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Jennifer Finch, bassist for the influential Los Angeles rock band L7, has died. She was 59.

Finch died of “an aggressive form of brain cancer,” according to a statement from the band.

“We are shattered by the loss of our beloved bandmate, sister and friend Jennifer Finch, whose fierce spirit, humor and boundless creativity helped shape L7 and changed all of our lives forever,” the group said in its statement. “Jennifer was a true original who lived entirely on her own terms, and the impact she made on music, art and everyone lucky enough to know her cannot be measured. We love her beyond words and will carry her with us always. Rest in power our dear friend.”

Finch was receiving ongoing treatment for brain cancer, and just last week backed out of the band’s planned final tour. The group said those dates were “planned along with Jennifer when all four of us were in good health and spirits,” and Finch had asked the band to continue the shows while she sought treatment.

Finch, raised in Los Angeles, was an outspoken and ambitious fixture of ‘90s rock. She briefly performed in a band with Courtney Love pre-Hole and Babes In Toyland’s Kat Bjelland, and once dated Dave Grohl. But she came to prominence in L7, a foundational act in the alt-rock scene of the ‘90s.

Formed in 1985 by guitarists and singers Suzi Gardner and Donita Sparks, drummer Dee Plakas and Finch, they made a fast impact on L.A.’s punk scene, which was growing out of the hyper-masculine hardcore era of the ‘80s. Alongside Hole and Sleater-Kinney, L7 helped usher in the riot grrl wave of confrontational, female-led rock acts onto charts and festival bills.

“Rock ‘n’ roll was invented and became popular because of its rebellious nature,” Finch told the Times in 1993. “But the world has seen every form of rebellion–from throwing TVs out the windows to heroin abuse to just the guy in the leather jacket with greased-back hair–and the rebel image is becoming tired and burnt out. So (the press) is finding new interest in women who (rebel), creating a whole new aspect.”

“The unfortunate thing is that journalists are trying to create a genre out of gender, which trivializes it,” she added. “That’s extremely ignorant, because it bypasses the uniqueness between the groups.”

Bolstered by Finch’s ferocious basslines, hit single “Pretend We’re Dead” received significant airplay on alternative rock stations and became the group’s signature song, along with the biting anti-war anthem “Wargasm.” Finch wrote several songs across the group’s catalog, including the scabrous single “Everglade.” L7 went on hiatus in 2001, but reunited in 2014.

Finch was a talented photographer, whose intimate shots of SoCal bands lent an air of tragic grit to an ascendant punk and rock scene. “The irony is not lost on me when I’m driving from my house just blocks from where I grew up, and I’m heading to the L.A. Weekly to publish pictures of us as kids hanging out and shooting up, 20 years ago,” she told L.A. Weekly in 2006.” It feels weird but strangely hopeful. That was a totally unique time and it defined who we are, so then maybe it’s not a bad thing to be nostalgic about.”

Beyond L7, her song with OtherStarpeople, “Then There’s None,” appeared on the beloved “Office Space” soundtrack, and founded the punk band The Shocker in 2002. She acted in John Waters’ dark comedy “Serial Mom” as a member of the fictional band Camel Lips.

L7’s last album, “Scatter the Rats,” was released in 2019, and its final tour, “The Last Hurrah,” is booked to kick off in San Diego on Oct. 6.

L7 and Finch’s family opened a GoFundMe to support her medical care, saying “We love her, and we want her to feel the full strength of the community that has loved and supported her for so many years.” Information on surviving family was not immediately available.

THIS is the moment Matty Healy performed with a The 1975 tribute band – having booked the act for his stag do.

Brit Award winner Matty, 37, has been lead vocalist of pop rock band The 1975 since 2002.

The singer-songwriter put a unique spin on his stag do – as he joined a The 1975 tribute act on stage.

A clip of the moment begins with tribute group The 9075 singing The Sound, which was released in 2019.

Matty jumps on stage mid-performance and performs alongside the band.

One person commented: “Matty Healy attending a 1975 tribute is very Matty Healy coded.”

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Another added: “I thought the real Matty was the fake Matty until he started counting things on his fingers that don’t need to be counted, that’s when I knew.”

A third wrote: “He wanted to experience a 1975 concert for his stag party and I respect it.”

Matty – the son of Denise Welch and Tim Healy – is set to marry American model and singer Gabbriette.

He and the 28-year-old – whose real name is Gabriella Bechtel – announced their engagement in June 2024.

Gabbriette showed off a huge black ring on social media at the time and wrote: “Marrying the 1975 is very Brat.”

Back in February, The Sun revealed the couple had set a July 2026 wedding date.

Jennifer Finch, the bassist for veteran LA rock act L7, has brain cancer and will not perform with the band on its farewell tour this year.

“Our beloved bandmate, sister and friend Jennifer Finch has been diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer,” the band wrote in a statement on its Instagram on Monday. “Following multiple surgeries and serious complications, Jennifer now requires extensive medical care, rehabilitation and professional in-home support.”

The group said that its final tour, scheduled for fall, “was planned along with Jennifer when all four of us were in good health and spirits.” Finch asked the band to continue with these performances, according to the statement.

“We will honor her request while making her care and well-being our immediate priority,” the band wrote. “We love her, and we want her to feel the full strength of the community that has loved and supported her for so many years.”

L7, a hugely influential act in the alt-rock wave of the ‘90s, was formed in 1985 by guitarists and singers Suzi Gardner and Donita Sparks, drummer Dee Plakas and Finch. Its firey singles “Pretend We’re Dead” and “Wargasm” helped kick off the riot grrl movement of the era, until they went on hiatus in 2001. The band reunited in 2014, and will begin The Last Hurrah tour in San Diego on Oct. 6.

The band also posted a GoFundMe for donations to help with her medical care . “The level of care Jennifer needs has gone beyond what friends and family can safely provide around the clock,” the band wrote. “As we face the difficult reality that Jennifer may have more good days behind her than ahead, we are asking for help to make the time she has with her friends, family, and fans as comfortable, meaningful, and full of love as possible.”

Thinking back on the last two years of his life full of album releases, filming schedules and tour dates, Finn Wolfhard requires squint-inducing concentration to keep it all straight.

“Jesus, a lot has happened,” he says, looking surprised. That’s an understatement.

In that time, the 23-year-old not only finished filming the Netflix hit show “Stranger Things,” which catapulted him to global stardom, and promoted the final season upon its premiere. He also released his feature film directorial debut (“Hell of a Summer,” co-directed with Billy Bryk, which hit theaters in April 2025). Then, he starred in another movie (A24’s creature feature “The Legend of Ochi”), directed a posthumous George Harrison stop-motion music video, wrote, recorded and put out his first solo album (“Happy Birthday”), and embarked on a 22-date tour before recording a new album.

On a video call from his family home in Vancouver, Canada, where he lives with his parents and older brother, he’s chatting about the release of that record, the eclectic, guitar-driven “Fire From the Hip,” which dropped Friday.

“I think it’s a nice day?” he offers when I ask what’s happening in Vancouver. “I don’t know. I’ve been in my basement studio all day, so I don’t … I think it’s nice.”

He’s been down in the basement doing press calls like this, he explains, undoubtedly a familiar routine after so many years in the limelight. He wears a baseball cap and an oversize brown sweater, tugging on the sleeves while he ponders.

Even if Wolfhard is exhausted by the press marathon, he doesn’t show it. He’s excited for the chance to be known on his own terms. He never fails to express gratitude for the projects that afforded him recognition and opportunity, but he’s ready to “take control of the narrative.”

“I spent my whole childhood standing on marks that other people told me to stand on and saying lines that other people told me to say,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I want to make my own stuff?”

Being in control also means being the face of the operation. Before “Happy Birthday” and “Fire From the Hip,” Wolfhard released a total of two records and an EP, plus a whole bunch of singles, with his previous bands, Calpurnia and the Aubreys. Being in a band was a natural fit for Wolfhard, who thrives in an ensemble where he can “hide behind the band name.”

Touring last year was his first time seeing his own name on the marquee.

“It’s just straight up me, and if I suck, I suck,” he laughs. “It’s not like I can be like, ‘Oh, man, we’re having disagreements in the band.’ It’s like, no, that’s you. So there was a little more pressure early on.”

Finn Wolfhard released “Fire From the Hip” on Friday.

(Victoria Stevens)

Stepping into the spotlight required Wolfhard, who admits he shies away from conflict, to own both the pressure and the power of being the one audiences came to hear.

When he got sick and had to cancel a show in Portland, Ore., he remembers feeling crushingly sad “letting down” his fans and bandmates — who, of course, assured him it was outside of his control and urged him not to be so hard on himself.

Wolfhard introduced many of the songs that ended up becoming “Fire From the Hip” to his bandmates while they were still on tour, and he says playing them live “cultivated the spirit” of the eventual recordings. Despite his collaborative ethos, there was a moment during the process where he had to learn how to put his foot down in real time.

“I remember suggesting something and people being like, ‘Ah, I don’t know if I want to do that.’ And I was like, ‘No, you don’t get to do that to me. It’s my record,’” he remembers. “It was very innocent — I don’t think there was much ego on either side. But I think I maybe set up too collaborative of an experience that day.”

“I think I sometimes make it feel like a democracy, which it is in a lot of ways,” he adds. “But also, in the end, it is up to me.”

That thought is echoed in the album’s cover art, an image of two miniature Finn Wolfhards facing off, donning colonial garb and brandishing weapons. It’s meant to represent dueling impulses inside of him, he explains.

Wolfhard, a true-blue music nerd, has been described online as an archetypical example of the “child of a Gen X cool dad,” in the same vein as Olivia Rodrigo. (His dad, a former screenwriter turned lawyer and Indigenous rights researcher, does sound cool, but it was his mom who first introduced him to the Beatles. His parents apparently met over a Stone Roses record.)

That sensibility is evident in his musical influences — “I wanted everything [on drums] to sound like the first two Wilco records,” he says — and in his approach to recording. “Happy Birthday” was recorded almost entirely on four-track cassette tapes, while “Fire From the Hip” uses 24-track reel-to-reel.

The album runs the gamut from its cheeky, surf-rock opener “I’ll Let You Finish” (yes, that is a reference to Kanye West’s infamous speech at the 2009 VMAs) to more ’90s alt-inspired tunes to a surprising dose of straightforward country-folk.

Lyrically, Wolfhard divides his songs into two categories: the “very personal” and the story songs written around books he was reading (“Knockemstiff” by Donald Ray Pollock) or quotes that made him laugh. The personal themes he explores are exactly what you would expect from an early-20s rocker raised in the public eye — namely, relationship expectations and existential fears about the future.

On the nostalgic piano ballad “Good Morning,” he imagines what it might be like to settle down somewhere “with a dog and a wife.”

“I haven’t lived that part of my life yet,” he says now. “So I can really easily get lost in thinking about what that looks like.”

When it comes to sharing his music, especially the more vulnerable tracks, Wolfhard knows his “Stranger Things” fame is the elephant in the room. Anything he sings can and might be used against him in the court of public opinion.

“I could either kind of say nothing and be totally private, because it is scary knowing that everything I say, at least one person will take it a certain way that I wouldn’t want them to. But I just don’t have the control,” he says.

“So if I don’t have the control, then there’s nothing really that I can do, other than try to be as truthful and passionate and well-meaning as I possibly can, you know?”

The double-edged sword of fandom hasn’t stopped Wolfhard or his musically-inclined “Stranger Things” co-stars from pursuing this path. Fellow Hawkins alums Joe Keery (who releases music under the moniker Djo) and Maya Hawke are indie darlings in their own right, and Wolfhard has previously referred to Keery as a mentor. None of them face the unique challenge of relatability in quite the same way, however.

“I’m aware that my specific problems are maybe not as relatable because of how specific of a life I have,” he said. “The only thing I can hope for is that some other person out there listens to it and relates to the same things that I do.”

