artist

In 2011, Joe Kay debuted Soulection as a college radio show at Cal State Long Beach, spinning rare B-sides, progressive beats, inventive flips of classic records and soulful underground tracks.

Fifteen years later, the niche local broadcast on K-Beach Radio has ballooned into a cultural movement that extends far behind his alma mater’s campus. Beyond its flagship on Apple Music with nearly 750 episodes (Grammy-winning producer Swizz Beatz was a recent guest DJ), Soulection is also an independent record label, live event and clothing brand. Operating under the banner “the Sound of Tomorrow,” the collective championed artists like Kaytranada, Brent Faiyaz, Bryson Tiller and Snoh Aalegra before they were household names.

Still, Kay remains hungry for more. “There’s so much more to do,” says Kay, who released his first project “If Not Now, Then When?” last year.

“We’re at this breaking point of not just being underground,” he adds. “It’s like we’ve been D-1. We’ve been to the playoffs. Now we’re like how do we get to the championship and not just show up to the championship, how do we win?”

On Saturday, Kay and his tight-knit crew are celebrating Soulection’s 15th anniversary with a festival at Reframe Studios Outdoors in Atwater Village. The lineup includes DJ sets from Kay, Grammy-winning producer and artist Kaytranada, Sango, Esta, DJ Miss Milan (who DJs for Doechii), Ayanna Heaven and surprise guests. (Kay doesn’t even know who all will show up.)

Ahead of the hallmark event, Kay spoke about how he continues to find emerging talent when everyone’s an artist or DJ these days, building long-term staying power, his new dance music concept and why he’s nowhere near done pushing the limits of what Soulection can do.

Joe Kay and his team are celebrating 15 years of Soulection on Saturday at Reframe Studios Outdoors in Atwater Village.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

This weekend, you are celebrating the 15th anniversary of Soulection with several guests, including Kaytranda, who has been connected to the brand for years but has yet to be on an official Soulection lineup until now. What does this homecoming mean for you?

It’s special. Just having Kaytranada, it’s been long overdue but right on time, and to me that’s all that matters. About four years ago, we did a private party in L.A. in between Coachella, and it was him, Peggy Gou and myself, and it was a really cool party. So we played together, but in terms of a public, front-facing event, this is the first time he’s been on one of our lineups. What I appreciate about him is his work ethic. That man just doesn’t love to DJ, but this man works so hard. I work really hard, and then I see him and it makes me just want to go harder. This man is constantly on tour and he just finds a way to keep putting out music that people care about so much. I think that alignment between him, Esta and Sango is special. Even having Miss Milan, it’s one thing to be a DJ for someone like Doechii, but to also see what she does independently, I really admire that. There’s not a lot of women in the space who are moving like that and are recognized. She’s a boss on stage. Then, Ayanna Heaven is from New York, but she’s Jamaican and we’re lucky to have her.

What else can we expect at the show?

We’ll have a sunset set of Soulection and Friends, so special guests will pop out to do a couple songs. We’re not even sure who’s going to be popping out completely, but we have a handful of names and there’s some good people who I feel like have been part of the Soulection sound and Soulection radio. In London, people were like :We wanted a party. There were a lot of performances.” So now we’re giving people the party and we’re trying to move, but there will be a portion where everyone does a couple of songs. I love how we listen to feedback from one event and we make adjustments. I think that’s part of why we’re still around.

Soulection was pivotal in giving early platforms to artists like Brent Faiyaz, Bryson Tiller and Anderson .Paak before they became global superstars. What is your internal filter for spotting rising talent and has this changed over the years?

It’s a loaded question because talent and gifted people are everywhere. I find those people everyday. But in terms of who has the “it factor,” that one takes more layers. It’s not about “Does this person have to have that ‘factor’ for me to give them an opportunity or to be excited about them?” It’s more so an internal feeling. Nowadays, content is important so it’s the music and it’s mainly how they message themselves. How are they communicating their work, their vision and is it resonating with me? Then I scan their socials. I have no problem following anyone. I’m not one of those guys like “I have to have my following ratio at a certain amount and I’m too cool to follow you.” If I’m interested, I’m interested. I think today it takes a lot more to stand out. It’s a saturated [market], but I feel if you can break off and stand out now, it says a lot more than ever because everyone’s an artist and a DJ. Whereas 10 to 30-plus years ago, it was so much more of a rarity. It was a lot harder to be an artist so now that’s what makes it a bit more complicated.

It’s been over a year since you released your debut project “If Not Now, Then When?” You’ve talked about overcoming impostor syndrome to make it. What did you learn about yourself throughout the process?

It went by really quick. I’m really glad we dropped that project. It taught me a lot. When people ask, “So what do you do? Or can I find you on Apple or Spotify?” It’s nice to have something to direct people to outside of the radio show, there’s a body of work. I get emails every week of how many people are still discovering the music even though it might be old to us. Working on this project taught me a lot about accountability. I realized putting out a project as a label head and allowing artists to share their vision versus how I would do things are two different worlds even under Soulection. I’m so used to being on the executive or A&R side and letting people cook like “We’re here to help market it, but this is your work.” I honestly was proud of it because in my opinion “This is how I think you should do a rollout” and it was nice to show proof of concept. Also, working with all these great artists. I’m still in awe when I think about D-Mile being on two records. Bruno Mars is on tour right now, selling out SoFi Stadium. He’s doing like 8-10 times what we’re doing and D-Mile is a big part of his sound. To know we had him be a part of my project was a blessing and says a lot about the work that has been done.

Last year, you talked about potentially releasing an album this year. Are you still planning to do that?

It truly is extremely difficult to get a project done when you’re on tour and that’s why it didn’t get done. I did about 30 cities and when you’re going city to city, country to country, there’s really no time. When you’re putting together these projects, I feel like you have to literally be stationary for weeks at a time when you wake up and that’s all you think about. It’s very difficult when you’re stopping and going and nowadays. There’s a lot of chasing with the artists. Even if they are down, artists have their own projects, their own rollouts, their own tours. We’ve also been working on this 15-year celebration for the last year and a half, so I would say the album is the next focus.

You’ve been cooking up a new concept called Tempo. Can you tell us about that?

I’m very passionate about Tempo. If I could launch it today, I would. I’ve been using that word so much because I keep trying to tell people we’re trying to make people dance. If the women move and are having a good time, everyone’s moving. That’s why we love dancehall, Afrobeats, amapiano and now as we’ve seen in the last years, Afro House, and these other genres. It’s essentially dance music. I’m also very close to South Africa, specifically Cape Town and Johannesburg. That’s a place I’ve been going since 2015 and I’ve built a really good connection with people out there. As these new subgenres started to come out in like 2018, I’ve been very passionate and researching that music. A couple years ago, I was there and I curated these shows with some really great local artists and producers. I’m just very passionate about trying to push those artists to a higher scale. Imagine Brent [Faiyaz], Leon [Thomas], SiR or Snoh Aalegra or Kwn, hearing their vocals on an Afro House record or just the right tune that has that tempo. Now all of a sudden, you have Shimza, Keinemusik or Francis Mercier playing the records in front of 30,000 to 50,000 people. I feel like we have those relationships with the artists. They need to be told like, “This is who you need to work with. Trust me.” Then bringing them together and not feeling like we have to make it pop or saturate the music or make the drums lighter and more radio-friendly. I think we do it in an organic Soulection style. To me, that’s really the goal of Tempo. It’s not just an event, but it’s also like a sub label of Soulection that focuses on electronic music, a lot of Afro electronic music but not just that — just house music in general. There’s no boxes or boundaries to it. If it moves you, we’re going to put it out.

