music

Two new stars will be joining the latest Celebrity Gogglebox line-up as they showcase their TV opinions on the popular Channel 4 show

Rock stars and longtime friends are joining the Celebrity Gogglebox sofa this week.

Making their debut on the show, Jake Shears and Josh Homme will give their opinions on the week’s biggest TV moments, combining their close friendship with their signature wit.

Best known for fronting Scissor Sisters and Queens of the Stone Age, Jake and Josh have spent years performing to huge crowds around the world and building careers that have sold millions of records.

This time, they’ll be watching from the comfort of the sofa, sharing their candid, entertaining reactions to the programmes that have everyone talking.

Talking about his appearance, Jake said: “Josh and I have spent years making noise for a living, so sitting on a sofa and talking over the television felt surprisingly natural. We laughed far more than we probably should have and somehow got away with calling it work. It was a longtime dream to be part of Celebrity Gogglebox.”

Meanwhile, Josh said: “You’ve never watched anyone watch TV until you’ve watched Josh and Jake watching TV. And then you know you’ve watched it. So set your watch for 9pm on Friday. We are breaking ground that should largely have gone unbroken.”

It’s a busy week for Queens of the Stone Age frontman Josh, as the band has unveiled plans for their new album, Everything Under The Sun.

The upcoming release marks the American rock group’s first studio album in three years. They also dropped the lead single, Easy Street, on Tuesday, featuring guest vocals from Nikki Lane.

Fans may already recognise the song after it made its live debut during the band’s Catacombs tour last year.

Elsewhere in the new series of Celebrity Gogglebox, singer Mollie King will be joined on the sofa by her partner, former England cricketer Stuart Broad.

Olivia Attwood has been taking part in the latest series alongside her mum, while her partner Pete Wicks has been appearing separately with his close friend Vicky Pattison.

The new season has also welcomed back a host of familiar faces, including Vernon Kay and Paddy McGuinness, Bez and Shaun, Roman and Martin Kemp, Ashley Banjo and Perri Kiely, Nick Grimshaw with his niece Liv, the Mangans, and Rylan, who once again joins his mum Linda on the sofa.

Celebrity Gogglebox airs this Friday at 9pm on Channel 4.

A BRIT R&B singer has quietly welcomed her second child with her music producer husband.

Cleo Sol, 38, surprised fans when she revealed she had given birth to another baby, after keeping her pregnancy a secret.

The singer revealed that she and her record producer husband Inflo, real name Dean Josiah Cover, are now settling into life again as parents with a newborn.

Cleo, who shot to fame in the noughties, revealed her happy news on Instagram.

She posted a slew of photos which started with her pregnancy bump, and ended with her holding her newborn baby.

Cleo captioned the sweet snaps with: “Out of words right now, but grateful.”

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The star’s fans rushed to share their joy at her happy news, with one writing: “Congratulations Angel!!”

Another said: “Happy for you sista!! Blessings to your beloved family!!”

A third commented: “Omg omg! Congratulations the family is growing!”

The singer and husband Inflo first became parents in 2021, when they welcomed their first baby.

Cleo shot into the spotlight in the noughties, and was known for hits like When I’m In Your Arms, Promises, Why Don’t You, and Life Will Be.

Before finding fame, the singer would upload her music to MySpace.

In 2008, Cleo got her big break when Tinie Tempah asked her to sing the chorus on his song Tears

Following this, she got a record deal and started making music of her own.

However, by 2013, Cleo decided she no longer wanted to be in the spotlight and retreated from fame.

“I wasn’t happy,” she admitted in an interview in 2019, when she returned to music.

“And I was attaching my happiness to my music, so I wanted to quit music completely.

“Which still makes me sad when I think about it.” For four years, she retired from music entirely.

“I wasn’t being true to myself, and I was listening to everyone else’s advice on my career other than myself.

“I had lost faith in myself. I didn’t know how to pick myself up again.”

However, after returning to the R&B scene seven years ago, Cleo continues to make music with her husband and also perform.

Activists say Moroccan authorities are intensifying repression of critical voices and the Gen Z protest movement.

Politically outspoken Moroccan artist, rapper, and filmmaker Mehdi El Youbi has been arrested in Casablanca, days after being barred from returning to France, where he has been based since 2017.

El Youbi, better known by his stage name Mehdi Black Wind, was detained on Monday night after being questioned by Morocco’s National Brigade of Judicial Police in Casablanca, according to a statement from a group of his friends and supporters.

“After a day of questioning, his family were informed at around 9pm that he had been taken into police custody and was due to appear before the public prosecutor on Wednesday”, the statement said. “According to the latest information, his arrest is believed to be linked to his artistic views and posts on social media.”

El Youbi, born in 1992, is widely known in Morocco and across North Africa for his rap songs heavily influenced by US hip-hop. He rose to prominence in the early 2010s, at the same time as the Arab Spring, with songs that caught the attention of the authorities for their politically engaged lyrics.

“When I return home, I’m afraid of being arrested or banned from the country,” El Youbi told French music magazine Mosaique Magazine in December 2025. “Many people try to depoliticise art or sport, but I believe that every committed artist, every activist, or anyone who takes risks lives between boldness and fear.”

El Youbi is “the best rapper in North Africa and it’s not close”, Algerian journalist Maher Mezahi said on X.

Omar Radi, a Moroccan investigative journalist and human rights activist who was previously jailed in Morocco for criticising a judge, told Al Jazeera that El Youbi is “the most outspoken and politically direct Moroccan rapper”.

“There is a deliberate attempt to stamp out any possibility of criticism of the government or police methods, whether within civil society and the press, or in artistic circles or amongst football supporters,” Radi said.

El Youbi’s detention comes a day after the arrest of Moroccan journalist Ali Lmrabet, which was condemned by the Committee to Protect Journalists, and two weeks after Zineb Kharroubi, a leading figure in the Gen Z 212 activist movement, was given a six-month suspended prison sentence after being found guilty of “incitement to commit crimes or offences by electronic means”.

A supporter of El Youbi said that these developments reflect “intensified repression linked to the Gen Z movement”, referring to the youth-led protest movement that emerged last year in Morocco demanding better health services and education reforms.

El Youbi is due to appear before the public prosecutor on Wednesday morning. His supporters said they were concerned that he may have to appear without a lawyer, as lawyers in Morocco are currently on strike.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Victoria Stevens)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The FIFA World Cup 2026 Final Halftime Show is expected to have one more surprise performer not yet formally announced

The FIFA World Cup 2026 Final Halftime Show will feature some of the biggest performers in the world – but there’s one more surprise on the way for fans.

Some huge names will take part in a special show curated by Chris Martin from Coldplay including Madonna and Justin Bieber as well as Shakira and Burna Boy, Gustavo Dudamel and BTS.

The famous faces will all co-headline a special show, which similar to the Superbowl Halftime show, will take place on Sunday, 19 July 2026, at New York New Jersey Stadium when the final two teams take on one another.

Currently, it is between the four semi finalists, with either France or Spain taking on either England or Argentina in the competition. By Wednesday night, following the second semi-final, we will know who will play against one another in the final.

The show will last 11 minutes, and will support the Fifa Global Citizen Education Fund. Shakira and Burna Boy are likely to perform their song Dai Dai, which is the official anthem for the 2026 World Cup.

However, there is one performer yet to formally be announced. It has been reported that Italian popstar Laura Pausini will be joined by none other than Robbie Williams for a performance of their official FIFA anthem, Desire.