Sometimes an air of wistfulness accompanies these admissions. When asked about how he feels about Los Angeles, he tells me that it’s complicated: “I think if I wasn’t a young actor, it would be a very different situation.” His favorite parts of the city are its repertory cinemas and lush neighborhoods like Mount Washington, where his godfather resides, because they look the most like Vancouver.

That said, he’s not through with Hollywood. He’ll be back in L.A. for an Oct. 13 show at the Fonda Theatre, and acting and directing are still on the agenda. He would like his next film project — other than the Matt Johnson and Bong Joon Ho projects he’s already committed to, of course — to be something more “personal.”

For now, though, the focus is music. Wolfhard launches a new tour this month, and he’s most looking forward to “doing dumb s—” with his friends.

He tells a quick story to illustrate: When he and the band last toured in Glasgow, Scotland, he was trying to leave the venue without being noticed. (“I have a hard time dealing with fan interaction,” he says.)

“We kind of made it into this joke thing, knowing it wouldn’t work, where me and Rand, my guitarist, were like, ‘let’s switch clothes.’ Rand pretended to be me and I pretended to be Rand,” he says. Miraculously, it worked up until the “very last second” before they stepped on the bus.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he says: He instinctively made eye contact with someone in the crowd. “They did a double take, like, ‘Wait, what?’”

It sounds like a scene straight out of “A Hard Day’s Night” — or maybe inspiration for his next film.

“I’m pretty in my head about things and want them to be a certain way,” he says. “The thing that I have to remind myself all the time is that, like, dude, you’re with your friends, you’re playing music — it’s the best.”

In 1975, 31-year-old Mick Jagger told People magazine that “I’d rather be dead than sing ‘Satisfaction’ at 45.” The Rolling Stones’ frontman is still very much alive, despite having performed that song in concert hundreds of times since then, most recently in 2024 during the band’s “Hackney Diamonds” tour. Jagger was 80 at the time.

“Time waits for no one,” as the Stones once sang, but apparently that doesn’t apply to the “World’s Greatest Rock and Roll Band.” To paraphrase the group’s first Top 10 U.S. hit in 1964, time is on their side. Yes, it is.

Consider the fates of the British Invasion superstars who emerged from England alongside the Stones in the 1960s. The Beatles broke up in 1970. The Kinks dissolved in 1996. The original Animals imploded in 1966. The Who called it quits in 1982 but has reunited repeatedly, including for its recent North American farewell tour.

And then there’s the indestructible, indefatigable Rolling Stones. With the partnership of Jagger and guitarist Keith Richards still front and center, the Stones will release their 27th studio album, “Foreign Tongues,” on Friday. Over the decades, they have produced classics such as “Exile on Main St.” and “Some Girls,” mediocrity like “Steel Wheels,” and abominations such as “Dirty Work.” We rank the group’s six-decade studio output from worst to first. All albums are the U.S. editions.

27. ‘Dirty Work’ (1986)

Never has an album cover so captured a band’s mood. “Dirty Work” features a photo of sullen, unsmiling Rolling Stones looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. The music reflects that disinterest. Apart from the cover of “Harlem Shuffle,” nothing here is memorable. It’s no surprise that the Stones nearly broke up during this period.

26. ‘Undercover’ (1983)

The follow-up to the brilliant “Tattoo You” landed with a thud. Although the song “Undercover of the Night” nicely melds a solid guitar riff with trenchant lyrics about political corruption and violence in South America, the rest of the album wilts.

25. ‘Bridges to Babylon’ (1997)

Another in a series of disappointing releases, “Bridges to Babylon” has one great song, “Saint of Me,” and lots of filler.

24. ‘Steel Wheels’ (1989)

Touted as a return to form, this album certainly outshines “Undercover” and “Dirty Work.” But that’s not saying much. With dated production and too many songs that make a good first impression but fail to stick, “Steel Wheels” has gathered moss over the years.

23. ‘Voodoo Lounge’ (1994)

Like its predecessor “Steel Wheels,” this is another attempt to recapture their classic sound. To an extent, the record succeeds. “You Got Me Rocking” sounds like a throwback to something on “Exile on Main St.,” while the ballad “Out of Tears” echoes “Angie.” With the exception of “Love Is Strong,” however, most of the songs here are little more than pleasant exercises in nostalgia.

22. ‘The Rolling Stones: England’s Newest Hitmakers’ (1964)

A solid debut, “England’s Newest Hitmakers” features covers of songs by Willie Dixon, Chuck Berry and Jimmy Reed, firmly grounding the group in its American blues and R&B influences. The sole Jagger/Richards original here, “Tell Me,” only hints at the duo’s future songwriting prowess.

21. ‘Black and Blue’ (1976)

After guitar virtuoso Mick Taylor’s departure from the Stones in late 1974, the band used “Black and Blue” to audition potential replacements. They settled on Ronnie Wood, a former member of the Faces who, ever since then, has engaged in the ancient art of guitar weaving with Keith Richards. Heavy on grooves and jams, this album sometimes feels unfocused and indulgent. The excellent ballads “Memory Motel” and “Fool to Cry” are essential.

20. ‘12X5’ (1964)

A step forward from their debut, “12X5” has the magnificent covers “Time Is on My Side” and “It’s All Over Now.” For those who like their Stones bluesy, early albums like this offer a cornucopia of treasures.

19. ‘Blue & Lonesome’ (2016)

Recorded in just three days, this album of blues covers sizzles. The Stones sound absolutely committed, with Jagger’s harmonica and vocals particularly strong.

18. ‘The Rolling Stones, Now!’ (1965)

On the band’s third U.S. album, the Stones rock harder and softer. Their version of Willie Dixon’s “Little Red Rooster” is a slow burn. The ballad “Heart of Stone,” one of their best early originals, made the Billboard Top 20.

17. ‘Foreign Tongues’ (2026)

The Stones have rarely sounded looser or more alive. Produced again by the classic-rocker whisperer Andrew Watt (Paul McCartney, Elton John, Pearl Jam), the band delivers a clutch of strong songs. In a just world, the single “In the Stars” would be a hit. “Back in Your Life,” fueled by some of Wood’s most sensitive and impassioned playing, is a stunner. At 14 songs and 62 minutes, the album would have benefited from trimming three or four of the more generic tunes. Still, it’s amazing that Jagger and Richards, both 82, and Wood, 79, have made such a fresh and vital record. Sometimes you can get what you want.

16. ‘A Bigger Bang’ (2005)

For the band’s first album of originals in eight years, the Stones remind you what makes them great. The first of their three late-career triumphs, “A Bigger Bang” brings attitude, funk, dirty rockers and dreamy ballads. The blazing “Rough Justice” and the slinky, sexy “Rain Fall Down” are topflight.

15. ‘Hackney Diamonds’ (2023)

Eighteen years passed between the release of “A Bigger Bang” and this album. It was worth the wait. “Hackney Diamonds” is another strong effort, with the banger “Angry” sounding urgent and, well, genuinely angry. The gospel-tinged “Sweet Sounds of Heaven,” featuring Lady Gaga, finds her and Jagger trading vocals and pushing each other to the stratosphere. It’s the best song the group has made since “Tattoo You’s” “Waiting on A Friend” and “Start Me Up” in 1981. The absence of late drummer Charlie Watts is felt, but Jagger and Richards prove that old geezers can still rock.

14. ‘Out of Our Heads’ (1965)

A very strong outing that includes originals “The Last Time,” “Play With Fire” and “Satisfaction,” one of the best rock songs ever written.

13. ‘It’s Only Rock ‘n Roll’ (1974)

Keith Richards’ deepening heroin problem meant Jagger had to carry more of the load himself. On this album, he acquits himself admirably. The anthemic title track positively swaggers. The poignant “Time Waits for No One” features one of Taylor’s most beautiful solos, a fitting coda to the end of his five-year career with the Stones. A fine album with several good songs and a couple great ones.

12. ‘December’s Children (And Everybody’s)’ (1965)

A hodgepodge of live cuts, outtakes, British LP tracks and singles, this album shows the Stones rapidly gaining confidence and playing with equal parts finesse and fire. Any album with “Get Off of My Cloud” and “As Tears Go By” is worth the price of admission.

11. ‘Their Satanic Majesties Request’ (1967)

Released months after “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” this occasionally ill-advised foray into psychedelia pales in comparison to the Beatles’ masterpiece. That doesn’t mean it’s bad. In fact, the Stones never sounded as adventurous or experimental. When it works, as it does on “She’s a Rainbow” and “2000 Light Years From Home,” candy-colored bliss follows.

10. ‘Emotional Rescue’ (1980)

An underrated gem often overshadowed by its predecessor, “Some Girls,” and its successor, “Tattoo You,” “Emotional Rescue” finds the Stones in fine form at the dawn of a new decade. The rhythm section of bassist Bill Wyman and drummer Watts locks in, while Richards and Wood converse with their guitars as only they can. Jagger sounds energized on the rockers “Let Me Go” and “She’s So Cold” and sexy on the incredibly funky “Dance (Pt. 1).”

9. ‘Goats Head Soup’ (1973)

Considered a big letdown after the magisterial “Exile on Main St.,” this album has received a well-deserved critical reappraisal and aged like a fine wine. It’s not the Stones at their peak, but close enough. “Angie” is absolutely gorgeous, while “Star Star” captures the Stones at their most profane.

8. ‘Tattoo You’ (1981)

Needing new material for their 1981 tour, the Stones cobbled together “Tattoo You” from leftovers and half-finished songs dating back to “Goats Head Soup.” Jagger penned new lyrics, recorded new vocals, and presto — the band made its last classic. “Start Me Up,” the band’s best rocker since “Brown Sugar,” propelled the album to multiplatinum sales and shook stadiums around the world. It still does.

7. ‘Aftermath’ (1966)

The first Stones album composed entirely by Jagger and Richards, “Aftermath” represents a quantum leap forward or two. Brian Jones, before drugs and paranoia dimmed his creative spark, made some of his greatest contributions, elevating “Paint It Black” with his sitar and adding the indelible marimba riff to “Under My Thumb.” The Stones had finally lived up to all the hype.

6. ‘Between the Buttons’ (1967)

The American version kicks off with the one-two-three punch of “Let’s Spend the Night Together,” “Yesterday’s Papers” and “Ruby Tuesday” and doesn’t let up. Arguably the band’s poppiest album, it sounds like groovy Swinging London set to music.

5. ‘Some Girls’ (1978)

After the lackluster “Black and Blue” and the mixed critical reception of “It’s Only Rock ‘n Roll” and “Goats Head Soup,” some wondered if the Stones had lost their musical magic. They needn’t have worried. The band, hungry to prove the doubters wrong, made one of its strongest albums. With Wood now fully integrated into the group , punky, guitar-centric rockers like “Respectable,” “When the Whip Comes Down” and “Shattered” snarl. Jagger, entranced by the sounds coming out of New York’s discos at the time, contributed the No. 1 “Miss You.” Add “Beast of Burden” and the countryish “Far Away Eyes” to the mix and you have the ingredients for a stunning comeback.

4. ‘Beggars Banquet’ (1968)

The start of one of the strongest four-album runs in rock history, “Beggars Banquet” is a near-perfect listen from beginning to end. New producer Jimmy Miller helps strip the band down to its rawest, raunchiest essence on songs like “Sympathy for the Devil,” “Stray Cat Blues,” and “Street Fighting Man.” For the first time, the Stones had released an album on par with some of the Beatles’ best work. Indispensable.

3. ‘Sticky Fingers’ (1971)

Unbreakable love (“Wild Horses”); heartbreak (“I’ve Got the Blues”); slavery, interracial sex and heroin (“Brown Sugar”); addiction (“Sister Morphine”) — “Sticky Fingers” has it all, along with some of the most powerful music in the Stones’ catalog. If a Martian came to Earth and wanted to know what made the Stones special, a listen to “Sticky Fingers” would make it abundantly clear.