Joe Kay will be DJing alongside Kaytranda, Sango, Esta, DJ Miss Milan and Ayanna Heaven at the Soulection anniversary show on Saturday.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Looking back on the last 15 years, what are you most proud of what you’ve built with Soulection?

There’s a couple things. One, it’s nice to have my team who have been with us for over a decade. It’s a testament to what we’ve built, that people still want to be here. It makes me feel good that I have a loyal group of people who are my friends, who I’m grateful to call my family and who go up to bat for me and the team everyday. It’s not easy. Now that we’re older, I feel like, we choose to be here. Secondly, to think about all the artists and collectives that have been motivated by Soulection and have gone on to create their own businesses or have gone on to sign to agencies or get a manager. To know they were listening to Soulection at one point, that’s all it was meant to be — to inspire. It’s not about being on Soulection, it’s more of how do you take this motivation and create your own. It’s nice to be a part of that, but also they did the work.

That’s cool because it makes me think of how you were heavily inspired by labels like Stones Throw. You wanted to intern for them, but ended up creating your own thing and now Soulection is a blueprint for others.

I’m still inspired by Stones Throw. They literally just hit 30 years, so they’re literally two times what we’re doing. That had me thinking like, “Damn, what are we at year 30?” To see them still doing it, it’s very admirable. To be [a blueprint] is still great, but I don’t feel complacent. We just feel like there’s so much more to do. You asked, “How do I stay excited to show up to work everyday amongst all the craziness” and I think it’s my curiosity. I’m just grateful to provide for my family and for so many others for just doing something that I love everyday. Being about music, arts and highlighting people, that’s a blessing. I think we can take that for granted, but I don’t and I really do wake up everyday like, “How are we going to change someone’s life?” That’s the best part about it.

Oct. 3, 2026 3:04 AM PT

Like any other building from 1971, or a democracy created in 1776, the Kennedy Center could use some attention and possibly some structural repair. But I was a vice president at that arts center in Washington, and I can tell you that maintenance is almost certainly not why it closed its doors last month.

Officially, it’s closed because a section of the Grand Foyer ceiling gave way in a storm, plaster crashing to the floor, and the building needed to be shut down for safety. The Justice Department itself has argued in court filings that there is no real emergency requiring the closure. The board, meanwhile, has approved a quarter-billion-dollar renovation plan, put together without competitive bidding, while the president muses openly about tearing the building down altogether if his own name isn’t affixed to it. This administration is effectively bulldozing arts infrastructure in an attempt to abolish an infrastructure of the imagination.

I watch all of this from the outside now. When the new “leadership” took over last year, my team and I were among the first let go. My department worked on free public programming, on creative equity, on cross-sector community development and on measuring the social impact of art. That we were among the first out the door probably tells you everything you need to know about who was put in charge of the place.

As an American, as an artist and as a former member of its labor force, I understand that the Kennedy Center is more than a building. It is a living memorial to a president who was taken from us too soon, a man who had the audacity to aim for the moon before the science existed to get us there. To honor that kind of visionary, this country built a center for the creative impossible, and gave it his name.

And true to that name, my job at the Kennedy Center was to investigate the correlation between the arts economy and the economy of civic aspiration. As a team, we believed that inspiration erodes apathy and yields empathy. The building is a container of federal infrastructure, but the arts that imbue the Kennedy Center make the argument that inspiration itself is part of the infrastructure of our democracy. An arts center is built to ask: “What are the conditions necessary to dream together in public?”

Who, if not artists, are the authors of the public imagination? When a baby is born, or your daughter gets married, do you read a piece of legislation to commemorate the occasion or do you quote a poem, or dedicate a song? Who, if not artists, might light the path to a post-fear economy?

So why invade an arts center? What could possibly be gained by shuttering a national citadel for creative excellence? How perverse that a president whose policies have underfunded education and the arts would gut a national sanctuary for curiosity, and then demand that his name be emblazoned on the shell of what was. This president has used executive orders to intimidate artists, banned writers and journalists, sabotaged arts education, created oppressive red lines within the National Endowment for the Arts and threatened philanthropic organizations that fund arts and culture, and then he turns around and wants his name on our national cultural center.

When I worked there, the Kennedy Center wasn’t perfect. No institution is. But the business was viable, the staff was talented and reliable, and the work we made together would, often enough, touch something close to the sublime. Our job, like those of so many arts workers across the country, was to activate creative magic in service of social cohesion and well-being.

This is what gets lost in the noise of storms and lawsuits and renovation budgets: Entertainment is everywhere, but inspiration is rare. Sometimes you are sitting in a dark theater with strangers and the right note gets struck, and you hear it with your ears but you feel it somewhere else entirely. In the gut and heart. And the person next to you, a stranger, feels it too, at the exact same moment. You can practically feel the room change. All that magic can happen in one theater, and the Kennedy Center has nine of them. If a solar panel uses the energy of the sun to power a building, an intentionally run theater can use the energy of its inspired audiences to power a city.

Art holds memory. It also holds the horizon, the sense of what a country could still become. Patriotism as enacted by the creative community takes the American experiment seriously enough to question, examine, remember what we’ve forgotten and catalyze collective American dreaming. That is what the Kennedy Center was named for: a president who dreamed of a country unafraid of beauty, unafraid of grace.

Thankfully, America’s creative labor force tirelessly stewards that sense of creative provocation and patriotic inquiry. It is alive everywhere, including in the work of individual artists such as Carrie Mae Weems or in the work of collectives such as For Freedoms and their “America, the Beautiful” initiative.

We, the chronically underwhelmed citizenry of the United States, can’t afford one less pillar of creativity. We should be fighting to reconstitute any and all artistic institutions with an eye toward an inspired future.

Marc Bamuthi Joseph, a spoken-word artist and actor, was vice president for social impact at the Kennedy Center.

Earlier this summer, Akriila flew to Los Angeles and played two nights at the Roxy in West Hollywood. At 22, the Chilean singer-songwriter, most identifiable by her fire engine red tresses, is one of the most visionary newcomers in the latest wave of post-urbano Latin artists.

Fittingly, Akriila kick-started her career with a trap mixtape. The most-streamed tracks on her debut, 2024’s dazzling “Epistolares,” favor a progressive reggaeton vein. She also collaborated with Milo J on “Llora Llora” — a folksy lullaby off the Argentine rapper’s masterpiece “La Vida Era Más Corta.”

“Hot gays listen to Akriila” became a celebrated slogan on social media.

Turns out she was just getting started. Released Sept. 3, her latest album, “Lucy Miró al Mundo y Notó Que Está Girando” — its title a delicious riff on Beatles lore — eschews reggaeton altogether, in favor of a hallucinogenic collage of shoegaze, electronic glitch pop and South American roots sounds.

A guidepost of Chilean hyper-pop, it is also a heart-wrenching mash of tenderness and distortion. The lyrics describe the trauma of a recent transition, after she left her father’s home and ventured to live on her own — and though she’s now an established artist signed to Atlantic Records, her music is still aching and vulnerable.

“She is a reference point for all of us in contemporary music,” says producer Diego Raposo, a Dominican tastemaker who featured Akriila on his 2023 debut album. “I believe we’re witnessing something that we’ll probably never see again. Her music reminds me of Björk, Aphex Twin, even Shakira — but it’s also incredibly fresh and original.”

A few days before traveling to London for her inaugural European tour, Akriila spoke to De Los about the seduction of second verses, her obsession with ’90s dream pop and the growing pains of living alone.

This is such a dreamlike record. Was that intentional?
I wanted it to feel not necessarily ethereal, but hazy, like you’re inside a bubble. I love the way my voice is processed, sharing the space with so many layers. It’s really cool when the vocals are part of a track instead of lying there in the center of the mix.

