music

When the pandemic hit, and reality settled in that life would be isolated and mostly inside, Grammy winner Anderson .Paak found himself on the outside looking in, in a way he didn’t anticipate. “I was the odd man out. My son was 8, and BTS took over the whole house,” .Paak explained in an interview with The Times at his WeHo lounge, Andy’s. “It was a K-pop storm. Before that, me and my son were bonding off of my music.”

.Paak’s son, Soul Rasheed, and his now ex-wife originally from Korea, Jaylyn Chang, had become obsessed with K-pop alongside much of America, which reminded .Paak of the intensity of Beatlemania. Black American music influenced the birth of a new style, which formed and expanded across oceans, then returned to the U.S. and exploded. This effect in the .Paak household was palpable, causing Soul and Chang to deeply bond in a new way. .Paak himself, as a soul, R&B and hip-hop aficionado, was tapped into the source, but not the reinterpreted subject. So he had to find a way in.

Soul, at the time, like many 8-year-olds, had also become obsessed with becoming a YouTuber. Besides .Paak’s music, the father-and-son duo had also previously connected over humor, so .Paak started there. They began with funny skits and eventually fused them with BTS dances. Soon, there were even videos featuring them comedically educating each other about their individual music tastes. “I loved it,” .Paak recalled, getting lost in the memory. “I was getting to know him more, and he was getting to know me. My mom would always say, ‘It’s one thing for your kids to love you, but it’s another to share things you’re interested in.’ It wasn’t like I was being Anderson .Paak, I was just Dad.”

Through this exploration and the realization of a potential continued familial bond, a story idea emerged, then a treatment for a K-pop-centered film that .Paak would direct and he and Soul would both star in. .Paak then began directing a slew of music videos as the pandemic began to fade, building a portfolio and gaining experience in the medium. But he could start to sense Soul’s interest fading as time passed. After a few failed pitch attempts, .Paak urgently enlisted the help of one of his oldest friends and fellow entertainer, Jonnie “Dumbfoundead” Park, who brought .Paak and the idea to Stampede Ventures.

“The pitch was from an idea that Anderson had, and [to introduce it], we showed them this TikTok that he had with his son,” Park recalled over Zoom. “Anderson was like, ‘Do you know anything about BET, son?’ And [Soul] was like, ‘No, but I know BTS.’ Then they were just going back and forth, arguing about BET and BTS. That was literally the deck, [us saying] we would take that energy and put it into a two-hour film. They loved it. As soon as we walked out of the office, Anderson looked over like, ‘Are we greenlit?!’ They just understood it, the whole intergenerational, intercultural element of Black and Korean.” Stampede combined forces on the project with Live Nation Studios and .Paak’s debut feature “K-Pops!” was off to the races.

It’s important to note that .Paak is himself Black and Korean. His mother was adopted from Korea by a SoCal Black American military family and .Paak’s father was also a Black military officer. Thus, while his mother was born in Korea, he was raised almost entirely within a Black cultural space. .Paak didn’t experience much direct exposure to Korean culture until his 20s, when he met Chang at the Musicians Institute in Hollywood. As an immigrant directly from Korea, Chang showed him the fortitude of structure amid her community. He was also taken by their inherent family value system. “In Korean households, you stay in the house until you get older so you can take care of your parents, and your parents can help take care of the kids,” .Paak explained. “There’s an infrastructure that’s worked out. Also, Korean food is important, as is learning the language. I was drawn to that. My son didn’t eat anything outside of Korean food for so long, and he’s just now getting into tacos.”

.Paak then further explored his Korean side through a burgeoning friendship with Park, which happened a bit later, after Chang had already given birth to Soul. Park introduced .Paak to K-town-based Korean culture through their shared music scene. “The people that came from K-town had a lot of Latino and Black influences as well,” .Paak remembered. “There was a little more of a melting pot, and it was more urban. But in a similarly communal way [to Koreans from Korea], they were all hanging out in K-town with other Korean friends. They’d drink soju, and go to after-hours where you had to have somebody Korean with you.”

While .Paak had some opportunities in adulthood to grasp a bit of his Korean heritage, in “K-Pops!,” through his main character BJ, he also got to actualize what his mother may have missed. In the film, BJ, a failed karaoke bar R&B musician, gets a lucky chance to go to Korea and be the drummer for a popular K-pop competition series. There, he bumps into his estranged ex-girlfriend’s son, Tae Young (played by Soul), who is competing on the show. He then finds out that the kid is his. While a messy transition ensues, BJ and Tae Young eventually get to galavant around Korea and work together to try to win the competition. Through this exploration, BJ finds out he can thrive in Korea while still holding onto his Blackness. .Paak’s mother’s dive back into her roots had a different result. “My mom went abroad and spent a year in Korea, but when she went there, she just didn’t like it,” .Paak explained. “In the movie, initially, BJ doesn’t really have any connection to his Korean side and doesn’t really care to know, but then he finds a bridge.” That bridge is music.

Actor Yvette Nicole Brown, who in “K-Pops!” plays BJ’s mother, proclaimed over Zoom that, “Everything about the film and the music in it is Blasian, every culture is celebrated and massaged and made into something beautiful.” .Paak made a concerted, intentional effort to explore both the Black and Korean sides of K-pop in two scenes.

The first is an early breakdown initiated by Soul’s character, Tae Young, who explains the structured roles of a K-pop group, which may be fun for superfans and educational for laypeople to the genre. The next is a winding presentation by BJ to Tae Young about the influence of Motown groups like the Jackson 5 and boy bands like New Edition on the momentum of K-pop’s rise. It’s particularly poignant because it is all shot at a record store on the streets of Korea, where .Paak explained he actually found the records he was referencing. “There’s nothing wrong with people doing their interpretation of Black music, as long as you pay homage and as long as you respect it and take care of it,” .Paak declared. “Because [if you do], then they’ll take care of you, but the moment you don’t, you’ll see what happens … I wanted to explain that history because that’s how I saw it.”

”K-Pops!” has as much of who .Paak and Soul are as father and son as he could fit in. There are appearances by legacy Black artists like Earth, Wind & Fire, as well as K-pop stars like Vernon from Seventeen. There are original songs co-written and co-produced by .Paak and musician Dem Jointz, that feature K-pop fused with soul and funk, one of which Tae Young performs as his finale competition number (soundtrack arriving soon). The film was shot in both L.A. and Korea and provided ample time for bonding (especially during scenes filled with off-the-cuff humor) that .Paak envisioned from the beginning. Yet still, at the time they were about to shoot, .Paak almost couldn’t get Soul on board because he had turned 11 and wasn’t as into K-pop or acting comedically anymore; he insisted he was instead “into Slipknot.”

The duo did find their footing, though, and executed a winding story that centers on their connection. As a burgeoning teenager in 2024, Soul went with his father to the world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival, along with a plethora of Korean relatives from his mom’s side. .Paak anxiously awaited their full reaction to the culmination of his quest for a deeper bond.

“Everybody really enjoyed it,” .Paak remembered, relieved. “[Soul] was like, ‘I’m proud of you, Dad.’ I asked him, ‘You think you would ever do part two?’ He was like, ‘Nah, I don’t think acting is my passion, but I’ll never forget those moments … You know what? On second thought, it depends on the script.’ But I think he’s really proud of it. I think it’s something like, when he gets older, he’ll see how special it is as well. But yeah, he didn’t say it’s cringe.”

“K-Pops!” has its L.A. premiere on Tuesday and debuts in select theaters Friday.

GRAMMY-nominated salsa legend Willie Colón has died aged 75.

Heartbreaking tributes have poured in for the musical pioneer – with Bad Bunny calling the star “one of the legends who contributed to this beautiful and legendary genre”.

The iconic artist passed away on Saturday surrounded by loved ones, his manager confirmed.

Colón was a trombonist, composer, arranger, singer and social activist.

Over his decades-long career, he produced more than 40 albums that sold more than 30 million copies worldwide.

