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BERKELEY — Twelve hours after walking offstage at the Greek Theatre on Tuesday night, David Byrne sits down with a cup of coffee on the patio of a tony hillside hotel and admits that he’s starting to get a little misty.

Last night’s concert on the campus of UC Berkeley was one of the remaining few on Byrne’s yearlong world tour after 2025’s “Who Is The Sky?” album. About an hour from now, a bus will pull up to ferry the 74-year-old musician and the dozen or so members of his touring company to the airport for a quick flight to Los Angeles, where they’re set to perform Friday and Saturday nights at the Hollywood Bowl.

“There’s a firepit over there,” Byrne says, pointing across the patio, “so after the show we all sat around and told stories. Everyone’s such a joy to work with — we’re all having a really good time.” He sighs. “That’s kind of rare, actually.”

“Who Is The Sky?,” which Byrne made with the producer Kid Harpoon, contrasts deep lyrics about art, home and enlightenment with bright pop arrangements filled with crisp grooves and singalong melodies. (Kid Harpoon, whose real name is Tom Hull, is known for the hits he’s created with Harry Styles and Miley Cyrus.) In the show, Byrne blends whimsical new tunes like “My Apartment Is My Friend” and “I Met the Buddha at a Downtown Party” with jittery oldies by Talking Heads, the hugely influential art-rock band he formed in 1975 with Jerry Harrison, Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth.

Yet even when the songs get dark — as in “Life During Wartime,” which comes with images of police violence on the enormous digital screens behind the players — the mood is euphoric: Like Byrne’s previous tour behind 2018’s “American Utopia,” this one has the musicians holding their instruments as they execute choreographed moves on a bare stage; the result is more or less a nonstop dance party. (Also like “American Utopia,” which Spike Lee adapted into an acclaimed concert film, this tour will make its way to movie screens courtesy of “The Brutalist” director Brady Corbet.)

So you can see why Byrne would be sad to see it come to an end, not least because he’s been using his days off to tool around a given town and take pictures of cool local color. At the top of the gig in Berkeley, he showed photos from a hike he’d taken and of a car he’d come across with a tricked-out sound system.

“Any ideas of things to see in L.A.?” he asks me, dressed in a violet-colored chore jacket only a few shades removed from the blue one he wore onstage. “That hike was a workout. Even some of the dancers said those hills were steep.”

“Life During Wartime” was maybe 15% faster last night than the original record.
Could’ve been, yes. You’ll have to ask the drummers — they set the tempo, and they get excited and it kind of ramps up. It’s sometimes hard for me to keep up — I’ve got a lot of words to get out.

I was fortunate to be at Van Halen’s next-to-last show at the Hollywood Bowl, and I remember every song felt insanely fast.
Wonder if that was drugs?

You ever see Van Halen?
Never saw them live. David Lee Roth was a Talking Heads fan — came to visit our rehearsal loft once. I was kind of surprised: “How did you…?”

David Byrne performs at the Coachella festival in April.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Would you say things turned out better or worse than the future you predicted in “Life During Wartime”?
Well, we’re not having a total civil war. There’s maybe still a chance that could happen, but it seems there’s more resistance now than there was before — a sense that we don’t have to just roll over and take all the stuff that’s going on. The footage we got kind of hits home.

You show the video of the guy on the bike pedaling away from ICE agents in Chicago.
That often gets a cheer.

I wondered if it ever doesn’t.
In the United States, no. Seeing the underdog get away — that’s a pretty timeworn story. We didn’t have that video at the beginning of the tour — it didn’t exist. I saw it on some news service, and I thought, oh, this has to lead the whole sequence. When we were first putting the show together, we had more video stuff. But screens are really seductive, so you start looking at that. We said, no, you have to connect with real live people, then you can put it up.

Have you been to the Sphere in Las Vegas?
A bunch of the band and I went to see “Wizard of Oz.” I haven’t seen a band in there. But it was really a lot of fun — quite a spectacle with the video all around you.

Don Henley compares the Eagles’ role there to the organist at a silent movie.
The pit band, yeah. That’s a thing to do — works especially well, I would imagine, for bands like the Eagles and other groups that don’t do a whole lot of song and dance.

At 74, can your body do all the dancing you want to do?
Oh, no. With more physical training, I’d probably be able to do a little more than I can now. But I’m never gonna be able to do what some of the dancers can do.

How about what you used to be able to do?
Like in “Stop Making Sense”? There’s some stuff in there where I go, nope, can’t do that. But I can do other things. I don’t have a feeling that I’m barely getting by.

Are you an exerciser?
I have a person I see in New York. It hasn’t happened so much lately because we’ve been moving around so much. But Sasha [Rivero, from the touring company] leads us through these warm-up exercises before shows — kind of a cross between strength training and yoga.

Beyond the value of staying agile, how do you think about maintaining your looks?
I’m aware it’s a thing. If I came across as old and decrepit, it might be less exciting for some of the audience. Not great for business.

When did your hair go gray?
In the ’90s, I want to say. I dyed it for a while when I started seeing a fair amount of gray coming in. Then at one point I was on holiday with my then-wife and just said, “Let’s cut it off and see what’s under there.” By that point it was pretty much all gray. I was OK with it.

Who’s a performer you admire who’s still out there doing it late in life?
Caetano Veloso — he’s served as a role model for me. He’s someone who’s reinvented himself over and over and over again — done records that are very different than the record before. Even on the same record, he can be really experimental and then do something incredibly romantic.

Can you envision a time when you’d stop performing?
I don’t think so. I can see there might be a point where I don’t do as much dancing around.

I’ve seen Willie Nelson probably half a dozen times in the last 10 years. He sits there and plays, and it’s great.
“My Apartment Is My Friend,” that was inspired by a Willie Nelson song: “Hello Walls.” There’s also a George Jones song, “The Grand Tour,” where he takes you into his place: “This is where she sat, that’s where she put out her cigarette,” all this kind of stuff. I loved that you can make an apartment into a character. So I started putting down ideas, and I realized: Should I reveal that it’s about an apartment right off the bat, or should I wait till the last line of the chorus? Before that, you don’t know — it sounds like a love song. The title gives it away. But Tom, when I said “should I change the title?” he said, “The title’s what got me to listen to the demo.”

If I say that the songs from the new album didn’t come alive for me until the show, how does that strike you?
Good and bad. I wish the record had the same impact that the songs have live. But then I also think to myself: Well, the reason you go to see a live show is because you’re getting something more than you get by just putting a record on.

(Josh Edelson / For The Times)

You’ve been playing for years now with this mobile handheld setup.
I wasn’t sure an audience was gonna go for it. I don’t know why, but I thought it was kind of a big step for an audience to take in.

To not have the traditional rock band stage set.
“Here’s the drummer — we know what he does.” There were people on the last tour who would say, “It’s got to be playback — you’re not really playing it.” So I added an introduction to a song where one by one we introduced the musicians at the beginning of the song, and you could hear how we put it together. An unexpected consequence is that it democratized the whole stage experience for the band members. There’s parts where the drummers come to the front and I go to the back, which you would never have in a regular kind of show where the drummer’s stuck on a riser. Everyone gets to be a star — everyone gets to be recognized as an individual.

Would you say your eagerness to share the spotlight could only have come after years of being the focal point?
I have no idea.

Most of the musicians are pretty young.
Younger than me, anyway.

Why is that important to you?
I learn from them — musically but also personally. I learn about what music they’re listening to, what their experiences have been, what their take on things is. They’re not living in the past — they don’t have nostalgia for the good old days.

In 2023, you spent a fair chunk of time looking back with the rest of Talking Heads for a rerelease of “Stop Making Sense.” Did you enjoy that or grit your teeth through it?
It was fine — it was really nice. As we said over and over, we’re very proud of that show and the music that we did and the film that Jonathan [Demme] made. And that it was going to connect with a completely new generation. Jerry came to the show last night. He lives in Marin.

You guys hang out?
Afterwards, yeah. I mean, he had to drive back. He said he enjoyed it — said it was a good show. I connected him with our keyboard player because the keyboard player came up with these interesting technical things I thought Jerry might be interested in. He has an accelerometer attached to his arm — you don’t see it because his sleeve covers it — where he raises his arm and it increases the volume like a foot pedal on a keyboard.

Tell me about Brady Corbet’s concert movie. He shot it in 70mm.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure why. But Brady made the case, and it wasn’t about bringing people into the theater. He said when you go to 70mm it’s a little bit closer to what your eye experiences.

Talking Heads in Italy in 1982: Tina Weymouth, from left, Jerry Harrison, Chris Frantz and David Byrne.

(Luciano Viti / Getty Images)

This is kind of a cutesy formulation, but I wonder if it’s pushing back on the dominance of vertical video.
Biologically and evolutionary-wise, we experience the world horizontally. We don’t go walking around looking up at the sky — the stuff that’s gonna come get us is somewhere on our eye level.

Jimmy Iovine gave an interview to the New York Times the other day where he said one of the last things he asked AI was about your set list.
He could’ve just asked me.

Iovine was extremely pro-AI in this interview. What’s your vibe?
My vibe is positive and negative. On the positive side, we’ve all heard the hype from Silicon Valley that we’re gonna have medical breakthroughs. The negatives — how could there not be massive job loss? What concerns me is the environmental stuff. The last thing the planet needs is a massive increase in energy usage. We’re talking about the survival of species — of everything that lives on Earth. To ramp up that part of what humans do just seems like the worst possible thing you could do.

The other thing that worries me is that machines aren’t really thinking — they’re probabilistic. This stuff has been designed intentionally to mimic human beings, and we are very, very easily fooled. I think that’s dangerous because we give it agency. We assume all these things about it — we trust it. I mean, people will listen to a political argument from a chatbot more than they will from another person.

Seems bad.
Right?

Any worthwhile creative application you can identify?
I used it a little bit to animate my drawings in one of the sequences from the show. They’re my drawings — I wasn’t taking from anybody else. In that case I feel like it’s a tool that’s very efficient. Might put some animators out of work, but if I had to pay the rate for animators on something like that, it would take a year to do and cost me a fortune.

What if the producer on your next record says, “Hey, here’s a little shortcut we can use”?
We already use little shortcuts — Auto-Tune is one. That’s not AI, but we’ve been using those kinds of tools, and there’s always the danger of overusing them. When people use Auto-Tune a tiny bit, it’s pretty much invisible. But on a lot of records — I’m not talking about the Cher record — it’s a little too perfect, and you start to lose the human connection. So it’s not a clear-cut choice of: Do I use this or not? It’s: Do I get seduced and use it too much?

Under the hot lights of the Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles, the five members of Santos Bravos stood center stage, ready to stake their claim to international stardom. It was the first night of KCON — a three-day festival of Korean pop culture, held every year since 2013 — and on Aug. 14, Santos Bravos became the first Latin American act ever to grace the bill.

Despite the band having debuted less than a year ago, the crowd was buzzing with excitement, but its energy heightened as the slashing knife sounds of “Hooligan,” a song off BTS’ latest hit album, “Arirang,” began to ring out. Because of their popularity, BTS songs are frequently covered by groups at KCON, but newcomers Santos Bravos, who are under the same parent label, Hybe, had more to prove to this audience.

Santos Bravos, a Latin American boy band based in Mexico City, performs on the Artist Stage on Aug. 14 at KCON at the Los Angeles Convention Center.

(Arwen Clemans / Los Angeles Times)

“Hooligan” was produced by Spanish producers Fakeguido and El Guincho (who worked on two records with Rosalía), as well as South Korean producer Ghstloop and American producer Jasper Harris. The multicultural song, with lyrics in both Korean and English, was an apt choice for Santos Bravos — between the five members, they speak and sing in three languages and represent several Latin cultures.

For BTS fans, nothing less than near the performance level of the superstar group is acceptable. But as Santos Bravos sang the opening verses in English, the crowd roared with approval — especially as lead vocalist Kauê Penna, who hails from Brazil, slid onstage to take on the high parts of BTS lead Jungkook.

While artists from different backgrounds working together is nothing new, Santos Bravos, like the Hybe x Geffen girl group Katseye, are part of an effort to bring K-pop training, marketing methods and fandom culture to other regions of the globe.

Fans watch as members of Santos Bravos walk off the stage and into the crowd during a performance on Day One of KCON.

(Arwen Clemans / Los Angeles Times)

Off the global success of BTS, Hybe evolved from a mid-sized label into one of the biggest music and entertainment players in South Korea. Santos Bravos operates under a division called Hybe Latin America, which is based out of Mexico City, where the band calls home. They are the first Hybe group to be based in a region outside of the United States or Asia.

Selected from 17 finalists on a 2025 competition reality show called “Santos Bravos — La Serie,” the contestants had vied to become part of Santos Bravos. Along the way, they received feedback and coaching from Song Sun-deuk, BTS’s longtime former choreographer and performance director. They also worked closely with Miami-based Cuban American choreographer Cultura, who has previously worked with Maluma, J Balvin, and Karol G, among others.