I was your age in the ’90s, and this album has a very strange emotional effect on me: It reminds me of what it felt like to be in my 20s, listening to dream pop for the first time.
That makes perfect sense, and it connects with a favorite exercise of mine: Every week — ideally, every day — I listen to a full album from beginning to end. I started with new releases, but then set my sights on the classics.

The Sundays’ [1990 masterpiece] “Reading, Writing and Arithmetic” was the album that opened up the space mentally for what I wanted to do. I always say that I make alternative pop. I start with something that’s catchy and easily digestible, and then mix it with sounds that feel uncomfortable. As I was starting to work on this album, I listened to the Sundays, the Cardigans, and every single record that Prince ever made.

I can definitely feel the ’90s vibe in the closing track, “Lucy.” It’s gorgeous.
That’s inspired by the Sundays’ “Gone,” and the drums sound like Cocteau Twins. I love the art of collage — stealing from different artists, but doing it my way. There are samples of PJ Harvey, Patti Smith, but also Rosalía. When I make videos, I’m always thinking of something that MTV would have played back in the day.

I keep thinking of this record as a concept album, even though the actual concept is more of a feeling than anything else.
I totally get you. It’s not an album like the Who’s “Tommy” — an actual musical that takes the conceptual deal to another level. I feel we’ve forgotten the art of making albums now that we’re so focused on playlists and TikTok. I invest a lot of effort in making my albums conceptual, since I’m not into records that are random collections of tracks. “Epistolares” was all about sending letters and dedications. The deluxe version was more sentimental. This one is a concept album for sure. I could outline in detail why every moment of the record happens when it does.

The bridge on “Abrázame” is incredibly romantic.
That bit really freaked me out in a good way. It was shorter at first, but then I asked [producer] Vinco to make it longer. Those guitars on the bridge are the most beautiful thing he’s ever done. The contradiction of “Abrázame” is that everyone kept telling me that it should continue going up and explode at the end, but I had already overused that device on “Epistolares.” So I did the opposite and gave it a happy ending. That ethereal, ambient thing at the end kills me.

Talking about songwriting devices, here’s a trademark Akriila move: A song may be moving forward, and suddenly there’s a fracture — everything breaks and decomposes. Why?
I think I have ADHD and need things to be constantly changing. I’ve tried to make songs that are plain, but I just can’t do it. My favorite part of songwriting is working on the second verse. You’ve already presented the main idea and shown what the chorus is like. On the second verse you can change the beat or the lyrics, and do anything you like. [Producer] Clemente is just like me in that respect. Sometimes we take things to the limit, and then step back. It’s one of the great things about my creative team: We’re not married to the demos. We may do five versions of the same tune until it sounds right.

Your Chilean roots shine through on “Partedemipartedeti.” I listened to those folk bits and thought: Here’s someone who grew up listening to Los Jaivas and Inti-Illimani.
When I first started obsessing about music, the stuff that I liked was all in Spanish. I listened to tons of records from Chile, Argentina and Mexico. “Carta a Mi Papá” is like a traditional balada from Chile. I stole those chords from “Quizás, Porque” by [Argentine supergroup] Sui Generis. I listened to a lot of Pescado Rabioso when I was a teen. My partner has a cassette deck in her car, and she’s always playing [Charly García’s] “Piano Bar.” I don’t identify only with Chilean music. It’s more of a música latinoamericana thing. I don’t think gringos are that good in the lyric writing department. Artists like Bandalos Chinos, Alex Anwandter and Zoé are really great composers.

Do you think you’re an old soul?
People always tell me that [smiles]. We’re a team of three; I think Clemente is a really young soul. Vinco and I are the old ones.

Before making this record, you stopped living with your dad, moved to a place of your own, and experienced a time of profound loneliness. What does your father think of the finished album?
He loves it. He is a musician himself, and it must have been hard for him when we started living apart. It was also difficult for me to get home and feel so lonely because there was no one waiting for me anymore. My dad still comes to my place once a week; he doesn’t want to bother me, so he leaves food in the reception area. It’s his way of making sure that I’m doing fine.

AUSTRALIAN rock legend Gary ‘Angry’ Anderson has died at 79.

The rocker was known for as the frontman of the band Rose Tattoo.

His bandmates and family released an emotional tribute to the star.

An emotional statement described the musician as a “devoted father, and much-loved bandmate”.

More to follow… For the latest news on this story keep checking back at The Sun Online

Thesun.co.uk is your go-to destination for the best celebrity news, real-life stories, jaw-dropping pictures and must-see video.

Like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/thesun and follow us on TikTok @TheSun.

What happened to the future we were promised? The vision that grew out of the 1990s techno-utopianism, when the internet was still a place of freedom and experimentation. Where are the infinite possibilities the early years of the millennium afforded, when social media meant AOL Instant Messenger and GeoCities, when our cellphones were not yet smart, and when personal tech evoked whimsy and excitement rather than anxiety and dread?

On a recent night in L.A., that digital optimism still existed. Here, at a clothing store on La Brea Avenue in the Fairfax District, something that felt lost was rediscovered. People were huddling around to play 1999’s “Crazy Taxi” on a Sega Dreamcast, or 2005’s “Tekken 5” on a PlayStation 2. They were surfing a perfectly re-created Y2K-era internet, and navigating an early version of Apple’s Photo Booth to snap selfies with a first-generation iSight webcam.

Paizley Lee created Dead Internet Theory to bring guests back to an era when tech evoked excitement rather than dread.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Yes, almost everyone was staring at screens, but almost no one was looking at their phone. Instead, the room felt alive and buzzing with energy. Technology was creating human connection rather than isolation.

Welcome to Dead Internet Theory, an event hosted by game designer Paizley Lee that’s both a celebration of vintage tech and a place to build community. The name is a tongue-in-cheek reference to the theory that the internet today is mostly bots, AI slop and corporate algorithms, while the human element is quickly disappearing from the web.

Lee started the event earlier this year after seeing how her friends reveled in hacking old hardware but had nowhere to show off their reimagined contraptions. She said Dead Internet Theory is a space to highlight “artists who don’t see the light of day,” a cyberpunk show-and-tell of sorts. “There’s a world of knowledge that comes from that person that can share and collaborate with another artist, and that’s really the future that we were promised, right then and there,” Lee said. “It’s the ‘Hey, look at what I made, look at what I’m interested in, and let’s share that.’ ”

Benjamin Palmer shows his project called Pan and Scan.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

One of those artists sharing his work was Dan Ruth. Atop a low credenza, he displayed a black, leather suitcase that housed inside of it an old laptop attached to an external zip drive. On the laptop’s screen was a menu of various banned books — the Unabomber’s manifesto and “The Anarchist Cookbook” among them. Ruth had recently bought the trademark rights to the digital storage systems iOmega, Zip and Jaz. “They were what we all used in the ‘90s to transfer larger files,” he explained of the era before online storage and transfer infrastructure like Google Drive.

With his setup at the event, participants could choose whatever banned book they wanted and write it to a physical Zip disk (about the size of a saltine cracker) to keep forever. If Ruth’s installation is a bit provocative, his message is less controversial. At a time when servers are being shut down, physical media is being digitized out of existence, and the subscription model is supplanting personal ownership, Ruth believes this is a way to have data autonomy.

Guests play retro video games.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Lee’s own contribution to the evening is the full rainbow of Apple’s iMac G3 computers — those bubbly, teardrop-shaped desktops that debuted in 1998 to the famous “iCandy” ads displaying their colorful shells, and TV commercials scored to the Rolling Stones’ “She’s Like a Rainbow.” Over several months and multiple trips, Lee drove across the country collecting the G3s in their core five colors. And it wasn’t easy. She recalled sleeping in her car in the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel for a few nights because she had spent all her money on acquiring the computers.