His manager Pietro Carlos said: “Today, we’ve lost an architect of the New York sound, a trombonist who made metal his banner and wrote eternal chapters in our musical history.

“Willie didn’t just change salsa; he expanded it, politicized it, clothed it in urban chronicles, and took it to stages where it hadn’t been heard before.

“His trombone was the voice of the people, an echo of the Caribbean in New York, a bridge between cultures.”

He added: “Today we say goodbye to a master, but his legacy lives on.”

Meanwhile, Grammy-winner Bad Bunny said on Instagram: “Today, one of the legends who contributed to this beautiful and legendary genre passed away.”

The star continued: “So, on behalf of myself and Los Sobrinos, we wish Willie Colón peace.

“Much strength to his family.

“The inspiration of so many of these great musicians who left their mark on this earth will never die as long as there are talented young people like those here, keeping the music, salsa and all Caribbean rhythms alive.”

Colón’s cause of death has not been confirmed, but Saturday’s tragic news follows reports from last week claiming that the star had been hospitalised for respiratory problems, according to TMZ.

A pivotal architect of urban salsa music, Colón collaborated with a long list of fellow icons, including the Fania All Stars, David Byrne and Celia Cruz.

His critically acclaimed collaboration with Rubén Blades, Siembra, which touched on social issues in salsa, became one of the bestselling albums in the genre of all time.

The musician, born to Puerto Rican parents, was nominated for 10 Grammys and one Latin Grammy.

Colón was born in the Bronx, New York, before being raised by his grandmother and aunt, who from a young age nurtured him with traditional Puerto Rican music.

When he was 11 years old he ventured into the world of music, first playing the flute, then bugle, trumpet and finally trombone.

His interest in trombone was sparked after experiencing Barry Rogers playing it on Dolores, Mon Rivera’s song with Joe Cotto.

He recalled in 2011: “It sounded like an elephant, a lion … an animal.

“Something so different that, as soon as I heard it, I said to myself: ‘I want to play that instrument.’”

Colón’s main musical traits included the fusion of rhythms.

The genius harmonized jazz, rock, funk, soul and R&B with the old Latin school of Cuban son, cha-cha-cha, mambo and guaracha.

His style also encompassed traditional Puerto Rican sound including jíbara, bomba and plena music.

A passionate advocate for civil rights, he fought mostly in the US for the Latino community among others.

In 1991 he was awarded the Chubb fellowship from Yale University, a public service recognition also awarded to John F. Kennedy, Moshe Dayan, the Rev. Jesse Jackson and Ronald Reagan.

And he even served in politics – working as a special assistant to David Dinkins, New York’s first Black mayor, and an adviser to Mayor Michael Bloomberg.

Colón had his own stints running for public office too – but had little luck challenging the then-US Rep. Eliot Engel in the 1994 Democratic primary.

In 2001 he also came in third in the Democratic primary for New York’s public advocate.

The late star also appeared in films such – taking roles in Vigilante, The Last Fight, and It Could Happen to You.

On TV, he featured in Miami Vice and Demasiado Corazón.

The icon also appeared in Bad Bunny’s music video for NuevaYol.

Colón is survived by his wife and four sons.

Teddy Riley took to social media late Thursday to walk back earlier comments he’d made about wanting to work with the disgraced R&B singer R. Kelly.

In an interview with The Times published on Wednesday, the veteran producer and musician — widely known as the architect of the New Jack Swing sound that dominated Black pop in the late 1980s and early 1990s — said he’d “talked a few times” with Kelly, who’s serving a 30-year prison sentence after a jury convicted him of racketeering and sex trafficking charges, and that he’s “bringing in investors” to help release some portion of the 25 albums Kelly has said he’s recorded in prison.

“Everybody deserves a second chance,” Riley told The Times. “Everyone deserves to repent, and everyone gets forgiven by God when you come to him. People miss [Kelly’s] music. I’m the messenger to bring R&B back.”

Yet Thursday he appeared to changed course.

“As a producer, I’ve always been excited about the possibilities of music and creative collaboration,” he wrote in an Instagram post. “That excitement has defined my career. But I also understand that words carry weight, and I never want my passion for music to overshadow the very real pain that many people have experienced.

“If my comments caused hurt, I sincerely apologize,” he added. “That was never my intention. I take seriously the impact that abuse and misconduct have had on survivors and their families. Their experiences matter, and they deserve to be acknowledged with care and respect.”

Riley, whose long career has included collaborations with Michael Jackson, Bobby Brown and Keith Sweat, described his plan to work with Kelly as “a creative idea discussed in passing. It is not something that will move forward. Loving music and recognizing its cultural impact does not mean condoning harmful behavior, and I want to be clear about that.

“I have spent my life building a legacy rooted in innovation, integrity, and love for the art form. That remains my focus. I appreciate the dialogue, and I remain committed to moving forward with intention and accountability,” said Riley, who this month published a book, “Remember the Times,” about his life and work.

“Thank you to everyone who continues to support me, my memoir, and the journey,” he wrote on Instagram.

Imelda Marcos’ fetish for fiendishly expensive shoes was a running gag in the 1980s. But did you know that she was also something of a disco queen?

The image of a jet-setting Marcos in her Beltrami pumps boogieing with arms dealers at fashionable New York nightspots is one of the inspirations of David Byrne’s musical about the notorious former first lady of the Philippines, who sang on the campaign trail for her husband, Ferdinand E. Marcos, and ruled with an iron fist alongside him after he declared martial law and plunged his nation into a brutal dictatorship.

“Here Lies Love,” which is having its Los Angeles premiere at the Mark Taper Forum, traces the political power couple’s rise and fall through a series of dance cuts that capture the irrational hold charismatic leaders can have on a public — at least while the music is blasting.

Byrne, the ingenious Talking Heads co-founder, conceived the show and wrote the music and lyrics. Fatboy Slim, a Grammy Award-winning DJ, musician and record producer, contributed to the music. The score, a mix of lush disco and synth pop with hints of island breezes and karaoke camp, brings a club-like energy to the stage.

I first saw “Here Lies Love” at New York’s Public Theater in 2013, when the production, directed by Alex Timbers, was staged as an immersive dance party. Audience members moved along a shifting dance floor as the love story between Imelda, a beauty queen from the provinces, and Ferdinand, an ambitious senator accustomed to getting what he wants, sourly played out amid the backdrop of a traumatic national story.

This sung-through musical pulled off something of a coup of its own. As Ferdinand, now president and philandering husband, and Imelda, his embittered wife dripping in compensatory luxury, shore up their “conjugal dictatorship,” theatergoers discovered that, while partying to the seductive beat, a political dystopia was solidifying around them.

Imagine if, in “Evita,” audience members were invited to sing back up on the balcony as Eva Perón belts out “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,” accompanying her in her last manipulative hurrah. “Here Lies Love” seemed to want its audience to leave with an aftertaste of cognitive dissonance.

Audiences don’t usually like being duped. But voters need to be continually reminded that when they go to bed with a strongman, they’ll likely wake up without healthcare or voting rights.

“Here Lies Love” at the Taper doesn’t follow the Public Theater’s staging or the similarly immersive Broadway production by Timbers that followed in 2023. It’s a more straightforward presentation that keeps audience members in their seats, except for a moment when uprising is in the air and a few theatergoers are conscripted to join the ecstatic rebellion.

Snehal Desai’s direction is politically clear-eyed and scrupulous. Corruption, authoritarianism and censorship, as we’re learning firsthand, scandal after constitutional scandal, are no laughing matter. The question is whether “Here Lies Love” can bear the scrutiny of a more traditional musical.

There’s not a traditional libretto, so the story is transmitted mostly through song lyrics. But stump speeches, rallying cries and the theatrical guidance of Imeldific (Aura Mayari, alum of Season 15 of “RuPaul’s Drag Race”) help flesh out the chronicle.

This emcee figure, a Taper innovation, replaces the DJ role of previous productions and establishes the show’s metatheatrical frame. The opening number, “American Troglodyte,” underscores the American imperial role in the story and provides Imdeldific with a satiric banner that doesn’t let a smiling superpower off the hook.