2. ‘Let It Bleed’ (1969)

By the end of the ’60s, the dream had faded. Vietnam, inner-city riots, and the assassinations of Robert F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. had cast a pall over the Day-Glo optimism of the Love Generation. The Rolling Stones were there to chronicle the impending hangover. “Gimme Shelter” reflected the growing dread of the times. It’s among the darkest, grittiest and most transcendent songs ever recorded, with Jagger singing about rape and murder over Richards’ shimmering guitar. In the powerhouse “Midnight Rambler,” Jagger takes on the persona of a killer, even name-checking the Boston Strangler. Dark stuff. Yet the superb “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” replete with a gospel choir, the country stylings of “Let It Bleed” and “Love in Vain,” sung by Jagger with utter conviction, give the album incredible diversity and depth.

1. ‘Exile on Main St.’ (1972)

And then there was one. Recorded largely in the steamy, sweltering basement of Richards’ rented French villa, Nellecôte, “Exile” reeks of filth, decadence and decay. With Jagger’s vocals often buried deep in the muddy and murky mix, the album initially sounds like a druggy demo. But listen again. And again. Slowly, it reveals itself as quintessential Stones, a potent admixture of styles, sounds and soul. Richards tosses off one indelible riff after another, making “Rocks Off,” “Happy,” “Tumbling Dice” and “All Down the Line” rock and roll perfection. You like your Stones with a dash of Americana? “Sweet Virginia” might be the band’s best country rocker. Blues? Try “Ventilator Blues.” Gospel? “Shine a Light,” accented with Billy Preston’s piano and organ, transports listeners to a higher place. Other Stones records contain more classics and better production, but none holds together as well as a whole or comes as close to the sublime as this one.

Marc Ballon, a former Times, Forbes and Inc. Magazine reporter, teaches an advanced writing class at USC. He lives in Fullerton.

Here’s a terrible-seeming idea: The Rolling Stones should get started on their next album.

Like, now.

After taking nearly two decades to release 2023’s “Hackney Diamonds” — the band’s first set of original material since “A Bigger Bang” in 2005 — the Stones are back this week with a follow-up, “Foreign Tongues,” that took them less than 36 months to get out.

And it’s the better record in every way.

In the old days, of course, two and a half years was all they needed to make “Beggars Banquet,” “Let It Bleed” and “Sticky Fingers.” So let’s not get too carried away by the fact Mick Jagger, Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood are working as fast as they are in their late 70s and early 80s.

Yet to listen to the brisk and sportive “Foreign Tongues” is to hear a band clearly going on instinct rather than overthinking the music à la any number of veteran acts in legacy-maintenance mode. I don’t know if the result is the Stones’ best since 1978’s “Some Girls,” but it’s definitely the funniest, which is actually the more impressive achievement.

“Wake up in the morning and you wanna make me puke,” Jagger sneers in the punky “Hit Me in the Head” — exactly the kind of lyric you’d hope to hear from a band whose only possible reason for still being in the game is to have a gas-gas-gas.

Like “Hackney Diamonds” — and, for that matter, like Paul McCartney’s “The Boys of Dungeon Lane” (to name one recent overthinking-veteran LP) — “Foreign Tongues” was produced by 35-year-old Andrew Watt, who’s made a career of helping boomer icons put a little shine on their late-in-life efforts. And he’s helped the Stones convene an appealingly motley crew of collaborators here, including McCartney (who plays bass on “Covered in You”), the Cure’s Robert Smith (who contributes guitar to “Divine Intervention”), Steve Winwood (who plays piano and organ throughout the album) and Bruno Mars (who’s credited with, uh, cowbell in “Never Wanna Lose You”).

You also get a welcome appearance from the late Charlie Watts in a hard-thwacking performance recorded before his death in 2021. (Steve Jordan otherwise keeps time.)

But none of the stunt casting feels like the point of the album, which instead simply doles out a dozen tunes in the Stones’ various idioms — the bluesy stomp, the country-ish lope, the sleazy disco jam — plus a couple of covers in just over an hour. It’s frisky and lighthearted, even when Jagger is lamenting what he sees as the sorry state of his beloved America in “Ringing Hollow” and when Richards is croaking about love having put him on his knees in “Some of Us.”

And when they go goblin mode, they really lean in: “Mr. Charm” is a demented soul-rock rave-up about how boring money is — OK, Mick — in which Jagger drops a diss of the “mad mogul Mr. Musk” into a verse laying out the delights of staying home and doing anagrams.

In “Divine Intervention,” Jagger offers a colorful travelogue of trips through New York and Los Angeles — “I kept moving on to Silver Lake / To play guitar with a brand new friend of mine” — while Richards and Wood get their guitars slip-sliding all over the place. “Jealous Lover” is gorgeously trashy: a horny little strut that sounds like “Dirty Mind”-era Prince doing “Waiting on a Friend.” (Legitimately loony Mick vocal here.)

For God knows what reason, the Stones offer up a faithful rendition of Amy Winehouse’s “You Know I’m No Good” with Jagger on harmonica. And the album ends with a very ragged take on Chuck Berry’s “Beautiful Delilah,” obviously meant to remind you of how the two lifers at the core of the Stones came together more than half a century ago.

The memory is ancient; the thrill, somehow, is alive.

A POPULAR 90s band have cancelled their entire UK tour following the tragic death of one of their band members.

Sixpence None the Richer were due to head out on the road later this year but the concerts have now been pulled following the death of bassist Justin Cary last month.

They confirmed online that they had decided to take some time out to “grieve” following the saddening news and and as such would not continue with their current touring plans.

The band said in a post online: “We are completely heartbroken over the tragic and untimely loss of our bandmate, brother-in-arms, and friend for 30 years, Justin Cary.

“The past three years had been full of international tours, recording new music, and an even further deepening of the joy of making music together.

“We were looking forward to connecting with new and old fans around the world this summer and fall, but for now we need time to be still and grieve.

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“With heavy hearts, we are canceling all remaining tour dates for 2026.”

Heartbroken by the loss, the band added: “Hundreds of pictures. Thousands of memories, 30 years worth. Thank you, Justin.

“There’ll never be another you, sir. No one could pack a suitcase better or make us laugh harder.

“We don’t know what is ahead, we never do, really. But for now, we must grieve our brother.

“Prayers are welcome for us all, especially his beautiful wife, Linda. We love you all so much and will see you again.”

They had been due to perform dates across the UK in late September and beginning of October of this year.

The performer died at the age of 50 after suffering a stroke on the 18th of June.

The Kiss Me musician had been receiving treatment at Albany Medical Center in New York.

He underwent two surgeries following the stroke and was placed in intensive care.

Sixpence None The Richer got its start in 1992.

Justin joined the lineup five years later, the same year the band dropped its self-titled album, home to the breakout single Kiss Me.

The smash-hit song climbed all the way to No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100.

Kiss Me landed a Grammy nomination for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocals in 2000.

A MAJOR US band has cancelled all of their UK tour dates including a massive headline festival appearance. 

The popular nineties group pulled out of their tour just hours before their first UK show due to “medical issues”, leaving fans devastated. 

The American punk rock band, Alkaline Trio, have revealed to fans the sad news that they are unable to continue on their UK tour. 

Frontman Matt Skiba, Dan Andriano and Tosh Peterson make up the Chicago originated group.

The trio were all set to perform last night in Birmingham but hours before the show was set to start, the band released a statement on social media.

It read: “We are immensely sorry but we must cancel our dates in England, including tonight’s show in Birmingham, due to medical issues Matt has been suffering from that have worsened.

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“He’s gonna be okay but needs to be treated stateside as soon as possible.

“We will be back healthier and stronger!

“Refunds are available at the point of purchase.”

Not only will the band miss their upcoming UK tour dates to return to the States, but they have also been forced to cancel their highly anticipated headline performance at 2000trees Festival. 

Frontman Matt went on to share a video to fans from London Heathrow Airport, expressing his gratitude for “all the love and support”.

He added: “You guys deserve a better show than I can throw right now. I got numbness in my feet, numbness in my hands as you can tell I’m losing my voice so I can’t really talk, walk, play or sing. But I’m okay.”

After the news broke fans rushed to the comments, one user said: “Sorry to hear this and get well soon.

“Have flights and accommodation booked for the Manchester gig on Wednesday as no Dublin date. Dang.”

Another added: “Gutted to hear this guys, was so looking forward to seeing you again in London tomorrow, but know this decision wouldn’t have been taken lightly. Get well soon Matt.”

“Me looking at my tickets for London and 2000trees (crying emoji) Get well soon, Matt! Wishing you a speedy recovery fam,” a third added.

“It is what it is. Just a shame cus I was literally about to leave my hotel when I saw the message,” penned a fourth.

The band, whose name derived from Matt Skiba simply flicking through a dictionary to find a cool word to stick in front of the “Trio”, was founded in 1996 and went on to sell over a million albums.

Matt is well known for serving as the co-lead vocalist and guitarist of Blink-182 from 2015 to 2022.

Alkaline Trio are best known for songs like ‘Stupid Kid’ and ‘Private eye’. 

The band shot to fame when they released their debut single ‘Sundials’, in 1997.

When the gates opened at St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino on Good Friday, the music coming from inside wasn’t that of angel-faced choristers or pipe organs; it was the collective scream of electric guitars.

As the sky darkened over the white stucco church framed in palm trees and the dry peaks of the San Bernardino Mountains, fringed teenagers made their way inside, shaking their limbs and chattering in excitement. Fluorescent lights shone overhead in a room that, by day, hosted Bible studies and food pantries — that night, it would be the site of Spinkick Dance Hall, a regular underground music series where noses are bound to bleed and limbs to flail along to ear-splitting riffs.

It’s just one of many shows taking place from Pomona to Palm Desert, heralding a Latino-led youth revival where the freewheeling movement of mosh pits meets the raw power of punk rock: Inland Empire hardcore.

Teenagers congregate in front of St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino before the start of the night’s hardcore shows on April 3, 2026.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

As the fast-paced and anti-establishment genre known as punk went mainstream in the ’80s, a harder and more unhinged variant emerged in the States; bands like Bad Brains, Minor Threat and Black Flag pushed the limits of vocalization and instrumentation into dissonant new sounds that would make up the subgenre known as hardcore punk.

“As a teenager pre-social media, the music scene was the release for teen angst,” said music photojournalist Zach Cordner. “It was a convergence of nationwide bands that would come to play at [the now shuttered Riverside venue] Showcase Theater, and through word of mouth people got inspired to make cassettes and zines.”

Cordner and his friend Ken Crawford grew up in Riverside in the ’80s and ’90s, photographing the initial wave of hardcore punk taking shape in the Inland Empire. They turned these photographs into a sprawling exhibition held at the Riverside Art Museum earlier this year, “60 Miles East.”

“The scene looks a lot different today than it did in the ’90s,” Crawford said. “It’s browner, it’s queer, and that’s a good thing, to see how it’s become way more diverse.”

Inside the church, the frontman of all-Latino hardcore band Barrio Slam emitted rough growls as the crowd broke into a bustling mosh pit. Teenagers did pinwheel kicks, wrapped Mexican flags over their shoulders and filled the air with chants of “F— ICE.”

Lead vocalist Victor Campos’ family moved from Guadalajara, Mexico, to Pomona, where he says he discovered hardcore through friends. Then, at age 14, Campos attended his first rock show.

“That was the first time that I saw hardcore and metal and the heavier side of music for what it was, and the violence and culture of the shows just sucked me in and I’ve been in it ever since,” Campos said. “It felt like freedom.”

Angela, 19, was in the mosh pit during Load Tha Nine’s performance when she was accidentally struck in the nose by another concertgoer on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. Hardcore shows are characterized by intense music and rough dancing where bloody accidents are not an uncommon sight.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

Jose Ruelas and his Barrio Slam bandmates headbang as they perform on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

Campos credits local Latino-led bands like Xibalba and Harsh Reality as inspirations to dive into making music and embrace his identity in the genre.