It was the people Lee met in the months of gathering the G3s, however, that made it worth it: a single dad who collected vintage iMacs to bond with his son, an elementary school teacher who held onto the old computers because the school was going to destroy them.

“I met these really witchy, cool, queer programmers from MIT in Medford, Massachusetts, who invited me back for MIT Swap Fest, where I found Indigo,” said Lee, referring to another G3 color not part of the core five. “I met a guy who used to work in broadcast, and his wife just died of cancer. His mom moved in, and she has been trying to support him in getting rid of old things and not holding on to them too much.” Human moments made possible almost by the accident of holding onto a computer longer than most.

Lee’s pursuit of old tech hardware has always been, at its root, a means to meeting new people, hearing their stories and creating a relationship with them. “I care about people a lot,” she said. “I think every single person that touches any of my projects knows that I really care about people feeling good.”

Paizley Lee spent months collecting the full rainbow of iMac G3s.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

With a mouse, Jaimie Wan clicks into the past.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

When Lee finally acquired all five original colors (blueberry, strawberry, lime, tangerine and grape), plus all the additional colors (ruby, indigo, snow, graphite, sage and three limited edition colors), she began booting up the G3s computers to make sure they still worked. In the process, she discovered the forgotten digital detritus left on their hard drives: old resumes, photo albums, Word documents.

“It’s somebody’s life,” she said. “It feels weird to do anything with it, but it also feels weird to alter it.” In the end, she kept the old files and built a replica of the early ‘00s internet to live beside them on the computers. At Dead Internet Theory events, participants are given free reign to the G3s and slowly find clues Lee has left on their desktops that lead into a mystery game she created.

Back at the event, people flocked to the bank of iMac G3 computers. They clicked around, laughing, their eyes lighted up. “It’s really a trip seeing the old MacBooks,” said Shannon Stack after navigating one of the relics. “I remember having those in my elementary school classroom. Now, these are archival pieces. It’s freaky!”

Lee herself hovered around the computer bank, watching people interact with them and discovering the random documents left behind or playing one of Apple’s preset games. She asked a couple who had been tinkering around for over half-an-hour if they wanted a hint to her mystery. “No!” they respond excitedly.

While Dead Internet Theory has only been held in Los Angeles, Lee’s dream is to take it on the road. “I’ve got kids in Seattle, in Nashville, in Dallas that are emailing me and going, please bring it here,” she explained. The only thing stopping her was money, but that changed recently. A few weeks after the event on La Brea, she was approached by a sponsor. Now she’s making a tour happen, first with a pop-up event in New York City on Wednesday.

The event has become a place to gather and build community.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Recently, as Lee began driving across the country to set up, she stopped at a bed and breakfast near Red Lodge, Mont. When she learned the innkeeper had an old blueberry iMac G3 in her basement, she asked to take a look.

“I spent an hour getting her back on,” Lee said of rebooting the machine to give the innkeeper access. “And the face she made when it came back to life — literally priceless.”

The woman browsed through old photos of her daughters, their old school projects and other files forgotten over time. Afterward, the innkeeper gave Lee the computer, telling her it deserves a second life.

Two years ago, the biggest record labels took artificial intelligence music generators to court for copyright infringement. Now several of them are licensing their catalogs to those same companies, and the deals are starting to turn into products.

The latest example came earlier this month, when Suno, an AI music company valued at $5.4 billion, released its first models built with licensed music from Warner Music Group, BMG and Believe. Rival Udio has licensing deals with Universal Music Group and Warner.

The companies are pitching AI as a new revenue stream for artists. But so far, none of them have disclosed what artists will be paid, how many artists have opted in, or how much input individual musicians have over whether their work is used. And some musicians and songwriters are fearful of how these AI deals might affect livelihoods.

“It’s sort of a creepy and ominous cloud,” said Matt Evans, a 35-year-old Pasadena resident who’s played brass instruments on shows like “The Late Late Show With James Corden” and Netflix’s “Dr. Seuss’s Red Fish, Blue Fish.” “The fact that I could do something once and then it could be reused, and if that’s not negotiated in a contract, then I never got to make a choice to receive additional compensation. It all comes down to the loss of money.”

The American Federation of Musicians sued Universal and Warner in June, alleging the labels licensed recordings its members played on to Suno and Udio without paying those musicians or telling the union which recordings were involved. The labels have moved to dismiss the case.

In 2024, Universal, Sony Music Entertainment and Warner sued Suno and Udio for copyright infringement, alleging the AI companies trained their models on copyrighted songs spanning many artists, genres and time periods. The settlements began the following year. Universal settled with Udio in October and became its partner, and Warner settled with both Udio and Suno in November, signing licensing deals with each.

“The reason why they would settle this is they think they’re going to profit more from licensing music to them rather than from the outcome of a lawsuit,” said Jane Davidson, an entertainment attorney at Nolan Heimann who specializes in copyright and trademark infringement.

More deals followed. Udio signed with Merlin, which licenses music on behalf of independent labels, and with independent publisher Kobalt. Suno signed with BMG in August and with Believe, owner of the DIY distribution platform TuneCore, this month. Spotify, which wasn’t part of the lawsuits, struck deals with Universal and Merlin.

Not everyone is settling. Sony filed a second lawsuit against Udio over more than 30,000 recordings, and it is still suing Suno alongside Universal, which is licensing its music to Udio and Spotify at the same time. Sony and Universal also filed a new lawsuit last week alleging that Suno’s latest model still infringes on their copyrighted works. In July, a Munich court ruled against Suno in a case brought by GEMA, which collects royalties for German songwriters and publishers.

The deals between labels and AI music platforms — on which consumers can create full songs from text prompts — share a basic promise. Artists signed to the participating labels can opt in and will be credited and paid.

But each company is building something different. Udio operates under a “walled garden” model favored by Universal, in which songs made on the platform can’t be downloaded or distributed elsewhere. Spotify’s tool, a planned paid add-on for Premium subscribers, has no launch date. Suno lets users download what they make and release it elsewhere, with download caps and watermarks meant to curb abuse; songs made with its new models can be distributed through Believe and TuneCore.

Whether an artist opts out depends on who owns the rights. Songs typically carry two copyrights — one for the composition, usually held by songwriters and their publishers, and one for the sound recording, usually owned by the label. Every contract is different, so it’s unclear how AI products will handle music where those rights are split.

Waveforms of audio files from various instruments are displayed on a computer screen during the making of an AI musical piece at Suno.

(Robert F. Bukaty / Associated Press)

“These companies are able to make deals on behalf of their artists, and their control over their music is pretty significant based on what major label contracts typically say,” Davidson said. “But I expect that we will have some artists that push back against this and say that they didn’t authorize the use of their music for this purpose.”

Warner’s agreement with Suno, for example, lets artists opt in to having their names, likenesses, voices and compositions used in AI-generated music. But Jack Brody, Suno’s chief product officer, acknowledged that labels “ultimately have their contracts in place that will have some say in what an artist can and can’t do.” It’s also not always clear whether opting out keeps an artist’s recordings out of AI training, or only out of fan-facing features.

Michelle Lewis, a songwriter and the co-founder and chief executive of the nonprofit Songwriters of North America, said the composition side of that copyright split is often the harder one to defend.

“With AI, it’s so much easier to tell if you’ve infringed on the sound recording. You know what Beyoncé and Drake’s voices sound like,” said Lewis, who wrote Cher’s “A Different Kind of Love Song,” Little Mix’s “Wings” and the music for the Disney Jr. show “Doc McStuffins.” “But songwriting is so much more nebulous, so much harder to sue.”

“From the creator side, nobody asked for this. We like our job,” added Lewis. “The job is the process and what makes it special, interesting and artful.”