“Robbie loves football and is excited to play at this momentous gig. Of course, he hopes England will be one of the teams in the final,” a source told The Sun of the Angels singer’s inclusion in the festivities.

Robbie and Laura were also on hand to perform during the the FIFA Club World Cup 2025 final match between Chelsea FC and Paris Saint-Germain in July last year, where they wowed with their song.

Oasis star Noel Gallagher is less than impressed by the changes to have a half-time show.

“I’m doing the half-time raffle for a leg of lamb,” he quipped to TalkSport, before adding: “I don’t like changes in football. I’m looking forward to these new rules about corners and time-wasting, that might be a good thing for the game, but I don’t like the razzmatazz of football; it’s been functioning perfectly for hundreds of years.” Noel also questioned whether any of the performers had any links to football and why they had been chosen specifically.

During the big announcement, Chris Martin appeared with Sesame Street characters including Elmo. He said: “Well, this year for the first time, there’s a halftime show at the World Cup Final! It’s where people get together and there’s singing, and there’s dancing, and there’s music. It’s a chance to show how amazing all different kinds of humans are. And monsters, aliens – it’s one big family, really.”

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Last March, the L.A. Times had proclaimed that Nathy Peluso had found her musical language. Later that year, the Argentine singer decided to mix things up by releasing her 2025 EP, “Malportada.”

In a departure from her urbano and alternative leanings blended with notes of R&B, the six-song EP was a straightforward, traditional salsa offering that featured a collaboration with Venezuelan salsa hybrid band Rawayana on the title track.

“My experience being a woman and making music has always been to talk about my freedom [and] how I feel,” she told The Times in a recent interview inside the famous Amoeba Music record store in Hollywood. “Salsa seems to me like a stage that invites one to express themselves fully, speak loudly, dance freely and feel powerful.”

Peluso had previously dabbled in the salsa genre with tracks like 2020’s “Puro Veneno,” 2021’s “Mafiosa” and the 2025 salsa erótica tune “Erotika,” but had never dedicated an entire project to the Caribbean musical styling.

The pivot by the 31-year-old artist was especially bold as she had previously been accused of cultural appropriation for recording salsa tunes.

“It’s [my] function in society,” Peluso previously told The Times in a 2025 interview when asked about the criticism of her salsa jams. “I’m not the kind of artist who’s complacent or politically correct. I don’t do anything with the intention of pleasing others. I chose the mission of bringing salsa back to the present because I’m passionate about it. If a genre gives me so many wonderful sensations, I want everybody else to feel them as well. As long as people argue, they will have to listen to the songs — and as a result, they will listen to salsa.”

Peluso’s gamble paid off — as “Malportada” was so well-received by critics, fans and the wider salsa community that she managed to get herself booked as the co-headliner for the Hollywood Bowl’s upcoming Salsa Spectacular on Wednesday.

Over the last few years, salsa music has enjoyed a bit of a renaissance — thanks in part to the success of Bad Bunny’s universally acclaimed album “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” — which featured the salsa fusion hits “Baile Inolvidable” and “Nuevayol” — and Rauw Alejandro’s 2024 LP “Cosa Nuestra.”

But for Peluso, her integration into the salsa world was a long time coming.

“I grew up listening to Gloria Estefan, I fell in love with [the 2000 album] ‘Alma Caribeña,’ I fell in love with the richness of that music,” said Peluso. “I’ve had a strong relationship with salsa music since I was young, even though I didn’t grew up in a place that was a cradle for that genre.”

Peluso was born in the Argentine city of Luján and lived there until she was 9, when her family moved to Spain, eventually settling in the southeastern city of Alicante.

In addition to Estefan, she cited inspiration from Nuyorican percussionist Ray Barretto, Puerto Rican salsa orchestra El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico and genre icons Héctor Lavoe and Willie Colón.

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

“Throughout my career, I’ve always flirted with the genre,” Peluso said. “After doing the press for [the 2024 album] ‘Grasa’ there reached a point where I realized I was ready to make my salsa record, and it just happened to coincide with the current salsa boom.”

While paying respect to the musical tradition, Peluso also imbued her spin on the genre with some of the swaggering feminine energy often found in urbano music — as is evidenced in the “Malportada” track “A Caballo.”

“I grew up listening to a lot of masculine salsa and I thought it would be interesting to approach that type of energy from a woman’s perspective,” she explained. “[To take] all these stories of danger and sex and desire that the genre is known for, but give them a feminine spin.”

Peluso further bolstered her salsa bona fides when she teamed up with a pair of Caribbean music legends over the last year.

In September, she collaborated with her idol Estefan for a remix of the 1993 track “Chirriqui Chirri.” The duo performed the explosive song at the 2025 Latin Grammy Awards show. In February, Peluso jumped in the studio with Puerto Rican salsero Marc Anthony to record the original track “Como en el Idilio.”

“It was so awesome to sing with [Anthony] because he is one of the all-time legends we have in salsa who expanded the genre worldwide,” Peluso said. “It was a blessing to sing with Marc and Gloria in this moment of my career in which I’ve decided to represent salsa from my point of view.”

For her Hollywood Bowl gig, Peluso will be accompanied by the Colombian salsa collective Grupo Niche, a Grammy- and Latin Grammy-winning group that has been around since the late ’70s.

“I’ve admired Grupo Niche for years,” Peluso said. “We met at the Latin Grammys a few years ago and really hit it off. A little while back, when I was offered to do the Hollywood Bowl show alongside them, it was a no-brainer.”

But the biggest honor that Peluso is looking forward to is playing the hallowed stage of the Hollywood Bowl.

“It’s like playing in a palace for me,” she said of the historic venue. “The last time I was in L.A. for the ‘Grasa’ tour, I left wanting more. I knew I’d have to waiting until my next tour to try it, but I didn’t expect my next tour to come so quickly. It’s such a mythical place, it’s such a luxury.”

Yo-Yo Ma closed his eyes as he drew a bow slowly across his cello, playing the first notes of the Catalan lullaby “The Song of the Birds.” But this venue wasn’t like any vaulted concert hall he had toured globally.

At Maywood’s Riverfront Park, Ma was accompanied by the vroom of nearby traffic, cascade of a yucca rainstick and burbling hum of a water synth. An oblivious biker pushed past the world-renowned classical musician. The music flowed on.

Ma’s pop-up show in Southeast Los Angeles was part of his ongoing efforts to highlight people’s relationship to nature through music. He is among a new wave of artists who have been hosting shows along the L.A. River, a waterway with a complex history.

Yo-Yo Ma plays cello for a small group of artists and environmental advocates as part of the L.A. Phil Insight program, which aims to spark conversations around the arts.

(Halline Overby for InsightLA)

The river once terrorized Angelenos; its unconstrained flow was prone to flooding until most of its 51 miles were lined with concrete starting in the 1940s. While it’s been neglected, trashed and often forgotten over time, myriad governmental and nonprofit groups have been working for years to restore habitat, add park space and establish recreational elements (sometimes in conflict over the vision). And recently, creatives and activists, who dream of transforming it into a hospitable greenway, have been hosting arts events.

“Awareness around the river itself is changing,” said Maria Meija, executive director of L.A. River Arts, one of the organizations bringing attention to its history and cultural significance through public programming. She sees the serpentine stretch of the river as a natural highway that connects Angelenos from the San Fernando Valley to Long Beach. “We believe that if the river is properly activated as a green and cultural landscape, then Angelenos will fundamentally also get to experience Los Angeles in a different way.”

The River Solstice Festival was a family affair, with guests lounging on picnic blankets, watching puppet and opera performances and participating in birdwatching.

(Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)

Visions of those possibilities were realized on the summer solstice in mid-June at L.A. River Arts’ inaugural River Solstice Festival at an Elysian Valley park abutting a soft-bottomed area of the river known as the Glendale Narrows.

Children and parents applauded the performances by the Bob Baker Marionette Theater and opera singer San Cha at Lewis MacAdams Riverfront Park in what’s otherwise known as Frogtown. Attendees also gathered for guided bird-watching along the bike path by the water. Four-year-old Juni Wahab was entranced by the sight of the swallows and cormorants swooping low overhead and the rushing twists of water.

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1. Bob Baker Marionette Theater performs at the River Solstice Festival, clockwise from top left. Meanwhile, attendees enjoy the park and river as skateboarders roll down the bike path. (Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)

“It’s going so fast,” Wahab said, wiggling and pointing as her aunt held on tightly for safety. “There are so many waves.”

A quick stroll upstream, a group of DJs unaffiliated with the family-friendly festival hosted a day party aimed at Gen Z and millennial attendees, perched on one of the channel’s outcrops. Roughly a dozen people at the if-you-know-you-know event grooved and shuffled to EDM music while kayak enthusiasts paddled by and locals fished for carp.

Dominic Tsoi drove from Orange County to spin at the open decks hosted by the DJ collective Helipad Society. “This event really resonated with me, because it mixes two things that I really love, music and being a part of nature,” said Tsoi, adding the commute was worth it. An indoors club setting can feel stifling, but outdoors is where Tsoi feels free.

DJs have been putting on pop-up events like this one at the L.A. River and sharing videos of their sets on TikTok.

(Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)

Just up the sloped bank, Antonio Solano and Erick Torres were sweeping outside their tent, where they live under the Glendale Freeway. Torres started noticing events at the river increase over the last three years.

“It gets people together,” said Torres, who’s been living above the river for over a decade. The music is a source of pleasure even as Torres and Solano stay vigilant to avoid city encampment sweeps. “It’s good, we enjoy it.”

Social media has driven interest in these DIY events as artists playing ambient music against a backdrop of verdant green have gone viral on TikTok.

“The attention has expanded to people who otherwise wouldn’t have given the L.A. River a second thought,” said Noah Klein, a lifelong Angeleno who has hosted popular river jams over the last two years through his Living Earth public art series.

Erika Apelgren wears a flower crown that she made at the River Solstice Festival.

(Ariana Drehsler/For The Times)

People don’t need approval to host these impromptu gatherings, said Dash Stolarz, director of public affairs at the Mountains Recreation and Conservation Authority. The park agency oversees commercial use of the L.A. River recreation zones in Elysian Valley and the Sepulveda Basin, another section of soft-bottomed riverbed.

In her 25 years on the job, this was the first time Stolarz had heard of people using the riverfront for mini concerts. She was excited by the ingenuity of artists; as long as people aren’t charging for events, they don’t need permission.

“It’s exactly how we envisioned people enjoying the river,” Stolarz said. “We want people to use the river like a park.”

Though unlike a regular park, the L.A. River is primarily treated as a flood control channel, so park rangers carefully monitor for rain when the recreation zones open for leisure, like kayaking, during the summer.

While appreciating the L.A. River can be a good thing, social media algorithms can flatten the context around the waterway, particularly when it comes to demographic changes in nearby neighborhoods.

“The City of L.A.’s greatest skill is the erasure of its own history, and the L.A. River kind of feels like the perfect encapsulation of this,” Klein said.

Once home to mostly working-class Latino families, neighborhoods along the river in northeast L.A. have seen home prices surge for years. To preserve the history of these neighborhoods, Clockshop, an arts organization, has been collecting interviews with locals as part of a multimedia oral history project since 2023. The project includes everything from videos of an Indigenous musician performing a song about water in the Tongva language to brothers worrying about the future of their family’s 60-year-old pickle business in the face of gentrification.

Jon Christensen, director of the Laboratory for Environmental Narrative Strategies at UCLA, said river revitalization can be part of a “green gentrification cycle” as new development pushes out old communities. Like the chicken-and-egg paradox, it’s hard to tell which comes first: the amenities surrounding the L.A. River or the more affluent people seeking them.

Yo-Yo Ma, who hosts a podcast called “Our Common Nature,” chats with attendees at his intimate river concert. Human connection to the natural world is among his passions.

(Halline Overby for InsightLA)

Christensen hopes artists engaging with the river spurs conversation for more equitable green investments that benefit communities and the environment. “When people are more connected to nature, they want to support nature more,” Christensen said of his studies on how people connect to the outdoors. “It’s really kind of a virtuous cycle there.”

Cindy Donis, a water organizer with East Yard Communities for Environmental Justice, said artwork can also raise awareness around inequities. While there are aspirations to turn the river into a greenbelt, nightmarish pollution incidents have still haunted Southeast L.A. communities.

Ma’s performance was nearly canceled in May due to 25,000 gallons of crude oil that spilled into the L.A. River after a pipeline rupture in Boyle Heights. Weeks later, the Lineage warehouse fire sent even more debris and pollution downstream. Donis said multiple people reached out with complaints of a foul smell emanating from the river. Miles away, some at the River Solstice Festival wore masks due to poor air quality caused by the fire.

Charles Kelley with his daughter Zirah Kelley pose along the L.A. River bike path near the River Solstice Festival.

(Ariana Drehsler/For The Times)

Earlier this year, East Yard Communities for Environmental Justice held an exhibition at Art Space Huntington Park called “We Are Water” to uplift local Indigenous artists. “Art really allows and embraces healing,” Donis said. “It’s another tool that allows us to process these feelings and get closer to the solutions as a community.”

The L.A. River inspired Arturo Gonzalez to found his arts education nonprofit that focuses on gang intervention among young people in East L.A. As Ma performed in the park, Gonzalez stood in the river basin, spray-painting in neon-pink blockbuster letters the name of his organization, East Side of the River, onto pillars under Slauson Avenue.

As a teenager in the early 2000s, Gonzalez was involved in gangs that would tag the gray walls of the L.A. River, but his passion for graffiti and Chicano art eventually led him out of those circles.

“The river was a safe place to paint, where you could sit and spend the day learning colors, composition,” he said of illicit tagging as a teenager, which eventually led to his public art work. “There’s a thin line between vandalism and art.”

Arturo Gonzalez spray-paints the name of his organization, East Side of the River, which focuses on gang intervention.

(Halline Overby for InsightLA)

This time, Gonzalez arrived with permission from the county and painted on a detachable fabric in case the mural needs to be removed.

“The opportunity to get into the river and paint again was like a dream,” he said. He seeks the input of local residents in his planned projects so they can participate in beautifying their neighborhoods. “We call it wall medicine for the community.”

The actor and musician Jason Schwartzman pulled a cassette tape from his pocket on stage at the L.A. Phil’s tribute to Wes Anderson. Schwartzman was just a teenager when he was cast as the obliviously ambitious Max Fischer in Anderson’s 1998 film “Rushmore,” and on Friday, he recalled the night Anderson played him the film’s entire soundtrack in his car.

“He said, ‘This is the soundtrack to the movie, this is the order it’s going to be in, and he walked me through the entire film narrating it,” Schwartzman said, still agog at the completeness of Anderson’s vision before a frame was shot.

More recently, Schwartzman said, “I was at my mom’s house tying my shoe, and I see a cassette tape on the ground titled ‘Rushmore songs’.” He then chucked the tape into the audience, a piece of film history that hopefully someone caught unscathed.