“In the I.E., it’s really the norm. We’re singing in Spanish, we’re proud. But when we tour, we see it’s not like that everywhere,” Campos said. “Some people still consider punk ‘not for us.’ My own family members will say, ‘You’re listening to white people music.’”

The show at St. John’s is just the tip of the Inland Empire’s DIY venue iceberg. Living rooms, restaurant dining rooms, tattoo shops and record stores have transformed into hardcore venues across the region as established locales closed down.

San Bernardino four-piece “beatdown” group Big Ass Truck is one band that found success beyond the I.E. scene. They signed to Nuclear Blast Records, and at the time of our interview, they had just returned from a tour of Europe.

“With the I.E. especially, we lose a venue like every week. If we have a venue, it’s not staying around for long. I’ve personally seen like three or four venues [in the last few years] just call it,” said Big Ass Truck vocalist Abel Abarca. “So we do get scrappy, and I think that’s what sets the I.E. apart from places like L.A. and O.C.”

San Bernardino hardcore band Big Ass Truck performs a surprise concert at Creator Fest on May 2, 2026, at Creator Tattoo in Pomona.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

Izzy Leyva, 17, describes being met with an immediate “sense of welcoming” at her first DIY hardcore show.

“It’s nice finding people my age to talk about life with. You can start conversations so easily,” Leyva said. “Especially after moshing with someone in the crowd. If you’re struggling to make friends in school, you’ll be able to find someone here.”

She enters the mosh pit fearlessly, dodging flailing arms to two-step — a synchronized dance move that requires punching and running in place — unleashing her energy in the punk sanctum.

“I never feel like an outsider here,” Leyva added.

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1. Mauricio Rivera performs with his band Barrio Slam on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times) 2. Toni Feliz shows her “IE” tattoo, a nod to her hometown, at Creator Fest on May 2, 2026, at Creator Tattoo in Pomona. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times) 3. Izzy Levya, 17, two-steps during Marked for Death’s performance on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times) 4. Fans dance and “two-step” during Barrio Slam’s performance on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times) 5. Andres Rodriguez, 18, moshes during Marked for Death’s performance on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

As 25-year-old Guatemalan American vocalist Jorge Cruz entered the show, he embraced his friends and bandmates. Cruz, who fronts the voracious hardcore band KnuckleSandwich, says he sees TikTok as a major platform for hardcore fans to find one another.

“I saw shows online and was hooked … I used to be so nervous to be in the mosh pit, I’d throw up outside. But when I got in there for the first time, I feel like it changed me into someone who was more comfortable in myself,” Cruz said. “It was like a baptism.”

His music, ranging from songs like “Melting ICE” and corrido-hardcore fusion “El Corrido del Maton,” is inspired by his immigrant household upbringing and interest in Chicano studies.

“Especially with this growing anti-intellectualism going on, and conservatives in our government, writing about Chicano identity and the issues in America feels important,” Cruz said. “There’s no one out there to speak up for us than us.”

A day after attending the show, Garrett Boyer and Kenny Sylvia, longtime friends with nearly matching tattoo sleeves and baseball caps, stood talking in Creator Tattoo Parlor in Pomona.

The pair helps to run Division One, a local booking company that books anywhere from Corona storefront DBZ Books N’ Records to their very own tattoo parlor.

A few weeks prior, Boyer got a call from his sister: His niece was diagnosed with an aggressive childhood cancer called neuroblastoma that had spread through her body, causing his sister to tackle insurance and medical costs. Boyer said he reached out to the hardcore community for help and was “overwhelmed” by the response.

“The community really, really, really came together. A lot of people reached out and really quickly we threw this benefit show that raised thousands of dollars,” Boyer said. “That’s the core of what hardcore music should be and is. It’s community.”

A few months before that, they had united with local bands to throw a benefit show, raising money for immigrant coalition groups after increased ICE raids.

“We thought, ‘How could we not help?’ I’m second generation from El Paso. So many of my neighbors and even my partner’s family were directly affected,” Boyer said. “So many shows are not just about music but they can [impact] people’s lives.”

Brett Rock, bassist of San Bernardino hardcore band Big Ass Truck, performs during Creator Fest on May 2, 2026, at Creator Tattoo in Pomona.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

In Creator’s graffitied back lot area on May 2, bands Load Tha Nine, ’92 and Auditory Anguish opened up a DIY festival called Creator Fest, where 22-year-old Cynthia Garcia came out to “let off steam.”

Garcia, who fronts local band Exutoire, said discovering the local alternative scene “changed everything.”

“In high school, it was very much like nothing was happening. We’re all bored. We’re all depressed. We’re writing, and finally, we get to put the writing to use,” Garcia said. “We meet people that are like-minded and trying to get out of that boredom, and then [the music scene] just exploded.”

At Garcia’s shows, she says she constantly meets concertgoers from L.A., or even from San Diego, who drive hours into the I.E. to be part of its blossoming scene.

At Creator Fest, Abarca commanded the stage, building up the energy of the crowd until hair whipped in frenzies. Abarca says he sees I.E. hardcore continuing to evolve, fusing new genres and making the Inland Empire a place to watch as alternative music booms in the “scrappy” venues of San Bernardino, Corona, Pomona and Riverside.

“Latinos in the Inland Empire have always been hardcore,” Abarca said. “People just know it now because we make them hear us.”

A LITTLE-known band were left totally gobsmacked after a rock legend turned up in the audience at one of their shows.

The Rolling Stones cover band were playing to a small crowd in a bar when the iconic musician revealed himself as a fan, dancing alone in the bar.

The mystery figure was none other than Noughties nu-metal megastar Fred Durst, frontman of Limp Bizkit.

Fellow punters couldn’t believe their eyes and quickly pulled out their phones to capture the surreal moment as the Rollin’ singer rocked out to their set.

Musician Jenny Teator, who was singing on stage shared the clip on TikTok, writing: “This was unexpected. Get it, Fredddd!! We had so much fun at @GRAYSonMAIN.”

The unlikely scene unfolded at Grays on Main, a bustling music venue and dining room in downtown Franklin, Tennessee – the town Fred now calls home.

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The star looked almost unrecognisable with a full white beard, although he still sported the signature baseball cap fans will remember from the band’s heyday.

Other diners appeared oblivious to the famous face in their midst, continuing with their meals unaware they were in the company of rock royalty.

One viewer commented: “The people sitting there eating, completely unbothered that Fred Durst is getting down right beside them, is killllling me!”

Fred and Limp Bizkit were one of the biggest bands of the late Nineties and early Noughties, with hits including Break Stuff, My Way and Rollin’.

Their album Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavoured Water debuted at number one on the Billboard 200 and sold over one million copies in its first week.

The singer was also linked to a string of high-profile romances, including rumoured relationships with pop stars Christina Aguilera, Britney Spears and Avril Lavigne. He has been married four times and has two children.

Despite stepping out of the spotlight in recent years, Fred, now 55, continues to record and perform with Limp Bizkit.

Limp Bizkit’s last official UK tour was last year, with the band appearing at the Reading and Leeds festivals.

Besides continuing to tour and perform with the band, Fred has made his mark as a film director with movies like The Education of Charlie Banks and The Longshots.

He also directed the film The Franatic in 2019 which starred John Travolta.

Walter Parazaider, the saxophonist and co-founder of the rock group Chicago, has died. He was 81.

Parazaider died June 17 of complications from Alzheimers disease. In a statement posted to social media on Wednesday, the band said that “Chicago is heartbroken at the sad news of Walter Parazaider’s passing this morning. We extend our deepest condolences to his family, friends and countless Chicago fans who are all grieving his loss today.”

His daughter, Felicia Helen Parazaider, also posted on Facebook that “I love you poppy, my Pal…You coloured our world.”

Born in Maywood, Ill., Parazaider began his music career as a clarinetist, before founding Chicago with childhood friends in the group’s namesake city. The band’s pop hits like “25 or 6 to 4” and “Saturday in the Park” were staples of the ‘70s and remain beloved fixtures of classic rock. His diverse woodwind skills helped give the band its regal sound, adding saxophone riffs to hits like “Just You ‘n’ Me” and a poignant flute solo on “Colour My World.”

While Chicago’s lineup changed often, Parazaider remained with the group until retiring in 2018. In April of 2021, Parazaider wrote in a statement on Chicago’s website that “I was diagnosed with Alzheimers disease. Needless to say, my wife, daughters and myself were shocked and devastated. It has taken awhile to process this news and the fact is, we still are. The good news is we have a wonderful medical facility here and I have a very good doctor. I am working hard and not going to give up.”

Chicago gave credit to Parazaider for conceiving of the band’s distinct instrumentation, and the work ethic that made them stars. “A Rock & Roll band with horns was Walt’s idea,” Chicago’s statement continued. “He put the band together and they rehearsed in the basement of his mother’s home. He is also the one who did the hard work to book shows for the young, unknown band, performing top 40 covers at local bars in and around Chicago.

“We are forever grateful for his contribution,” they continued. “Perhaps his greatest gift was bringing people together. This amazing music may have never been heard had it not been for Walt’s vision.”

Parazaider is survived by wife JacLynn and daughters Laura and Felicia.

There was a time in the beginning of Sublime’s recent revival when Jakob Nowell, the son of the band’s late singer Bradley Nowell, saw himself simply as a good son trying to help his adoptive uncles — drummer Bud Gaugh and bassist Eric Wilson — restart his dad’s iconic Long Beach trio. The goal wasn’t to take the place of his frontman father who died of an overdose in 1996. “I’ll never look at it as my band. Sublime is my dad’s band, and I’m helping out, that’s all,” he told The Times in 2024. Luckily, he was wrong.

The journey of finding his own voice through his father’s sly, shambolic poetry and reggae rock anthems, along with his determination on the road with Gaugh and Wilson through a barrage of festivals and tour dates helped him eventually step into his own as a songwriter and Gen Z rock star. It’s all been done with the mission to preserving his dad’s legacy and having fun while doing it. Now it feels as natural as the trio sitting together on the waterfront in LBC’s shoreline marina within earshot of the bellowing horn of the Queen Mary earlier this year as they were finishing the recording of “Until the Sun Explodes,” the first album under the Sublime moniker in 30 years.

Just like the band’s original recipe of shoving punk, dub reggae, hip-hop and ska into a blender, the new songs dutifully stick to the formula along with Jakob’s soulful caterwauls that sound scarily similar to his dad. But what emerges from the 21-song tracklist is the evolution of a trademark sound that gives a nod to the past while standing strong on its own, just like Jakob, despite coming to the interview on crutches while healing from a performance-related knee injury. The band members chatted with The Times about recapturing the effortless essence of their immortal beach-ready sound and looking forward to a second chance to chase an endless summer.

This interview was edited for length and clarity

It’s kind of a rare thing for all three of you guys to be in one place at the same time. What was it like working in the studio together to finish the new album?

Bud Gaugh: Magical. Things are just coming together. We showed up, Jake had an idea for another song, and he sent us a little demo and said “Hey, this is what I’ve been thinking about.” And then we get down to the studio [in San Pedro], and he’s like, “Oh yeah, so I had another idea,” and kind of changed it. We jumped in there [and by the end of our sessions, we had written] brand new songs to the list of songs that we already had.

The band’s revival has been a long time in the making. I remember when you guys had your first show together, a surprise gig a couple years ago as part of a benefit show for the Bad Brains frontman H.R. Do you feel you’ve come a long way since then?

Eric Wilson: I never thought the chemistry would be like it was with Bradley.

Jakob Nowell: Especially now that we’ve been playing together this long, the chemistry is very much there. We’re just comfortable and having fun. Jamming together is the best. We get in there to do a take for a song, and I’m always like “Let’s just do like three more!” It’s just that much fun, and that’s how it feels playing live too.

When did the idea for creating a new album come about?