William Carlos Angulo’s choreography is unfailingly kinetic, but participating in a party is more energizing than watching one at a remove. Yet the political case of Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos, a tale of celebrity and tyranny marching in lockstep, speaks so directly to our own time that I found myself gripped by the object lesson of this public saga, even if it’s not always easy to connect all the fragments, never mind distinguish between hard fact and fictional license.

I was particularly fascinated by the portrayal of Imelda (Reanne Acasio), whose political character seems to be shaped by personal disappointments and run-of-the-mill humiliations. Imelda is wounded not only by the philandering of Ferdinand (Chris Renfro) but by an even more painful injury inflicted by her first love, Ninoy Aquino (Joshua Dela Cruz), a politician determined to become the voice of his people.

Ninoy recognizes an essential incompatibility between them. Imelda lives for love while he has political work to do. He bids her adieu in the song “Opposite Attraction,” though fate will bring them together after Imelda and her husband gain power and Ninoy, as the leading opposition figure, becomes their prisoner and eventual victim of the chaos unleashed by their regime.

Unfolding under the theatrical auspices of Imeldific, “Here Lies Love” retells the history of the Marcos years as a musical pageant. Imelda’s transformation, from shy, lowly country girl to “Iron Butterfly,” covering up her shame with jewelry from Tiffany and revealing a will every bit as hard as the diamonds she flaunts, is presented with music so catchy and compulsive that it has the force of historical inevitability

The grooves supplied by Byrne and Slim take not just the characters but the audience on a ride through a brutal anti-democratic period. Does the disco spectacle aesthetic treat this history too lightly?

The production seems wary of this criticism. A program note from dramaturg Ely Sonny Orquiza, attuned to the sensitivities of the large Filipino diaspora in Los Angeles, notes that the production, “featuring an all-Filipino cast and majority-AAPI creative team, is not intended as a definitive or comprehensive history, but as an entry point for dialogue and inquiry.”

The scale of damage perpetrated by the regime is still being collectively processed. One victim, Estrella Cumpas (Carol Angeli), makes the mistake of confronting Imelda, a childhood friend, and is taken into custody. She will have to stand in for thousands of others.

The design scheme certainly doesn’t want to spoil anyone’s good time. Arnel Sancianco’s sets, Marcella Barbeau’s lighting and the more glittering of Jaymee Ngernwichit’s costumes seem to place us in a retro Euro-style disco world, where fun is typically a function of the strength of the cocktails consumed.

But there’s a countermovement in the show, the People Power Revolution that gains momentum after the assassination of Nimoy. The funeral speech of his mother (Joan Almedilla) is turned into the galvanizing protest song, “Just Ask the Flowers,” in which something as basic as maternal love wakes the country to the madness around them. Desai, whose directorial work at the Taper thus far has brought together rave and rebellion, smoothly merges the Dionysian frenzy of the music with the nonviolent revolution that ended Ferdinand Marcos’ protracted dictatorship in 1986.

Dela Cruz’s stirring Ninoy standing tall against the patriarchal savagery of Renfro’s Ferdinand and the petty vindictiveness of Acasio’s well-drawn Imelda is a powerful call to action. Byrne and Slim’s score insists that not even death can stop the beat of this democratic spirit.

The production points out at the end that another Marcos, Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr., Ferdinand and Imelda’s son, is now president. Perhaps the show’s final number can shed light: “God draws straight, but with crooked lines.”

Jesy Nelson’s documentary has brought the X Factor winners back into the spotlight – but what are they up to these days?

Little Mix’s unexpected split has come back into conversation following Jesy Nelson’s recent admission that another band member tried to walk away first.

Fans of the iconic group were left heartbroken when Jesy announced she was quitting the band in 2020, citing mental health reasons.

She left her bandmates Leigh-Anne Pinnock, Perrie Edwards and Jade Thirlwall to continue carrying the torch, but they soon went on a hiatus in 2022.

The X Factor winners’ legacy is still carried by their catchy tunes, which still attract over 16 million monthly listeners on Spotify.

In light of Jesy sharing behind-the-scenes truths about the band, let’s take a look at where they are today.

Jesy Nelson

Jesy has recently opened up about her life since leaving the band in a new Prime Video docuseries, Life After Little Mix.

The 34-year-old had a short-lived solo music career because her first single sparked backlash. She released ‘Boyz’ featuring Nicki Minaj in 2021, and followed it up with a music video.

Fans accused Jesy of ‘Blackfishing’ in the video, which featured her wearing makeup and fake tan that they claim made her appear Black or mixed-race. This scandal caused so much headache for the star that she vowed to never return to music in her new documentary.

Outside of music, Jesy was in a long-term relationship with ex fiancé Zion Foster, which came to an end earlier this month. The former couple welcomed twin daughters Ocean Jade and Story Monroe in May 2025.

Following their birth, the singer discovered they had a life-threatening condition called Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA) Type 1. The rare genetic condition causes progressive muscle weakness. Jesy is now campaigning to raise awareness about the condition.

Perrie Edwards

Perrie focused on her family life following the group’s hiatus in May 2022, as she had just welcomed her first son Axel months prior.

The 32-year-old has since welcomed daughter Alanis with footballer fiancé Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain. But she hasn’t forgotten about music. The mum-of-two released her debut album ‘Perrie’ last year and dropped new single ‘Woman in Love’ earlier this month.

Her first album featured the ballad ‘Same Place Different View,’ which is widely understood to be about her former bandmate Jesy.

The lyrics delve into the pain of losing a close friendship and how these losses can be just as devastating as romantic break ups.

For the latest showbiz, TV, movie and streaming news, go to the new ** Everything Gossip ** website.

Leigh-Anne Pinnock

Leigh-Anne also married a famous footballer named Andre Gray. The couple share twins but have kept their identities private.

As for her music career, Leigh-Anne has just dropped her first studio album ‘My Ego Told Me To’ and will be touring this April.

Announcing her tour to fans, she wrote: “I’m going on tour baby!!! I can’t tell you how excited I am to perform this album live for you! Get me back to my happy place nowww! This one’s going to be so special!”

Jade Thirlwall

Jade is also embarking on a tour, which spans across the UK, Europe and the US. It comes after her first album ‘That’s Showbiz Baby!’ dropped in September.

The 33-year-old bagged two BRIT Award nominations for Best Pop Act and Artist of the Year following her debut.

As for her personal life, Jade is in a long-term relationship with Rizzle Kicks members Jordan Stephens.

Jesy Nelson: Life After Little Mix is streaming now on Prime Video.

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It began with Beethoven.

Bright yellow T-shirts reading, in raspberry type, “¡Bienvenido Gustavo!” marked Gustavo Dudamel’s first concert as music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic the first Saturday afternoon of October 2009 at the Hollywood Bowl. Eighteen thousand tickets were distributed free for a performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, an Angeleno “Ode to Joy” broadcast worldwide. The exultant young Venezuelan conductor’s message was: There is no North, South or Central America. We are one.

We are now in “Gracias Gustavo” season, and times, we are daily reminded, they are a-changin’. But what remains consistent is that Dudamel begins again, in the first month of his six-month homestretch as L.A. Phil music director, by dwelling on the composer he says has meant the most to him since his earliest days as a kid conductor in Caracas. His first major recording boasted startlingly propulsive performances of Beethoven’s Fifth and Seventh Symphonies, with the uproarious Simón Bolívar Youth Orchestra of Venezuela, recorded 20 years ago this month. In August, Dudamel will end his L.A. Phil tenure as he began it, with Beethoven’s Ninth at the Bowl.

Through these two decades, thick and COVID-lockdown thin, Beethoven has been Dudamel’s composer of uplift. This weekend he confronts, for the first time, Beethoven’s daunting mystical and mystifying “Missa Solemnis.” In following weeks, he will pair Beethoven symphonies with two of the most arresting and original of the dozens of new works he has premiered in Los Angeles — Gabriela Ortiz’ Glitter Revolution ballet score, “Revolución Diamantina,” and the first part of Thomas Adès “Dante” ballet.