Anderson’s use of far-flung needle drops and lovely original score work is, like everything in his film universe, planned down to exacting detail. But this opener of a three-night stand — sporting an all-star roster of guest vocalists, an exceptional backing band, and a light touch from the Phil — was more in the spirit of how fans revisit Anderson’s films. As old friends that pop back into your life, affection only deepened with time, right when you need them.

Guided by the genial riffing of the night’s MC, Bill Murray (an Anderson regular from “Rushmore” onwards), the program made its case that Anderson’s savvy with soundtrack curation and delicate, evocative scores are the heart of his films, right along with his meticulous visual style and arch, melancholy tone.

The director, recently freed from a malfunctioning elevator in a pithily Andersonian incident, made a brief appearance onstage with Murray in his regal white suit. But the focus was the music itself on Friday, and the ragtag roster of artists that fully conjured it.

To start, huge credit due to the show’s musical director Justin Meldal-Johnsen and the session-killer band of Roger Joseph Manning Jr., Jason Falkner, Joey Waronker and Gus Seyffert. The sheer amount of music to arrange and assemble for this was vast and demanding, and they got to all of it from 1996’s “Bottle Rocket” to the present.

The Phil took a more modest role, performing poignant, rigorous slivers of scores from Anderson’s go-to composers Alexandre Desplat (“Canto at Gabelmeister’s Peak” from ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel” and “Mr. Fox in The Fields,” from “The Fantastic Mr. Fox”) or his frequent collaborator, Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh (the propulsive “Ping Island” from “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.”)

Pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet took a lively solo crack at “Moses Rosenthaler” off “The French Dispatch;” Rajib Karmakar and Aakash Pujara played aching sitar and flute drones from “The Darjeeling Limited,” and taiko drummer Kaoru Watanabe nearly blew out the Bowl’s speakers on “Shinto Shrine” from “Isle of Dogs.”

The surprises came from the rock acts brought in to re-imagine the most evocative needle drops from Anderson’s ouvre.

Jackson Browne, in an unbelievable career first, finally got around to performing “Fairest of the Seasons” and “These Days,” tracks he wrote as a teenager eventually covered by German art-rock chanteuse Nico, mournfully used on “The Royal Tenenbaums.”

Beck took a pass at the late Elliott Smith’s ghostly “Needle in The Hay,” used to harrowing effect in the same film, and later Love’s “Alone Again, Or”. Karen Elson beautifully covered Françoise Hardy’s “Les Temps De L’amour” from “Moonrise Kingdom” while the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Karen O simmered through the Rolling Stones’ “Play With Fire” off “Darjeeling.”

Yet the delighted gang’s-all-here element that ties Anderson’s regular cast together was embodied by an endearingly shaggy run through “Zorro Is Back” with Jenny Lewis and Rogê. Towards the end of the night, just before a closer with the Faces’ “Ooh La La,” Murray brought out a one-of-a-kind instrument for a big flourish. A nine-dollar desk bell, seemingly purchased at Staples hours before showtime, requested specifically by Anderson.

“Front of house, make sure Bill’s bell is ripping,” Beck implored the sound techs at the Bowl. Indeed, as the band, including Jim James of My Morning Jacket, Lewis and Schwartzman, performed the Bobby Fuller Four’s single “Let Her Dance,” Murray indeed whacked the hell out of that thing.

Huey Lewis shared just how much his relationship to music has changed in a recent podcast interview.

“I’m basically deaf,” the former lead singer of Huey Lewis and the News said in an episode of the “Inside of You” podcast released Tuesday. “My life has changed immeasurably. I can’t hear music. Music is not part of my life anymore, which is a hard pill to swallow.”

Lewis explained that he uses a cochlear implant to help him hear and understand speech, but he is unable to distinguish pitch because of the way the device operates.

“My cochlear implant, it breaks everything down into digital bits so I can understand,” he said. “Speech is easier to listen to than music. Music occurs in all frequencies, with overtones and harmonics and everything. It comes at you in a lot of different frequencies, so it distorts for me … It makes pitch impossible to hear.”

”The Power of Love” singer explained that because of this, he can no longer enjoy music.

“When I cook or I have people over for dinner, I always used to play them music,” he said. “I have a great collection of old big band stuff and old New Orleans jazz and I don’t play it at all anymore. … It’s weird. I can hear the beat, I know what’s going on. But I can’t enjoy it.”

“Music used to be so much fun,” he added. But “it just ends up being frustrating for me when I can’t enjoy it. I can’t feel the warmth.”

Lewis previously discussed his struggles with hearing loss with The Times. The “Hip to Be Square” singer said his Meniere’s disease diagnosis in early 2018 was “brutal.”

“When it first happened, I thought I might as well kill myself,” Lewis said in the 2020 interview, which described him as being “surprisingly upbeat” for someone whose life was so deeply affected by the diagnosis. Meniere’s disease is a disorder of the inner ear that can cause severe dizziness, ringing in the ears, hearing loss and ears feeling congested, according to the NIH. Not much is known about its causes and there is not yet a cure.

While it’s clear that Lewis misses aspects of his musician life, he also appears to appreciate having time for his other passions since his life doesn’t revolve around being on the road performing 75 to 100 shows a year.

“I fish a lot,” Lewis said in the “Inside of You” podcast. “I love to fly fish and I love Mother Nature. I get out there by myself in a stream and I’m conducting nature with my fly rod and it’s just a wonderful thing. I love to do it, and hearing not required.”

Chunky platform sandals, fitted baby tees, butterfly clips on perfectly crimped hair, brightly patterned skirts and tons of sparkles. Pure Y2K-fueled nostalgia filled the Kia Forum on Wednesday night in celebration of all things Hilary Duff.

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Duff graced the stage at the Inglewood venue as part of her Lucky Me tour, her first global headlining tour in nearly two decades. And her fans couldn’t have been more thrilled. The pop singer and actor, who released her sixth studio album “Luck… or Something” in February, performed two back-to-back sold-out shows.

Before the final L.A. show, we caught up with fans to talk about their outfits (many of which were inspired by Duff’s most famous roles such as Sam in “A Cinderella Story” and the title role in “The Lizzie McGuire Movie”), the memories her music brings up for them and why her work still resonates with them. Here’s what they had to say.

(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)

Tristan Hallam, 36, of Chicago

Tell us about your outfit.

This is my wedding dress that I had stuffed in a suitcase. She’s been in a suitcase for 10 years, and I still fit into her, which is nice. People ask me why I keep stuff and this is exactly why: You might get divorced and use it as a costume. My outfit is inspired by “A Cinderella Story.” It’s my favorite Hilary Duff movie. She plays diner girl Cinderella. She disguises herself with a mask and a L.A. Dodgers cap. I did have a tiara, but I didn’t bring it because I didn’t want to be too much. So I figured, you know what, why not buy an apron and a little black crop top, and rep L.A.

I have a tattoo of her signature. It’s a little faded because it’s like 10 years old, maybe older than that now. It was at a book signing at Barnes and Noble at like the Grove or something. I asked her if she would initial my wrist, and I got it tattooed the same night. I literally drove to the tattoo shop on Hollywood Boulevard with my arm out the window because I’m so clumsy and I didn’t want to smudge it. Then the next time I saw her, she asked me, what did your parents say? I said, “My mom asked me how long I kept the Sharpie on so long.”

How long have you been a fan?