Gaugh: It was pretty much just while we were playing shows, At first, the idea was that we were getting together to do this benefit for H.R. [at Teragram Ballroom in December 2023]. We went from “How’s this going to work?” and then [after the show] it was like, “Wow, this is something special. We should definitely go out and play some more shows, and get this music out there and get the opportunity to bring the music to the people in the purest form that we possibly could.” As we’re doing that, it’s like we’re seeing the reaction in the fans, and we were feeling it emotionally. We realized this is going to be bigger than we ever thought. That’s when we really decided where it was going to go.

Jakob Nowell, right, once thought Sublime was only his late father’s band; now, fronting the Long Beach trio, he’s leading a new chapter that still honors Bradley Nowell’s legacy.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Were any of the songs on the new album mined from previously unreleased material or did you start fresh?

Nowell: There was that song we did with Stick Figure [“Feel Like That”], so I think that kind of inspired us. [We realized] “Oh s—, there really is some meat on the bone.” And then I had found some old recordings of stuff that were just like jams without even like vocals or whatever. Then it became just this thing during sound check or maybe in the middle of sets, we’d just start jamming these random progressions and stuff, and it kind of just evolved from there naturally.

The new songs that I’ve heard fit right in the vein of what people love about Sublime. What was it like putting some of those new songs in the setlist as you were building them?

Nowell: It was like magic. We were joking yesterday that sometimes we’ll play a new song for the first time just randomly and I’d see people try mouthing the lyrics and stuff and I’ll say “you’ve never even heard this before! I know you haven’t. We don’t even really know what the hell we’re saying.”

Gaugh: You frontin’! [Laughs]

Nowell: But [the new material] sounded like it was supposed to be there, so it was kind of a rad little test in a lot of ways. We almost don’t even have to think about it. That’s always going to be the guiding goal of any band trying to make fun music that’s relatable.

Wilson: What if you’re Slayer? That’s not true if you’re Slayer.

Jakob, it seems like you’ve gotten a lot more comfortable in the frontman role since joining the band. What’s it like just taking the lead, not just for the sake of your dad, but for the fans?

Nowell: Oh, dude, it’s the best. I don’t even have to think about it. We really feel like this is — we’re a band, you know?

Gaugh: It’s [Jakob’s] band too. Now it’s our band. It’s us.

Nowell: It feels like that whenever we’re hanging out, just doing stuff, or at the studio or at these shows. So, this upcoming year feels like a really rad adventure. We got all these different eras [of fans] — people who were in their 50s when [Sublime’s] first stuff dropped, who are still alive, and then their kids and their grandkids and great grandkids. Everybody finds a piece of the discography they can relate to. That’s what is most exciting. It’s not just one or two songs, people sing along to everything.

I was at Warped Tour in Long Beach last year when you guys played and —

Nowell: That was my favorite set!

To me that felt like it encapsulated what you were talking about with the multigenerational groups of fans that have enjoyed you guys and associate you with Long Beach.

Gaugh: It was like a homecoming for me. I remembered playing the Chili Cook off, you know, right over there in the same area [as Warped Tour], and it was just bringing me back 30 years. It’s so meaningful to be in our backyard playing our music again, right there. This is where it all started. It’s come full circle.

Nowell: It was like playing at a local bar in a cool way. I had this huge group of people up front, they were just talking and shouting and saying stuff, like f–ing with us and joking around. I was like “Damn this is great!”

How about you, Eric? How’d you feel playing Warped?

Wilson: [Mumbles] It was f–ing awesome.

Now that you’ve played all these festival shows, from Coachella to No Values, you’ve got your own festival going on. Can you talk a little bit about Sublime Fest and your Sublime Reef Madness Cruise and how you came up with it?

Nowell: We could put on a bunch of the bands we love, and some of our boys, like Vandals, and make it our own vibe.

Gaugh: You walk around Coachella and there’s so many different elements there. Wouldn’t it be neat if we could make like all this like a Long Beach element, a Sublime element. Looking at this thing, it’s like “Oh wow. So we can actually get some of our friends and set up like a tattoo booth, and have our idea of art and everything out there, and mix it all together — food, art, music — bringing all these different elements, and friends of ours that play music. We get to decide who’s going to share the stage with us, so it’s really neat. It’s like planning a high school party or something like that.

Nowell: The biggest backyard party ever seen.

You guys always had your own sound going on, what’s it like to see that the fans still want it?

Wilson: It took a lotta years to catch on, but it did.

Nowell: Yeah, the kids really want that, like ‘90s, Y2K kind of vibe. That was the last era of like cool authenticity and stuff. You can see it when young people make stuff to look retro … when things get so high fidelity, we’re almost losing a little element, so I think these festivals kind of seek to bring some of that back in a way that everybody can get into.

With “Until the Sun Explodes,” Sublime’s first album in three decades, Jakob Nowell, Bud Gaugh and Eric Wilson rediscover their studio chemistry, jamming new songs that feel instantly familiar onstage.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

You guys also have the timeless iconography of the Sublime sun logo. The title of the album is “Until the Sun Explodes.” Does that title have any particular meaning to you?

Nowell: It’s almost just another way of saying “forever,” like “Oh baby I’m gonna love you till the sun blows up.” That’s gonna happen in billions of years, if at all. The fact that [Sublime’s] lasted this long and has this many fans is evidence to me that we wanna be here forever. I think that’s what everybody wants for themselves.

Jake, you’ve taken steps to advance your own aspirations and music with your label, Sunburnt Records, how does that fit into where Sublime is right now?

I was inspired by the whole Skunk Records thing [Sublime’s first label], Evan Zinger with [his lifestyle brand] SRH, and just all the local brands I grew up with when I was a kid. So just trying to do a cool, chill local thing that has that vibe of putting on small shows and kind of getting to use this new notoriety to be like, man, I have so many friends in these small bands like Strange Case and Eight Ball, and other bands up and down Southern California. Let’s put on shows and sneak them on a Sunburnt Stage at [Sublime Fest] and if people really like that Sublime sound here’s a bunch of kids who are carrying the torch like Slightly Stoopid did when they started out. Mike Watt always said “start your own band!” So the more we can inspire people to do that and be some small part of that, it’s a dream come true.

Do you feel like this version of Sublime is something Brad would be proud of?

Gaugh: We all kind of brought our own element to the music orignally. So we just kind of followed that recipe. Jake’s his own person, he’s got his own influences, and we just kind of stick with that idea. Jake brings in his feelings, and Eric brings in his and we sat there and recorded this song, and then as we were recording it, we’re coming up with ideas. It’s like, “Oh wait, we should do this here, slow that down there, stop here,” it’s all a conglomeration of ideas, everyone does their part, brings in their own spices and we mix it in a pot like gumbo.

An HBO miniseries has been hailed as the ‘best of the best’ by fans, who say no show or film compares – and it’s streaming on Amazon Prime and NOW

TV fans have lauded a gripping war drama, calling it “the best of the best” and insisting no other show or film matches it. The series proves perfect for admirers of the popular 2001 American war drama miniseries, Band of Brothers.

So, what’s the show? It’s the seven-part television miniseries Generation Kill, which was produced by HBO and originally broadcast from July 13 to August 24 2008.

It was adapted from Evan Wright’s 2004 book sharing of the same name, which documented his experiences as an embedded reporter accompanying the US Marine Corps’ 1st Reconnaissance Battalion throughout the 2003 invasion of Iraq.

The extensive ensemble cast includes Alexander Skarsgård, Jon Huertas, James Ransone, Lee Tergesen – playing Wright, though characters only address him using nicknames – alongside many others.

The series earned recognition for its authenticity and emphasis on the bizarre circumstances facing Marines navigating prolonged boredom and volatile combat while dealing with questionable administrative decisions from senior command.

These often incompetent decisions – coupled with inadequate communication – result in troops experiencing frustration and confusion, while simultaneously managing constant equipment shortages.

The miniseries additionally captures the camaraderie among Marines and the gallows humour they employed as a survival strategy during such challenging, intense and unpredictable circumstances.

Generation Kill was created by The Wire’s David Simon and Ed Burns and is renowned for its unflinching use of authentic military terminology, while depicting the Marines as genuine, imperfect people rather than the steadfastly patriotic heroes typically portrayed in war films.

Though it originally broadcast on HBO in 2008, the miniseries is now accessible to stream on platforms such as NOW and Amazon Prime, although subscription add-ons are necessary to view through Prime.

Generation Kill continues to receive regular praise from TV fans and holds an impressive 86% rating on popular review-aggregation site Rotten Tomatoes.

One viewer said: “Right up there with Band of Brothers, Peaky Blinders, and The Pacific. The best of the best. First watched this over 12 years ago when it was new, and it’s still the greatest to this day.”

Another agreed: “It’s Band of Brothers during the 2003 Iraq invasion. Great writing and remarkable acting make this one a must watch TV show.”

A third wrote: “The action is a little over-the-top, but the characters, the dialogue and the attitudes all pretty perfectly capture 21st century military life. This is one of HBO’s truly great pieces of art.”

While a fourth said: “The more you watch it, the better it gets. It’s difficult for me to put into words, but to this day I still have not watched any show or even movie as good as this.”

Another shared: “One of my favourite HBO offerings!”

Generation Kill is streaming on Amazon Prime and NOW.

Earth Wind & Fire’s “September,” with its nonsensical phrase “ba-dee-ya,” has been streamed more than 2.3 billion times on Spotify, more than the band’s next five songs combined (including “Let’s Groove,” “Boogie Wonderland” and “Shining Star”).

In his visually and sonically vibrant film “Earth, Wind & Fire (To Be Celestial vs. That’s the Weight of the World),” drummer, DJ and director Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson (“Summer of Soul”) shows how the funky but aspirational band was much more than its biggest hit musically.

But he also explores, in depth, the complexities of the band’s central figure, Maurice White. A self-affirming visionary who wanted to bring hope to people, White mixed journaling with talk of spaceships and metaphysics. However, he was also traumatized by a childhood in which his mother moved to Chicago for more opportunities, leaving White in Memphis, where he was once brutally beaten by white policemen. Those scars created a man who was a distant father and equally remote with his band members at the peak, mistreating them with casual disdain until everything fell apart.

Questlove recently spoke by video call about the film, now streaming on HBO Max, which features interviews with family, surviving band members, childhood friend Booker T. Jones and a couple of fans named Barack and Michelle Obama. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

What drew you to this story?

In 2020, I was DJing on the internet, live streaming and I was DJing to calm people down from thinking they’re going to die in the apocalypse. One day I did an Earth, Wind & Fire set and when I got to the fourth hour, I thought, “Yo, is this one of the most relentlessly positive groups of all time?”

I started researching the lyrics and realized this band tricked us into positivity, like getting us to eat our vegetables. I started wondering how a band like that got past the velvet rope and realized that none of it was by accident, it was all by design. Their music was so good and you start singing the lyrics and there’s an osmosis effect of positivity that gets you.

When I started this in 2023, I had a spooky feeling that the turmoil of 2020 was going to visit us again, so I thought people would want something to watch that will help them plant seeds of what to do.

Maurice White, the band’s central figure.

(Henry Diltz / HBO)

You save “September” to the end. Was it so people would see the band was more than their biggest hit or to send audiences off humming and happy?

It’s an unlikely legacy song. They have so many meaningful songs like “Shining Star,” while “September” is a leftover that was a filler song from a greatest hits album that became a career-defining song.

Initially, I was coming out the gate with “September,” just, “Let’s get this out the way.”

It took a while. Early on the Obamas weren’t part of the project. I interviewed them the morning after the 2024 elections; they were so professional and so in the moment and also helped us process the day.

We’d never gotten to see them sit next to each other and be playful and dance. And I didn’t say, “OK, let’s see how you move, dance for 12 seconds,” I was just playing something and they started dancing and the camera happened to be running.

But they put the song in context. In 2009, they said, “What’s the statement we want to make to America to show this is a new era at the White House?” And Earth, Wind & Fire was chosen to be one of the bands at the inauguration and it was that song. So my producer said, “Now we can treat ‘September’ like an encore.” We used that story to show how that song grew on its own organically.