Some musicians argue the deals can’t cover rights the labels don’t control. A proposed class action filed last month by Jason Isbell and other musicians alleges Suno lets users generate songs that evoke specific artists’ identities without their consent, a right-of-publicity claim the plaintiffs say belongs to performers no matter who owns their recordings. Suno disputes the claims.

Session musicians like Evans are pushing back through their union.

“By licensing our members’ performances to AI platforms like Suno and Udio without consent, credit, or compensation, companies like Universal, Warner Records, and Atlantic are bypassing the very human creators who made their catalogs valuable in the first place,” AFM International President Tino Gagliardi said in a statement.

The labels have disputed the claims and argue that these deals advance the interests of artists and songwriters.

Jonathan Wyner, head of artistic technology initiatives at Berklee College of Music’s Emerging Artistic Technology Lab, compared the AI deals to the arrival of streaming services. Wyner has advised Suno.

“It’s a good step, and I think it was an inevitable step, especially if you want to stay engaged with musicians and the creative community,” he said.

That comparison cuts both ways. Streaming grew the industry while fueling years of complaints about artist pay.

Damon Krukowski, a musician and the legislative director at United Musicians & Allied Workers, said the deals so far don’t seem to benefit working-class musicians and could be used to cut them out entirely.

“It’s a new technology, but it’s not a new corporate story,” Krukowski said. “But the tools are even more powerful. It seems within their possible reach to destroy the labor market. The major labels are just seeing dollar signs without any regard to the long-term health or sustainability of this industry, because they’re envisioning an industry without artists who can push back.”

Brody disputed that, saying Suno is building ways for independent and unsigned artists to benefit, such as its deal with Believe and TuneCore.

With terms under wraps, it’s too early to know whether any of this will pay off for artists. The tests are still ahead — whether Sony and Universal win or settle, and what the first payouts actually look like.

“A label making a deal and an individual artist having a choice are not necessarily the same thing,” said Drew Silverstein, the senior advisor for AI at music tech company BandLab Technologies. “Our music industry has a long history of new revenue streams coming into existence that benefit certain folks, and create great financial opportunities for rights holders.”

Over the years, the concept of the “song of the summer” has been well-contested: Is it merely based on statistics? Is it the song that has become so omnipresent that many have become sick of it? Does this mean that “Happy” by Pharrell Williams and “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea count?

Last year, it was likely somewhere between Sabrina Carpenter’s “Manchild” and “Luther” by Kendrick Lamar, featuring SZA. Just based on numbers, it was Alex Warren’s “Ordinary,” but this is a strong case for why metrics don’t always matter.

On Sept. 23, the autumn equinox will arrive, officially bringing an end to the summer season and countless attempts at giving it an anthem. This year, there was a plethora of choices. So much so that we couldn’t narrow it down to a definitive tune.

However, you can find our potential picks below.

“The Peace,” underscores

“I don’t speak unless I’m spoken to / And I won’t smoke unless you’re smoking too.”

Underscores, the artist that you are. After “U” dropped in March, “The Peace” was one of the first tracks to go viral across social media. It’s since maintained its cultural relevancy, with the artist performing it as part of her DIY pop-up sets, staged from the back of a U-Haul truck.

Historically, underscores hasn’t written much about her personal life, opting for conceptual work. However, “The Peace” offers a rare, intimate glimpse into the artist’s love life and the feeling of sacrificing basic boundaries in order to satisfy someone else.

Beyond its storytelling, the song’s melody and chopped vocal riff are unforgettable on this track, standing out from the rest of the album. This isn’t a jab at the project — “U” is an incredible album and the song is just that good.

“stupid song,” Olivia Rodrigo

A song from Olivia Rodrigo’s third album, “You Seem Pretty Sad for a Girl So in Love,” was always going to make this list, given the strong reception it’s received and its incredible replayability. As further evidence of this, within weeks of its release, the song hit 300 million streams.

The album’s third single, “stupid song,” just makes it in over “the cure,” its second single. Though the latter has one of the best bridges of the year, its undeniably melancholic and macabre nature is what put it out of contention.

Though “stupid song” has its somber moments, it’s easier to scream in a crowd without catching concerned glares. This call for catharsis is ever-present in Rodrigo’s discography, but this last album is the artist in full stride.

“Dance…,” Slayyyter

Speaking of artists in full stride, Slayyyter has been the breakout act of the summer, which is incredible considering that her debut mixtape released in 2019. She’s got skin in the game but hasn’t really been able to crack the mainstream until the release of “Worst Girl in America” and a subsequent, viral Coachella set.

“Dance…” is the opening track of that album and also arguably the best song on it. After about a full minute of pensive, progressive, electronic buildup, listeners get a taste of bliss, sewn-in synths and heavy bass.

When one individual made the bold claim on X that it was “one of the best album intros ever,” Slayyyter was quick to respond with a simple “TRUE.” Shortly after its release, it went viral on Instagram reels and TikTok as creators used the song in a trend where they’d act fatigued before bursting into motion on beat.

“Caught in a Jam,” Portraits of Tracy

This is easily one of the most fun, captivating tracks of the summer — it’s funky, bouncy, buzzy and everything in between. Solidifying its cool is the reassuring note at the end of the music video description: “No generative AI was used at any stage in the production of this material.”

It features — without a doubt — one of the best bridges and refrains of the year, and perhaps onward. Not to mention, its lyrics are equally as enjoyable as the production.

“Oh, something changed in me, I felt it instantly / I had to hit the club so they could all see / Now I’m the dancing queen / F-f-f-far far from 17”

“Caught in a Jam” would an impressive feat from any artist, but it’s exciting to hear it coming from a 22-year-old. Hopefully, the future is bright and groovy for Portraits of Tracy. Reception of the artist’s latest EP, “Q: From Where Do Our Primal Instincts Originate? A: MTV! EP,” has been overwhelmingly positive, with Pitchfork placing it a 7.6 rating.

“BbY Wow,” Karol G, Judeline, rusowsky

The 2026 Coachella headliner is back at it again. This time around, Karol G released “BbY Wow” at the tail end of July, allowing it just enough time to seep into the brains of all its listeners.

Realistically, it needed no time at all. It didn’t take long for the song to hit No. 1 on Spotify global charts, receiving over 3 million streams within a week of its release.

The song is a masterclass in production, pulling and syncopating a sample from iconic dance hall tune “Coolie Dance Riddim,” released by Jamaican producer Cordel Skatta Burrell in 2003. In this, a lot of the heavy lifting is done, and all three artists are left to ride the smooth beat.

Naturally, Karol G really shines here, but Judeline and rusowsky provide an interesting dynamic to the song, making it an instant hit.

“Girl Like Me,” PinkPantheress

“Girl Like Me” is an odd entry for potential song of the summer. The track was released back in May 2025 as part of her second mixtape, “Fancy That.” However, it didn’t receive much buzz until April 2026, when PinkPantheress performed at Coachella.

Not long after, she released the official music video for the song, which blew up almost as soon as it landed on YouTube. The video, made in collaboration with faceless director Lauzza, features buildings shuffling on beat and other excerpts of British culture.

It would soon witness the same treatment on streaming, garnering a 165% increase in streaming activity over a four-week period, Billboard reported.

But it’s not all about numbers in the world of music and, thankfully, “Girl Like Me,” delivers sonically, as well. The song flips both “Romeo” and “Always Be There” by aughts-defining electronic duo Basement Jaxx and turns it into a thumping dance pop tune.

“Dine N’Dash,” the Strokes

As plainly stated in our coverage of the Strokes’ appearance at Just Like Heaven in August, the band is “currently riding the high” of its first Coachella performance in 15 years. “Reality Awaits” is an incredibly polarizing album. What’s dividing fans is Julian Casablancas’ insistence on using Autotune, as many prefer his raw vocals.