I think I was like 8 or 9 years old when I saw “Casper Meets Wendy” for the first time. My grandma took me to like a K-Mart or something, and told me that I could get any movie that I wanted. Then I was into “Lizzie McGuire,” but as soon as Hilary started doing all her like movies and independent work, obviously the music is great. I used to live in L.A., so I went to a bunch of her book signings. I’ve done a lot of meet and greets for her concerts, and right now I’m traveling around. I’m going to 18, technically 19 shows now, and I’m gonna see her in New Zealand, Australia and some other places. I’m actually really excited because one of my friends, I met her in a Hilary Duff fan club chat room in 2005 on MSN Messenger, and we are still friends, so we are going to a ton of shows together.

Why does her work still resonate with you today?

The fact that we’re around the same age, there’s been a lot of relationship similarities. I don’t have any kids, but the struggles with family, with your dad, with your siblings. She’s got some songs that are more mature and relatable for people our age. People who have gone through ups and downs in relationships, struggles with family and figuring out who your real family is, not just by blood but who your chosen family is. I think that’s really important.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

Leilanie Martinez, 30, of South Gate

Tell us about your outfit and the inspiration behind it?

It’s my quinceañera dress. It’s supposedly very traditional to wear a white dress, like young women coming of age. For mine, I wanted to wear something that I didn’t see a lot of people wearing and I was very firm that if I didn’t find the love of my life, I was going to wear a white dress and this was my moment. My quinceañera was such a precious time. It really was a labor of love, and I think it’s one those memories I hold very near and dear. I think it’s an ode to her history, her legacy.

How long have you been a fan?

I remember I was 5 and I was running around in my neighborhood, playing with Barbies and watching “Lizzie McGuire.” I’m here today with my neighborhood and childhood friends. We used to watch it together and now we’re reliving our nostalgia and childhood.

Thinking back on when you first fell in love with her work, why does it still resonate with you today?

There’s a lot of power in her being a woman and she’s going through so many milestones that a lot of people my age are going through like having children and growing her career. Sometimes I think people “wash out” and I think it’s wonderful how she’s combating that narrative in so many ways, and that people are out here supporting her. I think there’s a lot of beauty in being able to be together as young women and relive some of these memories, but also cheer her on as she continues developing further.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

Crystal Chesher, 33, of Mar Vista and Isabella Sanchez, 33, of Culver City

Tell us about your outfit.

Sanchez: We’re channeling “The Lizzie McGuire Movie.” My actual name is Isabella. She gives more Lizzie vibes and I give more Isabella vibes. It’s funny because I’ve literally saved [looks] of Isabella and Lizzie on my Pinterest board and I’ve always wanted to dress up like this. It’s not 100% of what I wanted, but it’s giving what it’s supposed to.

How long have you been a fan?

Chesher: Since I was little. I remember watching “Lizzie McGuire” since the age of 10 at the very least so I’ve been growing up with her movies and shows. She’s definitely my idol.

Sanchez: Same. Growing up, I was bullied so she was a very big part of me being more positive about myself. I can relate to her and she really helped me. It just feels full circle to be able to see her at 33 when I wanted to see her when I was like 10.

Thinking back on when you first fell in love with her work, why does it still resonate with you today?

Chesher: She has a heavy influence in the LGBT community as well especially with the [anti-gay speech campaign]. I loved that. With her movies and her music, it’s all relatable and it resonates with you, the lyrics, the storyline and even her new album that just came out.

Sanchez: She’s just that girl. I’ve never even met her, but I feel like she’s so genuine and real and she’s always stayed consistent with who she is. She’s not like your typical celebrity. She’s just awesome. I’m literally probably going to tear up seeing her on stage.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

Lucca Petrucci, 33, of Santa Monica

Tell us about your outfit.

This is a last-minute choice. It’s very like ’70s or retro. I feel like I’ve seen her wear something like this. I’m wearing wide-legged pants, Doc Martens, platform, new haircut, facial. The inspiration for this fit was elegant pop star like confidence, grounded, a baddie. I’m a baddie who knows my worth and that’s what I wanted to embrace. I feel like she’s like doing that. She has a lyric that’s like ‘I look in the mirror, like I’m a bad b—.”

How long have you been a fan?

Since third grade. I thought she was my crush, but I think I just wanted to be her. So many of my core childhood memories are with her.

Why was tonight a non-negotiable for you?

I wanted to experience with my bestie and her sister. I feel like as a kid I didn’t allow myself to fully embrace it because it would be too girly, too much, too gay. So I feel like as a 33-year-old, I’m reclaiming that experience. I’m so excited just to hear everybody in the Forum sing “So Yesterday” and “Come Clean.” She has always been my number one pop star, to this day, and I’ve never seen her perform.

Why does her work still resonate with you today?

I feel like, especially when she was on “Lizzie McGuire,” she was figuring out who she was, but was open to being her authentic self. So I think that just like hit me when I was like in third and fourth grade, like figuring out myself. I felt so seen by her, and her music just brings back like such good feelings. Younger version of me, life wasn’t always great, but, I don’t know, she made things better.

(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)

Liv Guardado, 8, Priscilla Cruz, 38, Ava Guardado, 10 and Jezelle Velasco of Costa Mesa

Tell us about your outfit.

Cruz: We went thrifting for the first time for this. I’m plus-size, so thrifting is not easy in my size, so we did what we could. We got some overalls from Goodwill. And then we got some cowboy boots because we just wanted to be comfy.

Velasco: I probably stressed the most. I ordered so many pieces and it just kind of came together. I think the nails took the longest. One of my friends did my nails. It took some time but we got it done.

How long have you been a fan?

Velasco: Probably since I was their age. I never got to go to a concert, so this is my first time seeing her live.

Cruz: I definitely got inspired around middle school. I had a friend who was like Lizzie, and I was the best friend, Miranda. People would always say I was Miranda. I was a little older than [my girls], but I definitely have kept tabs on her life, and we love her.

Why does her work still resonate with you today?

Cruz: It definitely feels like memories and home when you think of her music from back then. And now she’s obviously stepped into a different phase of her life, and it matches where we’re at in our phase too so it’s nice.

Velasco: It just brings back the nostalgia from back when we were younger and now being parents, and being able to relate to her and her new music.

(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)

Paige Beard, 34, and Tayler Nelson, 27, of Bakersfield

Tell us about your outfits.

Beard: I was supposed to be wearing purple and she was going to wear green, and we were going to do the Isabella and Lizzie look at the end of “The Lizzie McGuire Movie.” It turned out more pink, but we ran with it.

Nelson: I was all about that performance, so I was like green. Gotta go green. We’ve been planning for a while, like two months.

How long have you been a fan?

Beard: I’ve been a fan for a long, long time, probably since “Casper Meets Wendy.” I was also a really big “Lizzie McGuire” fan, so I got into her acting as well as her music.

Nelson: Same. I was all about the Cinderella movie though, so it’s probably been 10 years for me.

Why does her work still resonate with you today?

Beard: I was telling my sister that I really liked “Lizzie McGuire” because it was one of the first times I saw somebody’s inner dialogue acted out in cartoon form. It showed me that I’m not too much. She’s a little bit older than me and I see her crying on stage and I’m like “OK, it’s OK.”

Nelson: “The Lizzie McGuire Movie” was a big turning point for me. I just loved how she expressed herself with what she wore and how she acted. I feel like I understood her in different ways. I enjoyed the dancing and the singing for sure. She felt free and I’m like, “Dang, I want that.”

(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)

Freddy Lopez, 38, and Raymond Lockwood, 36, of San Bernardino

Tell us about your outfits.