To begin the Beethoven month at Walt Disney Concert Hall, however, Dudamel turned to another Beethoven work that has long obsessed him, the rarely heard complete incidental to Goethe’s tragedy, “Egmont,” which has the ever-relevant theme that matters most to Dudamel — the profound joy that arises from victory over injustice. For this, he had the assistance of actress Cate Blanchett and playwright Jeremy O. Harris.

Here, too, Beethoven serves as a musical, spiritual and political touchstone. “Egmont” comes in the middle of Beethoven’s career, his heroic period. The historic Egmont was a Flemish general, a hero to his people in the Netherlands who attempts to serve the 16th ^{century Spanish emperor, Philip II, and rife for Goethe’s romanticizing. A remarkable polymath, Goethe himself served as an advisor to Weimar’s Grand Duke, brilliantly balancing political compromises with literature’s highest spiritual callings. He admired the spirit of liberty, for instance, yet opposed the French Revolution and supported Napoleon, believing that ensuing populist disorder would then, as it turned out, require autocracy.}

Goethe’s Egmont must learn to love before he can act to defend his people against Philip. The hero goes to his death at the point of self-realization that only in sacrifice may he ascend to and become a symbol for glory.

In the play, which begins as historic epic and becomes, for Goethe, increasing personal and interior, Egmont gains perspective on the complexities of his place in politics by contemplating nature and being. Among Goethe’s many passions were scientific study. He immersed himself in the natural world and befriended the pioneering German environmentalist, Alexander von Humboldt.

It could, thus, have been hardly coincidence that Dudamel opened the program with the premiere of “Humboldt’s Nature” by Venezuelan composer Ricardo Lorenz. The five-part, 25-minute symphonic poem for a large orchestra rife with percussion follows Humboldt’s account of his journey to Venezuela in 1799.

Symphonic glitter sets the stage of New Andalusia. Guacharo birds shriek. Latin rhythms take us to coastal regions. Sandy percussion accompanies a journey up the Orinoco River. Throughout, Lorenz’s orchestra, imaginatively colored, reflects vast nature. But the score ends with the shock of humanity, as Humboldt encounters enslaved Cubans.

The one thing Goethe lacked was a sophisticated ear for music (and possibly sound). But Humbolt’s account could practically be the starting place for Beethoven’s “Egmont,” begun a decade after the Venezuelan encounter. In the popular overture, elicitation of tumult concludes, with startling exhilaration, in the kind of grand Beethovenian triumph that never fails to excite. The incidental music, though, offers needed theatrical context. That includes two songs for Egmont’s love, Klärchen, four entr’actes, a melodrama for Egmont as he approaches his execution and, powerfully as only Beethoven can, a battle cry.

Goethe has never lost relevance. Matthew Bell’s new biography, “Goethe’: A Life in Ideas,” has given Germany’s Shakespeare new attention. One of the greatest plays of our time, Tom Stoppard’s “Arcadia,” confronts Goethe’s “Elective Affinities” with our own elective affinities. One of the greatest operas of our time, John Adams’ “Doctor Atomic,” contemplates the creation of nuclear weapons as the functioning of a latter-day Faust, Goethe’s most lasting creation.

“Egmont,” too, readily speaks to us and it has been on Dudamel’s agenda for years. While performances of the complete play with the incidental music are rare, a half-hour concert version, also rare but less so, proves effective. Dudamel did it with the Berlin Philharmonic in June, a performance of which can be viewed on the orchestra’s Digital Concert Hall. The narrator is a young Austrian actor, Felix Kammerer, who is riveting (as he is in Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein”). He adds a slight introduction revealing Egmont’s indecisiveness, but otherwise sticks to Goethe.

Harris, who is the author of “Slave Play,” has other elective affinities. He has created a new, effusively angry text for Blanchett. It begins as a dirge. Battalions are gathered on the banks of Portland, Ore.; Bethlehem; Charlotte, N.C.; Tehran; Minneapolis; Brussels. The Egmont Harris references is the historical one, not Goethe’s. The text become a bald call for action.

Much of it was lost to the audience, since reverberant amplification gave heroic heft to Blanchett’s voice at the cost of intelligibility. But her intensity, whether seated on the lip of the stage, where she begins, or standing in the organ loft where she winds up at the end, spoke for itself.

Beethoven’s music improves Goethe, extracting its humanity and frailty, and Dudamel’s performance probed its profound inevitability of good triumphing over evil. Soprano Elena Villalón added lithe touch to Klärchen’s songs, sung in their original German.

But Beethoven can do little for Harris’ and Blanchett‘s agitprop. Theirs is the necessity of the moment to act rather than indulge an Egmont who has to feel before he can respond. Although Blanchett was the joyless conductor in the film “Tár,” her curious little dance in the organ loft at the moment of musical triumph may have meant recovered joy or simply that the world, in which we are no longer one, has gone crazy.

Equally peculiar was a performance of Schumann’s Piano Concerto that served as transition from “Humboldt” to “Egmont.” One of the concerto highlights of Dudamel’s music directorship in L.A. is a performance, eight years ago, of the concerto’s mood-shifting eloquence, for which he and Mitsuko Uchida were in wondrous accord.

This time, the soloist was the stellar emerging pianist Yunchan Lim, who keeps to himself, either lost in dreamy reverie or, like a jumpy teenager, in ferocious attack mode. Having little choice, Dudamel let Lim be. Like Egmont, Lim’s glory may one day arrive when he can express purpose for his actions.

As a child, I spent nearly every weekend with my best friend shooting hoops and jumping fences throughout Hollywood.

It was always amusing seeing tourists — especially foreigners — line up around buildings and outside nightclubs and lounges that held no meaning to me, at the time.

These monuments I ignored as a youngster became the must-see places of my teenage years and early 20s.

It was at the Viper Room where a 20-year-old me was tossed out of line trying to crash the same venue where Pearl Jam had played.

I was first scandalized by the price of a drink for a date’s $10 cocktail at the Troubadour in West Hollywood (I think I was making $6.50 an hour at the time). But I had to visit one of Jim Morrison’s favorite haunts.

So I was delighted when The Times entertainment team compiled its list of 26 legendary music sites in L.A.

It was fun to see favorites, but more importantly, to read about new places and legends.

Hopefully, there’s a spot that intrigues you. Let’s take a look at a few selections.

Capitol Records (Hollywood)

The most famous tower in all of music was never overtly intended to look like a stack of LPs and a stylus needle.

“The building was not designed as a cartoon or a giggle. To have it trivialized with the stack-of-records myth is annoying and dismaying,” architect Louis Naidorf has said of his Capitol Records Building. “There’s not a thing on the building that doesn’t have a solid purpose to it.”

That was no obstacle for it becoming emblematic of both Los Angeles and the record business. It’s still home to one of the most renowned recording studios on Earth, and its silhouette remains a Hollywood icon and a symbol of Los Angeles on par with the Hollywood sign nearby.

Elliott Smith Wall (Silver Lake)

The beloved singer-songwriter Elliott Smith posed at the swooping mural outside Solutions speaker repair in Silver Lake for the cover of his LP “Figure 8” in 2000.

After he died by suicide in 2003, the wall became an unofficial memorial for Smith, where fans left touching notes, song lyrics and nips of liquors mentioned in his songs.

While the wall has been cut out in spots to make room for various restaurants — and it’s often covered in more flagrant tagging — it’s still a living connection to one of the city’s most cherished voices.

Chaplin Studio (Hollywood)

John Mayer calls it “adult day care”: the historic recording studio behind the arched gates on La Brea Avenue where famous musicians have been keeping themselves — and one another — creatively occupied since the mid-1960s.