The final five debuted as a group at the show’s finale in October of 2025, where they performed before an audience of 10,000 at the Auditorio Nacional Mexico. Santos Bravos’ members are Penna, 19, from São João de Meriti, Brazil; Kenneth Lavíll,16, from Veracruz, Mexico; Gabi Bermúdez, 21, from San Juan, Puerto Rico; Alejandro Aramburú, 22, of Lima, and Drew Venegas, 26, from L.A. County.

The selected members were no starry-eyed amateurs: Both Lavíll and Aramburú were professional actors in their countries, while the honey-voiced Penna won the fifth season of “The Voice Kids, Brasil” in 2020. Bermúdez, the effusive mood-lifter of the group, was gunning for a career as a soloist when he entered the ring. Venegas, a dance specialist who had performed as a backup dancer for BTS, had a brief stint as a member of the Future X, a co-ed group formed by Simon Fuller that featured members of the queer community.

Not even a year into their formation, Santos Bravos topped Billboard’s new Latin music poll. In January, they performed alongside Mon Laferte and Feid in Willy Chavarria’s Paris Runway show, “Eterno.” In June, their debut EP, “Dual,” made it as high as No. 17 on the Billboard Top Latin Pop Albums chart. That same month, the group won its first award, the fan-voted artist duo or group at the 2026 Premios Tu Música Urbano Mix.

“We’re very disciplined,” said Venegas, who called West Covina home before joining the band. I met the band inside the Los Angeles Convention Center on Saturday, after their KCON breakout moment.

“One day of training was equivalent to one week of training,” he added. “I think combining all of our cultures together, then keeping our Latin essence with the K-pop methodology, [brings] something very new and very fresh for the eye.”

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Santa Monica , CA – August 17: Drew Venegas of Santos Bravos at Hybe America on Monday, Aug. 17, 2026 in Santa Monica , CA. (Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)  (Ronaldo Bolanos/Los Angeles Times)

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Santa Monica , CA – August 17: Kaue Penna of Santos Bravos at Hybe America on Monday, Aug. 17, 2026 in Santa Monica , CA. (Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)  (Ronaldo Bolanos/Los Angeles Times)

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Santa Monica , CA – August 17: Ale Aramburu of Santos Bravos at Hybe America on Monday, Aug. 17, 2026 in Santa Monica , CA. (Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)  (Ronaldo Bolanos/Los Angeles Times)

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Santa Monica , CA – August 17: Kenneth Lavill of Santos Bravos at Hybe America on Monday, Aug. 17, 2026 in Santa Monica , CA. (Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)  (Ronaldo Bolanos/Los Angeles Times)

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Santa Monica , CA – August 17: Gabi Lopez of Santos Bravos at Hybe America on Monday, Aug. 17, 2026 in Santa Monica , CA. (Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)  (Ronaldo Bolanos/Los Angeles Times)

Although the group doesn’t perform in Korean — unless it’s for fun — they cater to K-pop fans, which is easy to do since they too are K-pop fans. They’ve paid a visit to the Hybe headquarters in Seoul, collaborated with bands like Le Sserafim and BoyNextDoor and livestreamed to fans via Hybe’s proprietary social platform Weverse. They’ve even performed on Korean television.

But for the members of Santos Bravos, the cultural exchange goes beyond marketing.

“In Mexico,” Venegas said, “when you’re eating we say, ‘Buen provecho,’ which is like ‘Enjoy your food,’ No matter who it is, no matter who you’re walking by. Food is a big part of acknowledging somebody, and that’s what we have in [common with Korean culture].”

Mostly talking to each other in Spanish — both Venegas and Penna learned to speak it as a second language — they occasionally forget which language they are speaking to each other in.

“Sometimes I find myself talking to Kenneth or Kauê in English when I don’t need to,” interjected the soft-spoken Aramburú, who plays the guitar — and, in between his shifts as a pop star, is finishing up his music degree at USC.

“The fact that we learn so many languages opens so many doors for us,” Aramburú said. “Personally, wherever we go, I love to learn the language. I’m on Duolingo learning Korean right now.”

Penna sees language as a way to not only open doors for Latin artists, but also reach people through their music.

“Thank God Latin America is being watched,” said Penna. “You know, people can see what we’re doing, and people also are interested in in our languages, in our culture. And in every country we [visit], we try to learn as much as possible about the culture. Now we’re focusing on Portuguese” — a language they test-drove in the song “Velocidade” — “and of course, English.”

Venegas has found that his experience as a Mexican American who didn’t grow up speaking Spanish resonates with some people.

“There were a couple of fans who came up to me who were of Mexican descent, but they didn’t get the chance to learn like me growing up,” he said. “And immediately, they were at a loss for words and kind of filled with emotions. I started getting emotional because I can feel the heartache and … feeling scared, like you don’t belong … and that’s what I felt like. Being able to speak with them and hear what they say made me feel like I’m not alone and like I do matter. Hearing, ‘OK you didn’t grow up getting spoken to in Spanish, but you were still called mijo like I was called mijo.’ ”

Asked why some people struggle to grasp multiracial Latino identity — Cardi B is brought up as an example — Penna weighed in.

“Being in Santos Bravos as an Afro Latino is something so important to me,” said Penna. “I feel like this ‘thing’ of being this or being that… It’s just cultural differences. I’m also working to understand how another culture sees me. As Brazilians, we are very mixed. Of course, I have my Afro side, my mom’s side, I have my Indigenous side… but of course, I am very open and very proud [with] what I’m representing in Santos Bravos.”

“People in general like to categorize,” said Bermúdez, who grew up idolizing Puerto Rican singer Chayanne. Raised in Puerto Rico by parents with both Boricuan and Cuban heritage, Bermúdez bristles at attempts to divide Latinos.

“We as Santos Bravos want to transmit to the world that Latin America is one,” he said

Santos Bravos

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

On the Monday after KCON, I met up a second time with the members of Santos Bravos, who were milling about in the Hybe America offices in Santa Monica. Venegas scrolled through his phone while Penna shuffled past us to grab a drink from the office fridge. I ask whether he’s tired. “A little” he replies, but he’s good.

Upstairs, walking past a large poster of BTS, I met with Juanse Arenas, president of Hybe Global Label Services, who promotes artists outside of their home markets. He said the company looked closely at data and research when conceptualizing the group.

“Mexican regional music became really big, Bad Bunny himself went global,” Arenas said. “You have Karol G, J Balvin, all these massive artists who come from our countries. Latin music is no longer just Latin; it’s global, right? Now, there is a methodology that exists in K-pop that has produced very successful groups. But you can’t just apply that methodology blindly to new regions and to new places — you have to [consider] where the members are coming from, what makes them tick, what drives them and the audience they’re speaking to.”

After posing for individual promo portraits, they gathered for a group photo before singing an acapella version of the uptempo ballad “MHM” for social content. They also greeted their fans on the Weverse livestream, where they expressed sadness over leaving L.A.

“Nos vamos pronto de L.A., mi gente,” said Lavíll to fans. “Y estamos tristes.”

Christian metal band Demon Hunter is suing Netflix, alleging trademark infringement associated with the streamer’s hit film “KPop Demon Hunters.”

The lawsuit was filed Tuesday by Hyde Lane, the corporate entity for Demon Hunter, against Netflix, Netflix Studios and AEG Presents, the live-entertainment division of AEG, with claims that the defendants have “created a substantial likelihood of confusion” among consumers.

The metalcore band — which was formed in 2000 out of Seattle by brothers Ryan and Don Clark — claims the success of the 2025 urban fantasy flick has “eclipse[d]” the group’s “established identity” and “commercial fate,” especially as plans for a KPop Demon Hunters global concert tour were announced in May in partnership with AEG Presents.

Hyde Lane originally trademarked “Demon Hunter” in 2014 under entertainment, namely live performances. To date, the band has released 12 studio albums and amassed more than 348,000 monthly listeners on Spotify. Several of its early music videos, including popular tracks like “Dead Flowers” and “Someone to Hate,” have garnered millions of views on YouTube.

In 2022, the company submitted other trademark protections for recorded music and merchandise.

By comparison, Netflix filed 10 applications under the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office for “KPop Demon Hunters” for merchandise purposes starting in August 2025.

Hyde Lane has “been forced to surrender control over its commercial identity simply because Defendants have greater resources and a larger marketplace footprint,” the lawsuit states.

In the suit, the plaintiffs cite instances where there has been “consumer confusion.”

On Feb. 26, 2026, someone requested a refund after purchasing $500 tickets to a Demon Hunter show in Albany, N.Y., believing it was for a KPop Demon Hunters concert, according to the suit. “If I dont get it refunded I will not be able to purchase tickets to the actual ‘K pop demon hunters show,’” the email read.

On March 16, 2026, a producer from “Inside Edition” emailed Demon Hunter manager Ryan J. Downey to request an interview with songwriter Yu Han Lee (of KPop Demon Hunters) following the Oscar win for original song, the lawsuit states.

Additionally, the plaintiffs say the Christian band has been incorrectly tagged in connection to various KPop Demon Hunters content.

“Due to Defendants’ wrongful actions, Demon Hunter’s established identity is becoming increasingly obscured within recorded music, live touring and merchandise-related channels due to overlapping use by the KPop Demon Hunters brand,” the lawsuit states.

Hyde Lane is requesting Netflix and Netflix Studios be held liable for infringement, although no specified amount was listed in the suit.

The complaint arrives a year after the 2025 animated musical “KPop Demon Hunters” — which centered on Huntrix, a music trio who hunt demons — reached unprecedented heights, becoming Netflix’s most-watched animated original movie. Earlier this year, the film’s focus track, “Golden,” became the first K-pop song to win an Oscar.

Plans for the “KPop Demon Hunters” sequel are already underway as the lawsuit makes its way through the California court system.

ZZ Top is mourning the loss of longtime drummer Frank Beard, who has died at age 77 after years of facing health-related issues.

The band announced Beard’s death on Tuesday via Instagram, with founding member and frontman Billy Gibbons writing in a statement that he and fellow member Elwood Francis “lost a great friend and collaborator, and the world lost one of the most naturally innovative drummers and a great and true son of Texas.”

The Fort Bend County Medical Examiner confirmed to The Times that Beard’s death was reported Monday. A cause of death was not revealed. He died at his ranch in Texas with family by his side after a stay in hospice, TMZ reported.

Beard died weeks after ZZ Top called off its Aug. 5 concert at the Hollywood Bowl, reportedly due to his health issues. In March 2025, the Texas trio also shared that Beard would temporarily step away from the band’s Elevation tour to address a separate health issue, later revealed to be foot and ankle problems. The veteran drummer had also missed shows because of an emergency appendectomy in 2002.

ZZ Top said in Tuesday’s announcement that its concerts in Salt Lake City and Colorado Springs have been canceled in the wake of Beard’s death. The band will continue its The Big One! tour this weekend, including two shows at Austin City Limits, which it said had become one of “Frank’s favorite venues in a city that had been something of a second home” for the drummer.

Beard joined ZZ Top in 1969, soon after the band formed, replacing founding drummer Dan Mitchell.

Times staff writer Andrea Flores contributed to this report.

In the beginning of 2025, Taylor Olin had decided she’d seen enough of Echo Park and decided to relocate to a cozy ranch up in Altadena. There, she’d begun to plant her roots in an artistic community, spending most of the last year and some change nestled in with her new flock of bohemian neighbors.

It would be the perfect sanctuary for the Something Specials frontwoman, that doubled as a creative space.

By the first week of January, she moved her belongings into a rented stationary camper situated on a ranch owner’s sprawling land, that they’d lived on for more than 25 years. In the shadow of the San Gabriel Mountains, her L.A. chronicle would continue, as dreamed.

But within a week of settling down, she’d receive a knock on her door, step out of her home, and see flames burning a nearby hillside. When she saw the fire she knew to leave, packing as much as she could before making a run for it.

“Every successive update we would get from her was just unbelievably surreal,” said Josh Augustin, who plays drums and keys and does production for the band.

She didn’t know it yet, but all that was left of her camper was its frame; it’s burned, twisted metal was another casualty of the L.A. wildfires. For the next couple of weeks, she’d couch surf until ultimately sleeping in her van, waking up early to wait tables at an oyster bar on Sunset Boulevard.

The remains of Olin’s rented camper.

(Taylor Olin)

“From there, I went back to Florida, and I put on a benefit show for some specific people in Altadena that I wanted to give some funds to,” Olin said.

She’d then relocate to Europe and start fresh with aid from a GoFundMe created by a friend. Roughly a year and a half later, she’s still there and has had time to reflect on the experience.

“As much as I was directly affected, I really have held the space in my heart for those who have been there for their entire lives,” she said.

“My commitment to the community had only been a year … whereas they had invested so much and lost so much.”

But something fascinating was happening behind the scenes, coinciding with the disaster that had sent Olin overseas and left her bandmates, Augustin and Nathan Slone — located in New York City — shocked.

One year earlier, the band had released “Love,” a pleasantly sweet, folky, country-adjacent tune that melts easily into eardrums. Though it hadn’t received much attention at the time, it began to gain some traction on social media right after Olin settled down in Europe, frequently appearing in short-form videos across Instagram.

“We had no idea where we were getting it from,” she said of the new listeners. “It was picked algorithmically and put at the top of recommended songs on stories and reels, and so we started seeing thousands of reels being used with its intro.”