However, Autotune or not, “Dine N’Dash” is reminiscent of the best of the band, confirming that they’ve still got the juice to make hits 25 years after their debut. The chorus is the key here, as its smooth riff pauses for Casablancas to softy wail out “We could never afford it / So we dine and dash / I would always go last.”

Hello, 2001!

“brand new chanel$,” Slayyyter

It’s always difficult to give an artist a double entry on a list, but in the case of Slayyyter, it was mandatory. “Brand new chanel$” is poised to be a song off of a potential upcoming project, which is expected to be an inverse, “brother album” to “Worst Girl in America.”

In that, it completely lives up to her promises, taking the route of a more traditional pop song, while still delivering on all fronts. Notably, her vocal ability really shines through on this track, as she belts out “I‘m holding it alone just for tonight / I wonder if you / got her in your room / I call you on the phone to start a fight” during the chorus.

The song’s outro is equally as intoxicating, referencing the lyrics and melody of its apparent brother track, “Beat Up Chanel$.”

Like “Dance…,” the song was quick to go viral on social media, and the artist revealed that the song was made to process romantic trauma. Just two days before “WGIA” dropped and during rehearsals for her Coachella set, Slayyyter found out she had been cheated on by her then-boyfriend.

“Choosin’ Texas,” Ella Langley

It’s been 22 weeks since Langley’s “Choosin’ Texas” first appeared on top of the Billboard 100, tying Mariah Carey’s seasonally ubiquitous “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” Whether you like the song or not, its appeal is officially undeniable.

On Spotify, it’s racked up more than half a billion streams and on YouTube, nearly 100 million. Not to mention, it’s impossible to crawl into any dive bar in the country without being ambushed by “She’s from Texas, I can tell by the way / He’s two steppin’ ‘round the room,” delivered in a Southern drawl.

Is it the “Happy” or “Fancy” of 2026? We leave that with you to decide.

Sway Dasafo, a pioneering British Ghanaian rapper known for his lyric storytelling and championing of British music, has died. He was 44.

The rapper and producer’s death was announced Thursday on social media by the Mobo Awards, which celebrates music of Black origin. Dasafo’s friend Kash Ahmad confirmed to the BBC that he died at his home in Ghana. No cause of death was provided, but the outlet reported that Dasafo had been diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma in 2010 before going into remission later that year.

“We’re deeply saddened to hear of the passing of Sway,” Mobo wrote on Instagram. “Sway will always hold a special place in MOBO history.”

In 2005, Dasafo became the first unsigned artist to win the Mobo award for hip-hop act before he released an official album. He won over other established artists including 50 Cent and the Game off the strength of his mixtapes, “This Is My Promo” volumes one and two.

“Mixtapes effectively provide a diary of my life,” Dasafo told the Guardian in 2005. “They feature skits and interviews of me on radio. When people follow your story, they feel closer to you — it’s like a soap opera. People want to know what’s going to happen next.”

“It was a huge moment,” Mobo’s Instagram statement said of Dasafo’s win. “Not just for Sway, but for UK Hip Hop. At a time when British rappers were still fighting to be recognised alongside their US counterparts, his win made a real statement about the talent, creativity and potential coming out of the UK. … [W]e will always be proud that he was part of the MOBO story and of the history we shared together.”

Born Derek Andrews Safo on Sept. 5, 1982, in Hornsey, north London, to Ghanaian parents, Dasafo grew up primarily in England where he developed a love for literature and music. He started rapping as a hobby when he was 10 and was making beats on his computer at 13.

The versatile rapper got his start in groups such as Phynix Crew and One before going solo and releasing his series of mixtapes. Among his early hits were “Up Your Speed” and “Little Derek,” from his debut alum, “This Is My Demo,” which he released from his own label, Dcypha Productions.

“I’m a positive person and this positivity comes out in my music,” Dasafo said in his 2005 Guardian interview. “I don’t go round holding guns to people’s heads, so I won’t rap about holding guns to people’s heads. Trouble attracts trouble. If you rap about trouble, it will come to you.”

From early in his rap career, he expressed his desire to become a producer so he could sign and nurture other talent. Dasafo has collaborated with artists including Riz Ahmed, Ed Sheeran, Lupe Fiasco and Chamillionaire.

BBC Radio 1Xtra broadcaster Remi Burgz called Dasafo a “UK Rap pioneer” and “one of north London’s finest” during her program, according to the BBC.

“He was mine and many others’ first experience of U.K. rap [and] hip-hop in mainstream media,” she said. “He was a literal example of paving the way and showing that U.K. rap can take up space in music.”

Dasafo is survived by his two sons, Jalil and Ammar-Joseph, and twin daughters, Queen-Inaya and Queen-Imara.

If George Lucas invites you to a party, you go.

That much was clear Saturday at the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art’s opening-night soiree, where the guest list was as celebrity-heavy as any Academy Awards after-party. As the festivities kicked off around sunset in the courtyard under the museum’s towering elliptical oculus, Oprah Winfrey hugged Robert De Niro, and Harrison Ford and Calista Flockhart skipped the red carpet after chatting with Spike Lee. Laura Dern and Greta Gerwig laughed together by the entrance while Samuel L. Jackson plopped down on a curved bench, joking, “Hey, look what I did!”

He didn’t sit for long because Cynthia Erivo and Andy Garcia showed up and there were more hugs and handshakes and hellos. Owen Wilson, Leonardo DiCaprio, Kim Kardashian, Meg Ryan, Jack Quaid, Gov. Gavin Newsom, Rep. Nancy Pelosi, Justin Trudeau, Mark Hamill and Magic Johnson were there too, and that was just the beginning.

Gov. Gavin Newsom attended the opening-night party for the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art alongside a host of other notable guests and celebrities.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

After a rousing performance by a white-robe-clad vocal collective called Voices of Fire, co-founded by Pharrell Williams, Lucas’ wife Mellody Hobson noted that, “George kept saying, ‘Will this person come? Do you think this person will come?’”

“I said, ‘They will all come,’” Hobson said as the crowd laughed during opening remarks on a raised platform in the museum’s grand lobby.

And so they did. There was even a banner moment inside the posh fifth-floor Skywalker Grill where a group of directors gathered to be photographed in what could very well become a seminal photo of Hollywood influence in the 21st century. The shot included Lucas, Jon M. Chu, Chris Columbus, Francis Ford Coppola, Lee Daniels, Guillermo del Toro, Jon Favreau, Bryce Dallas Howard, Ron Howard, Peter Jackson, Chris Meledandri, Denis Villeneuve, Christopher Nolan, Spike Lee, Tyler Perry, Steven Spielberg, Frank Miller, Robert Rodriguez, Nathan Fielder and David Benioff.

Organizers were scrambling to find Gerwig, but she had dashed off somewhere else.

“Star Wars” legend Mark Hamill and his wife, Marilou York, were guests at the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art opening party.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

There were artists in attendance too, of course, but not as many. Jeff Koons, Refik Anadol, Judy Baca and Takashi Murakami strolled through the crowd, as did museum directors including the Broad’s Joanne Heyler and Los Angeles County Museum of Art’s Michael Govan, who was relieved to be attending someone else’s party after hosting so many of his own in April and May when the new Geffen Galleries opened.

Lucas and Hobson went to great lengths to explain why the Lucas Museum matters and why it is different from other museums. Their comments, in many ways, sought to address the criticism that has been lobbed at the museum since it held its press preview a few weeks back.

Though it has received a number of rave reviews, critics have called narrative art a false conceit and argued that the juxtaposition of masterworks with pop culture ephemera does not work. Much of the criticism has been focused on a perceived lack of context since there is almost no wall text clarifying why certain curatorial choices were made.