Lopez: Just a ’90s vibe. I guess a little old-school.

Lockwood: The outfits are a little last-minute because we were like we should’ve done diner girl [from “A Cinderella Story”] or one of her other movies, but we chose the little cartoon character from the show.

How long have you been a fan?

Lopez: I’ve been a fan since “Lizzie McGuire” and her movies.

Lockwood: For the past 20 something years. We grew up watching “Lizzie McGuire” and got introduced to Hilary Duff when she started singing.

Why was tonight a non-negotiable for you?

Lopez: We don’t know if she’s going to come back after this, so you’ve gotta take every opportunity. There’s other artists who cannot come back to perform right now. So when she said I’m coming back, we had to.

Lockwood: We’re healing our inner child. As a kid, we didn’t know she was having tours or we couldn’t afford to come out. Now, we’re like we don’t have to ask our mom and dad for anything.

Why does her work still resonate with you today?

Lockwood: For me, it’s being a teenager, watching the “Lizzie McGuire” show and watching the movie and then learning her songs. My favorite song is from the movie, “What Dreams Are Made Of.” It’s just us getting to live back in the past and kind of understanding it a little bit more. As a kid, our dreams are not what they realistically are today. I ended up becoming a nurse. As a kid, I didn’t sit on the couch like “Oh, I’m going to be a nurse,” but that’s what my dream ended up being.

(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)

Stephanie Rodriguez, 32, High Desert

Tell us about your outfit.

If you ask my fiancé, I was hunting for outfits and last-minute I was like, “I’m just gonna order something on Amazon.” When I saw this, I was like, “That’s it.” Total nostalgia with “13 Going on 30.” We went shoe shopping at the South Coast Plaza over the weekend. The metallic is pulling it all together and the butterfly clips.

How long have you been a fan?

Probably since I was like 8 or younger, pretty much very much obsessed. All of my holiday gifts were Hilary Duff. I had her K-Mart home products. Any magazines she was in, I got. Any outfits that I could try and replicate, I would. My first Hilary show was either Wango Tango or a Jingle Ball with KIIS-FM, so it was just a festival with a bunch of different artists but I went specifically for her.

Why does her work still resonate with you today?

I think a lot of us feel like we grew up with Hilary, so all of her music resonated with us then, and now, now that we’re older, through relationships or divorces or motherhood. It’s pretty cool to see just how we’re all kind of growing up together. The first time I think I found out about her was at the Glendale Galleria. I was recently telling my fiancé that my dad had me on his shoulders because she did a meet and greet and the entire mall was packed.

(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)

Kelsie Wagner, 35, of Temecula and Tyler Walsh, 35, of Long Beach

Tell us about your outfit.

Wagner: I’m channeling Lizzie McGuire. My favorite part is the butterfly clips.

Walsh: This is from Company D, which is a discount store for Disneyland. I was like let me get the biggest shirt and make it into a dress, but I’m wearing shorts — it’s still appropriate. I have like six authentic Disney pins here. This is about $200 on my hat. I was like I have to do something that represents. It’s a big hobby, pin trading, that I picked up in 2023. Then I wore my Lisa Franks. I figured I would channel everything from the ’90s and 2000s.

How long have you been a fan?

Wagner: Whenever the “Lizzie McGuire” show came out.

Walsh: I remember going to sleepovers with all of my friends and we would do Lizzie nights. I was on a soccer team and on Saturday nights, we’d go watch the newest episode. It was just so fun because I feel like I had a little clan that loved Lizzie. We went to her concert at the Grove together and it was back when you paid $50 to get in. We were front row and we like smelled her. It was wonderful.

Why does her work still resonate with you today?

Wagner: For me, especially her new album, she talks about marriage, relationships, motherhood, so it’s still relatable in that sense of that stage of life that we’re in.

Walsh: For me, it’s just nostalgia, because I’m not married, I have no kids, like I’m that fun aunt. And I will say, like, because she goes to Disneyland a lot, so I luckily got to meet her too. I asked her for a picture, and she’s like “Yeah, of course, honey.” It’s the most embarrassing photo of me ever though.

Wagner: I told her she should get it printed and wear it to the concert.

Walsh: I should have.

Bonnie Tyler, the husky-voiced, powerhouse vocalist who performed memorable and dramatic pop rock songs including “Total Eclipse of the Heart” in the 1980s, has died.

The Welsh singer died in a Portugal hospital on Wednesday night, according to a statement on her official website and social media accounts Thursday morning. Prior to her death, Tyler was hospitalized and underwent emergency intestinal surgery in May 2026. She was placed in an induced coma to aid her recovery which she awoke from in mid-June but remained “very unwell,” her family said at the time. She was 75.

“Bonnie’s family and team are heartbroken to announce that Bonnie unexpectedly passed away last night in hospital in Portugal as a result of the illness that she was being treated for,” the statement read.

A three-time Grammy Award nominee, Tyler first rose to fame in the late 1970s. She was known for her raspy vocals, offering listeners an edgier sound that also melded rock and pop. Tyler released a total of 18 studio albums, beginning with her debut, “The World Starts Tonight,” in 1977. But she solidified her place in music with collaborations with songwriter-producer Jim Steinman, a hitmaker who worked with Meat Loaf, Air Supply and Celine Dion.

Tyler contributed her powerful voice to Steinman’s dramatic “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” which was released in 1983 ahead of her fifth studio album, “Faster Than the Speed of Night.” Steinman initially envisioned the power ballad as a core piece in a musical adaptation of “Nosferatu,” but with Tyler, the number took on a different life.

“Total Eclipse of the Heart” climbed music charts and earned Tyler a Grammy nomination for female pop vocal performance in 1984. In addition to its commercial and critical success, Tyler’s moody hit became a mainstay in pop culture, covered in the musical TV series “Glee” and finding new life in versions by One Direction, Kelly Clarkson and several other musical acts.

“When I first heard it, I couldn’t believe it had been given to me to record. I just cried at the intense emotion of it and was so happy to have that song,” Tyler told the Guardian in 2009. “Now when I go on stage and sing ‘Total Eclipse,’ everybody sings with me. So many people say they fell in love to it and it means a hell of a lot to them. It’s such an anthem, and such a wonderful feeling, I never get tired of singing it.”

“Total Eclipse of the Heart” wasn’t the only celebrated hit from Tyler.

A year later, she performed “Holding Out for a Hero,” produced by Steinman and co-written by Dean Pitchford, for the 1984 film classic “Footloose,” starring Kevin Bacon. The energetic anthem, which features Tyler’s thunderous voice over a racing beat, also climbed the Billboard Hot 100 (it peaked at No. 34) and went on to be featured in other screen projects, including a pivotal scene in the animated comedy “Shrek 2,” with Jennifer Saunders performing the hit.

Tyler, also known for “Bitterblue,” written and produced by Dieter Bohlen, continued releasing music throughout the ’90s and early aughts. Amid the process of creating her 16th album, “Rocks and Honey,” Tyler joined the Eurovision Song Contest in 2013 to represent the United Kingdom. Though she finished 19th, she said at the time she was glad she competed “because it was an incredible experience,” likening it to the Grammy Awards. She released “Rocks and Honey” that same year, her penultimate album, “Between the Earth and the Stars,” in 2019 and her final album, “The Best Is Yet to Come” in 2021.

In 2022, she was appointed a Member of the Order of the British Empire during Queen Elizabeth’s Platinum Jubilee, recognizing Tyler’s contributions to music.

