abba? Who knew.The contenders for the 64th annual Grammy Awards in January were announced on Tuesday. The New York Times music team — reporter Joe Coscarelli, chief pop music critic Jon Pareles and pop music critic Jon Caramanica — are here to break them down.JOE COSCARELLI Let’s just start with the real shocker: A jazz pianist leads the field with 11 total nominations.Yes, Batiste is a genre-crossing multihyphenate who works as the bandleader and musical director for CBS’s “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert.” He’s already won a Golden Globe and an Oscar (best original score for Pixar’s “Soul,” alongside Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross) and is liable to pop up anywhere music is played — even alongside Madonna, as she promoted her “Madame X” concert movie in Harlem.Yet seeing him not only in the R&B, jazz, classical and American roots categories but also in the general field — record and album of the year — alongside those I considered shoo-ins (Rodrigo, Eilish, Taylor Swift, Doja Cat) was the sort of surprise that only the Grammys can consistently provide.Which is to say, was this actually a twist or was this the most Grammys thing that could have possibly happened? I’m torn, because on one hand, it felt like we were moving away from this. On the other, Jacob Collier got an album of the year nod last time around.JON CARAMANICA Last year, when talking about the ubiquity of the retro rock-soul band Black Pumas, we underscored a now-familiar Grammy sleight of hand: Rather than nominate older musicians well past their prime popularity, the show instead nominates younger musicians who make music in an old-fashioned way. That can mean Black Pumas, and it can mean Billie Eilish.This year, it means Jon Batiste, who is 35, but pointedly carries on the long tradition of New Orleans music, and who in recent years has become an institutionalist, a slightly less progressive version of his bandleader competitor, Questlove of “The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon.”The Grammys are, naturally, the ultimate institution — I would not be surprised if, a decade or two from now, Batiste becomes the show’s musical director. That he is also the bandleader on the marquee late-night show on CBS, the network that also broadcasts the Grammys, isn’t evidence of a fix, but it’s a reminder that the presumed and actual audiences for the awards show and the network both skew old — and that in this echo chamber, and perhaps only in this echo chamber, Batiste qualifies as a pop star..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}JON PARELES Batiste is an impressive musician and performer — pianist, singer, dancer — and his album, “We Are,” is a trove of good intentions and good playing, including New Orleans connections with appearances by Trombone Shorty and the Hot 8 Brass Band. Like Black Pumas (also nominated this year!), Batiste’s album harks back to vintage soul and R&B, clearly a sweet spot for Grammy voters, although it also ventures toward hip-hop. The album is a serious, thoughtful statement, celebrating New Orleans roots — Batiste is a member of a longstanding musical family — and his own memories of growing up. It also has positive-thinking message songs like “Freedom” and “We Are.” But Batiste’s nightly broadcast exposure clearly has a lot to do with all his nominations; someone’s still watching network TV.You get a lot of Grammy nominations by qualifying for multiple categories — and a lot of nominations does not guarantee a lot of wins. Batiste is in R&B, jazz, American roots, soundtrack (for “Soul”), music video and even contemporary classical for one of the album tracks, “Movement 11” — which is a stretch, since it shares far more similarity to a two-minute jazz improvisation with added strings than it does to its fellow nominees, like the Dutch composer Louis Andriessen’s knotty orchestral song cycle, “The Only One.”COSCARELLI Rounding out album of the year, in addition to Batiste’s “We Are,” you have “Love for Sale” by Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga, “Justice (Triple Chucks Deluxe)” by Justin Bieber, “Planet Her (Deluxe)” by Doja Cat, “Back of My Mind” by H.E.R., “Happier Than Ever” by Billie Eilish, “Montero” by Lil Nas X, “Sour” by Olivia Rodrigo, “Evermore” by Taylor Swift and “Donda” by Kanye West.Many of those artists are also represented in song and record of the year, where you also get a mix of Brandi Carlile, Ed Sheeran, Silk Sonic and Abba’s “I Still Have Faith in You,” which is apparently a record that moved