The band unwittingly stumbled into virality.

“We would get maybe a few hundred listeners in a day across our entire discography,” Slone, guitarist and bassist, said. “It’s … come to life, die, come back to life, and died. Now our whole discography seems to be in a ‘high tide lifts all ships’ moment.”

At that time, “Love” was floating around 1 million listeners on Spotify. Today, it sits at nearly 20 million, with the band’s average monthly listeners at 1.2 million. Small highlights include being featured in a Reese Witherspoon carousel and Ashley Tisdale French gardening video on Instagram, the latter containing their other hit, “Aces.”

Now, the trio is gearing up to release its debut album, “Somewhere Up There,” on Friday. At just shy of an hour, the project is split almost evenly between new music and previously released tunes.

Album art for “Somewhere Up There.”

(Taylor Olin / The Something Specials)

Impressively, the band has met in person only three times, one of which was when they first agreed to work together. Better yet, when Olin and Slone first met, it was shaking hands on stage at the Echoplex before the band’s first show.

They’re all skilled musicians, having done their due diligence in different music groups, but nothing has clicked like the parasocial success that is the Something Specials.

“We need each other all the way through — we each bring a different thing to the project,” Slone said.

“I’ll go and write the bass of the song, and a riff if there’s a riff. Josh helps with keyboards and drums. We refine it a little bit together. We send it to Taylor. Taylor records over it. We get it back. We might add a part or two. We mix it. All say yes. Send it for mastering and upload it.”

In a modern world, it’s not unusual to hear of music production being done in such a way, but it’s the group’s limited personal relationship that makes it shine.

The plan is to keep being nonchalant about the whole thing, and hopefully their fan base will continue to grow. On Oct. 28, they’ll play the Sultan Room in New York City, their third time together as a band.

“It’s bizarrely easy,” Slone adds.

“With very few exceptions, if things are flowing well, we can wrap something up in a week or two,” Augustin adds about the outfit’s remote recording process.

They’re still winging it at this point, unsigned and with no representation, but “winging it has served us well,” Olin said.

“We’ve been approached many times [by labels],” Slone continues. “But we do pretty darn well on our own, and record labels don’t really have much to offer us, frankly.”

Olin says that in a time where the use of artificial intelligence is so prevalent, and particularly in creative spaces, doing things “DIY” is the best approach. They’re starting with an initial run of around 500 vinyl records, with plans to release the album on CD and cassette later down the line.

“With this kind of band — with our sound, with our aesthetic— I think that as old-school as possible feels best,” she said.

Lots of broken-up bands reconvene for a tour, as the Black Crowes did in 2019, half a decade after brothers Chris and Rich Robinson dissolved the Southern rock group they’d formed in Atlanta in the mid-1980s. Some even stay together long enough to make a new record, as the Crowes managed to do with 2024’s well-received “Happiness Bastards.” What’s relatively rare in music is for a reunited band to quickly follow up a comeback album with a second one. Yet that’s what the Robinsons did this year when they dropped “A Pound of Feathers,” the Crowes’ 10th studio LP, behind which they’ll touch down Monday night at the Hollywood Bowl. Ahead of the show, Chris Robinson, 59, called from the road to tell the stories behind five of the band’s songs.

‘Hard to Handle’ (1990)

The Black Crowes broke out with a frisky cover of this Otis Redding tune just as hair metal was giving way to grunge. A hit on MTV, the song drove sales of the band’s debut, “Shake Your Money Maker,” to sales of more than 5 million copies.

There are some songs of Otis’ that I couldn’t do justice. As a 21-year-old kid starting my career — well, we didn’t even know we were gonna have careers — but what am I gonna sing? “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long”? “Hard to Handle,” it’s cheeky, it’s lighthearted. And I loved the break: “Pretty little thing, let me light your candle…” So I took it to George Drakoulias, our producer, and I said, “I think we could do this.” George is the one who turned it into “Walk This Way” — he put it in the same rhythmic space. Otis’ version swings, but we really couldn’t swing at the time.

So “Hard to Handle” wasn’t something you were playing live early on?
No, we brought it in for the record. Being from Georgia and Otis being from Georgia, it was important to us that people knew this is where we’re coming from. Two autumns ago, Zelma Redding and her family invited us to their big old ranch outside Macon, and we had an afternoon in the great man’s study. They have all his awards and guitars and stuff and the velvet slippers he had on when the plane crashed. At certain times in our career, we’ve been like, “F—, do we have to play ‘Hard to Handle’ again?’” We’d jam at the end or try all these things to make it sound different. But as the years have gone by, we just play it the way it’s supposed to be.

George’s engineer, Brendan O’Brien, played the guitar solo in “Hard to Handle.” Why?
We had Jeff Cease, but he’d split and gone back to Nashville. And Rich didn’t play solos back then. That changed, but at the time he was the rhythm guitar player. So it was out of necessity. We needed that meat-and-potatoes solo, and Brendan could rip it. I saw him on some podcast saying we were in L.A. and we were gonna call Slash. I’m like, “No we weren’t — you did the solo in Atlanta on Rich’s Les Paul.”

“Shake Your Money Maker” came out on Rick Rubin’s Def American label, and he’s credited as executive producer. Did Rick do anything on the album?
No.

All righty.
I’m just being honest. George and I lived in Rick’s house — I was in the basement — but the most I saw of him at the time was him leaving to go get lunch at Canter’s with Glenn Danzig. He did come to a session once with Andrew Dice Clay. We were called Mr. Crowe’s Garden at the time — we weren’t yet the Black Crowes. Rick and George were like, “You guys probably need to change your name,” and Andrew Dice Clay goes, “You should change it to Sticky Paste.” I said, “Why don’t you stick to the cigarette over your head, and I’ll handle this?”

‘She Talks to Angels’ (1990)

For “Money Maker’s” fourth single, the band released this darkly poetic ballad about a woman struggling with a drug addiction.

Were you nervous to reveal a softer side?
The only trepidation would’ve been because this was the power-ballad era of all the hair-metal bands.

Poison with “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” and so on.
Every band had one. There were hair-metal bands that only had power ballads — Firehouse or some band with 17th century French aristocrat hair.

Everything but the lace cravat.
Everything but sincere songwriting. Look, they’re people too — I get it. But we wrote a ballad out of the sincerity of how we were feeling, you know? We were reaching for “Wild Horses” or “Dark End of the Street” or “Astral Weeks.” The power ballad was a device for rock bands, but we didn’t use it as that. We used it as pure expression.

Tell me about the story the song tells.
My interest in writing and literature revolved around darker themes, whether it was the Beats or Paul Bowles or whatever. There’s drugs and madness and pain but also glory and redemption and the true heartbeat of life. So the song is a sad story but it’s romantic. There’s no moral gotcha — no resentment toward the character or the predicament they find themselves in.

How’d you come by that approach?
Reading. My mother, who just passed away a few weeks ago, she gave me a great gift: I’m dyslexic, and my mom in the early ’70s in the Deep South, she knew something was up with me. I went to school three times a week after school for years to learn how to read. And when that clicked, that was everything. My life now, it’s horribly boring. Rick Rubin with Danzig at Canter’s sounds exciting compared to Chris Robinson and the used bookstores of my life.

“Angels” is full of vivid details: the lock of hair in the woman’s pocket, for instance. Who were the songwriters that taught you how to create an image?
It all starts with Bob: “Jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule” — like, what?! But I’m a funny Dylan fan because I like the weird lyrics he does, like “Clothes Line Saga” from “The Basement Tapes.” Alex Chilton was really big. The first Big Star record I could get my hands on in the early ’80s was “3rd.” As a matter of fact, the first show we ever did, Rich and I played “Nightime” from that record.

On the strength of “Money Maker,” the Crowes were nominated for best new artist at the Grammys in 1991. You didn’t win —
A theme that continues today.

You remember who did?
It was Mariah Carey, I think.

Correct.
Good for her. Rich and I flew in from some tour date for one night, and I remember MC Hammer winning and doing something with Pepsi. I met MC Hammer a couple years ago. Amazingly cool guy.

What put you and Hammer in the same room?
I’m not allowed to talk about that.

Sure.
No, I’m serious — I can’t talk about it.

‘Remedy’ (1992)

The Crowes’ sophomore album, “The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion,” was led by this swaggering soul-rock jam, which Robinson opened with a memorable couplet: “Baby, baby, why can’t you sit still? / Who killed that bird out on your windowsill?”

I was in Philly a few weeks ago, in Rittenhouse Square, and I said to my friend, “That’s the hotel that I opened my window one gray day on tour, and there was a dead bird.” The room was on the 15th floor or something, and I guess the bird had flown into the glass. I was in a series of early failed rock and roll relationships, so my imagination was: Who killed that bird? Oh, she did it. The rest of it’s made up, but I had to see the dead bird that morning to kick off the thought.

There’s some great interplay here between you and your background singers — really draws out the R&B in the band’s sound.
For us, it’s instinctive. I’ve ingested a lot of Funkadelic, a lot of Prince, a lot of the Gap Band. One of my first concerts was Cameo on the “Alligator Woman” tour — mind-blowing. My singing is far more rhythmic than it is melodic a lot of the time. When I was playing with Joe Perry last summer, Steven Tyler came down to the Hollywood Bowl to do “Train Kept A-Rollin’.” He was like, “What key’s it in?” I said, “I don’t know.” He’s like, “You’ve been out with Joe for three weeks, and you don’t know what key the song’s in?” I said, “Steven, are you ready? I’ve never known what key a song is in.”

“Remedy” spent 11 straight weeks at No. 1 on Billboard’s rock radio chart. One of the songs stuck behind it was the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Under the Bridge.”
And just think — I never took my shirt off.

‘Sting Me’ (1992)

The tune that eventually knocked “Remedy” from the top spot? The Crowes’ second single from “Southern Harmony.”

It’s as close to a protest song as we ever got. Concerts in the ’90s were wild, man — we were seeing security guards beating on kids. But we were also seeing this blind patriotism toward ideals and philosophies that you’ve never even really looked at with any depth. So: “If you feel like a riot / Then don’t you deny it.”

There’s something slippery about the riff — it takes a second to figure out where the one is.
It fights itself — it’s funky in there. “Shake Your Money Maker” was very straight — click tracks to put the drum track together, now play the bass over that, blah blah blah. We just weren’t great at that point. By the time we’re in the studio with “Sting Me,” though, that’s one take live on the floor. We made “Southern Harmony” in eight days.

You can hear the effect of having played a few hundred gigs.
I’m glad you say that. Now bands are like, “I don’t want to go on the road — I’m gonna take a mental health break.” Can you imagine in 1992, you’re in one of the biggest bands in the world, and you’re like, “Hey man, I gotta chill out”? Get the f— out of here.

The “Sting Me” video was filmed at the Great Atlanta Pot Festival in 1992, which the band played as part of your activism around legalizing weed. What’s it been like to see those efforts succeed to some degree?
My main victory within that, if my voice was a part of it, is that we’re in a more gentle place — that it won’t ruin your life now if the police pull you over and there’s a roach in your ashtray. You have to realize: Being arrested isn’t just about the inconvenience of being incarcerated — it’s that now you’re in the system. I mean, ask any marginalized community — those drug laws were put on the books to keep you down.

‘Pharmacy Chronicles’ (2026)

Over a shuffling country-blues groove, Robinson sings about “perfume, Champagne and sin” in this standout from “A Pound of Feathers.”

Would you have foreseen that, after you got back together, you and Rich would release two albums in less than two years?
I don’t know about that. But leave Rich and I to our own devices, and that’s what we do. Our whole entrée into this world wasn’t because I could sing or he was a great guitarist — we wanted to write songs. I’ve written a lot of songs by myself, and probably out of those songs, there’s a few that I’m proud of. And I think Rich would say the same thing for himself. But there’s just something about the inspiration I get from Rich’s playing that makes us a successful songwriting team.

“Pharmacy Chronicles” has some bedraggled wisdom to it. I’m not sure you could have written it as a younger man.
I wasn’t that cynical then. It’s making fun of yourself in a way — like some old Victorian actor in the bowels of the theater taking his makeup off and wondering what it all means.

Do you think your voice has changed along with your perspective?
Of course my voice has changed — through age and, in the ’90s, through abuse. I can’t hit the super-highest notes I could as a young person. But we still sing the old songs in the original keys. Not that I know what those keys are.

In the private home studio left behind by his father, Shane Hawkins is hitting the drums hard. The teenager behind the kit is locked into “Driven to Tears,” the Police’s reggae-charged protest song, channeling its sharp, syncopated beats with controlled fury.

His long blond hair swings across his face as Hawkins loses himself in the moment, tapping into a brisk echo of ’80s rock. He then shifts into the thundering blues of Black Sabbath’s “The Wizard,” driving into the heavier groove while surrounded by the instruments, gear and treasured memorabilia of his late father, Foo Fighters drummer Taylor Hawkins, who died in 2022.