Tyler was born Gaynor Hopkins on June 8, 1951, to homemaker Elsie and coal miner Glyndwr, and was one of seven children. She was raised Protestant and cared for by her grandparents in the small Welsh town of Skewen. Her passion for music could be traced to watching British charts program “Top of the Pops” with her father, writing down lyrics to the hits of the time and singing them herself. Tyler officially caught the singing bug after placing second at the talent show hosted by a local rugby club.

After the contest, the singer continued her artistic pursuit, performing with a handful of bands including Bobby Wayne & the Dixies and, later, Imagination. She was eventually scouted and traveled to London to record a few demos but did not immediately hear back. “After two years, someone called me out of the blue and told me I’d got a record deal on the same label as Elvis,” she recalled to the Guardian.

The singer underwent several name changes over the course of the career. First she pivoted to Sherene Davis to avoid confusion with fellow Welsh vocalist Mary Hopkin. Then once more, at the behest of RCA Records, to Bonnie Tyler — a name she conjured up by mixing and matching names she read in a local newspaper.

Now Bonnie Tyler, the singer released her debut single “My! My! Honeycomb!” in 1976 and her debut album the following year. However, she would not come into her signature sound until the spring of 1977. Tyler suffered nodules on her vocal cords and underwent surgery to remove them. She feared her career would end as a result, though that would be far from the case.

Tyler, after a brief recovery period, returned to the recording studio with a huskier, edgier voice. “It turned out losing my voice was not too treacherous for me,” she told the Guardian. She released “It’s a Heartache” in 1977 with her raspy voice front and center.

“I had my first hit in America with my new husky voice on ‘It’s a Heartache,’” she said. “Maybe my husky voice was what that song, and my career, needed.”

After her tenure with RCA Records, Tyler signed with CBS Records in 1982, leading to her memorable collaborations with Steinman. At the end of the ’90s, Tyler signed with Hansa/BMG Ariola and, eventually, with EastWest Records and continued to find success in continental Europe. In addition to her albums, Tyler embarked on several tours, most recently her Between the Earth and the Stars live tour in 2019. Her most recent release was “Together” in July 2025, produced by electronic music artist David Guetta, which samples the chorus of “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

Tyler married former Olympic martial artist Robert Sullivan in 1973. The pair never had their own children — the singer suffered a miscarriage at age 39 — but experienced “no shortage of children,” she told the Guardian in 2012. Tyler had numerous godchildren, more than a dozen nieces and nephews and multiple great-nieces and great-nephews. With her fame, Tyler supported her family and purchased several properties including a home in Mumbles, Wales, and a home in Portugal.

When Tyler reflected on her decades-long career for the BBC in 2019, she said she had long exceeded her own expectations.

“I didn’t expect ever to be making records,” she said at the time. “I was just happy being in a band, singing.”

Storied norteño group Los Tigres del Norte announced Tuesday that they are teaming up with departing L.A. Philharmonic conductor Gustavo Dudamel for a special performance Aug. 21 at the Hollywood Bowl.

The show is part of a series titled “Celebrating Gustavo at the Bowl,” which looks to send off Dudamel in style as he transitions into his new role as the music and artistic director of the New York Philharmonic. The “Jaula de Oro” artist’s appearance is part of “Gustavo’s Fiesta,” which will also feature performances by other prominent Latino artists.

The norteño act has sold 37 million albums and recorded 500 songs over a career that’s spanned five decades. They have seven Grammy Awards, eight Latin Grammys and have had 66 songs land on Billboard’s Hot Latin Songs chart, the most of any Latin music act ever.

In 2018, Los Tigres del Norte became the first norteño act to headline at the Hollywood Bowl.

Recently, the “La Puerta Negra” hitmakers were immortalized in U.S. pop culture history when its members appeared in animated form in a December 2025 episode of “The Simpsons” and performed an original corrido about the escapades of Homer Simpson and Pedro Chespirito (also known as the Bumblebee Man).

Also featured on the Aug. 21 lineup are Grammy-winning singer Lila Downs, the all-female Mariachi Reyna de Los Ángeles, the explosive cumbia group La Sonora Dinamita and the legendary Mexican bolero trio Los Panchos.

The show will serve as Dudamel’s third-to-last performance as the music and artistic director of L.A. Philharmonic. On Aug. 22, he will be in concert with Foo Fighters. His farewell weekend will conclude Aug. 23 and will serve as a benefit for his homeland of Venezuela, which suffered catastrophic losses from twin earthquakes in late June.

Donations will benefit Dudamel’s Earthquake Recovery to Support Venezuelan Communities fund, in partnership with the United Nations Development Programme and the Development Bank of Latin America and the Caribbean fund.

Gustavo Dudamel’s farewell to Los Angeles will also function as a benefit for his homeland of Venezuela, which suffered catastrophic losses from twin earthquakes in late June.

Dudamel and the Los Angeles Philharmonic announced Monday that the beloved composer’s final Hollywood Bowl performance as the orchestra’s music and artistic director, originally programmed as “Celebrating Gustavo at the Bowl: A Musical Legacy,” will instead be called “A Concert for Venezuela.” Still scheduled for Aug. 23, the show will raise funds for communities affected by the earthquakes.

“Venezuela will always be my home, and every moment, my thoughts are with the families whose lives have been forever changed by this tragedy,” Dudamel said in a statement. “The suffering is immense, but so is the strength and resilience of our people. This concert at the Hollywood Bowl is an invitation to stand together and transform our compassion into action.”

A full program and special guests will be announced later. Dudamel and the musicians will contribute their time and services free of charge.

Donations will benefit Dudamel’s Earthquake Recovery to Support Venezuelan Communities fund, in partnership with the United Nations Development Programme and the Development Bank of Latin America and the Caribbean fund. The L.A. Phil will contribute $50,000 to the fund, announced President and Chief Executive Kim Noltemy.

“In moments of profound need, our responsibility as an institution extends beyond the stage,” she said. “We are grateful for the opportunity to provide direct financial support to relief efforts for communities in Venezuela with a $50,000 charitable donation and to stand alongside Gustavo in bringing this concert to life at the Bowl.”

Twin earthquakes on June 24 devastated Venezuela, with more than 3,300 deaths and more than 30,000 people reported missing. As international rescue teams depart and locals are left to search through rubble, Venezuelans abroad, including L.A. restaurants, have looked for ways to send support.

Dudamel, who was born and raised in Barquisimeto, Venezuela, wrote in a 2015 op-ed for The Times that he is a “product” of El Sistema, the country’s government-funded youth music program. He has been the music director of the Simón Bolívar Symphony Orchestra since 1999.

The bass legend and superproducer Don Was didn’t expect to be covering Curtis Mayfield’s Civil Rights-era anthem “This Is My Country” on the road in 2026. But lately, the chaos in the United States made the song seem regrettably apropos.

“It wasn’t supposed to still feel potent. It was supposed to be something that served a moment,” said Was, who included the defiant single on his 2025 album “Groove In the Face of Adversity.”

“It’s shocking to be here in 2026 and, whatever distance we traveled from 1966 until now, to see it all get reset,” Was said. “That song’s a more powerful statement now than it was then. It was inconceivable that it would still be relevant — this is supposed to be the utopian age of Aquarius. This is not the way it was supposed to turn out.”

Was remembers the tumult, violence and hope that came out of that era in his hometown of Detroit. The city’s music, famed for rough-hewn virtuosity from blues to soul to techno, is the spring that waters “Adversity.” It is, remarkably, the 73-year-old’s first solo album after a career spanning the pioneering electro-pop band Was (Not Was) and deep producer relationships with the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan and Bonnie Raitt.