White is a complicated guy. Was it challenging to balance everything in your narrative?

Oftentimes Black artists are seen as caricatures or one-dimensional. It’s easy to do the gotcha of “You’re so positive and metaphysical, what about this or that?” My goal is always to find a human element that you see yourself in. In Maurice’s case with his career, he did drink the Kool-Aid. But his personal life stemmed from not ever forgiving his mother for leaving him behind when he was little. When we hold anger and other emotions in, when we refuse to talk to our partners or friends — and you want people to read your minds — that’s when it becomes a problem. But I wanted to show that in a way where I don’t spell it all out. Hopefully people will make the connection of the importance of dreaming and planning and affirmations but also the importance of letting things go, like forgiving people.

Very few have heard of the ‘phenomenal’ World War II drama on Netflix, as viewers call the powerful and engrossing series an ‘exceptional masterpiece’ that’s a ‘must watch’.

For years, the television drama Band of Brothers has been establishing the standard for war-themed dramas.

Crafted by Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg, the series is widely regarded as the gold standard of its genre, having elevated expectations considerably when it comes to war epics.

Now, another war drama is being lauded as a ‘phenomenal masterpiece’ – and it might well eclipse Band of Brothers.

Available on Netflix, the relatively obscure war drama limited series comprises three episodes running approximately an hour each, and acclaim for the programme has been widespread.

War Sailor, originally titled Krigsseileren, is a Norwegian war drama that was selected as Norway’s official submission for Best International Feature at the 95th Academy Awards – and audiences cannot stop praising it, reports Wales Online.

It first premiered as a film in late 2022, and when it eventually arrived on Netflix in April 2023, it emerged as a three-part miniseries with 30 minutes incorporated into its original running time.

Written and helmed by Gunnar Vikene, it happens to be the most costly Norwegian film ever produced, created on a budget of $11.1m.

The drama features Kristoffer Joner and Pål Sverre Hagen in leading roles, alongside Ine Marie Wilmann, Henrikke Lund Olsen, Armand Hannestad, and Leon Tobias Slettbakk.

The war drama draws from the genuine, real-life experiences of 30,000 Norwegian civilian sailors who participated in Allied convoys during the Second World War.

The war drama’s official synopsis reads: “Merchant sailors are caught in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean during Germany’s invasion of Norway and hijacked into working for the Allied war effort.”

Boasting an impressive 92% audience approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes, War Sailor has been hailed as “heart-in-your-throat moving” by viewers.

An IMDB user review of the war drama says: “One of the best war movies I’ve seen. I thought I’d seen so many war and catastrophe movies I’d become numb to the emotional drama and could only be stimulated by history lessons and battlefield action but this one gripped me.”

While another viewer said of the series: “Intense but phenomenal. It’s difficult to sum up the experience of watching this film. It weaves suspense, devastation, love, hope, and the horrors of war together into a picture that will stay with me for a long time to come.”

Another audience review added: “Brilliantly written, directed and acted, this is a gripping, at times excruciating, film. The characters are beautifully, painfully individual, the story unexpected and painfully convincing. It takes us inside the actions of war but the unforgettable moments are the still ones in which nothing happens but meaning.”

While one viewer crowned it “a masterpiece”: “Wow – what an intense film. Excellent acting and period sets. A masterpiece.”

Yet another audience review said: “A sweeping epic. Structured like a sweeping epic, Krigsseileren tells about the efforts of Norwegian commercial sailors in the Atlantic theatre during WWII. A combination of authenticity, technical brilliance, and a clear artistic framework makes this into an all-encompassing viewing experience.”

While one fan described the drama as something that “transcends the ordinary”: “Something Extraordinary Finds its Way to Our Screens. Just when we thought nothing of quality is left, nothing worth our time, what we have left of it, War Sailor shows up on Netflix.

“As real a depiction of events which shaped our world as you are likely to see. Transportation to another place and time at a historic moment in history, for the price of your Netflix subscription. Empowering performances that transcend the ordinary. Highly recommended.”

Critics have branded the war drama “powerful and engrossing”, with one reviewer writing: “War Sailor is the best kind of war movie: a character drama that happens amidst war, focusing most on how the characters are changed by the atrocities over the years.”

Another critic said: “War Sailor offers some of the best ensemble acting seen in recent years. It’s been perfectly cast down to the smallest role.”

War Sailor is available to stream on Netflix.

Ben Gibbard remembers late 2023 as a time of competing realities.

Onstage, the frontman of Death Cab for Cutie and the Postal Service was thriving as his two bands toured together to mark the 20th anniversaries of Death Cab’s “Transatlanticism” and the Postal Service’s “Give Up.”

Behind the scenes, Gibbard’s personal life was in shambles.

“I was getting off phone calls — very difficult phone calls — 20 minutes before going on in an arena,” he says. The singer and his wife, photographer Rachel Demy, were in the middle of an agonizing breakup that would eventually lead to divorce. Yet audiences in the thousands were turning up nightly to see Gibbard reanimate the peak-millennial classics that made him one of indie rock’s defining stars.

“I’d just tell myself, You’re a professional — you’re gonna go out there and do it, and no one’s gonna know,” he recalls. “It was all waiting for me when I got offstage, of course. But for two hours I was able to disconnect and be a performer, which was incredibly …” Gibbard, 49, trails off into a laugh.

“I don’t know if it was healthy,” he says. “But it was helpful.”

Two and a half years later, that split-screen experience — “this idea of how we compartmentalize our pain or our grief or our trauma,” as Gibbard puts it now — forms a through line of Death Cab’s ruminative new album, “I Built You a Tower.” Due Friday from Anti Records, where the group landed after leaving its longtime home of Atlantic amid a corporate shake-up, the LP sets thoughts of broken fences and never-ending storms against tuneful arrangements that can churn, shimmer or chime.

“I pledge myself to your misery / I kneel at its throne,” Gibbard sings in his still-boyish tenor over the sleek new wave groove of “Trap Door,” “Respecting your proclivity / To languish on your own.” In the fuzzed-out “Envy the Birds,” the frontman recounts an argument between two lovers “spraying bullets of grievances”; the driving “Riptides” is narrated by a guy “too tired to end the war.”

“This record is definitely the result of a divorce,” Gibbard says plainly during a recent visit to Los Angeles from his home in Seattle. “But I didn’t want to make a score-settling record or an angry record. This wasn’t an opportunity to defame someone or make this about how I’d been wronged. People drift apart — relationships don’t work. And I think how that’s affected me at almost 50 is a very different mindset than I found myself in when I was 33 or whatever the last time it happened.”

Gibbard means his first divorce, in 2012, from the actor and singer Zooey Deschanel — a split that inspired Death Cab’s 2015 album “Kintsugi,” on which one song asks, “Was I in your way when the cameras turned to face you?” and another chides an unnamed celebrity: “You’ll never have to hear the word ‘no’ if you keep all your friends on the payroll.”

“There’s some gnarly stuff on that record,” says Gibbard, who’d moved to L.A. to be with Deschanel then promptly left as soon as their marriage collapsed. “It’s not exactly a kind album.”

Bassist Nick Harmer, who formed Death Cab with Gibbard in the late ’90s after the two met as students at Western Washington University, agrees that “I Built You a Tower” represents a shift in perspective. “There’s so much more self-examination — and so much more self-indictment,” he says. (Death Cab’s other members are drummer Jason McGerr, guitarist Dave Depper and keyboardist Zac Rae.)

Which isn’t to say that Gibbard entirely resists placing blame. In “Trap Door” he sings about “a trap door in your heart and a button on your desk well-worn from being pressed.”

The frontman says that in recent years he’d “tried to get away from using the word ‘heart’ because that had been a touchstone for so many of our early records.” Yet this line seemed worth holding onto when it came to him.

“I Googled it to see: Did I already write this?” he says, laughing. “Or is there a very popular song called ‘There’s a Trap Door in Your Heart,’ and now I’m just rewriting it? We’ve made a lot of songs at this point — you gotta check your work.”

Indeed, “I Built You a Tower” is Death Cab’s 11th studio LP. After the band’s previous album, 2022’s “Asphalt Meadows,” fulfilled its deal with Atlantic, Death Cab reupped with the major label for one more record, Gibbard says, based on its strong relationship with the company’s then-CEO, Julie Greenwald.

“Julie was our shepherd and our protector the whole time we were there,” the singer says of Death Cab’s nearly two-decade run at Atlantic, which began with 2005’s Grammy-nominated “Plans.” Yet just days after they reached an agreement for “Tower,” Greenwald was fired and replaced by a new leader, Elliot Grainge, about whom the band felt less than optimistic.

Ben Gibbard

(Cielito Mercado Vivas / For The Times)

“We weren’t given the impression that Elliot had spent a lot of time with ‘Transatlanticism’ in college,” Gibbard says of the 32-year-old exec, who made his name signing rappers like Ice Spice and Trippie Redd. With Greenwald’s help, Gibbard says, Death Cab negotiated an exit from Atlantic with ownership of the new album.

Did Grainge try to persuade the band to stay?

“Never heard a word,” Gibbard says.

In an email, Grainge (whose father is Universal Music Group Chairman and Chief Executive Lucian Grange) said that Death Cab’s music “has meant a great deal” to him.

“Working together may not have been in the cards for us; however, that does not lessen my enthusiasm for the band,” he wrote. “They have delivered an impressive body of work over their decades-long career, and I am looking forward to their new music.”

Death Cab’s Harmer says he and his bandmates “talked for half a beat” about putting out “Tower” on their own before thinking better of the idea.

“We’re not businesspeople,” Gibbard says. “Music is the only thing we know how to do.”

At a friend’s wedding in 2024, the frontman had been seated next to the musician Allison Crutchfield, who was then heading up Anti’s A&R department; early this year, Death Cab announced that it had signed to the indie label, whose other acts include Fleet Foxes and Madi Diaz.

This summer, the band will tour behind “I Built You a Tower,” including two shows in August at L.A.’s Greek Theatre. After the “Transatlanticism”/”Give Up” anniversary outing — not to mention a subsequent tour on which the group looked back at “Plans” — Gibbard is “very ready to play some new material,” he says.

Doing the hits was fun. “But at a certain point,” he adds, “it’s really about moving ahead.”

BUSTED star James Bourne has become centre to quite the mystery as it’s been revealed his Instagram account has disappeared.

This comes just six months after he pulled out of the band’s huge tour with a serious illness.

When fans click through to scroll his profile, it’s completely gone.

It shows a blank white page with the words, “Sorry this page isn’t available.

“The link you followed may be broken, or the page may have been removed.”

This message usually pops up when Instagram has removed the account or the account holder has deleted their page.

WHO NOSE?

I busted Jake Paul’s nose in sparring for Joshua fight and never got asked back

LEADER OF THE PECK

Strictly host Emma Willis kisses hubby Matt as pair go on shopping spree

James pulled out of the group’s tour alongside their pals McFly last September, just hours before they were due on stage.

The 42-year-old confessed he would not be tearing up the stage with the rest of his band –  Charlie Simpson and Matt Willis.

He cited the reason for pulling out as “health” problems and said he “hoped to come back further down the line”.

James said in his statement: “The VS tour kicks off tomorrow night in Birmingham and as excited as I’ve been all year for this tour to begin, I’m really sorry to say that over the last 8 days it has become clear that I am not in good enough health to play these shows.

“There’s a lot of information I still don’t have about my condition but my bandmates, management and I are unanimous in deciding that I should focus on medical stuff for now.”

None of the boys wanted to let fans down and so they decided to push ahead with a replacement on guitar.

Bassist Matt told the Birmingham crowd: “You may have noticed our best friend is not here tonight. James Bourne is really f***ing sick and we love him and we miss him.

“This is the first show we’ve ever played without him and it’s really weird but we’re going to do the best we can.

“This happened really fast, y’know, health is wealth.”