Joining him in this rehearsal are bassist Wiley Hodgden and guitarist Brent Woods, who played hard-rocking cover songs in Taylor’s side project Chevy Metal for more than two decades. After Taylor’s death, the Foo Fighters carried on, but Chevy Metal were certain they could not. Shane changed that.

“Wiley and I were in agreement, like, it’s done,” says Woods. “Shane was the one that said, ‘I want to do Chevy.’”

For Taylor’s son, the band was one more thing he didn’t want to let go.

“It was a part of my childhood and it’s like, my dad was gone and these people that I’ve watched my whole childhood, they’re still there,” says Shane, 19. “Why not keep something going? And it’s just honoring my dad, you know?”

Most of the music world first saw Shane behind the drums during Foo Fighters’ performance of “My Hero” at the Taylor Hawkins tribute concert at Wembley Stadium on Sept. 3, 2022. He was 16 and already obsessed with drums, but he says it wasn’t until that moment that he knew he wanted to devote his life making music.

“It was a gnarly time,” Shane recalls. “You had to pull that off. You can’t really f— that up.

“I played for a lot of people, and there’s only one feeling like that — especially playing the drums. Once you do that, you never want to do anything else.”

With Chevy Metal, Shane is in a band committed to playing songs mostly created before he was born, with a typical setlist including songs by Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, Queen, the Rolling Stones, Talking Heads, Rush and the Doors. His presence now means leaning more often into classic punk rock. During their live sets, Shane will usually take the mic to growl through the Bad Brains’ speedy “Big Takeover,” pacing the stage and banging his head.

“We’re playing the Germs now,” says Woods. “We’re playing Black Flag, which we never did before.”

Shane Hawkins plays drums with Chevy Metal at the Viper Room.

(Steve Appleford)

Chevy Metal shows routinely feature surprise guests. Dave Grohl and other Foos have frequently appeared. So have Mick Jagger and players from Queen, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Guns ‘N Roses and more. Even tennis star John McEnroe once joined the band on guitar at a Malibu gig, alongside his wife, singer Patty Smyth.

One regular guest is Lee Ving, singer for the pioneering L.A. punk band Fear. “Lee is like the elder statesman, and then we got Shane, who is so young,” Hodgden says of the age range. “You never see that unless it’s maybe a church band or something.”

Another regular is Anthrax guitarist Scott Ian, a family friend whose son Revel also plays music with Shane.

“He’s a great dude and he is a monster drummer,” Scott says of Shane. “I sit and I watch him and Revel play together. It’s so great to see, especially in a world where a lot of younger kids don’t pick up instruments anymore. They live, eat, sleep, breathe, bleed, rock music.”

Until this month, the resurrected Chevy Metal could only perform during Shane’s breaks from his boarding school on the East Coast, but he is newly graduated and ready to play. The trio performs Saturday at Alex’s Bar in Long Beach as part of a series of shows that will take the band to the U.K. Shane is also working with other young players on new material.

“He’s already jamming with kids his own age and friends that he’s had for years, and starting his own project,” says Woods. “But this is good for him to learn, just to play in different venues and travel around and get his feet wet playing covers.”

Chevy Metal once served a similar purpose for Taylor, a favorite pastime alongside his Foo Fighters work. Hodgden has been part of the Foo Fighters crew for 24 years, both on the road and at their studio 606, starting as Taylor’s drum tech. Before that, he was a bartender newly arrived from Oklahoma that the drummer befriended.

In 2002, Hodgden and original guitarist Achim “Dange” St. Dangerfield started the band as an acoustic duo doing cover songs. Taylor was a regular, Hodgden says, turning to Shane. “There’d be two drunks at the bar, and then your dad sitting there heckling us,” Hodgden says with a laugh. “We go into ‘Hotel California,’ and he’s like, ‘Oh, great song choice, guys.’”

The Foos drummer soon wanted in.

“Taylor was trying to come up with names and he’s like, ‘How about Chevy Metal?’ And I said, ‘Well, you can’t really name the band. You’re not in it,’” Hodgden adds. “But we jammed all the time up at his house, and then one day we’re playing and it sounded good. And Taylor stood up and said, ‘I’m gonna be your drummer and we’re gonna call it Chevy Metal.’ And I was like, that’s a rad name.”

“He got to be the boss in this band and steer the ship and do whatever he wanted,” says Hodgden. “But also it was low pressure and it was all about fun.”

Taylor filled much of his downtime making more music. Aside from Chevy Metal, he recorded new songs with the Coattail Riders (which included Woods) and, earlier, the Birds of Satan (including Hodgden).

“He never stopped,” Woods recalls. “He would call me at 7 a.m. and go, ‘What are you doin? Get up here!’ He’d go to bed probably at midnight, one o’clock, and he’s up taking the kids to school, he’s mountain biking, and he’s ready to roll. I was still sleeping, but he would be up every day wanting to create and work.”

Woods saw Chevy Metal’s first show with Taylor at Abuelitas in Topanga Canyon in 2002. After Dange moved up north to work as a teacher, Woods eventually became Chevy Metal’s new guitarist. Woods grew up in Burbank and took guitar lessons from Randy Rhoads, best known for his work on Ozzy Osbourne’s early solo albums.

“He was such a great lead player, but he was adamant that if you can’t play rhythm, it doesn’t matter how great of a lead player you are,” Woods says of Rhoads, who emphasized “rhythm and feel.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here right now if it wasn’t for Randy teaching me.”

Growing up initially in Topanga Canyon, the first beat Shane learned to play was the thunderous drum fill from Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight.” Then came Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” and the Rolling Stones’ “Miss You.” By 13, he was spending hours each day practicing alone in the basement at his boarding school.

“There were no other kids that really played at the school, so I’d just sit down and play,” he says.

Shane grew up watching both Foo Fighters and Chevy Metal shows. “I’d sit behind my dad and watch him play and watch people just go crazy,” says Shane. “And as a kid, you think that’s the coolest thing in the world, because it is. It’s the best feeling.”

The band Chevy Metal — bassist Wiley Hodgden, left, drummer Shane Hawkins and guitarist Brent Woods — gestures downstairs at the Viper Room on the Sunset Strip.

(Steve Appleford)

Taylor’s home studio was built in a guest house behind his family’s home in Hidden Hills, a gated community on the northern edge of the San Fernando Valley. Inside, the walls are still covered with his guitars, posters, photographs and other relics from his favorite artists: Aerosmith, Rush, Bowie, Jane’s Addiction and Soundgarden.

The reborn Chevy Metal still rehearses in what Woods describes as Taylor’s “man cave.”

“He put a lot of work into making this room what it is right now,” says Shane. “I remember him precisely making sure every picture was hung up in the exact place. And every banner was hung perfectly and every speaker was placed perfectly for your ear.”

The band recorded a lot of songs here with Taylor, and they hope to release some of that material from the vault. They plan on more recording with his son.

Before Shane graduated high school, the last time Chevy Metal played a hometown show was at the Viper Room on New Year’s Eve. It was also a gathering of rock ’n’ roll families, as second-generation musicians took turns onstage with Chevy Metal, representing the offspring of Guns ‘N Roses, Jane’s Addiction and Anthrax.

During the sound check, the band ran through songs by U2 and Foreigner, and Shane hammered the drums at full volume. Afterward, he was chatting with Scott Ian, who advised him: “You never want to be great at dress rehearsal. You want to be good at dress rehearsal, and then be great at the show.”

Shane nodded, but for now, he says he can only play at one level: loud.

As Shane sat in the dressing room before Chevy Metal’s set, Jane’s Addiction drummer Stephen Perkins walked in, asking, “Where’s the drummer?” Then he spotted Shane, smiled, grabbed his hand and said, “There he is!”

OLIVIA Attwood has sparked engagement rumours to Pete Wicks after she was spotted wearing a band on her ring finger.

Olivia and Pete’s eight-year-long friendship recently developed into a romantic relationship, and now it looks like their bond has heated up even further.

Olivia has been seen outside a studio in North London sporting a band on her engagement finger.

This comes after she got her ring finger tattooed in dedication to Pete.

The star had her latest inking was done by an artist booked for the launch of her new cocktail brand, Savano.

After she got her inking and showed it off recently, one fan commented beneath the uploaded snap: “This is sooo for @p_wicks01.”

ATTA GIRL

Olivia Attwood takes new swipe at ex Bradley Dack as she shares sweary rant

cosmetic clash

Pete Wicks takes on Olivia Attwood with a rival show on extreme treatments

Olivia was previously married to footballer Bradley Dack however it has since been revealed that the marriage was not legally binding.

Romance rumours about her and Pete being in a relationship first surfaced in March.

The rumours were sparked when Olivia, 35, and Pete, 37, were spotted kissing during a night out at rooftop bar Flute.

Their smooch came just weeks after her split from Bradley became public.

Olivia recently revealed that the pair went from platonic to romantic “very quickly” after Pete confessed his feelings and made the first move following her split from Bradley.

Speaking to The Sun about Olivia and Pete’s relationship last month, a source revealed: “What they have right now is special.

“Because her other relationships have played out so publicly, she’s making a conscious effort to keep it close to her chest.

“She’s aware that in the industry she’s in, people want to know details, but this time she wants to keep something back, to herself.

“It’s serious and a more grown up relationship.”

Olivia had always downplayed her friendship with Pete, and even branded him “repulsive” two years before they got together.

The couple have shared subtle hints that they are now together, but are still keeping things on the downlow.

Pete has hard-launched their relationship a couple of times, but Liv’s approach is much more lowkey.

The show will go on for ZZ Top.

Last week, the blues rock band canceled its Hollywood Bowl concert because longtime drummer Frank Beard had health issues, Rolling Stone first reported.

That Aug. 5 Los Angeles concert was supposed to be the kickoff for the band’s the Big One tour. But a spokesperson for the band says that frontman Billy Gibbons and bassist Elwood Francis will continue the tour.

Michael Monahan will substitute for Beard for the remainder of the Big One, which will conclude its U.S. run on Oct. 9 in Port Wentworth, Ga.

The band has not said that it will reschedule the L.A. show, and all tickets, including transportation and parking passes, were being automatically refunded, according to the Hollywood Bowl.

Gibbons previously posted on Instagram that there were unexplained “insurmountable obstacles” leading to the band’s sudden cancellation at the Hollywood Bowl.

The band has released no details on Beard’s condition, although this is not the first time the drummer, 77, has faced health-related issues in his long tenure with the band. Beard joined ZZ Top in 1969, soon after the band formed, replacing founding drummer Dan Mitchell.

In March 2025, the Texan trio announced via its Instagram that Beard would temporarily step away from the band’s Elevation tour to tend to a health issue, which was later revealed to be foot and ankle problems. John Douglas — a longtime tech member, percussionist and drummer — replaced Beard in the interim, having done so previously when the veteran drummer underwent an emergency appendectomy in 2002.

In ZZ Top’s early days — following the release of the 1976 album “Tejas” — Beard dealt with issues related to substance abuse that led to the band’s three-year hiatus, which he and his bandmates opened up about in the 2019 documentary “ZZ Top: That Little Ol’ Band From Texas.”

“Frank goes all out on what he does and that includes the bad things,” bandmate Dusty Hill, who died in 2021, said in the documentary. “He was sick. If you’re a very good friend, you love a guy, you don’t want to see him die. You just want to see your brother get well.”

The Grammy-nominated band, which formed in Houston, is known for its edgy blues twang in popular singles including “La Grange” and “Tush” and across 15 studio albums. In November, ZZ Top will close out the Big One tour with eight performances across Mexico and South America.

For San Francisco fans of Lionel Richie and Earth, Wind & Fire, the party at Chase Center ended before it even started.

Earth, Wind & Fire abruptly called off its concert at the NorCal venue on Thursday, notifying fans in a social media statement that the cancellation was “due to a medical emergency involving a member of our band.” A spokesperson for the San Francisco Fire Department confirmed to The Times that personnel were dispatched at 5:30 p.m. to respond to a medical emergency at Chase Center. One person was transported to a hospital via private ambulance, but the individual’s identity was not disclosed. TMZ reported that the Fire Department responded to a “cardiac incident.”

A representative for Earth, Wind & Fire did not provide additional details. The band said in its post that it has rescheduled Thursday’s show for a later date to be announced soon and that tickets will be valid for the new date. “We sincerely apologize for the unexpected change and appreciate everyone’s understanding,” the band said.

Live Nation announced Richie and Earth, Wind & Fire’s joint Sing a Song All Night Long tour in January. The tour kicked off in June but quickly hit a snag when Richie also suffered an unspecified health issue while on the road. Richie, 77, postponed a stop at Chicago’s United Center and another show at the Schottenstein Center in Columbus, Ohio, after he brought his first tour stop to an abrupt end.

The Grammy-winning hitmaker of “Hello” and “Say You, Say Me” unexpectedly stopped the concert at the Grand Casino Arena in St. Paul, Minn., after taking a seat on stage multiple times during his performance of “Dancing on the Ceiling” and telling his audience he felt “dizzy,” according to videos shared on social media.

“When you are feeling dizzy, sit your a— down,” he joked, according to video a fan posted to TikTok. “When you are feeling strange about yourself, sit your a— down.”