Known for decades as Henson Studios — and as A&M Studios before that — the 3-acre complex in the heart of Hollywood has played host to the creation of some of music’s most celebrated records, among them Carole King’s “Tapestry,” Joni Mitchell’s “Blue,” Guns N’ Roses’ “Use Your Illusion” and D’Angelo’s “Black Messiah.”

Charlie Chaplin, who was born in London, began building the lot in 1917 in a white-and-brown English Tudor style; he went on to direct some of his best-known films, including “Modern Times” and “The Great Dictator,” on the property.

The Lighthouse Cafe (Hermosa Beach)

The Lighthouse Cafe might seem familiar from its cameo in the Oscar-winning movie “La La Land,” but this jazz cafe was once instrumental in shaping the West Coast jazz scene.

The beachside spot first opened as a restaurant in 1934 and was changed into a bar by the 1940s. It first started to play jazz in 1949 when the owner let bassist Howard Rumsey host a recurring jam session. The jams quickly began to draw both a vivacious crowd of listeners and a core group of budding jazz musicians.

Over the years, musicians like Chet Baker, Gerry Mulligan, Miles Davis and Max Roach all made regular appearances at the Lighthouse. Today, the venue still hosts jazz brunches every Sunday and other musical gigs throughout the week.

For more, here is the entire list.

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Thundering drums and shredding guitar solos cut through the crowd as pyrotechnics and streamer cannons blast. The energy and production feel like a show at the Hollywood Palladium or the Forum, but we’re at Knott’s Berry Farm, on the rooftop of a big red doghouse — that is if we can suspend our disbelief for an evening. The educational rock band Jelly of the Month Club along with guest musicians Charlie Brown, Lucy, Schroeder and Linus set up the show’s finale with a question: “Where’s that crazy dog?” Hundreds of fans scream as “All aboard!” resonates through the park, watching in anticipation as a spotlight searches for its fuzzy rock ‘n’ roll star to emerge.

Chances are you’ve seen Snoopy dressed as Doggy Pawsbourne on your Instagram or TikTok feed, complete with Ozzy’s signature round sunglasses, long hair and trench coat, punctuating the Prince of Barkness’ “Crazy Train” entrance. Snoopy’s Legendary Rooftop Concert became an instant hit with park patrons and with fans internationally thanks to a viral video posted on opening night. Sharon Osbourne shared the “Peanuts” tribute to her late husband with the all caps message “I LOVE IT” to her social media from the floor of the 68th Grammy Awards. But it’s more than witty puns and costumes that make Snoopy’s Legendary Rooftop Concert special.

The show at Knott’s tells the story of Snoopy learning to be a rock star at Jelly of the Month Club’s Music Academy and touring the world with the band. Snoopy takes on fursonas like Dog Lennon, Paw Prince, Fido Mercury, Flying Ace Freely and even a lost member of Devo wearing the signature Energy Dome hat. Jelly of the Month Club hits every beat and chord with precision, with arrangements of songs and medleys that bring together the power of rock’s past with the whimsy of “Peanuts.” Woodstock gets a solo moment too, whistling on Dog Marley’s “Three Little Birds,” set to a perfect one drop beat as Charlie Brown spirals out in a chicken suit while rubber chickens sway.

“We got rows of kids bringing their own rubber chickens,” show director Rob Perez tells me. “Its almost like watching ‘Rocky Horror’; kind of bizarre, really funny, and charming.” When Charles Schulz’s daughter Jill came to see the show, she told Perez that her dad used to say “there’s nothing funnier than a rubber chicken.”

It makes sense that rock ‘n’ roll appeals to Snoopy; he’s a bit of an outsider with an internal life seen by almost none of his friends. It makes more sense that the feeling of family promised by rock touring life would appeal to Charlie Brown; it often calls to creative dreamers and outcasts with a subconscious need to belong. Schulz explored why all humans have the feeling people don’t like us in his cartoons and admitted that Charlie Brown was loosely based on himself. “People who win are the minority,” he told BBC in 1977, “most of us lose a lot.” The solution he provided to overcoming life’s most difficult conditions was simply to never give up.

Nobody cheers on Charlie Brown in Snoopy’s Legendary Rooftop Concert more than Jelly of the Month Club guitarist and vocalist Michael De La Torre, a.k.a. Mic Dangerously, who has become accustomed to encouragement working with youth. Active since 2013, Jelly of the Month Club is a family-friendly band who use music to inspire, educate and entertain kids and adults. It has played countless elementary schools, children’s hospitals, civic events and theme parks with interactive songs that teach musical concepts and life lessons. The band also offers free online lessons called the Jelly of the Month Club Music Academy, which turned live gigs into cartoon-based educational games. The band members have partnered with nonprofits including UNICEF’s Kid Power initiative to provide concerts to schools across Southern California, often donating their time.

“Studies say music helps with math, English and science, but it also helps you as a person,” Dangerously says. “It helps you understand feelings better. Look at how adults use music therapeutically. Kids are doing just the same.”

Dangerously first recognized the power of music education as a young boy at St. Pius elementary school in Buena Park, when a man with a bushy mustache and a Hawaiian shirt quieted the boisterous students in seconds with only an acoustic guitar. But hearing Louis Prima’s voice in “The Jungle Book” solidified his desire to become a singer.

Playing at Knott’s has forged meaningful connections to the community in ways Dangerously never foresaw in his early rock ‘n’ roll days. He’s become close to a father and his usually nonverbal son who can’t keep quiet at shows, asking questions and singing along. Last year an older woman who he’s built a friendship with for years suddenly disappeared. Dangerously learned from her daughter and granddaughter that she suffered a stroke. She credits singing and dancing to his music at Knott’s as instrumental in recovering her speech and movement. “She told me that she loved me like a son,” Dangerously says. “I’ve never had anything like that happen with my rock band. It makes you really want to show up.”

On the night The Times experienced Snoopy’s Legendary Rooftop Concert, Dangerously’s biggest fan, Abbey, stood in the front row playing a light up tambourine above her head to “The Blooz Beagles,” wearing a head-to-toe matching outfit to him. In her sequin blazer, red pants, black boots, bow tie and wide-brim hat, the 11-year-old mirrored his musical gestures, never missing a beat. Abbey loves “everything” about the music and dancing she tells me, excited to share that Mic personally gave her the tambourine and a few other instruments too.

“They’ve known her since she was 3,” says April Guerrero, Abbey’s supportive mom who has helped her daughter make replicas of Jelly of the Month Club’s looks since 2017. Abbey learned to play music because of the band’s online resources.

“Many of us have a background in education,” Dangerously said. Matt Kalin is a teacher and pro saxophonist who has shared the stage with legends like Social Distortion and Louis Bellson. Dr. Todd Forman is a practicing physician who went to Harvard, taught at USC, and played sax with Sublime. Bassist James Kee is an educator who has taught kindergarten through fourth grade for the last 15 years. Dangerously’s own mom was an art teacher who encouraged him to teach after he finished his audio engineering degree at Musicians Institute, something he’s used in a junior producer’s course he created for an after-school program in Long Beach.

Like the members of Jelly of the Month Club, director Rob Perez is a multi-instrumentalist and producer with a deep reverence for classic rock and Charles Schulz cartoons. Perez is the man responsible for turning Snoopy’s Legendary Rooftop Concert from a dream into a reality. The concert grew out of a 2017 show called Woodstock’s Music Festival. When Snoopy walked out as Jimmy Hendrix, the crowd went wild, and Perez’s boss and Knott’s fans wanted more.

“The Rooftop Concert is a little bit of a nod to the Beatles, but it’s much more about Snoopy’s rooftop,” Perez tells me. “When you see Snoopy as the great writer, or the World War I Flying Ace, it’s always on the roof of his doghouse. So why wouldn’t he be a rock star on his rooftop?”