The remaining Busted stars explained to their fans that they’d asked James if they should continue and he agreed saying, “you totally should.”

Back in April James opened up to Busted fans, sharing he was having a major surgery in the hopes it would extend his life expectancy.

“Hopefully [the surgery will] make me well enough to come back to what I love the most which is touring and making music. It really sucks to be out of the game,” admitted James on his Instagram story.

The singer, who shot to fame when Busted arrived on the pop scene in 2002 with What I Go To School For, is yet to reveal what illness he is battling.

Busted confirmed their split in an emotional press conference on January 13, 2005.

However they thrilled fans when they got back together ten years later, and have been going strong ever since.

The group have continued to rack up hit after hit.

PALM SPRINGS — Barry Manilow steers a golf cart to the end of a long driveway, pulls to a stop and flings a plush toy goose across a manicured lawn to the delight of his two Labrador retrievers.

“OK, where we doing this?” the 82-year-old singer asks about our interview. Dressed in a khaki shirt and slim-fitting rust-colored trousers, he’s got the look of a man prepared to undertake some très chic brush clearance; in reality, he’s motored down here merely to answer questions about his fabulous life and career.

Manilow and his husband and longtime manager, Garry Kief, moved to this sprawling desert estate from Los Angeles in the late 1990s. “We kept coming out, and it’s so beautiful that eventually we said, ‘Screw it — let’s just stay,’” he says. By then, Manilow had long since established himself as one of music’s premier showmen, with a Grammy Award, 11 Top 10 hits and a storied 15-night run at L.A.’s Greek Theatre under his belt.

So you might’ve taken Palm Springs as a sign that he was ready to slow down. Instead, he launched a residency at the Las Vegas Hilton in 2005 that eventually surpassed the length of Elvis Presley’s show there; in 2006, he released “The Greatest Songs of the Fifties,” which went platinum and spawned a series of successful follow-up albums.

Last month, Sabrina Carpenter interpolated a bit of Manilow’s iconic “Copacabana (At the Copa)” into her headlining set at Coachella just days before he was honored by the American Advertising Federation for his work writing commercial jingles. The range of those achievements said something about his blend of music-nerd craft and pop-star razzle-dazzle.

“Barry loves music as much as anyone I’ve ever known,” says Bette Midler, who hired Manilow as her pianist for the name-making gig she played at New York’s Continental Baths in the early 1970s. Performing, Midler adds, “isn’t a job with him — it’s a vocation, a calling.”

Yet now that calling faces a threat. In December, Manilow announced that he’d been diagnosed with lung cancer and that surgery would require him to postpone a number of concert dates; five months later, he has yet to return to the stage — the longest break, COVID-19 aside, he can remember taking in decades.

Fortunately for Manilow, he has a new album, “What a Time,” with which to occupy himself. Due June 5, it consists mostly of original material — his first such LP in nearly 15 years — though it opens with a sumptuous rendition of Peter Allen and Dean Pitchford’s “Once Before I Go.” Manilow notes proudly that the song, which was produced by Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds, recently made Billboard’s adult contemporary chart, extending his run on that tally beyond the half-century mark.

Barry Manilow performs in Beverly Hills in 2025.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

Still, performing is clearly on his mind as he leads me into a tile-roofed gym equipped with weights, a treadmill and a massage table. Manilow has been working out here every morning, he says, to regain the strength needed for his show; he’s got Vegas dates on the books for July but admits he’s unsure whether they’ll happen or not. We settle into two leather club chairs, his dogs Jake and Abby at his feet.

“Please be brilliant,” he tells me. “Don’t be boring.”

What are you doing on a day you’re not working?
Working.

I see.
Since the surgery, I can’t go on the road. Ninety minutes of screaming in tune, which is what I do for a living — I’m not up for that yet. I will be, but it’s taking a long time to get my voice back. They warned me that I’d have to learn to breathe again. So these days, I get up, I go to my piano and I try to be creative. Before I know it, the afternoon’s over.

Was the diagnosis a shock?
Imagine your doctor saying, “You’ve got lung cancer.”

Fair enough.
I’ll tell you the story. I have terrible hips — bursitis and everything — and they hurt so bad that I thought maybe I broke a bone or something. So I asked my wonderful family doctor, I said, “Can you just do one of those MRIs and see?” Now, before that, I’d had two bad bouts of bronchitis, one after the next. Have you ever had bronchitis?

I have.
It stinks. So I asked him if he could check my hip, and he told the guys that were doing it, “Why don’t you check his lungs?” And I think he might have saved my life because they found a big black thing in my chest. One doctor said it was probably remnants of the bronchitis, the other doctor said it could be cancer. I voted for the bronchitis. But they went back in to see and it was a cancerous tumor.

How’d you react?
When they told me, I was on the road, and I just went back to sound check. What else could I do? I never thought cancer would get me — it wasn’t in the cards. They wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible, so we made a deal: I’d finish the couple of weeks of shows that I had, then I’d go to the hospital and they’d remove it. It was supposed to be a no-brainer — it hadn’t spread yet, thank goodness. But then my AFib kicked in and acid reflux kicked in and pneumonia kicked in. They rushed me to the ICU for seven days.

Barry Manilow with Dionne Warwick in Los Angeles in 1985.

(Paul Harris / Getty Images)

Sorry to be morbid, but were you close to death?
They said at one point — I didn’t hear them say this but I heard that they did say it — “We don’t want to lose him.” It’s all a total blur now. When they finally brought me back to my lovely room at the Eisenhower [medical center], I weighed 128 pounds.

How long you figure it had been since you weighed 128 pounds?
I don’t remember ever being 128.

You said you never thought cancer would get you. Why?
I’m too busy. Pretty stupid. What I realized is that I’ve always been the leader — leader of the band, leader of an audience — but I wasn’t the leader of this one. That was a big lesson for me. I had to rely on everybody else. Nurses, doctors, friends — you should see some of the notes people have sent.

What’s it been like to be offstage for so long?
Agony. Make an album, go on the road, come back, make an album, go on the road — that’s what my life’s been for years. And I like it. Now I just have to get better and do what the doctors are telling me. It’s the only way out.

Well, there’s one other way.
I’m not ready to croak. But I wasn’t ready to stop performing either, and it just went like that [snaps fingers]. The day before surgery, people are screaming, standing ovation, band sounds great. Next day I’m packing to go to the hospital.

Are you working with a vocal coach?
Yep. But I get winded just walking down the hallway. I turn on my old records and sing along, and three songs in I’m like [pants].

Could you do a show where you skip the uptempos? No “It’s a Miracle” or “Copacabana”?
I’m trying ballads too — my ballads end big.

Are you allowed to smoke or drink?
I stopped smoking many, many years ago. I vape but hardly — I just like holding it. I was a great smoker. Brooklyn in the ’50s? Please. I started smoking when I was 9. I got up to three packs of Pall Mall non-filters a day, and it never bothered me — never had any problem breathing. I was just a skinny piano player who smoked. That’s who I am. That’s who I was.

Before he was a skinny piano player, he was a skinny accordion player.

Manilow grew up poor in Brooklyn, the only son of a Jewish mother and an Irish father who split up right after he was born. As a kid he entertained his mom and his maternal grandparents by squeezing out the Jewish folk song “Hava Nagila”; later, his stepfather brought home records by Gerry Mulligan and Judy Garland that opened his mind to jazz and pop.

He says today that he never saw himself as a performer — he wanted to write, arrange, produce. His first success came with jingles for brands like State Farm — “Like a Good Neighbor” is his handiwork — and Band-Aid.

“My ideas were good for pop music because of the commercials,” he says. “The rules are pretty much the same — you need to grab the listener as soon as possible. For a commercial, you’ve got about five seconds. For a pop song, you’ve got 10.”

In 1971, Manilow got the job with Midler and ended up working on her million-selling debut, “The Divine Miss M,” which led to a deal of Manilow’s own with Clive Davis’ Arista Records. Despite Manilow’s insistence that he was a behind-the-scenes guy, he scored a No. 1 hit out of the box with the plaintive “Mandy,” then quickly followed that with another chart-topper, “I Write the Songs” — a pop-philosophical epic, as nobody’s tired of pointing out ever since, that Manilow didn’t actually write.

Barry Manilow at home in Palm Springs.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Bruce Johnston, who wrote “I Write the Songs” — and won a Grammy for song of the year thanks to Manilow’s recording — says the key to Manilow’s performance is that “he’s never too cool for school.” A Beach Boy for six decades until he retired from the band this year, Johnston adds that Manilow’s rendition of the song, which was also cut by Captain & Tennille and David Cassidy, “is the only one I care about, honestly. He really grabbed it — he’s just as real as he could be.”

After several more Manilow hits — “Tryin’ to Get the Feeling Again,” “Weekend in New England,” “Looks Like We Made It” — Davis asked the singer to produce a would-be comeback album by his latest Arista signing, Dionne Warwick. Warwick’s initial reaction to that idea: “Really?” she says with a laugh. “Did Barry Manilow really know anything about Dionne Warwick? As it turned out, he knew quite a bit,” adds Warwick, who recalls turning up for their first session to discover that Manilow had laid every one of her albums on his piano. “He was letting me know: I know you,” she says.

“Dionne,” the album they made together, went on to win a pair of Grammys and spun off silky hit singles including “Deja Vu” and “I’ll Never Love This Way Again” that reinvigorated Warwick’s career and helped solidify Manilow’s standing as a kind of soft-rock auteur.

Which isn’t to say that rock’s intelligentsia ever viewed him kindly. Though his best music finds an emotional truth in over-the-top theatrics, critics routinely dismissed Manilow as a lightweight or a schlockmeister; even now, he seems an unlikely candidate for the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, where he’s been eligible for induction for decades.

Manilow, who entered the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2002, insists the slights don’t bother him. “I’ve never been one of the guys,” he says. We’ve been talking for a while, and because of the bursitis, perhaps, he’s hoisted one of his legs over the arm of his chair. “I don’t think about awards and parties and stuff like that. I’m very lucky — I live in the most gorgeous place I’ve ever seen and I have the most wonderful partner that you can imagine. I’m grateful he’s chosen to share his life with me. We’ve been together for over 46 years, and we still laugh and we still love each other. That’s the greatest award I’ll ever get.”

Manilow and Kief married in 2014; the singer came out as gay three years later. (Manilow was briefly married to his high school girlfriend, Susan Deixler, in the mid-1960s.) Has he found that the world looks at him differently since he came out?

“It was a non-event. Nobody gave a s—,” he says. “They all knew. I never really hid it, but in the ’70s and ’80s, that would have killed the career, and I didn’t want to do that. So I just never talked about it.” He smiles.

“Garry and I are just two guys that live in a house on a hill with two dogs that we love.”

Like many of Manilow’s hits, “Once Before I Go” was Davis’ idea.

Allen, the late Australian entertainer portrayed by Hugh Jackman in Broadway’s Tony-winning “The Boy From Oz,” had played the tune for Manilow in the early ’80s. “And I loved it,” Manilow says now. “But I was too young to sing a song like that — that song needs age to be able to pull it off honestly.”

Davis first suggested that Manilow perform it in his set at the post-pandemic We Love NYC concert that Davis put on in Central Park in 2021. After the show, which was called off due to weather as Manilow sang “Can’t Smile Without You,” Davis repeatedly advised the singer to record it.

Clive Davis, left, with Barry Manilow at an Arista Records party in Los Angeles in 1989.

(Lester Cohen / Getty Images)

“I don’t know, he had a bug up his ass,” Manilow says. “He loved it, and he loved it for me. And I’m not even on his record label anymore — he’s just a friend at this point. But he was right once again.”

Given the cancer diagnosis, did Manilow worry that fans might interpret the song — a teary goodbye from a well-wishing lover — as a more permanent farewell?

“Not one time has anybody said, ‘Is he talking about dying?’”