people? That means no Halsey, Ariana Grande, BTS, Megan Thee Stallion, Chris Stapleton or Tyler, the Creator in the major categories, which plenty will see as galling.The 2019 best album winner, Kacey Musgraves, was also eligible again, for her latest LP, “Star-Crossed,” which wasn’t nominated as a body of work. Instead, she landed only two nods overall: best country song and best country solo performance for “Camera Roll,” despite the album being reportedly removed from the country categories by the Recording Academy’s genre police.PARELES One thing that struck me, as a writer for a sometime print publication, was the sheer typographical burden of this year’s Grammy nominations. The list simply has not looked like this before. The album of the year category goes on for three full pages to name all the songwriters, producers and engineers credited on albums by Batiste, Bieber, Doja Cat, H.E.R., Lil Nas X, Swift and West.It’s a reflection of how albums are made now. It’s not a band and a producer sequestered in the studio. It’s about beat-shopping, samples, songwriting camps, remote collaborations, multiple tweaks and iterations — and all the participants want those credits and publishing points. The nominees alone are going to be a sizable voting bloc for each album, especially in a category split 10 ways.COSCARELLI But then there’s Gaga and Bennett, Eilish and Rodrigo, whose credits are minuscule by comparison. That could potentially give them an edge with more conservative voters who remain concerned with the bespoke quality of the music.Along with expanding the Big Four categories to 10 nominees each — and lowering the bar for how much any one collaborator has to contribute to be among those recognized in the best album field (hello, Zadie Smith!) — this year also marked the end of the so-called Nominations Review Committees. (These were the source of the Weeknd’s frustration last year, after he was snubbed and eventually decided to boycott.)Rather than some shadowy cabal taking the members’ top vote-getters, considering them and then making their own final decision on the nominees anyway, the Recording Academy says these picks are pure: Whoever got the most votes from their music industry peers is who is appearing on the final ballot.Do you see that reflected here? My sense is that it benefits those with wide name recognition and enduring industry connections and respect — Bieber, Abba, maybe even Carlile, who has a record of the year nomination and two for song, including an Alicia Keys duet. At the same time, you could imagine the secret committees keeping out something like Lady Gaga and Bennett’s “Love for Sale,” because it’s so stereotypically Old and Stuffy Grammys — the kind of thing it felt like they were distancing themselves from in recent history.CARAMANICA I will not lie: my heart palpitated a little erratically (and worryingly) when I read the first name in the first category, record of the year: Abba. Now look, I exult at weddings just like the next sap, and I honor anyone whose albums were in my parents’ vinyl collection. But this new Abba music is thin, thin, thin. It exists primarily as an advertisement for the old Abba music, and the group’s avatar-led stage show that’s debuting next year.PARELES That’s obviously one of the Grammys’ better-late-than-never nominations. Abba never got a Grammy in its prime; this nomination is the apology.Meanwhile, count me surprised that Arooj Aftab turns up in the best new artist category. She is a Pakistani musician who studied at the Berklee School of Music and is based in Brooklyn, mingling South Asian music, jazz and chamber music; some of the songs on her (third) album, “Vulture Prince,” presumably the one that caught the Grammys’ attention, have lyrics by the 13th-century Persian mystical poet Rumi. It’s a lovely album, but I hardly expected to see her name alongside Rodrigo and Saweetie. Persian aside, there’s also still a language barrier for Grammy voters in this category; where are streaming blockbusters like Rauw Alejandro, whose debut album came out last November?COSCARELLI Best new artist is confusing, especially with the removal of the nomination committees taken into account. Enough people knew Aftab, Baby Keem and Japanese Breakfast to put them ahead of, say, Polo G, Tems, Jack Harlow and Maneskin (shudder)?I do miss the secret committees when it comes to rock. Last year, they seemed to make a point to shake up typically staid categories like best rock song, album and performance, the latter of which was all women for the first time, including