TMZ reported at the time that the singer-songwriter was hospitalized after the health scare. Paramedics reportedly met the artist backstage and transported him to a nearby hospital out of precaution. In a statement following the incident, Richie thanked fans for their support and informed them, “I’m doing well, and I’m grateful for all of you.”

The Sing a Song All Night Long tour is slated to continue Saturday at Acrisure Arena in Palm Desert. Richie and Earth, Wind & Fire are scheduled to play the Intuit Dome in Inglewood on Sunday. The tour ends Aug. 14 at the Moody Center in Austin, Texas.

Susanna Hoffs calls it “the list”: a faded piece of paper ripped from a Filofax day planner on which are scrawled the names of every guy she’s ever gone out with — some famous, some not, some “kind of douchey,” as she puts it with a what-can-you-do shrug.

“It was like a dating profile but pre-internet,” Hoffs says of the tally, which she composed sometime in the late 1980s as she was racking up hits — among them the chart-topping “Walk Like an Egyptian” and “Eternal Flame” — as the frontwoman of the Bangles. “I’m a nice Jewish girl,” she adds. “I was just keeping track, doing my homework.”

Today at the bottom of the list in all caps sits the name of Jay Roach, the movie director whom Hoffs met on a blind date in 1991. He’s the subject of a new song called “None of Them Were You,” in which the singer runs down some of Roach’s predecessors — “a very dapper Brit,” “a suave and handsome actor” — before musing on her deep connection with the man to whom she’s now been married for 33 years.

“I ended up with such a good guy,” she says. “It almost brings a tear to the eye.”

“None of Them Were You” isn’t the only tune with that potential on an album Hoffs is preparing to release next month. Due Sept. 18 from her Baroque Folk label, “The List” — Hoffs’ first set of original material in more than a decade — collects a dozen touching and witty songs based on tales from her life as an artist, wife, businessperson and mother. At 67, her winsome singing voice is remarkably unchanged from the era of big hair and dangly earrings. Yet the music reflects an emotional wisdom that had to be earned through experience, as in the folky “Time,” which ponders her and Roach’s relationships with their two adult sons.

“I see you dancing in the kitchen / I feel your tiny hand in mine,” she sings, “What if you fly back home this summer? / We could spend a little while.” (Beware, parents — this one will wreck you.)

A voluble presence with an easy laugh, Hoffs points out that she’s hardly been “hiding in a cave” since 2012’s “Someday.” In 2024, she put out a long-shelved solo record of songs she’d cut back in 1999; before that, she made a series of expertly curated covers albums, including three she recorded with the power-pop maestro Matthew Sweet. But publishing her first novel in 2023 — “This Bird Has Flown,” a charming bestseller about a one-hit wonder looking for a comeback — rejuvenated Hoffs’ devotion to songwriting.

“I never thought the book would sell, and I never thought it would get great reviews,” she says on a recent afternoon at her home in Brentwood. “That was a big turn career-wise.”

For “The List,” Hoffs teamed with CJ Camerieri, a musician and producer known for his work with Paul Simon and Bon Iver, among others; Camerieri in turn recruited an array of songwriters to collaborate with the two of them, including a couple of Grammy winners in Dan Wilson and Jesse Harris.

“Sue has built up decades and decades of goodwill in this town,” Camerieri says, seated next to Hoffs on a sofa, “so you call up somebody like Dan and you say, ‘Hey, you want to write a song with Susanna Hoffs?’ and he goes, ‘Great, yeah, I’m in.’”

The process was simple, the producer explains: “We’d start in Sue’s kitchen with coffee at 10 in the morning —”

“I’m really good at coffee,” Hoffs interjects. “I mean, I use Nespresso. But I’m good at being a hostess to all the lads.”

“So I’d give everybody a yellow legal pad and Sue would start telling stories,” Camerieri continues. “We’re all scribbling notes, and after about an hour, we’d go, ‘I think we got enough here,’ and we’d go write songs about what she’d told us.”

They recorded at Hoffs’ place — “We’d move this couch and the drums would go right here,” she says — beneath a vaulted ceiling that provided just the right ambience. First-call players like Greg Leisz and Wendy Melvoin stopped by to take part in the sessions; for harmony vocals in a country-ish ditty called “Bad Case of Loneliness,” they got Rufus Wainwright, with whom Hoffs had done a version of the Turtles’ “Happy Together” for Roach’s 2025 comedy “The Roses.”

The dreamy-rootsy arrangements are never less than handsome — and never prettier than in “Fool,” which Hoffs says was inspired by her love of the records Dionne Warwick and Burt Bacharach made together. Yet “The List” was built to showcase Hoffs’ rich storytelling.

The LP opens with “Casablanca,” in which she recounts a run-in with the Grateful Dead’s Bob Weir in New Orleans in the late ’80s. The Bangles were on tour opening for George Michael; the Dead had a gig at the University of New Orleans’ Lakefront Arena. After Hoffs and Weir ended up at a crawfish boil put on by the Neville Brothers, the two took a walk along Lake Pontchartrain — “He was very cute,” Hoffs says — then later strolled again through the French Quarter.

“At one point, I looked back and there was a sea of Deadheads who realized it was Bob Weir,” she says. “But I was with him. I got to be his pal, which I just couldn’t believe was happening. It was delicious.” (Between the two walks, the Bangles famously jumped onstage with the Dead to perform “Iko Iko.”)

As we’re talking, Camerieri tells Hoffs that he recently met Weir’s former tour manager — Weir died in January at age 78 — and that he’d relayed Hoffs’ memory of the encounter. “He was like, ‘I know this story,’” Camerieri says the manager replied. “‘Bob used to talk about the time he got to walk around New Orleans with Susanna Hoffs.’”

“Oh my God!” Hoffs says, eyes starting to glisten. “So it meant something to him too.”

Bookending “The List” is “What Are Wings For,” a stately ballad about sticking to one’s guns that Hoffs and Camerieri wrote with Edie Brickell, who’s married to Simon, on a trip they took to the couple’s ranch in Texas.

“We were there during the World Series [in 2024],” Camerieri recalls, “and we watched the Yankees game with Paul every night after working on songs.”

Adds Hoffs with a laugh: “He also told me that he thinks the Bangles’ version of ‘Hazy Shade of Winter’ is better than his. I was like, ‘Please don’t — yours is the iconic version.’”

By the time the Bangles covered that Simon & Garfunkel tune for the soundtrack to 1987’s “Less Than Zero,” the band was already a fixture on the radio and MTV. Hoffs formed the group in 1981 with sisters Vicki and Debbi Peterson, who learned to play together in the garage of Hoffs’ parents’ house, just a few blocks from where the singer lives today.

The Bangles came up through L.A.’s ’60s-steeped Paisley Underground scene and found stardom after the addition of Michael Steele with “Manic Monday,” a sparkling pop-rock gem gifted to the band by Prince. (Beyond her list of boyfriends, one of Hoffs’ prized possessions from back in the day is Prince’s original cassette demo of “Manic Monday.”)

“He was brilliant but mischievous,” Hoffs says of the late trailblazer, on whom she modeled the character of Jonesy from her novel. “I remember one time he invited us to Sunset Sound in the middle of the night. We get there and we’re jamming, then suddenly we look around and he’s disappeared. ‘OK, I guess we’re done.’”

The Bangles with an assortment of music execs in Los Angeles in 1987.

(Lester Cohen / Getty Images)

After eight Top 40 singles and a triple-platinum LP, the Bangles split in 1989 amid differing ideas about the band’s creative direction and ambitions. The members pursued solo and other projects but reunited to record a song for 1999’s “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me,” which Roach directed; two more Bangles albums followed in 2003 and 2011, the second minus Steele, whom Hoffs says she’s not in touch with at the moment.

Compared to the Go-Go’s, whose parallel career was detailed in a 2020 documentary and who were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame a year later, the Bangles haven’t quite cemented their legacy, though an authorized biography came out last year and a doc is currently in development.

Yet Hoffs doesn’t seem especially troubled by the possibility that the Bangles might be underappreciated, perhaps because she’s got plenty of her own stuff going on. Before “The List” comes out, she’ll play her old hits in a Sept. 5 gig at Largo at the Coronet and in a handful of dates opening for Billy Idol; after the new album drops, she’ll head east for a residency at New York’s Café Carlyle.

She and Camerieri are also at work on a musical adaptation of “This Bird Has Flown” for the stage or the screen. And just the other day she found a folder on her computer full of songs she wrote years ago with her friend Marvin Etzioni of Lone Justice.

“I don’t like using the word ‘bucket list,’ but all these things are labors of love,” Hoffs says.

What’s the trouble with “bucket list”?

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, smiling. “It just seems, like, death-y.”

The U.K. electronic band Massive Attack has been banned from Singapore because of its pro-Palestinian activism onstage, the group said.

The group unfurled a Palestinian flag during a performance at the Star Theatre in Singapore on July 29. The band said police detained them after the show, and that an investigation led to the band being forbidden from performing in the country.

The nation of Singapore has strict laws against displaying foreign flags or national symbols without a permit.

Massive Attack, which consists of Robert “3D” Del Naja and Grant “Daddy G” Marshall, described the event as a “surreal experience” in a post on Instagram.

“We were surprised and disappointed that our entire band was detained by the police, isolated and separately questioned – with some members subjected to hotel room searches and temporary passport confiscation,” it read.

“Before we set foot on the stage and again at the end of the show, large sections of the auditorium organically led chants of ‘Free Palestine’, presumably aware but undeterred that this spontaneous expression alone could violate their government’s censorship laws.”

“For our part,” the statement continued, “we did not imagine that merely holding up the flag of a sovereign state recognised by 157 countries would violate any law.”

In a statement issued Saturday, cited by the Guardian, Singapore police and the local Infocomm Media Development Authority said that Del Naja and Marshall had been investigated for “their actions of support for a political cause and unfurling of a foreign flag,” violating Singapore’s Foreign National Emblems (Control of Display) Act and the Public Order Act.

The police said they “take a serious view of acts which could potentially harm the racial and religious harmony in Singapore and urge the public, including foreigners, to refrain from importing foreign politics as this can undermine our social cohesion and the rule of law.”

The statement said Del Naja and Marshall would “be banned from re-entering Singapore” and are forbidden from performing there again.

The band did not back down from its onstage gesture or its longstanding pro-Palestinian activism, stating that “On reflection, we are proud to have made this impromptu expression with our fans in Singapore who clearly felt a moral imperative to show solidarity with the people of Palestine in their ongoing reality of illegal occupation, apartheid and genocide, and we salute their courage in doing so. Right across the world, the continued inaction of the ‘international community’ is moving citizens to personal risk.”

Del Naja was recently arrested at a recent protest in support of the group Palestine Action in London.

Jared Leto faces allegations of criminal sexual conduct by several women who allege the sexual incidents with the musician and Oscar-winning actor occurred when he was in his 30s and 40s and they were teenagers.

In a BBC documentary titled “Jared Leto: Hollywood’s Dark Secret,” multiple women spoke about their experiences with the “House of Gucci” star and Thirty Seconds to Mars frontman, detailing allegations of inappropriate text messages, sexual assault and statutory rape from 2002 to 2016. Among the allegations, one woman said she was 17 years old when Leto sexually assaulted her in a motel bathroom. Another woman alleges Leto continued to sexually pursue her in Los Angeles despite knowing she was 17 years old, younger than the age of consent in California.

Leto, in a statement shared with The Times on Wednesday, denied the allegations raised by the BBC documentary: “I have never sexually assaulted anyone in my entire life,” he said. “These claims are absolutely and categorically false.”

Journalist and documentarian Jessica Sartenaer said in the segment published Wednesday that the BBC began its investigation into allegations against Leto after noting an Instagram story from a prominent DJ based in Los Angeles. In a since-expired Instagram story, DJ Allie Teilz, resurfaced a 2012 Facebook post in which she accused Leto of trying to “force himself” onto her backstage at a concert. Teilz captioned her repost: “Jared Leto was a creep then..still a creep now, going on 15+ years of being Hollywood’s most persistent predator,” according to the BBC documentary.

Numerous social media users reportedly responded to Teilz’s posts with their own claims about Leto’s alleged predatory behavior, many noting they were subject to Leto’s misconduct when they were teens. A woman identified as “Etta” told the BBC she was 14 when Leto approached her outside of a modeling agency and invited her to an Oscars party. Etta provided email correspondences to the outlet and said the “Morbius” actor encouraged her to stay in contact via text after the invite. Text messages turned into phone calls and conversations about her modeling career quickly turned sexual, according to the documentary. Leto allegedly asked Etta about her virginity, her kinks and sexual capabilities.

Etta said in the documentary that Leto’s legal team allegedly contacted her and urged her to sign a nondisclosure agreement about her relationship with the actor, though she never did.

The documentary portrays Leto as a celebrity who leveraged his fame to connect with young fans and control them. The woman who alleged she was sexually assaulted by Leto at age 17 in a motel bathroom told the BBC she met Leto in 2002 at a mall in Las Vegas. Leto would have been in his early 30s at the time. He invited her to meet him at a nearby motel. She waited in the room while he stepped into the shower, but he eventually called her over and began kissing her, according to the BBC. The woman, identified as “Isabelle,” accused Leto of forcing her hand to his genitals and using her hand to masturbate. Isabelle pulled away and moved to leave the room, but Leto allegedly looked outside the motel room for any potential bystanders before letting her out, she recalled to the BBC.