George Lucas and his wife Mellody Hobson hosted an extravagant opening party at the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

“When I started it, everybody said, ‘You’re crazy. You shouldn’t do it. It’s not going to work. People are going to come after you,’” Lucas said of his plans for the museum. “I said, ‘People have come after me all my life, especially in the movies.’”

Lucas also addressed why he curated the museum’s 100,000 square feet of gallery space on his own, noting that at a certain point plans were “getting off the rails.”

“I’m going to have to take this over because people don’t understand what I’m doing,” Lucas recalled thinking. “The idea that illustration is an art form and illustrators are artists was just too much for somebody who had been taught otherwise by the art schools that they went to and the universities that they went to.”

People with PhDs often can’t see the big picture, Lucas said, “You can’t say ‘This is art. This is not art.’ Art is in the eye of the beholder. If it is emotional to you, then it’s art. And, of course, I’ve been criticized up and down and sideways for that. But I believe it wholeheartedly — that you get to decide what art is.”

Members of the Virginia Beach vocal collective Voices of Fire, co-founded by Bishop Ezekiel Williams and Pharrell Williams perform at the Lucas Museum.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

Lucas noted that throughout his career he has worked with many illustrators, “and I will tell you, they are as talented as any artist I’ve ever met. This is the way of giving back to them something that they’ve all wanted … inevitably, all of the illustrators say the same thing — everybody from R. Crumb to Rockwell — they all say, ‘I wish I could be in a museum,’ but they can’t. There isn’t a major museum in the world that’ll have this kind of art in it. I’m hoping this will change that.”

Lucas’ comments came after his friend and co-host Queen Latifah noted to the cheering crowd that, “Paris has the Louvre, New York has the Met and now L.A. has the artistic equal.”

Guests mingle at the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art opening party.

(Carlin Stiehl/For The Times)

It took more than a decade for the Lucas Museum to land in L.A. after a search that included Chicago and San Francisco as well as lots of civic pushback and lawsuits over the use of public parkland.

“We did not realize how hard it would be to give a city a museum,” Hobson said during her remarks, later joking: “If your husband or spouse comes home and says they want to build a museum, I suggest your response is a hard no.”

Laura Dern, left, and Greta Gerwig spent the early part of the night chatting and laughing.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

Hobson went on to extol Lucas’ vision and his ability to never waver from his dream for the museum.

“He was driven to create a space that would showcase the brilliant illustrators that he thought were too often overlooked and ignored,” Hobson said. “And if critics say that a museum of narrative art is too much like a popcorn movie and not enough like an art film, well, we love popcorn movies in our family.”

Like a popcorn movie, the evening ended happily with a drone show in the night sky narrated by Winfrey and Jackson, and featuring images from the museum’s collection including the Cave of Altamira, N.C. Wyeth’s “The Storybook,” Julie Bell’s “The Huntress,” Banksy’s “Girl With Balloon,” the “Star Wars” Millennium Falcon and Maxfield Parrish’s “Ecstasy.”

Afterward the party moved inside from the rooftop terrace for a performance by the Black Eyed Peas.

There’s no better way to draw attention to an artist’s work than threatening to shut it down.

Take this week, when Macklemore was kicked off singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran’s tour at the behest of concert venue owners who found the rapper’s on-stage pleas to “Free Palestine” offensive.

Now Macklemore, who hasn’t had a major hit since the 2010s, is relevant again. He has the support of artists, fans and thousands more outraged by his dismissal and the humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza. The “Thrift Shop” rapper has emerged a hero, and a chastened Sheeran and Gillette Stadium owner Robert Kraft have pledged to donate millions toward humanitarian causes in “the region.”

The stakes are considerably higher for Israeli documentarians Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu threatened this week to revoke their citizenship for what he called the “shocking incitement” that is of their forthcoming documentary, “NAZA.”

NAZA is an acronym used by Israeli military intelligence to describe the number of civilians it estimates will be killed in an airstrike. The documentary captures the actions of Israel’s military after the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack in footage shot at night from Tel Aviv rooftops. “NAZA” also features anonymous interviews with intelligence officers and soldiers from the Israel Defense Forces, and builds on reporting first published by the Israeli-Palestinian publication +972 Magazine, the Hebrew-language outlet Local Call and The Guardian to make the case that mass civilian deaths were built into Israel’s target decisions in Gaza.

When “NAZA” premiered at the Venice Film Festival on Sept. 10, the documentary received a 25-minute standing ovation, setting a festival record. It went on to win the prestigious Special Jury Prize.

Soon after, the directors came under attack from members of Israel’s government, with Culture Minister Miki Zohar accusing them of “treason against the state” and calling for their citizenship to be revoked.

But it’s Netanyahu who’s providing free publicity for “NAZA,” ensuring that everyone outside the film festival circuit will know of the documentary by the time of its official North American premiere at the New York Film Festival on Sept. 26.

In a move that’s likely designed to quash “NAZA’s” release and silence its directors, the prime minster pledged this week to advance two bills that would address the “immense damage” done to Israeli soldiers in the film.

Netanyahu explained in a social media clip that one bill would “revoke the citizenship of anyone who defames soldiers, and the second [bill will] hit them in their pockets and increase the statutory damages for defamation they can ⁠be sued for by 20 times. We ⁠will hit them both in their pockets and in their citizenship, as their place is not with us.”

Macklemore lost his place on a pop music tour for speaking out against Israel’s military. Abraham and Szor may lose their place as Israeli citizens. The pair were already considered controversial for their 2024 documentary, “No Other Land,” a film chronicling five years of displacement and violence in the life of Palestinians in a small village in the occupied West Bank. It won the 2025 documentary feature film Oscar.

They explained in a statement why making “NAZA” was so important.

“We made this film out of a sense of obligation to use our position as Israeli filmmakers and journalists to examine the systems behind the mass killing of Palestinian civilians for which our country is responsible,” the statement said. “While filming members of Israel’s military on rooftops at night in Tel Aviv over the past three years, we found ourselves asking the very questions that were asked by our grandparents’ generation and throughout the 20th century: How does one group of people allow the total dehumanization of another? What do the inner workings of such a system look like? … The film lets us explore something deeper than we could in our investigative journalism alone: not only the words being said, but also those that are not said, the silence. It is up to all of us to break that silence.”

The filmmakers have said that they’re using an “innovative distribution model” to bring the film to audiences “as quickly as possible.” It’s slated to reach Los Angeles on Oct. 9 before rolling out in theaters nationwide.

“NAZA” may not need a robust marketing plan if Netanyahu and the Israeli government continue to condemn the film and threaten its creators with expulsion from their own country. Censorship, and worse, are the surest way to elevate an artist and their work. Just ask Macklemore.

In a matter of days, Ed Sheeran has gone from the most agreeable, defiantly middle-of-the-road singer-songwriter on the pop charts to music’s newest villain. The Times’ August Brown and Mikael Wood gathered to break down what happened — and to figure out what it all means.

August Brown: To recap, Sheeran dropped his tour opener, the rapper Macklemore, after the MC described Israel’s actions in Gaza as a genocide and said “Free Palestine” onstage this month at two New Jersey dates of Sheeran’s ongoing stadium tour. Macklemore, in a statement, cited his long friendship with Sheeran while criticizing the singer for allegedly acquiescing to a demand from Robert Kraft, the owner of the NFL’s New England Patriots, that the rapper not be allowed to perform at the Patriots’ Gillette Stadium outside Boston due to his comments.

Kraft, a Trump-supporting billionaire with his own colorful history, released a statement about the tour, saying he was “ensuring that events held at our venue do not provide a platform for hate speech.”