Knott’s rebrand of the show let Perez incorporate more storytelling, a task he shared with Jelly of the Month Club. The show opens with Snoopy traveling from his fictional cartoon town to a rehearsal where Dangerously gifts him a tambourine to join their jam. He sends Snoopy home with a pile of records which he listens to obsessively in his doghouse, a relatable experience for fans who have found solace and inspiration in old LPs, hiding out like Snoopy with pizza, root beer, and the complicated dream of leaving the only place you’ve ever called home to follow music’s call. Snoopy dons a leather vest, proclaims he’s a “Golden Dog,” and runs away from home to take lessons at Jelly of the Month Club‘s Music Academy and tour the world. After receiving criticism in the recording studio about his howl, Snoopy finds himself missing his best friend Charlie Brown. He asks the Peanuts Gang to team up with Jelly of the Month Club for one final performance on top of his doghouse, legendary enough to land them in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Perez’s writing and producing shares the attention to detail present in Jelly of the Month Club’s approach to the music. Perez had the honor of voice acting for Snoopy. He digitally re-created a technique he learned from researching Bill Melendez’s 1960s approach in which he recorded barks and grumbles directly to reel-to-reel tape, sped it up, then cut and pasted it randomly to create Snoopy’s signature pentameter-less cadence. Perez worked closely with costume designer Tim Barham, creating every wig, accessory, and costume with exacting detail. The storyline and graphics pay close attention to “Peanuts” lore and rock ‘n’ roll film history, with Easter eggs from “La Bamba,” “Rocketman,” “This Is Spinal Tap,” “Almost Famous” and many others hidden throughout the 30-minute show.

“We don’t try to change the Peanuts from who they are,” Perez says. “We have to bring Charlie Brown along as he constantly fails at being a rock star. We have to give him a shot and prop him up, because he’s usually on the ledge. We bring him back. That’s been the premise of many Peanuts TV specials and movies.”

Jelly of the Month Club’s original song “The Magic Is in the Music” meets Charlie Brown where he’s at, encouraging him to take on the challenge of becoming a guitarist. As he fumbles with his out-of-tune Flying V, looking ready to shred in a thrash band, the crowd cheers for his success despite his self-doubt. When Charlie withdraws during the Elton John number, Dangerously responds by saying that that music can be a safe place when you’re feeling lost, saying “Charlie Brown, you are home.”

“We’re out there singing we ‘want to bark and howl all night’ but we’re teaching Charlie Brown and Snoopy is that it’s not just about your clothes, it’s about what’s in here,” Dangerously says, touching his heart. “It’s important not to take yourself too seriously. We’re showing that it’s OK to have fun. And that silliness is a big, important component of rock and roll.”

This spirit is the core of Snoopy’s Legendary Rooftop Concert on stage and on the floor. At the show I see a sea of grandmas shaking babies’ fists in the air, a little boy in a Woodstock hoodie headbanging, rockers in studded vests with huge smiles on their faces, and teenagers momentarily dropping their defenses against cringe in exchange for a moment of sheer joy.

Hanna and Ellie, teens from South Gate and Silver Lake, respectively, can’t contain themselves, pogoing, screaming and singing along. “I’m at a loss for words,” Hanna says, giggling. The girls agree that the show was better than they expected.

On Snoopy’s rooftop everyone is a rock star: Abbey, a rubber chicken and even Charlie Brown.

The man I’m talking to tells me he has no name.

“Hey” is what he responds to, and he says he can be best described as a “travel agent,” a designation said with a sly smile to clearly indicate it’s code for something more illicit.

About eight of us are crammed with him into a tiny area tucked in the corner of a nightclub. Normally, perhaps, this is a make-up room, but tonight it’s a hideaway where he’ll feed us psychedelics (they’re just mints) to escape the brutalities of the world. It’s also loud, as the sounds of a rambunctious funk band next door work to penetrate the space.

”Close your eyes,” I’m told. I let the mint begin to melt while trying to pretend it’s a gateway to a dream state. The more that mint peddler talks, the more it becomes clear he’s suffering from PTSD from his days in Vietnam. But the mood isn’t somber. We don’t need any make-believe substances to catch his drift, particularly his belief that, even if music may not change the world, at least it can provide some much-needed comfort from it.

“Brassroots District: LA ’74” is part concert, part participatory theater and part experiment, attempting to intermix an evening of dancing and jubilation with high-stakes drama. How it plays out is up to each audience member. Follow the cast, and uncover war tales and visions of how the underground music scene became a refuge for the LGBTQ+ community. Watch the band, and witness a concert almost torn apart as a group on the verge of releasing its debut album weighs community versus cold commerce. Or ignore it all to play dress-up and get a groove on to the music that never stops.

Now running at Catch One, “Brassroots District” aims to concoct a fantasy vision of 1974, but creators Ari Herstand and Andrew Leib aren’t after pure nostalgia. The fictional band at the heart of the show, for instance, is clearly a nod to Sly and the Family Stone, a group whose musical vision of unity and perseverance through social upheaval still feels ahead of its time. “Brassroots District” also directly taps into the history of Catch One, with a character modeled after the club’s pioneering founder Jewel Thais-Williams, a vital figure on the L.A. music scene who envisioned a sanctuary for Black queer women and men as well as trans, gay and musically adventurous revelers.

“This is the era of Watergate and Nixon and a corrupt president,” Herstand says, noting that the year of 1974 was chosen intentionally. “There’s very clear political parallels from the early ‘70s to 2026. We don’t want to smack anyone in the face over it, but we want to ask the questions about where we’ve come from.”

This isn’t the first time a version of “Brassroots District” has been staged. Herstand, a musician and author, and Leib, an artist manager, have been honing the concept for a decade. It began as an idea that came to Herstand while he spent time staying with extended family in New Orleans to work on his book, “How to Make it in the New Music Business.” And it initially started as just a band, and perhaps a way to create an excitement around a new group.

Yet as the pair became smitten with immersive theater — a term that typically implies some form of active involvement on the part of the audience, most often via interacting and improvising with actors — Brassroots District the band gradually became “Brassroots District” the show. Like many in the space, Herstand credits the long-running New York production “Sleep No More” with hipping him to the scene.

“It’s really about an alternative experience to a traditional proscenium show, giving the audience autonomy to explore,” Herstand says.

Eleven actors perform in the show, directed by DeMone Seraphin and written with input from L.A. immersive veterans Chris Porter (the Speakeasy Society) and Lauren Ludwig (Capital W). I interacted with only a handful of them, but “Brassroots District” builds to a participatory finale that aims to get the whole audience moving when the band jumps into the crowd for a group dance. The night is one of wish fulfillment for music fans, offering the promise of behind-the-stage action as well as an idealized vision of funk’s communal power.

Working in the favor of “Brassroots District” is that, ultimately, it is a concert. Brassroots District, the group, released its debut “Welcome to the Brassroots District” at the top of this year, and audience members who may not want to hunt down or chase actors can lean back and watch the show, likely still picking up on its broad storyline of a band weighing a new recording contract with a potentially sleazy record executive. Yet Herstand and Leib estimate that about half of those in attendance want to dig a little deeper.

At the show’s opening weekend this past Saturday, I may even wager it was higher than that. When a mid-concert split happens that forces the band’s two co-leaders — Herstand as Copper Jones and Celeste Butler Clayton as Ursa Major — to bolt from the stage, the audience immediately knew to follow them into the other room, even as the backing band played on. Leib, borrowing a term from the video game world, describes these as “side quests,” moments in which the audience can better get to know the performers, the club owner and the act’s manager.

Yet those who stay in the main stage will still get some show moments, as here is where a journalist will confront a record executive. Both will linger around the floor and chat with willing guests, perhaps even offering them a business card with a number to call after the show to further the storyline beyond the confines of the club. If all goes according to plan, the audience will start to feel like performers. In fact, the central drama of “Brassroots District” is often kicked off by an attendee finding some purposely left-behind props that allude to the group’s record label drama. Actors, say Herstand, will “loosely guide” players to the right spot, if need be.

“The point is,” says Leib, “that you as an audience member are also kind of putting on a character. You can stir the spot.” And with much of the crowd in their ‘70s best and smartphones strictly forbidden — they are placed in bags prior to the show beginning — you may need a moment to figure out who the actors are, but a microphone usually gives it a way.