The BBC also published allegations by “Clara,” the woman who said Leto knowingly had sex with her when she was 17 — he was 34 at the time — at his house in California. Clara said she connected with Leto after his associate requested her phone number. She and her friend were invited to spend time with the band at the Chateau Marmont in Hollywood, where the age of consent of California became a topic of conversation. Leto, who allegedly shrugged off the conversation, invited Clara and her friend back to his home and told the friend to wait in another room while he had sex with Clara. Clara visited Leto’s home a total of three or four times, according to the BBC. She also alleged that Leto often requested that she call him “daddy” and that she pretend to be a little girl.

Leto in 2013 allegedly invited another woman, named Alex, to his band’s concert at London’s O2 and to an after-party. She was 19 at the time but told Leto she was younger out of a need to protect herself, the BBC reported. Leto allegedly replied: “Age is just a number, and anyway, we’re in Europe.” Alex alleges Leto threatened to sexually assault her in a hotel room later that evening.

The BBC also spoke to men who who worked closely with Leto’s band, Thirty Seconds to Mars. One man said Leto was often texting girls to invite them to spend time with the band. Leto also allegedly asserted control by ignoring the girls he invited and speaking to them rudely. The man also recalled that Leto took one fan, who was dropped off by her parents, “off to the bedroom.” Afterward, she called her parents to pick her up.

Leto has long faced quiet scrutiny for his alleged behavior with women and girls. In 2005 the New York Post published a story accusing the actor of “aggressively pursuing many” teen models. Last year Air Mail published accusations against Leto of impropriety by nine women, though he denied those claims at the time.

Still, the actor-musician has moved on from those allegations seemingly unscathed. Leto, who won his Oscar in 2014 for “Dallas Buyers Club,” most recently appeared in “Masters of the Universe” and is set to tour with his band next year.

Twenty-five years after “Is This It,” the Strokes are as big as they’ve ever been — and not just among old heads eager to relive the wasted glamour of the early-2000s garage rock revival. Go to a Strokes gig these days — they’re playing arenas and headlining festivals like next month’s Just Like Heaven in Pasadena — and you’ll find teens and twentysomethings in the audience; open up Instagram and there’s frontman Julian Casablancas dispensing viral hot takes on the New York City subway. On Spotify, the band’s most-streamed song isn’t the Giuliani-era “Last Nite” but “The Adults Are Talking,” which came out at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic — a feat of cultural endurance unmatched by any of the Strokes’ Gen X or millennial peers.

So what better time to drop a new album full of arcane jokes, baffling vocal affects and light conspiracy theorizing?

The group’s first LP since 2020’s Grammy-winning “The New Abnormal,” “Reality Awaits” is easily the nuttiest entry in the Strokes’ catalog, with a spooky opening track, “Psycho S—,” in which Casablancas, his voice slathered in AutoTune, ushers the listener “past the hall of judging dead into the bed of nightly dread.” (Sexy!) “Falling Out of Love” is a lilting robo-country ballad about dancing alone under acid rain; “Liar’s Remorse” is a voice-and-guitar lament about submitting to artificial intelligence that Casablancas croons for some reason in a terrible Caribbean accent.

Then there’s “Lonely in the Future,” in which Casablancas name-drops John Legend and Josh Groban, appears to ding Harry Styles for cribbing the beat from the Strokes’ “Hard to Explain” and informs Anthony Fantano, the popular internet music critic, that he “would not recognize art in any age.”

Philosophically, “Reality Awaits” feels less like a Strokes album than like a Casablancas solo record or an effort by his other band, the Voidz, which he’s used for the last decade or so as a kind of finsta for his harder-edged sociopolitical musings. “Going Shopping,” the LP’s lead single, casts a condescending eye on anyone insufficiently troubled by what the singer views as the creeping tyranny of a super-rich ruling class: “The worse reality gets, the less you want to hear about it / Solidarity can be difficult when you got cool stuff to lose.” That “Going Shopping” is the album’s jauntiest cut — with a music video that restages Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al,” no less — only sharpens the critique.

Yet every now and then the Strokes, who absolutely ripped at Coachella in April, lock into a groove with the springy precision that’s been the band’s signature since the beginning. “Dine N’ Dash,” “Going to Babble On,” “Lonely in the Future” — it’s pure pleasure to hear the guitars in these songs slashing away over a rhythm section as crisp and nimble as this one. For all they’ve absorbed from their forbears, the Strokes don’t sound like anybody else, even when they seem to be trying to, as in “The Fruits of Conquest,” which suggests early Maroon 5 having a go at the Rolling Stones’ “Miss You.” (Obviously, I mean this as a compliment.)

You can view the indelibility of the Strokes’ style as the reason the band makes so many wacky decisions on “Reality Awaits”; looked at differently, the band is taking advantage of its persistent success to spend a bit of creative capital. Either way, Casablancas doesn’t actually seem worried at all in “Going Shopping” when he voices some anxiety about how long he can continue to matter. “I’ve been thinking about what I want to say,” he sings, “But I’m an old man now — at least that’s what they tell me anyway.”

On Saturday at Dodger Stadium, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Fuerza Regida took center stage for a career-defining show, delivering cinematic time-travel segments and hints of off-stage controversy.

The Mexican American band joined an illustrious list of legendary acts — Elton John, the Beatles, Michael Jackson and Beyoncé to name a few — to perform at the iconic venue built on Chavez Ravine, the shallow canyon that served as home to thousands of Mexican American families forcibly displaced in the 1950s for the sake of progress.

In June, the San Bernardino quintet kicked off its This Is Our Dream stadium tour across nine U.S. cities to close out its manifestation project “111xpantia.” The 2025 LP peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 in May 2025, becoming the highest-charting Spanish language album by a duo of band ever. It also comes a year after the band sold out the Madison Square Garden and the Hollywood Bowl in consecutive nights.

But the stadium tour — which will end Aug. 7 in New York’s Citi Field — does more than showcase the band’s recent mainstream success. It honors the years of grit it took to get there.

“It’s proof that dreams are worth chasing, fighting for, even when it feels hard or impossible,” said Khrystian Ramos, the band’s rhythm guitarist.

As part of the set design, a massive prop car stereo was affixed atop the stage. Inspired by the 1985 film “Back to the Future,” it doubled as a time traveling machine. But instead of a DeLorean, the band opted for a Chevrolet 454 SS pickup truck, a car that symbolizes the American dream for lead singer Jesús Ortiz Paz, better known as JOP, and is largely associated with the group’s corrido forefather, the late Chalino Sanchez.

The first stop in Fuerza Regida‘s journey to the past was 2018, as the band performed its breakthrough hit, “Radicamos En South Central,” a song about gradually building a drug empire that went viral on YouTube. Shortly after its release, the band signed with independent label Rancho Humilde and followed up with “Sigo Chambeando,” a bouncy corrido that embodies the band’s “never stop hustling” ethos.

It’s a mindset that has served them well.

The more than a decade-long road to selling out Dodger Stadium certainly wasn’t easy for the corrido tumbado band, which formed in 2015 and first built a fan base by performing cover songs at local parties across the Inland Empire. .

Jose “Pelon” Garcia, left, Jesus Ortiz Paz and Khrystian Ramos of Fuerza Regida perform during their This Is Our Dream Stadium tour at Dodger Stadium on July 18 in Los Angeles.

(Carlin Stiehl/For De Los)

“We got kicked out of a gig one time. The guy literally told us that he didn’t like our music,” said Ramos. “That drive home was a key moment in our career.  It showed us that it’s not all stars and rainbows.”

Ramos started the band alongside the band’s 12-string guitarist, Samuel Jáimez. The two met at martial arts school as kids and kept in touch in the years that followed, jamming out together after their 9 to 5 .

The band’s name was originally Raimez — a portmanteau of Ramos and Jáimez— but was later changed to accomodate the arrival of lead singer JOP.

“I remember exactly [where we came up with the name]. We’re driving down the 10 passing Mount Vernon Avenue,” said Ramos. “Fuerza Regida, a  governing force. Wherever you step, the presence is felt.”

That certainly was the case on that warm July evening as the more than 56,000 fans in attendance chanted the band’s name in unison.

“Not in a thousand years, I didn’t see it until it crept up. It was like alcohol,” said Jáimez about the band’s global success.

Sousaphone player José García, also known as Pelon, never imagined that leaving behind a steady job to pursue his musical dreams would pan out like this.

“I worked in construction Monday through Friday and we had gigs with Fuerza Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I practically had two jobs,” said García. “I had life insurance. I had benefits, 401(k), all that. So I left a really good job so I could join Fuerza Regida.”

In 2022, the band added its fifth member, Moisés López, who plays the tololoche — a small upright bass. López, who contributed to the 2020 track “Vamos Bien” as a bass player, said that JOP had asked him to learn the instrument if he wanted to stay with the group. “He bought me it. I picked it up real quick and from there it’s history.”

Jesus Ortiz Paz, left, and Moises Lopez of Fuerza Regida perform during their This Is Our Dream stadium tour at Dodger Stadium on July 18 in Los Angeles.

(Carlin Stiehl/For De Los)

At the concert, the time machine took attendees back to 2022, Fuerza Regida’s bélico era marked by the corridos “Billete Grande” and “Igualito A Mi Apá” as well as its gentler viral hit “Bebe Dame,” the first Fuerza Regida song to reach the Billboard 100, peaking at No. 25.

“We went from clubs to theaters to arenas. I’ve never thought we would get this far,” said López. “We’ve always said hard work beats talent.”

But it isn’t just drive that has shaped Fuerza Regida’s career — time and time again, the band has proved to be adaptable and experimental, always evolving its sound and drawing from a wide range of influences.

2023 saw the release of “Pa Las Baby’s y Belikeada,” a party record that fuses trap, pop and EDM, and features the player anthems “TQM” and “Sabor Fresa”; to complement the womanizer themes of the record, there was a baddie camera on stage, which panned to women in the audience.

As the band sang its 2023 ballad “Una Cerveza” — a song about getting drunk to forget a lost love— a girl across my way called her ex and lifted her phone up in the air so that he could hear its heartbreaking lyrics. Then she hung up.

The Dodger Stadium show felt like a massive celebration, not just for the band but for música mexicana as a whole. Special guest performances throughout the night included Los Gemelos de Sinaloa, Calle 24, Chino Pacas, Clave Especial and Chuyin — acts that have helped fuel the meteoric rise of the genre.

“I’m proud and grateful that la raza is finally doing it. We’re here to stay,” Jaimez said.

Though the show focused on Fuerza Regida’s past, there were also hints of what’s to come. The band’s relationship with its record label Rancho Humilde has become acrimonious and litigious. In recent months, JOP has repeatedly accused founder Jimmy Humilde of withholding royalties and sabotaging the band. In turn, the record mogul has claimed that the band is not fulfilling its contractual obligations. A bitter divorce feels imminent.

“The internet tells a lot of lies. False news. That supposedly someone won a lawsuit. But that lawsuit is still underway and we know who will win,” JOP told the audience before singing “Triston,” a track released at the start of 2026 that was immediately pulled from the streamers. “They took this song off the platform but they can’t stop us from singing the song here.”

Kevin Lyman has always lived life on the move. For years it was a symptom of working to keep up with Warped Tour, a punk rock circus on wheels. Since bringing the festival back last year to celebrate its 30-year anniversary, he’s switched his mode of transport from buses to planes. What started as a two-month tour across the U.S. and parts of Canada is now a strategically placed, five-date extravaganza starting this weekend in Long Beach. With stops in Montreal, Mexico City, Orlando and Washington, the tour has gotten bigger with the partnership of EDM promoter Insomniac but Lyman insists that the soul of it remains the same.

Thriving on a mix of punk, emo, ska, hardcore, metal and action sports, Warped has become an entry point to festival culture for a new generation of fans, requiring Lyman to always move forward in his musical tastes while still trying to stay true to the essence of what made Warped more of a community than just an annual event.

Recently he chatted with The Times to discuss the process of continuing the fest’s revival and why it’s still a vital part of the summer festival ecosystem.

What were your initial thoughts after Warped Tour’s big comeback in Long Beach last year?

I was really nervous. To be honest, I knew I had one shot at getting it right. I knew there were going to be bigger stages, we were going to have video and lights, but I also knew that I had to make it feel like Warped Tour between the performances. So that little bit of controlled chaos we had between the stages — the merch tents, all the sponsorship booths, the skate ramps, the surprises we threw out each day — I think it was mission accomplished. The feedback overall has been fantastic from the fans. For some people closer to my age demo, maybe it was a little too much — their feet hurt. But Warped came back strong, we went back on sale [for 2026] fairly quickly, and to still have 50% of the people buy the tickets right away without knowing a band on the bill yet was great.

Jimmy Eat World is doing like their 25th anniversary of “Bleed American” at the fest this year. What does it mean to you to have some of those early Warped Tour bands like that on the bill again?