But Sheeran, who performed at Kraft’s wedding in 2022, arguably made things much worse with his own comments on the decision to drop Macklemore from the tour, which ranged from shifting accountability (“Macklemore coming off tour was the promoter’s decision, it was not mine”) to promising that he held compassionate beliefs on this volatile issue but wouldn’t articulate them publicly (“I am not complicit. I have my personal views on this devastating conflict. Just because I choose not to speak publicly, it doesn’t mean I don’t have them, and it doesn’t mean I don’t care.”)

This prompted Sheeran’s remaining openers — including the musician and producer Finneas, the Danish rock combo Lukas Graham and singer-songwriter Aaron Rowe — to drop off the tour, each giving their plainspoken support for both Macklemore’s advocacy and the Palestinian people as their reasons for leaving. The traditional Irish group Beoga, which backs Sheeran for a portion of his nightly show, also quit the tour, saying it was responding to “the silencing of Macklemore by Zionist lobbies.”

It’s too soon to know how this will affect a CVS-core pop star like Sheeran, but it’s clear that for the first time in his career, he’s chosen the path of maximum conflict and controversy for little gain. What do you think he should he have done instead?

Macklemore

(Morgan Hancock / Getty Images)

Mikael Wood: Not let Macklemore be booted from his tour?

Look, I understand Sheeran’s position here: that he views himself as an artist whose audience comes to his show precisely because they’d like to avoid the messy realities of the world for two or three hours. We can choose a different day to discuss how tenable (or not) that position is here in the era of a reality-TV president who long ago blurred the line between politics and entertainment.

But setting aside one’s views on Israel and Palestine, it’s impossible for me to see how Sheeran ever thought his actions would be seen as anything other than allowing a fellow artist to be silenced — a clear loser in the eyes of both the left and the right.

It would be one thing if Macklemore’s comments in New Jersey truly resembled the hate speech that Kraft accused him of dispensing. (Many online have posted images of a costume the rapper wore onstage in 2014 that resembled an ugly Jewish caricature; Macklemore apologized at the time, saying he understood the criticism.)

And of course I get that the very idea of hate speech is slippery — one reason, perhaps, that the folks at AT&T Stadium near Dallas (where Sheeran is scheduled to perform next month) appear to have no problem hosting a concert in November by Ye, who not so long ago released a song called, uh, “Heil Hitler.”

But given how measured Macklemore’s comments were, Sheeran’s decision to go along with the demands for his removal feels less like a fulfillment of his desire to create a conflict-free zone and more like a capitulation to a rich and powerful friend.

August, what do you make of the various statements from the musicians who’ve opted to leave the tour in the wake of all this?

August Brown: The other openers had the most to lose here by bowing out of a huge tour. Yet they took unambiguous stances in favor of Macklemore’s Palestinian advocacy. (On Wednesday, the rapper said on Instagram that he planned to donate “the entire $1 million of my net earnings” from Sheeran’s tour to six organizations “working directly to support the Palestinian people.” He also invited Kraft to match his donation.)

“Artists must not be silenced when they speak up for the oppressed,” Finneas wrote. “I stand with Palestine and its people.”

Lukas Graham went even harder: “We should be able to speak about war, about civilians being killed, about children who deserve to grow up,” the group wrote. “Money doesn’t give you the right to own the conversation.”

Sheeran could have done what many fans regard as the right thing: Defy Kraft’s demands, cancel the Gillette Stadium dates with Macklemore and reroute the tour to somewhere that would support an opening act’s fairly anodyne support of a popular human rights cause. Sheeran is extremely wealthy, and he’d have been on the right side of history, if for no other reason than to say that billionaires shouldn’t have a veto over an artist’s human rights advocacy onstage.

I’m sympathetic to the idea that crews’ livelihoods and fans’ investment in the shows are meaningful things to toss out. But an artist as big as Sheeran can make up the difference. Even a hypothetical statement like “I stand for Macklemore’s freedom of speech and the rights of the Palestinian people. My team’s livelihoods depends on the shows happening, so I will play the Gillette dates as planned,” with a promise for a donation or a benefit show with Macklemore down the line — even that would have smoothed this over.

But his actions here — deflecting accountability, being vague yet defensive about his own politics — and his history with Kraft suggest his sympathies might not lie with the causes his opening acts stand for.

It’s interesting that Beoga and Aaron Rowe, both Irish acts, acknowledged their own country’s history of colonial occupation as reason to stand up for Palestinians (and free speech around it). “Ed has been a friend to me and has changed my life, I could never thank him enough for this,” Rowe wrote in his statement. “But as Irish people we know all too well about genocide, forced famine, and violent occupation.”

Even Lukas Graham cited the band’s roots in Christiania, a Danish enclave with a history as an anarchist commune, as an example they’re following by bailing on this tour. Sheeran likes to say that, through his father, he is culturally Irish though he was born and raised in England. In a country that rallied for Kneecap, the Irish rap group and advocates for Palestinians, his reputation is likely taking a real hit. Whether that extends to his ultra-mainstream U.S. fan base remains to be seen.

Not every artist is obliged to comment on contentious issues — though the success of Olivia Rodrigo’s Daisy Chain Fields festival, which raised money for an array of abortion-rights advocacy groups, showed that A-listers can speak out when they want to. But whatever he actually believes, Sheeran’s long-cultivated neutrality is in tatters. Taking a stand would have been the path of least resistance. Instead, he committed the most basic onstage error: a failure to read the room.

The Country Music Assn. will put on a two-hour live TV special honoring Dolly Parton, who died last month at the age of 80.

The association said Wednesday that the television tribute — titled “CMA Presents I Will Always Love You: A Celebration of Dolly Parton” — will be recorded live at the Fisher Center for the Performing Arts, on the campus of Belmont University in Nashville.

The tribute will air Oct. 21 at 6 p.m. Pacific on ABC and Disney+, and will stream on Hulu a day later.

In a news release, CMA described the special as a “joyful, emotional celebration” dedicated to Parton, the rhinestone-studded singer whose life began humbly, in a one-room cabin at the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains.

Robert Deaton, veteran executive producer of the Country Music Awards and Billboard Music Awards, will fill that role on the Parton project.

“Dolly gave Country Music its heart, and giving some of that heart back to her is an incredible honor,” said Deaton in a news release Wednesday. “My hope is simply that we do right by her story, her music and the people who love her, so that this evening feels like the tribute my friend deserves.”

Sarah Trahern, CMA chief executive, added that the tribute is the association’s “responsibility”: “This special is our way of saying thank you, on behalf of every artist, industry member and fan who found a piece of themselves in her music.”

The tribute is in partnership with Belmont University, which hosted the 2025 world premiere of “Dolly: A True Original Musical,” a biographical production about the “9 to 5” singer that is scheduled for its Broadway debut on Jan. 19, what would have been the Parton’s 81st birthday.

The university also previously launched “Dolly U,” an immersive educational partnership designed to connect students with hands-on opportunities in entertainment, media and creative industries.

Greg Jones, president of Belmont University, welcomed the special with a statement of his own: “It is a privilege to welcome artists, friends and fans from around the world to celebrate her extraordinary life and legacy from this stage in Nashville, honoring a woman whose love for Tennessee was woven into everything she did.”

Both the CMA and Belmont University will make a donation from the proceeds to Parton’s Imagination Library, which was launched by the Dollywood Foundation in 1995 to address childhood literacy by giving millions of children the gift of a free book each month. Disney will also support the program.

News of the television tribute follows an announcement last month by Parton’s estate that revealed plans for Dollyfest, a two-day celebration in Nashville and London next year across two consecutive weekends to honor her legacy.

Additional details for the CMA special, including performers and tickets, will be announced at a later date.