Fiona Apple, Phoebe Bridgers and Haim. This year it’s back to basics: AC/DC, Black Pumas (for a live release), Chris Cornell, Deftones and Foo Fighters. Kings of Leon, Weezer and Paul McCartney also turn up in the rock field.That can’t help but feel like regression, even if it’s what the voters wanted.Kanye West’s “Donda” is up for album of the year.Randall Hill/ReutersCARAMANICA Joe, you see that shift also in the best rap album nominations. Last year, they consisted of purist-oriented artisanal albums at the intersection of process and aesthetic that the Grammys has long valorized in other genres. This year, the nominees are … reasonably popular and generally respected rap albums.That includes “Donda,” which is also nominated for album of the year. West received five total nominations this year, representing something of a coming in from the cold for someone who, in Grammy terms, now qualifies as a legacy artist. He has been nominated over 70 times in his career, but apart from last year’s win for best contemporary Christian music album, hasn’t taken home a trophy since 2013. He also hasn’t been nominated for album of the year for an album of his own since his 2007 album “Graduation.” (He has been nominated as a producer on others’ albums.)The nominations of “Donda” and “Hurricane” (best melodic rap performance) also means nominations for the Weeknd, even after his boycott. (He is also nominated for his contributions to Doja Cat’s album.)COSCARELLI The inclusion of “Donda” in album of the year can’t help but highlight the lack of Drake’s “Certified Lover Boy,” which earned a rap album and a rap performance nod (for “Way 2 Sexy”) but nothing in the top categories. Both are among the year’s biggest albums commercially.Also on that best-seller list? Morgan Wallen, who has outperformed both rappers but came away with absolutely no nominations amid his soft industry banishment for drunkenly shouting a racial slur in a video captured by a neighbor. Does that count as a snub, or just a cultural land mine avoided?CARAMANICA It’s also worth mentioning Taylor Swift here — a lonely nomination for album of the year, for “Evermore,” perhaps the least commercially impactful album of her career, and also another nomination in the same category by dint of her writing “contributions” to Olivia Rodrigo’s “Sour.”PARELES In a way, Swift’s album nomination is the appropriate one: “Evermore” is an old-fashioned full-length album, made to be heard as a whole. Also on the absentee list: Lana Del Rey and Lorde, even though their (and Swift’s) producer Jack Antonoff is nominated as producer of the year, in part for his work with them.COSCARELLI I see neither of you want to touch the subject of Wallen right now — just like the Grammys.CARAMANICA On the other hand, there are a handful of TikTok hits that have now led to Grammy nominations: Giveon’s slow and aching “Heartbreak Anniversary” is nominated for best R&B song, and the British rock band Glass Animals had a huge TikTok hit this year with “Heat Waves,” and now the band, which has been releasing music for several years, is nominated for best new artist. Walker Hayes’s goofy country stomper “Fancy Like” started its ascent on TikTok and now is nominated in best country song.PARELES Well, at least they’re trying. You have to sympathize, a little, with how difficult it is for the Grammys to try to sum up all of music when there are so many niche audiences that barely intersect. But we’re lucky that hardly anyone who cares about music takes the Grammys as the ultimate judgment. More

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    Popcast Mailbag! Halsey, Nicki, TikTok and, of Course, Taylor

    Subscribe to Popcast!Apple Podcasts | Spotify | StitcherYou ask, we answer. Or prevaricate. It depends!On this week’s Popcast, part of our semiregular mailbag series, the team takes questions on a range of topics:the year in Taylor Swiftthe quality of Halsey’s new musicthe state of the music videothe ways TikTok can be a lifeline for a legacy actthe direction Drake’s career should head inthe increasingly idiosyncratic vocal styles of young female pop starswhether we still buy physical mediaAnd much more.Guests:Joe Coscarelli, The New York Times’s pop music reporterCaryn Ganz, The New York Times’s pop music editorConnect With Popcast. Become a part of the Popcast community: Join the show’s Facebook group and Discord channel. We want to hear from you! Tune in, and tell us what you think at popcast@nytimes.com. Follow our host, Jon Caramanica, on Twitter: @joncaramanica. More