It felt good to have a lot of those bands. For me, one of the more emotional ones last year was Rise Against. They had such a big moment. They were such a part of Warped Tour, and you get them to come back and then watch that crowd, every phone went up in the crowd, and probably 50% of the people there had never seen them before.

“I’ve been a disruptor, and the disruption I’ve caused has attracted enough people. Now we’re a niche of people,” Lyman says. “Warped is a great niche.”

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You’ve always had your own way of doing things that created the culture of Warped Tour. Why do you feel it is still so vital in the festival ecosystem today?

I had to carve a niche out for myself in the industry. I was never going to really quite conform. I kind of came from that rebellious spirit that Goldenvoice instilled in me back in the ‘80s when I worked for them, and Gary Tovar was rebellious. So I’ve always kind of had that mentality of, “Hey, let’s go against the norm. Let’s make it something our own.” And even when I’m teaching at USC now, I say you have to learn the foundations of every business. And those foundations, to me, were working 12 years in the clubs of L.A., 320 nights a year, and then you have to make something your own. I always say when you decide to go for it — go for it. And I did, and it seemed to connect with enough people and resonated with enough people that I’d been around that said, “Wow, this is different. He needs to work on it. But instead of knocking him down, let’s support him.”… I’ve been a disruptor, and the disruption I’ve caused has attracted enough people. Now we’re a niche of people. Warped is a great niche.

How did you keep Warped on people’s minds year-round while you were planning it out this year?

That was a challenge because before we used to have the two-month tour, so we were able to build community to keep the conversation going. Community is a big driver for me. Everything we’re doing now is investing in the community, and I think it’s working. [In January] we had a downtown Long Beach event with the band Holy Wars, we had an event in Orlando. We had one event in a fraternity house backyard in Virginia, we had events in Mexico City and Montreal … canned food drives, blood drives or, you know, register to vote. We’ll drop those kind of events so we’re constantly in everyone’s mindset. And it’s not about monetizing. I think people are always asking “How do you monetize the superfan?” I’m like, “How do you reward them?” Giving people a free Sunday afternoon event in Long Beach, that’s a thank you. Those are the people that are going to spread the word when you post a video, they’re going to share it with all their friends, and then they’re going to be telling kids at their schools. A third of the people going to Warped had never been to a festival or even a concert before, so we need to engage them in a different way.

What are your ways of scouting out bands you want to take a chance on when booking the festival?

Well, I have a great booker named Amanda Phelan. She books with me, so she’s kind of that on the ground talking to the agents and things. I don’t necessarily do that much anymore. I talk to them, but my part is more like, “Oh, I want to see what bands other bands are talking about, or young people are talking about.” And then I’m also talking to lots of the independent promoters out there that you know I used to work with.

Why do you think younger generation of fest goers will keep discovering Warped Tour?

We used to be that festival where you know it was over by sunset, your mom could pick you up at the curb or you could get home by dark, and then you went off to other festivals. We were your entry point to festivals. We may be that entry point again, but a lot of it now will come down to price point. We know the economics of Warped Tour are conducive for people that want to go on two levels: ones that want to come and explore a festival, and other ones, maybe some of your peers, who don’t get to go out every night and see bands anymore because they all have real jobs and things. But they can go for one for two days and catch up on all music, which makes you feel like you’re staying young.

In the Mid-City neighborhood where Syd grew up, lots of people now refer to this 34-year-old musician as the mayor.

“During COVID, I’d spend all day on the grass waving at everybody,” she says with a laugh. More recently, a bunch of “unruly teenagers,” as Syd describes them, have been doing doughnuts in the street near her parents’ house.

“I’m out there talking about, ‘Hey! Stop!’ I had one of my trucks parked in front, so I was like, ‘Y’all ain’t finna mess my s— up.’ But also they were hanging out the window — it was really dangerous.” She laughs again.

“I’m an old head when it comes to safety.”

Syd’s new album happily embraces a sense of maturity — of “feeling more sure of myself than I ever have,” she says. Released last week, “Beard” — the title was inspired by Syd’s wife’s request that she maintain the peach fuzz on her upper lip — sets thoughts of romantic commitment and professional achievement against gleaming R&B grooves that occasionally nod toward Afrobeats or bossa nova. It’s Syd’s third solo LP since she emerged nearly two decades ago as a member of the Los Angeles hip-hop collective Odd Future; it also comes eight years after her most recent album with the Internet, the Grammy-nominated soul-music combo she shares with Matt Martians and Steve Lacy (the latter of whom dropped his new “Oh Yeah?” on the same day Syd dropped “Beard”).

Yet for all the growing up she’s done, “ironically, I feel younger than I’ve ever felt,” Syd says. “Beard’s” blurry cover photo, which shows her shaved head and slightly doleful eyes, “captures exactly what I was trying to portray with the music,” she adds. “It’s kind of this nonbinary image, where if you’re looking at it and you don’t know who I am, you might wonder: Is that a 12-year-old boy?”

Syd and I are talking over coffee at a crowded spot on Jefferson Boulevard that she says she visits every day. (So many people say hi to her that I’m inclined to believe it.) The restaurant isn’t far from her house, which itself is just an eight-minute drive from her folks’ place; eventually, she says, her parents plan to swap homes with Syd and her wife, the model Simone Clay, so that the couple can fulfill their dream of becoming foster moms in the larger house.

“With all my privilege and with all the peace I’ve been able to create for myself, I would love to spread that,” says Syd, whose full name is Sydney Bennett and whose younger brother Travis (known as Taco) also came up through Odd Future before finding success as an actor.

Syd recorded “Beard” between a studio she built at her parents’ place and a studio in North Hollywood owned by Raphael Saadiq, the veteran R&B star whom Syd counts as something of a mentor. The singer says she can relate to the way Saadiq moves between making solo records, working in a band (in his case Tony! Toni! Toné!) and writing and producing for other artists, as Syd did on Beyoncé’s 2022 “Renaissance” album.

“Syd is just looking for things in music that are breathing,” says Saadiq, who plays bass and co-produced several cuts on “Beard.” “She keeps developing, and she’s not developing to be relevant — she’s developed because she loves doing it. People like Syd and myself, we’ve been at this since we were kids. We were the ones in the neighborhood who’d walk outside and say, ‘Anybody want to get on this track? Anybody want to play?’”

Songs on “Beard” like “Closet” and “My Love” reflect recent changes in Syd’s life, not least her decision to get hitched last year, which she attributes in part to an uncertainty about how long same-sex marriage will remain legal in the United States.

“You know the Supreme Court,” she says with a shrug.

She also quit drinking after realizing that she was waking up more often than not with a hangover. “People around me weren’t like, ‘She be drinking,’” Syd says. “But it was every day, and it was just at the crib. Everybody has a different relationship to it, and I found that mine was tied to boredom, which I think is probably better than it being tied to sadness. But that’s also what made it a little bit harder to call it a problem, you know what I mean? I had to realize: OK, this might not be a problem for someone else, but it’s not serving me.”

So two and a half years ago, she stopped — and on a holiday some can’t imagine without booze.

Says Syd: “I raw-dogged New Year’s Eve, bro.”

“Ironically, I feel younger than I’ve ever felt,” Syd says.

(Nabil)

“Beard” encompasses shifts in Syd’s business too. After fulfilling her contract with the Columbia label, the singer signed last year to Warner Records, where an old high school pal, Tim Hinshaw, oversees a boutique label called Free Lunch. The new deal inspired her to mix up her creative process and hold a songwriting camp with an assortment of writers and producers, among them the duo Nova Wav, who’ve also worked with Beyoncé; on “Beard,” the duo co-wrote and co-produced the hooky “Callin” and “Jasmin 17,” a lusty boudoir jam titled after the unisex fragrance. (Additional collaborators on the album include James Fauntleroy, Van Hunt, Rodney Jerkins, Big Sean and Jordan Ward.)

Given her high-profile gig writing and producing Beyoncé’s “Plastic Off the Sofa” — a sensual retro-soul number that went on to win a Grammy — I tell Syd that I assume the offers came rolling in immediately afterward to join other A-list acts in the studio.

“To be honest, that opportunity didn’t give me any more producing opportunities,” she answers, to my surprise. “Nobody was reaching out — like, ‘Hey, can I get beats?’” She’s not bothered, though, since what the experience did do was “give me the confidence to produce this album for myself.”

And anyway, she’s got a solo tour coming up, not to mention a long-awaited Internet LP to finish. The band has been recording intermittently at her place, and last month she spent a week working at Martians’ studio in rural Georgia.

“We’re closer than we’ve probably ever been,” Syd says of the band, whose drummer, Christoper Smith, put out yet another solo record on the same day as “Beard” and Lacy. Syd doesn’t want to reveal too much about the Internet’s new music. But she will say that so far the group has avoided using Auto-Tune, the vocal-processing software that she feels has become sadly ubiquitous.

“I want nuance, I want texture, I want the lack of perfection,” she says. “I’d rather mess up naturally than not mess up unnaturally.”

Tony Thorpe, the guitarist for the English glam-rock combo the Rubettes, has died. He was 80.

“It is with great sadness that we officially announce the passing of Anthony John Thorpe. He was a father to Clay, a husband to Shirle, a friend to many, and a mentor to countless musicians young and old,” read a statement posted to his Facebook page. “His recently failing health did little to diminish his fierce intellect and sharp sense of humour. He will leave an unfillable hole in the lives of all who knew him, or his music.”

The Rubettes formed in 1973 after a session-musician team cut several doo-wop inspired tracks including the single “Sugar Baby Love.” The song hit number one on the UK charts in 1974 when the band, known for its uniform of white suits, performed on Top of the Pops. The single also charted in the U.S. top 40 and became their best-known song, along with European hits including “Tonight,” “Juke Box Jive,” “I Can Do It.”

The band sold millions of singles, primarily in Europe, over its career. Thorpe sang lead on several songs in the band’s catalog, including the country-influenced single “Baby I Know.” He left the group in 1979, and the Rubettes continued to perform and record in various incarnations.

The Rubettes classic-lineup singer, Alan Williams, posted on the band’s official Facebook page, saying Thorpe was “Mercifully now at peace.”

“Dear Tony, our paths having crossed but fleetingly during which time was conceived wondrous music and often hilariously memorable moments. Your brilliance with the axe and the pen cannot be denied and remains with us, never forgotten. Rest now Cowboy.”

On stage at Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Colorado, a far cry from the sweaty basement punk shows of the band’s early days, Jimmy Eat World played breakthrough power pop hit “The Middle” as the sold-out crowd sang along with the final chorus that “everything will be all right, all right.”

“It really is incredible to us to think about everyone who bothered to spend time with this record and made something of it for themselves over 25 years. This is your guys’ record as much as it’s ours, really,” singer-guitarist Jim Adkins said from the stage.

The band, which has generally shied away from nostalgia plays over its 30-plus year career, is performing the platinum-selling “Bleed American” album in its entirety on tour this summer, including a stop at Warped Tour in Long Beach on Saturday, a matching bookend to the band’s original promotion of the album.

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“It solidified us as, ‘This is what we do. Let the day job go.’ It turned into full-time rock and roll. And that moment only happens once, so it felt appropriate to honor it at 25,” bassist Rick Burch said backstage before the band’s Brooklyn tour stop in June.

Released on July 24, 2001, “Bleed American” was one of the last great rock records of the monoculture, arriving months before Apple’s iPod launched and made shuffle the default and 15 years before streaming became the dominant way to consume music.

“When ‘Bleed American’ took off it was right at the transition of the internet,” says Jim Adkins.

(Evelyn Freja / For The Times)

A hit with Hollywood roots

Just over a quarter of a century ago, four guys from Mesa, Ariz., came to L.A. to record their fourth album.

Jimmy Eat World’s Adkins, Burch, drummer Zach Lind and guitarist Tom Linton earned recording money between tours by working construction, driving around car dealership customers and selling art supplies and auto parts.

The band had cut ties with Capitol Records after 1999’s “Clarity” — a sweeping, lush and highly influential work highly regarded by their contemporaries that would inspire third-wave emo superstars including My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy and Paramore — that the major label had no idea how to market, even after “Lucky Denver Mint” got pickup on L.A.’s alt rock tastemaker KROQ-FM.

“If that song would have been on ‘Bleed American,’ that would have been a No. 1 song,” said Jim Suptic, of Kansas-based second-wave emo band the Get Up Kids, who have been on the “Bleed American” anniversary run. Suptic said that he was inspired to start the band after seeing Jimmy Eat World live in the mid-’90s.

With the band’s tight budget, producer Mark Trombino, who produced “Clarity” and predecessor “Static Prevails,” worked with the band for free in L.A., banking on the future success of the album. After recording drums at Cherokee Studios, the band relocated to Harddrive Analog & Digital Recording in North Hollywood to make the bulk of “Bleed American.”

“The studio was so small, it didn’t have a lounge,” Lind recalled.

But there was a bus stop outside they used instead, where they would hang out with “an assortment of characters,” Adkins said.

He and Lind commuted to the Valley from Redondo Beach, where they crashed on the floor of Lind’s brother’s place. Linton fondly remembers the great food in the city and hanging out with friends in other bands while Burch spent downtime skateboarding in L.A.