“They’re a heightened version of themselves,” Herstand says of the audience’s penchant to come in costumes to “Brassroots District,” although it is not necessary.

“Brassroots District,” which is about two hours in length, is currently slated to run through the end of March, but Herstand and Leib hope it becomes a long-running performance. Previous iterations with different storylines ran outdoors, as it was first staged in the months following the worst days of the pandemic. Inside, at places such as Catch One, was always the goal, the pair say, and the two leaned into the venue’s history.

“It’s in the bones of the building that this was a respite for queer men and the Black community,” Leib says. “There’s a bit of like, this is a safe space to be yourself. We’re baking in some of these themes in the show. It’s resistance through art and music.”

Such a message comes through in song. One of the band’s central tunes is “Together,” an allusion to Sly and the Family Stone’s “Everyday People.” It’s a light-stepping number built around finger snaps and the vision of a better world.

“We are stronger when we unite,” Herstand says. “That is the hook of the song, and what we’re really trying to do is bring people together. That is how we feel we actually can change society.”

And on this night, that’s exactly what progress looks like — an exuberant party that extends a hand for everyone to dance with a neighbor.

Published on
11/02/2026 – 17:52 GMT+1

Spotify stocks spiked 6% higher at market opening this Wednesday, later paring down some of its gains, after the company released its earnings report on Tuesday.

The popular music platform closed 2025 with a little over €2.2bn in net profits which represents a 94% increase, almost double what was achieved the year prior.

The positive result reinforced the historic turnaround the firm accomplished since 2024, when it became profitable on the year for the first time. Before then, Spotify operated at a loss for almost two decades after being founded in 2006.

Last year, the music streaming platform grew in users by 11% and in paying subscribers by 10%. Additionally, Spotify also cut costs and increased prices in several markets achieving a 33.1% profit margin, the highest in its history.

A substantial part of the success in 2025 occurred towards the end of the year, when the company hit a total of 751 million monthly active users (MAUs), after its biggest quarterly increase in activity.

For the first quarter of 2026, Spotify is projecting a continuation of this trajectory. The report points to around €4,5bn in revenue and 759 million MAUs.

The Swedish executive chairman and founder, Daniel Ek, who resigned from the CEO position last month, stated in the earnings call that Spotify has “built a platform for audio but increasingly to all other ways in which creators connect to the public”.

The new CEO, Alex Norström, also declared that “after a year of execution, 2026 will be the year of elevating ambition”.

Music industry and AI

The impact of Spotify’s growth in 2025 was also felt outside the company, in the music industry as a whole.

The firm paid out more than €11bn to artists last year which the earnings report states is “the largest annual payment to music creators by any platform in history”.

Moreover, the Swedish company stated that “we also helped artists generate over one billion dollars in ticket sales, connecting fans to live events”.

Going forward, one of Spotify’s biggest bets is on AI integration, as is the case for most tech companies.

The firm has accelerated the launch of tools such as a playlist generator based on prompts, and a personalised agentic DJ, which have already been used by millions of paying subscribers.

However, artificial intelligence is also presenting new problems for Spotify such as AI-generated music. In the earnings call, the co-CEO, Gustav Söderström, stated that “the issue isn’t new but it has scaled”.

Söderström added that the company is working closely with the music industry to allow artists and record labels to include disclaimers specifying the production methods.

Britney Spears scored the early 2000s with hits from “Oops!… I Did It Again” to “Toxic.”

Now, the rights to those songs will belong to music publishing company Primary Wave after Spears reportedly signed a major new deal, according to NBC News. The outlet approximated the deal was for $200 million, and details of the sale were not disclosed.

Primary Wave, which was founded 20 years ago with the acquisition of 50% interest and partnership in Kurt Cobain’s music publishing catalog, also owns songs from the catalogs of music legends Bob Marley, Stevie Nicks and Whitney Houston, among others.

Representatives for Primary Wave and Spears did not immediately respond to The Times’ requests for comment.

Music rights acquisitions have become increasingly popular investments in recent years as the recorded music industry has boomed with the advent of streaming. With access to sprawling libraries on Spotify and Apple Music, consumers are listening to albums and artist catalogs at higher rates, and older artists are more prone to popping back into the zeitgeist. Licensing for movies and TV is also booming, and with Y2K nostalgia permeating today’s media, Spears may be selling at an opportune time.

Trade publication Music Business Worldwide estimated that more than $5 billion changed hands through music rights acquisitions in 2021, The Times previously reported. Additionally, songwriting catalogs at that time were being valued at twice the average price than in the 25 years prior.

Notable sellers include Bruce Springsteen, who in 2021 made a deal with Sony Music Entertainment to relinquish his master recordings and songs for $500 million. Shortly thereafter, David Bowie‘s estate sold his songwriting catalog to Warner Chappell Music for $250 million. ZZ Top, Tina Turner and Paul Simon all made similar deals around the same time.

Spears in 2023 released her memoir, “The Woman in Me,” which recounted her rise to fame and yearslong battle to escape a conservatorship she was placed under in 2008 for alleged mental health concerns. Music writer Jeff Weiss’ 2025 book, “Waiting for Britney Spears: A True Story, Allegedly,” included details — some true, some fabricated — from that highly publicized time in the singer’s life.

Spears’ ex-husband Kevin Federline followed the “Gimme More” singer’s memoir with last year’s “You Thought You Knew,” in which he accused Spears of consuming cocaine while she was still breastfeeding their second son, among other alleged concerning behaviors. Spears denied the allegations on social media.

Former Times staff writer Ryan Faughnder contributed to this report.

In a historic gain, Spotify saw a record increase of 38 million monthly active users at the end of 2025.

According to the streamer’s fourth-quarter earnings report released Tuesday, the Sweden-based company reported an 11% increase in monthly active users, bringing the total to 751 million. It’s the biggest net add in the company’s history. There was similarly a 10% increase in paid subscribers, rising to 290 million. Spotify’s total revenue also topped $5.3 billion, up 7%.

The company credits much of last quarter’s success to what it says was its biggest Wrapped campaign yet, which engaged 300 million users globally and had 630 million shares in 56 different languages. Spotify also expanded and enhanced tech features globally, like adding music videos and more access to audiobooks, for both premium and free subscribers.

“Today, what we’ve really built is a technology platform for audio — and increasingly, for all the ways creators connect with audiences. And this identity will matter even more going forward,” said Daniel Ek, Spotify’s founder and executive chairman, in a press release.

“The next wave of technology shifts — AI, new interfaces, wearables, new ways of interacting with content — these will reshape how people discover and experience audio and media. The hard problems ahead — in music, in podcasts, in books, in video, in live, and in things we haven’t built yet — we’re going to keep building the technology to solve them.”

The company’s operating income rose 47% to $834 million. At the end of the fourth quarter, there were 7,323 full-time employees globally.

Spotify’s ad-supported revenue was down 4%, with the company looking at a partial “offset by softness in pricing” for its music advertising. Its podcasts’ expansion was led mostly by sponsorships. But the revenue was similarly “offset by optimization of our podcasting inventory.”

Just in the last few months, Spotify has focused heavily on its podcasting services — in part by opening a new Hollywood studio, expanding creator monetization programs and premiering select video podcasts on Netflix in a new partnership.

On the music side, the streaming platform previously reported that it paid out more than $11 billion to the music industry last year. That sum was the “largest annual payment to music from any retailer in history,” according to Spotify.

When the music streaming business model was first introduced, there was controversy about how much artists would earn from streams. But the company said independent artists and labels accounted for half of all royalties.

Founded in 2006, the company maintains a large presence in L.A.’s Arts District. Over the last two decades, it has become the world’s most popular audio streaming subscription service. Beyond its music library, it now reports having more than 530,000 video podcasts and over 500,000 audiobooks in English-language markets.