You wouldn’t necessarily call “What a Time” a concept album, though many of the songs ponder the ways memory and history can shape a romance. Manilow knows he’s regarded as a singles act but says that putting together LPs is what he’s always enjoyed best. His favorite is 1984’s jazzy “2:00 AM Paradise Cafe,” on which he collaborated with Mulligan, Sarah Vaughan and Mel Tormé.

“That was one where the critics who’d been killing me, they didn’t know I was capable of doing something like that,” he says. “But frankly, I’d been surprised that I was capable of doing the pop stuff.”

You made records of hits from the ’50s, ’60s, ’70s and ’80s. Why’d you stop before “The Greatest Songs of the Nineties”?
Were there songs in the ’90s?

Barry.
Didn’t it start to go downhill?

I can think of a handful of classics by Whitney Houston alone.
You can’t touch those. I’m a good arranger, but you can’t top those records. Maybe four of those albums was enough. I was ready to go back to writing.

You’ve said the problem with modern pop is that there’s no melody anymore.
That’s what I miss. Clive’s been pushing me to do “The Great New American Songbook.”

Like he did with Johnny Mathis a few years ago.
So I’ve been studying the Top 20. The one I like is Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars.

“Die With a Smile.”
Love that. But the way they’re writing songs these days is not the way I know how to write songs. They don’t do a verse, a chorus, a bridge, a chorus, a big ending. To me, when I listen, the songs feel like run-on sentences.

Barry Manilow with his dog Abby.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

I was trying to think of artists older than you who are still performing.
Name me one.

Willie Nelson.
Oh, yeah.

Johnny Mathis.
Mm-hmm.

Frankie Valli.
[Rolls eyes].

You’re invoking the widely held assumption that he lip syncs.
I loved Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Who didn’t?

Would you ever lip sync?
I’m terrible at it. I try now and again.

Do you find it morally objectionable?
Depends on the artist. I like being in the moment, not knowing what’s gonna happen in the next bar or at the ending. It’s exciting to me to see if I can make those high notes.

Would not being able to make them mean it’s time to hang it up?
Well, what’s happening right now, I’m on the verge. But I’m getting stronger, so maybe I don’t have to hang it up yet. I look fantastic, but I’m a hundred years old, right? I don’t know how that happened, by the way — I don’t get Botox or anything.

You’ve had no work done?
No! I must say: There was one time when we lived in L.A. that I did do a facelift. But after that it’s just been a little here, a little there.

Wait, I asked you —
“Work” is like a facelift, and I only had one of those. The rest of it — I see something falling down, sure, I’ll do that. I’m as vain as anybody else. One of my old friends, his mother said, “I always knew he was talented, but when did he get so handsome?”

A HUGE British band has been forced to cancel their UK tour after one of the member’s revealed a devastating diagnosis.

Popular indie duo Seafret have scrapped the remainder of their current UK tour after the band’s lead guitarist Harry Draper was diagnosed with a debilitating eye disease that will eventually cause him to go blind.

The band, who consist of Harry alongside frontman Jack Sedman and first formed in 2011, shared the news in a statement on the band’s social media on Tuesday afternoon.

Harry explained he had been diagnosed with Stargardt, which is a rare genetic eye condition that causes progressive central vision loss.

The post read: “Hey everyone, I’m so sorry to have to do this, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel the remainder of the tour.

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, I’m struggling. I’ve recently been diagnosed with an eye disease called Stargardt, which will sadly mean I’m going to go blind.”

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The musician said he was going to take some time out but thanked his fans for their support and insisted “I won’t let this stop me”.

“It’s been so much to get my head around, and I’ve really struggled to see last few nights on stage,” the statement continued.

“I just need to take a bit of time out to get my head around all of this.

“I won’t let this stop me, but I do just need a little time.

“I know you’ll understand, you’re the best fans in the world. From the bottom of my heart, I’m so sorry. Harry xx.”

The band’s fans rushed to show their support for the musician following his statement regarding his diagnosis. 

The duo kicked off their huge UK and European tour last week and were due to visit a number of cities around the UK before heading over to Europe next month. 

The band first achieved chart success in 2016 when their debut album charted on the official album charts.

They then went on to release a number of singles and EPs. Their biggest success came in 2022, when a sped-up version of their song “Atlantis” went viral on TikTok.

Following this, they released an official version of the song, leading it to chart all across Europe and pass over 400 million streams on Spotify.

While their monthly listeners on the platform increased to over 13 million.

MUSIC fans were divided after Oli Sykes slammed them for leaving his band’s gig early.

Oli, 39, fronts the massive band Bring Me The Horizon and went on the rant at their recent gig in Nashville, USA.

Kneeling on the stage wearing a large cowboy hat with a pink feather hem, Oli angrily pointed in the direction of the crowd in a video posted to TikTok by user @professionalconcertgoer.

“Now I start seeing t***s leaving early to beat the traffic… I can see one there, that c***t and he’s a VIP one too,” Oli said looking into the audience.

“Why did you pay all that money for?”

Fans of the band explained their reasons for needing to leave gigs before they finished and also slammed Oli’s attitude.

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“I always think it’s wild when artists talk about the fans that lined their pockets like this. I thought better of Oli,” wrote one person in the comment section of the TikTok.

Another added: “Oli my brother in Christ the last bus / train home is like 10:45 we have to leave early or we’re sleeping on the street.”

But a third commented: “I’ll never understand why people leave early. I’ve done it a couple of times and have regretted it every time.”

While a fourth posted: “He said this in toronto too, i felt bad but he’s gotta take it up with go transit 😭 if i miss my train i’m stranded in the city, i don’t have money or a credit card to get a hotel for the night.”

Bring Me The Horizon formed in 2004 and have released six studio albums.

They have been nominated for two Grammys and this year won a Brit for Best Rock/Alternative Act. They’ve also scooped seven Kerrang! gongs in a career that dates back 20 years.

There was no greater sign of a mainstream breakthrough than when they collaborated with Ed Sheeran for a souped-up version of his hit Bad Habits at the Brit Awards in 2022.

Adding rocky riffs and synths to the catchy pop tune, the heavier element clearly thrilled Ed who performed the collab with a big grin.

Last year, Oli officialy became a dad after his Brazilian model wife Victoria Alissa Salles Silva announced she had given birth to twins.

In an Instagram post, she shared an image of the tots – writing, “amor infinito,” which translates to “infinite love”, adding, “grey & zélia.”

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

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The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.

“Curly” Williams returned to his old high school campus last week for the first time in 76 years, but did so under his given name — the same name emblazoned on North Hollywood High’s newest attraction: the John Williams Performing Arts Center.

Williams, 94, attended the ribbon-cutting ceremony last Wednesday, which commenced with the composer’s rousing “Raiders March” played by the school’s marching band and accompanied by its blue-clad cheerleaders.

“I think you played that better than we could have,” Williams said, speaking from a wheelchair under the sign of his namesake venue in front of other accomplished alumni and friends, including producer Kathleen Kennedy. “That’s a hard piece.”

The ambitious construction project, initiated in 2015 and designed by CO Architects occupies 35,000 square feet and seats 800. Michael Stebbins, project manager for the BroadStage in Santa Monica, served as project manager. The center is equipped with state-of-the-art amenities to host student performances and school assemblies, but also to train the next generation of theater technicians. Besides an enormous stage, blue velvet curtains, a mixing console and safe catwalks, the building also features new classrooms and rehearsal spaces.

Students, faculty and guests stand for the national anthem before a concert inside the new John Williams Performing Arts Center, named for one of North Hollywood High’s most famous alumni.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

A 75-foot hand-painted mural in the lobby, still in the works by artist Ian Robertson-Salt, is inspired by Williams’ formidable filmography, which serves “as a daily reminder to every student who walks these halls that greatness can begin right here,” remarked Andrés Chait, acting superintendent of Los Angeles Unified School District.

Due to health complications, Williams has made few public appearances in the last two years. He last conducted a concert in February 2024 — and he has also consistently turned down requests to name buildings after him, including at his beloved Tanglewood in Massachusetts, although the Hollywood Bowl did recently name its stage for Williams. It’s a testament to his affection for his time at North Hollywood High, and his regard for the next generation of students, that he not only blessed this dedication but showed up and spoke to a gathered crowd of hundreds.

“I’m sort of silly happy to be here,” he said, calling the dedication “a singular honor in my life.”

Other showbiz alumni on hand included “Beauty and the Beast” producer Don Hahn (class of ’73), “Independence Day” writer-producer Dean Devlin (’80), and Rob Friedman (’81), CEO of Ascendant Entertainment. Partly due to its proximity to the entertainment industry, North Hollywood High has produced a host of famous artists over the decades, including the late Michael Tilson Thomas, who attended in the early 1960s.

John Williams smiles while applauding a performance by the North Hollywood High School band at the dedication ceremony of the John Williams Performing Arts Center on campus.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

“At some point you have to stop calling that a coincidence,” said Kennedy, a longtime collaborator of Williams who gave brief remarks before handing him the microphone. “Something happened here, and something can happen again.”

Williams moved to North Hollywood with his family in 1947, having grown up in Queens. He transferred to North Hollywood High as a 15-year-old sophomore, and joined the band and orchestra as a jazz-loving trombonist. His classmates included Susan Sontag (“I remember her teaching a class in civics, when the teacher would sit down and listen to her,” he told me in 2023) and many future actors, including Barbara Ruick, who played Carrie Pipperidge in “Carousel.” But his best friends were all music-inclined guys whose dads, like his, were famous musicians.

A poster board featured yearbook photos of John Williams, left, performing with the North Hollywood High School Band, class of 1950, in the lobby of the new John Williams Performing Arts Center on the North Hollywood High School campus.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

Williams embraced the nickname “Curly,” given to him by a fellow student in response to his curly red hair, and quickly created his own jazz band with classmates. Ruick sang with them at school events and dances, and they became the house band at a new teens-only venue in Van Nuys called the Dri-Nite Club. Broadcast on local radio, they caught the attention of Time magazine, which ran a story on “Curly’s” band in October 1949.

A newspaper story about John Williams’ high school band from the Los Angeles Unified School District’s archives.

(Los Angeles Unified School District)

Williams has said he fondly remembers his civics and French classes at North Hollywood High, but his time and passion were almost exclusively devoted to music. He rigorously practiced the piano at home, studying with a local concert pianist and MGM arranger named Robert Van Eps; on Wednesday nights he played in jam sessions with his father (Johnny Sr., a drummer) and the Columbia Pictures orchestra. He bopped around clubs in L.A. listening to jazz greats like Oscar Peterson (whose style influenced Williams’ recent piano concerto), and started making a name of his own as a wunderkind performer and arranger.

Long before he scored “Star Wars” or “Harry Potter,” Williams did his earliest arranging and orchestrating for theater productions at North Hollywood High. The impact of his time at North Hollywood High cannot be overstated.

John Williams featured with members of the class of 1950 in the North Hollywood High School Yearbook.

(Los Angeles Unified School District)

During his remarks about the performing arts center on Wednesday, Williams said he felt particularly overwhelmed because the school was “formative in my thinking and my professional work … This is a great, magical place, North Hollywood.”

Williams eventually married Ruick, his high school sweetheart and mother of his three children. Ruick was instrumental in making many of Williams’ earliest career connections. She died from a brain aneurysm in 1974, at the age of 41, just one year before Williams’ career catapulted with “Jaws.” The couple’s youngest son, Joseph, lead singer of Toto, stood proudly behind Williams during the theater’s dedication.

The John Williams Performing Arts Center (JWPAC) is the crescendo of a $319.5 million modernization project at North Hollywood High, which also includes modern classrooms and athletic facilities. It’s a reflection of the diverse public school’s commitment to the arts; students here can play in the orchestra, marching band or modern band, and study drama or modern dance.

“As I think about what else I might say to all of you younger people, students here,” Williams said at his homecoming Wednesday, “two words about this beautiful building: simply use it. Make sure you all use the place.”

Tim Greiving is the author of “John Williams: A Composer’s Life.”