Even without the cash or support from a label, recording “Bleed American” didn’t feel like a do-or-die moment for the band’s future.

“We just kind of figured we might have to go out and just release this ourselves. Let’s just do the best job we can, and be happy with what we put out,” Linton said.

But with the buzz growing around the new music, record labels came calling.

‘The Middle’ meets the moment

By the time the album dropped in July 2001, the guitar-heavy snarling title track of “Bleed American” had already been in regular rotation on alt-rock stations for a month.

After a stint on the Warped Tour, Jimmy Eat World set out on a U.S. headlining tour in the fall, with Hey Mercedes opening.

“I remember that tour in particular, them sort of really finding their confidence in their voice and their shows and their performance and the whole package. And this was before ‘The Middle’ really broke, but I could tell that they were really firing on all cylinders,” said Hey Mercedes singer-guitarist Bob Nanna, whose influential emo group Braid first played with Jimmy Eat World in 1998.

The album landed on the Billboard charts three weeks after its release, and while its peak position was 31, it remained on the chart for 70 weeks. (A couple of months after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, the name of the album was changed to “Jimmy Eat World” on pressings before reverting to the original title in 2008.)

“When ‘Bleed American’ took off it was right at the transition of the internet,” Adkins said.

By 2002, “Bleed American” was taking off due to the popularity of the song “The Middle.”

(Scott Gries / Getty Images)

The media landscape hadn’t yet transformed. Rock music magazines like Spin, NME, Alternative Press and Kerrang! were thriving. The band made the rounds on the late-night talk shows as “The Middle” video clip played on MTV’s popular show “Total Request Live.”

“Things hadn’t splintered out into a zillion niche locations just quite yet,” Adkins said.

By March 2002, “The Middle” had hit the Billboard charts, where it climbed to No. 5 by the summer and spent 33 weeks on the Hot 100.

“They were a real band that had a radio hit, and not a radio band reverse engineered,” the Get Up Kids’ Suptic said.

The success was surreal for the band members as they heard the song on the radio, in restaurants and the gym. Today, you can still summon an entire generation with the opening guitar melody.

“I understand why that song has resonated,” Lind said. “I think there’s a few themes in the album that resonate with people in times when things are going tough. You know, ‘The Middle’ is definitely one of those songs that so many people have found encouragement from, whether they’re dealing with a breakup or going through cancer.”

“It seems like one of those songs that people have used to feel better and I think that’s obviously really powerful.”

“It solidified us as, ‘This is what we do. Let the day job go.’ It turned into full-time rock and roll,” says bassist Rick Burch about the success of “Bleed American.”

(Evelyn Freja / For The Times)

Here we are now

But the fans selling out the tour dates around the U.S. know much more than the hits, singing along to the deep cuts after traveling hundreds of miles to get to the show, in some cases.

Fans traveled from states like Michigan and Texas for the tour kickoff at Red Rocks in Colorado.

Robie O’Donnell took the train up to New York from the Washington, D.C., area to take his 12-year-old daughter to her first Jimmy Eat World show. The Brooklyn show was his 25th after he discovered them in the late ‘90s from a recommendation on the Get Up Kids’ website.

Behind him in line hours before doors opened was Jane Kung, who was only 8 when “Bleed American” was released and got into it when she was in high school. She didn’t want to miss the chance to hear it live.

“The fact that so many people wanted to come see this is something I didn’t expect,” Adkins said about the tour.

The fans get a chance to geek out over the rarely-played deep cuts from the album, like “Your House,” which required a revamp because of the studio work on the song, and the live debut of “(Splash) Turn Twist,” which was on the Japanese import of the album. Even louder than the sing-along to “The Middle” is the call and response from the crowd on the album’s second-biggest hit, “Sweetness.”

“Having this piece that we’ve created be embraced by so many is a very accomplished feeling,” Burch said.

Nanna even ventured into the crowd after Hey Mercedes opened the Brooklyn show, singing along to “A Praise Chorus,” the band’s crunchy guitar-filled love letter to rock music, among others.

“The world is a tough, s— place now and to have these moments where everybody can sing along to something that’s just pure joy was really soul enriching,” he said.

OAKLAND — The 17th year of Mosswood Meltdown at Oakland’s Mosswood Park brought with it a parade of free-thinking freaks on stage and in the crowd that descended on a punker’s picnic paradise for its annual outing of 20 bands over three days last weekend.

Hosted by the pencil-mustachioed art film icon John Waters, it began with a “pre-party” that exploded with main-event energy courtesy of lo-fi indie rock heroes Pavement, along with Wednesday and Vivian Girls on Friday night. The main fest lineup, topped by underground legends Iggy Pop and Bikini Kill, brought wild music with a message of unity among generations of punks to the tree-lined stages surrounded by a city that knows how to throw a good-time rager while staying deathly serious about its musical taste. Here are 10 moments that stood out at this year’s fest.

John Waters hosted the entire weekend, bringing his cackle-inducing foul-mouthed band intros to nearly every set at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

Saturday

Singer/guitarist Toyozo (Yusuke Toyoshima)of The Fadeaways at Mosswood Meltdown

(Dick Slaughter)

The Fadeaways stand out early

Performing Saturday in Mosswood Park was a homecoming for Japanese revival rockers the Fadeaways. It was barely a year ago that they played a guerilla-style set by the festival entrance for a crowd of unsuspecting new fans. Going from ground level to being introduced on the main stage by Waters was a bucket-list achievement. “Their intense leaps in the air remind me of a throwback ricocheting tear-gas canister landing in a crowd of ICE agents,” the fabulously filthy host told the crowd before bringing them up. When they took the stage, the band wasted no time exploding into a searing 10-song set led by “That Girl” and including a screeching cover of the Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie.”

Snooper lead singer Blair Tramel performing on the Field Stage at Mosswood Meltdown

(Dick Slaughter)

Snooper and its puppeteers of chaos

Performing its third set at the festival since 2022, this Nashville four-piece band has quickly become a staple of this fest thanks to a larger-than-life-size puppet show and an electro-shock energy that helped it rumble through an early set on the Field Stage Saturday. Frontwoman Blair Tramel let the creativity of her paper-mache puppets made for the show match her highly caffeinated caterwaul on songs like “On the Line” and “Long Way,” where blown-out guitar tones, glitchy beats and shrieking vocals took Saturday’s decibel level unapologetically into the red.

The Spits performing on the Amphitheater Stage at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

The Spits went full throttle

The sunken Amphitheater stage was a tough place to see anything if you didn’t show up to grab a spot at least 20 minutes early (or just climb a tree). But sweating in the sun to watch a band like the Spits, another Mosswood favorite, was worth pre-planning to get into the pit. The four-piece from Kalamazoo, Mich., hilariously clashed with the all-pink game show backdrop of the stage. Entering in sleeveless denim vests backed with a hailstorm of machine samples and maniacal Vincent Price laughter, the band clearly wasn’t playing any games as the members pounced on the crowd with 26 songs performed at breakneck speed, with dirty, piston-pumping rhythms on “Spit Me Out,” “Rip Up the Streets,” “Bring” and “SK8.”

Mannequin Pussy singer Missy Dabice and bassist Colins “Bear” Regisford on the Field Stage at Mosswood Meltdown

(Dick Slaughter)

Mannequin Pussy end with a loud bark

Blissfully ferocious and never short on words from the stage, frontwoman Missy Dabice didn’t get to say as much as she wanted to between songs due to the brevity of a festival set. But after a well-received set full of songs off 2024’s “I Got Heaven” and 2019’s “Patience,” Dabice still left room for some fiery parting words that embodied the tone of the weekend before wrapping things up with the band’s seething battle cry “Loud Bark.” “Don’t forget to celebrate the beauty of life while in every breath in turn fighting against fascism in every section of this country, good night!”

Otoboke Beaver drummer Emi “Leo” Morimoto performing on Saturday at Mosswood Meltdown

(Dick Slaughter)

Otoboke Beaver’s fury lights a fire

This quartet from Kyoto, Japan, put the Mosswood crowd in a stranglehold at the Field Stage and didn’t let up once during its entire set of math-rocky, manic, candy-colored fury. Even if you had no idea of the meaning behind song titles like “Don’t Light My Fire” or “I Am Not Maternal” or “Hey Where’s the Thank You?” sung mostly in Japanese, its joyous hell-raising energy left a lasting impression with the crowd. You couldn’t help but smile watching the members shred as an inflatable, beaver-shaped inner tube bounced around the mosh pit while they did their best to sound like a satanic garage band.

Iggy Pop headlining Saturday night at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

Iggy Pop’s eternal lust for life

Iggy Pop’s ability to stay shirtless and savage at 79 goes beyond scientific explanation. One can only assume he’s made a deal with the devil that he’ll never stop performing. That seemed OK with the packed crowd that watched him headline Saturday night, rolling through all the Stooges and solo classics that made him the king of the underground. He kicked off his 18-song set with “T.V .Eye” and continued ripping into “Raw Power and “I Got a Right” before anyone in the crowd had a chance to catch their breath. With the Los Tropicanos backing band behind him, Iggy’s energy was transferred through the players who bolstered his catalog of Detroit-bred proto punk with tight precision and the right amount of stumbling sleaziness. Though he ended the set in a cage from “Wild One” to “Mass Production,” it’s clear that he’ll never be confined and that should give us all a bit of extra hope for ourselves.

A crowd surfer at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

Sunday

Peaches Christ performing on the Field Stage at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

Peaches Christ sings with punk pride

The fire on stage for Day 2 of the fest started early by a pack of drag queens led by Peaches Christ. She sauntered on the stage with electrified green and purple hair and Vivienne Westwood-style chic to perform a cover of the Sex Pistols’ “God Save the Queen.” Showing the true rainbow colors of the punk scene has always been an important aspect of Mosswood’s ethos and as a staple of the fest, Christ compelled everyone in the crowd to sing loud and proud as she and her squad each took turns performing classics from the canon of mosh pit hits including “New Rose” by the Damned and “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes. Following her was fellow queen Kochina Rude who came out dressed as Pee-wee Herman to perform the Germs’ “Lexicon Devil” before stage-diving into the crowd. Between flamboyant showmanship and a strong commitment to the vocals on tough songs like Suicidal Tendencies’ “Institutionalized” (slayed by Trixxie Carr) the LGBTQ community’s spirit was on display throughout the set.

Drummer Nick Aguilar and bassist Nikki Piclle of Frankie and the Witchfingers.

(Dick Slaughter)

Frankie and the Witchfingers leaves the crowd spellbound

Casting a spell on the crowd with their sharp synth-laden aggression and bouncy ‘80s dance punk rhythms, Frankie and the Witch Fingers arrived with a bang in the late afternoon sun. With a guitar hiked up to his clavicle, frontman Dylan Sizemore convulsed with energy that saw the power of every chord electrify his bones during the jam-heavy “Conducting Experiments” while the rhythm section of drummer Nick Aguilar and the neon green-haired bassist Nikki Pickle kept the crowd bouncing and magnetized the attention of eyes all around the fest. The best crowd surfing of the day came thanks to a seasoned, white-haired fest attendee in a bike helmet who was getting tossed around like a white-water rafter. The head gear was definitely a smart idea.

Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein of the Return of Jackie and Judy perform on the Field Stage at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

The Return of Jackie and Judy revive the Ramones

It’s one thing to perform a set of cover songs, but it’s another thing to play tunes that ensure the vibe of an entire festival is covered as well. “I hope you like the Ramones ‘cuz that’s all we’re playing,” said Carrie Brownstein of Sleater Kinney. Alongside SK bandmates Corin Tucker, Toko Yasuda and “Portlandia” co-star/“Saturday Night Live” comedian Fred Armisen, the quartet formed Ramones tribute the Return of Jackie and Judy. From the thunderous opening chant of “Blitzkrieg Bop” (“Hey! Ho! Let’s Go!”), the all-age crowd strapped in for a roller-coaster ride of leather-clad punk classics that had everyone shouting along. Brownstein did a good job of meeting the moment with both joy and reverence, at various points talking to the crowd about the enduring spirit of the songs as well as dedicating “Rock-n-Roll Radio” to L7 bassist Jennifer Finch, who died Saturday.

Kathleen Hanna and Tobi Vail of Bikini Kill performing on Sunday at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

Bikini Kill passes the torch

The entire vibe around Sunday was fueled by female empowerment thanks to riot grrrl godmothers Bikini Kill. Throngs of young girls in Day-Glo punk garb and face paint mashed against the barricade to see the roots of revolutionary aggression come crashing through the chords of classics like “Carnival,” “Alien She” and, of course, “Rebel Girl.” But frontwoman Kathleen Hanna was just as stoked to see them having a good time in front of her. “I can’t wait to open for you in 10 years,” Hanna said to inspire all the girl bands yet to form in the crowd. . Giving a shout-out to female-fronted young bands like Bitchfit that played one of the most impressive ground-level sets of the weekend was a warm and fuzzy torch-passing moment that summed up the reason a festival like this is still so vital to the survival of punk culture.

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.