Starting this month, Spotify also raised its prices for premium users to $12.99. For the first quarter of 2026, the company expects an increase of 8 million monthly active users, bringing its total closer to 759 million users and a smaller, 3-million bump in paying users. The company projects total revenue to stay consistent at around $5.3 billion.

Chappell Roan has left her booking agency, Wasserman Music, over its founder Casey Wasserman’s ties to the late Jeffrey Epstein and convicted child sex trafficker Ghislaine Maxwell.

“As of today, I am no longer represented by Wasserman, the talent agency led by Casey Wasserman,” Roan wrote on Monday in a post to social media. “I hold my teams to the highest standards and have a duty to protect them as well. No artist, agent or employee should ever be expected to defend or overlook actions that conflict so deeply with our own moral values. I have deep respect and appreciation for the agents and staff who work tirelessly for their artists and I refuse to passively stand by. Artists deserve representation that aligns with their values and supports their safety and dignity. This decision reflects my belief that meaningful change in our industry requires accountability and leadership that earns trust.”

Roan had been represented by Jackie Nalpant, Kiely Mosiman, Adele Slater and Anna Bewers at Wasserman. It’s unclear whether her agents will follow her out the door of the embattled agency; representatives for Roan did not immediately return a request for comment.

Roan is the highest-profile act to leave Wasserman after the release of the most recent batch of Epstein documents. Billie Eilish previously left the agency in 2024 after separate allegations of Wasserman’s sexual misconduct surfaced. For now, the agency still represents other A-list talent including Kendrick Lamar, Coldplay and Tyler, the Creator, though many in the industry suspect a wave of departures is coming.

Casey Wasserman — a powerful figure in sports and entertainment who leads Los Angeles’ 2028 Olympics committee and his eponymous talent agency — came under fresh scrutiny after he surfaced in a new batch of federal documents released as part of an investigation into the late sex trafficker Epstein and his associate Maxwell.

Wasserman has said in a statement to media: “I deeply regret my correspondence with Ghislaine Maxwell which took place over two decades ago, long before her horrific crimes came to light. I never had a personal or business relationship with Jeffrey Epstein. As is well documented, I went on a humanitarian trip as part of a delegation with the Clinton Foundation in 2002 on the Epstein plane. I am terribly sorry for having any association with either of them.”

Wasserman has previously admitted to flying with Epstein on the financier’s private plane on a trip to Africa with Maxwell and former President Clinton. In newly surfaced messages to Maxwell, who is serving a lengthy prison sentence for sex trafficking of minors, Wasserman wrote: “I thought we would start at that place that you know of, and then continue the massage concept into your bed … and then again in the morning … not sure if or when we would stop.” She responded: “Umm — all that rubbing — are you sure you can take it? The thought frankly is leaving me a little breathless. There are a few spots that apparently drive a man wild — I suppose I could practise them on you and you could let me know if they work or not?”

Local politicians have called for Wasserman to leave the Olympic committee. “I think Casey Wasserman needs to step down,” said L.A. County Supervisor Janice Hahn. “Having him represent us on the world stage distracts focus from our athletes and the enormous effort needed to prepare for 2028.”

Last week, Bethany Cosentino, the solo artist and founder of the band Best Coast, left the agency over Wasserman’s Epstein ties, saying: “We are tired of learning, over and over, that men who control access, resources, money and so-called safety in our industry are given endless grace. We are tired of being asked to treat proximity to something horrific as an unfortunate situation we should simply move past — especially when the person involved still holds all the power.”

John Mayer calls it “adult day care”: the historic recording studio behind the arched gates on La Brea Avenue where famous musicians have been keeping themselves — and one another — creatively occupied since the mid-1960s. Known for decades as Henson Studios — and as A&M Studios before that — the 3-acre complex in the heart of Hollywood has played host to the creation of some of music’s most celebrated records, among them Carole King’s “Tapestry,” Joni Mitchell’s “Blue,” Guns N’ Roses’ “Use Your Illusion” and D’Angelo’s “Black Messiah.” Charlie Chaplin, who was born in London, began building the lot in 1917 in a white-and-brown English Tudor style; he went on to direct some of his best-known films, including “Modern Times” and “The Great Dictator,” on the property. In 1966, Herb Alpert and Jerry Moss bought the place and made it the base for their A&M Records; they converted two of the lot’s soundstages into high-end recording studios that drew the likes of Sergio Mendes, the Carpenters, Stevie Nicks, U2 and John Lennon.

In 1985, A&M’s parquet-floored Studio A was where Quincy Jones gathered the all-star congregation that recorded “We Are the World” in a marathon overnight session; in 2014, Daft Punk evoked the studios’ wood-paneled splendor in a performance of “Get Lucky” with Stevie Wonder at the 56th Grammy Awards.

Now, with an eye on preserving the spot at a moment of widespread upheaval in the entertainment industry, Mayer and his business partner, the filmmaker McG, have finalized a purchase of the lot, which they bought for $44 million from the family of the late Muppets creator Jim Henson and which they’ve renamed Chaplin Studios in honor of the silent-film giant who broke ground on it more than a century ago.

Moth has made it to the final of The Masked Singer but the mystery star, whose identity is not yet know, couldn’t hold back the tears after performing a Disney song

Moth burst into tears following their performance on The Masked Singer. The mystery celebrity, who has made it to the final of the hit ITV competition series, gave a rendition of Colours of the Wind from Pocahontas, originally sung by Judy Kuhn in the 19995 animation.

Following the performance, judges Davina McCall, Mo Gilligan, Maya Jama and and Jonathan Ross were clearly moved and Davina noted just how “emotional” it was.

She added: “That was really breathtaking. Stunning. Thank you!” It was then that Moth could be heard quietly crying underneath the costume. Mo heard it and said: “I don’t know if Moth is crying under there?” to which the star nodded. Mo exlaimed: “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Now I’m going to cry!”

READ MORE: The Masked Singer’s Sloth revealed as Ben Fogle leaving judges stunnedREAD MORE: JLS’ Marvin Humes revealed as The Masked Singer’s Can of Worms in shock twist

Davina added: “That really was something else, thank you” and Moth received a huge round of applause from the audience. This all happened just moments before JLS star Marvin Humes was unmasked, having been performing as Can of Worms for weeks.

Speaking after his exit from the show, Marvin, who is married to fellow pop star and presenter Rochelle Humes, said: “That was the whole thing. When I talked about doing the show, I wanted to be completely across the board. My first song was Be Our Guest from Beauty and the Beast.

“It’s a big tune to be fair. And then Ghostbusters and then Temperature. Then Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Pure Imagination, which is one of my favourite songs.

“I drive my kids mad singing that at home when we’re watching the movie. And then tonight, Cha Cha Slide. Who doesn’t love Cha Cha Slide ?”

Marvin, who has also had a host of presenting gigs on programmes like This Morning and The Hit List, shot to fame as part of JLS on The X Factor in 2008, and they launched a greatest hits tour last year, but admitted that it was “strange” to have performed solo for the first time in a while.

He said: “Do you know what, what’s really strange for me is I haven’t sung by myself in a long time. I’m used to being with three other guys on stage and that’s quite a comfort. A bit of security. Although I’m completely masked, it’s still been quite strange being out on my own singing.

His exit came as part of double elimination, along with TV presenter Ben Fogle, who had been singing as Sloth. Despite not being a singer, Ben later explained that he just embraced the opportunity and loved getting the chance to cover a theatre classic.

He said: “I really enjoyed it. I’ve never done any singing, but I really loved doing it. Actually, there was one song, which was actually my sing-off song, Flash Bang Wallop from Half a Sixpence, for me, that was the song I really wanted to do because my mother was in the original musical.

“I remember watching it as a child, multiple times, and that song was just so joyous. So to get to sing that on a stage, in front of an audience with no one knowing who I was, was super super fun.

The Masked Singer finale airs Saturday at 7pm on ITV1 and ITVX. Like this story? For more of the latest showbiz news and gossip, follow Mirror Celebs on TikTok , Snapchat , Instagram , Twitter , Facebook , YouTube and Threads .