He also spent years in Bob Weir & Wolf Bros with the late Grateful Dead founder, and will play from the Dead’s landmark “Blues for Allah” on his tour that stops at Lodge Room on July 7.

With a backing band of studio killers dubbed the Pan-Detroit Ensemble, “Adversity” has an expansive modern atmosphere, yet a lived-in, filament-bulb quality in the playing that carries through funk, jazz, rock and R&B. It’s largely a covers record, but you wouldn’t know it from the depth of the revisions — veering from the Yusef Lateef standard “Nubian Lady” to Hank Williams’ “I Ain’t Got Nothin’ But Time,” closing with funk group Cameo’s “Insane.”

“I’ve been carrying it around in my head for 30 years,” Was said. “This first album to me is really a handshake, a ‘nice to meet you,’ this jambalaya of Detroit sounds.” While much of the source material comes from elsewhere, the cumulative mood is extremely personal to an artist who has spent his life helping the greats find true expression.

“I’ve come to admire artists who are willing to go in deep inside their most personal thoughts for the sake of helping the listener understand their own lives,” he said. “To help them deal with the trauma of being human — especially in these times, man.”

Tops on that list is the late Grateful Dead founder Bob Weir — who died in January at 78 — as a model for a band staying fearless and uncompromising. Was, still heartbroken about the loss of his friend and bandmate, recalled their first time on tour.

“When Bobby called asking me to play bass with the Wolf Bros, I thought at the very least, this is going to be a master class in losing self-consciousness and forgetting about fear,” Was said. “If the band stumbled, the audience wouldn’t walk out. They appreciated the fact that you were trying to do something new for them. Then there’d be a couple moments every night with an incredible exchange between the musicians and you can feel the audience becoming a member of the band.”

Playing the Dead’s “Blues for Allah” on this tour — an LP rooted in Middle Eastern scales, pirouetting time signatures and improvisational telepathy — put him in communion with his old friend.

“I used to think that songs like ‘King Solomon’s Marbles’ were just jams and conversations on the spot. But when we really got into it, there’s a form underneath and you can take tremendous liberty with that form,” Was said.

Was’ production career was built on a similar principle.

His early band Was (Not Was) remains a visionary electro-pop act with subtle, salient politics. “Out Come the Freaks” is a favorite on Pride month dance floors — “If you just wanted to do poppers and dance all night, it worked, and if you wanted to think about the government careening out of control, it worked too,” Was said of the band’s club material.

The late Ozzy Osbourne sang on the band’s international hit “Shake Your Head,” alongside a winking, very game Kim Basinger. The actor was a replacement after Madonna backed out, leaving the proto-rave tune one of the era’s most unlikely collaborations.

He recalled Ozzy fondly. “In 1975, this folk group I was in booked us to open for Black Sabbath at the Toledo Sports Arena, playing for a bunch of 14-year-old white boys on amphetamines,” Was said. “They weren’t having it. I’ve heard the tape of that show, and the drummer was bleeding from being hit by so many bottles that we had to stop playing. That was my first exposure to Ozzy, so I was a little afraid to do the session, but he was up for an adventure.”

Don Was and the Pan-Detroit Ensemble

(Gemma Corfield)

A Stones confidant and producer from 1994’s “Voodoo Lounge” up until 2023’s “Hackney Diamonds” (where Andrew Watt took the helm), Was had nothing but praise for the band, and still admits to a twinge of fandom in their presence.

“There’s never been a day in the studio with the Rolling Stones where I didn’t look around the room and go, ‘Oh my God,’” he said. “I’ve known Mick for over 30 years, but the last time they played L.A. at SoFi Stadium, Mick came walking down that stage and I was like, ‘Wow, there he is, it’s 1965 again.’”

With Dylan, he recalled the mercurial genius’ impish side. “I was producing Dylan, and George Harrison came in to play guitar. Bob was messing with him, Bob pushed the engineer aside and he ran the tape machine. George had never heard the song before, didn’t know what key it was in, and Bob just starts the tape. George played a respectable solo, but clearly it was rough. Bob, just to be funny, stopped the machine and said ‘That’s it, perfect.’ George turns to me and said, ‘What do you think, Don?’ And Bob goes, “Yeah, what do you think, Don?’ I’m looking at these two guys and time slowed down. I remembered trying to sell my car to get a ticket to go to New York to see the Concert for Bangladesh. Now they’re asking me what I think. I was paralyzed.”

“A voice appeared in my head,” he said, “Telling me, ‘He’s not paying you to be a fan.‘ So I said to George, ‘It was good, man. Let’s see if we can beat it.’ You can’t allow the iconography to dictate the outcome in the studio. You have to put that aside.”

As president of Blue Note Records, the estimable jazz label he’s led for more than a decade, Was relentlessly looks forward. He’s released restless modern records by Domi & JD Beck, Fathers, Makaya McCraven and Julian Lage (the hotshot jazz guitarist now playing with Dylan). He’s refreshingly optimistic about challenging music in streaming’s ruthless economy.

“Don’t make music for the delivery system,” Was said. “I don’t think about streaming, I think about touching people. If you do that, nothing has changed fundamentally in the music business. If your purpose is to get under people’s skin and make them feel something, that’s the same job it was for Mozart. How people listen can keep changing, but I don’t think the palette of human emotion changes, and that’s who you’re addressing.”

Was came from a working-class industrial city, making music reflective of Detroit’s technological upheaval and economic neglect. “Adversity” is a beacon to keep playing in spite of everything.

“I think that the salvation of musicians is that no matter what happens, what technological advancements come along, there’s still nothing like the experience of being in the same room as people who are playing together,” Was said. “It’s always been tough, man. It’s harder these days to buy a Ferrari as a musician, but I don’t know that that’s necessary. I have total confidence that the opportunity is there for anybody who is willing to give the audience a meaningful experience.”

Loop’s website shows images of people wearing their devices in casual, fun settings, and the brand has also collaborated with festivals such as Coachella and Tomorrowland.

Alpine CEO Arthur van Keeken says their ear-plugs have been popular with “younger, urban people” – exactly the audience for these types of events.

He believes they are more conscious of looking after their hearing, and wants a future where music fans view ear protection in the same way skiers see helmets.

The British Association of Audiologists – healthcare experts who specialise in diagnosing and treating ear problems – say hearing loss is one of the most common disabilities.

According to the Royal National Institute for Deaf People (RNID), it affects about one in three UK adults.

The charity’s audiology manager Franki Oliver says that, under a microscope, the sound-sensing cells in our ears and the tiny hairs growing out of them resemble a patch of grass at a festival.

“The first day, the grass looks absolutely beautiful,” she says. “Nice and green.”

“After the first couple of days, it’s OK. But at the end of the weekend it’s looking pretty dead and it’s probably not coming back.

“The same thing is happening with our ears when we expose them to loud noises”.

Oliver says it’s a good thing that ear-plugs are increasingly seen as an “accessory to a night out, rather than something you have to use”.

But, like our ears, they are not all created equal.

“I’ve talked about rain on this show more than I have in my entire life,” Kittrell says.

It was a constant consideration, both on set and in the writers room. Weather became a way to distinguish Elle from those around her in Seattle. The locals never carry umbrellas; Elle shows up with a pink one.

“We had a writer from Seattle who always said the city gets a bad rap because of the rain,” Kittrell says. “But the rain is what makes it beautiful — it makes Seattle green.”

Elle entering the halls of Rainier West High School with her pink umbrella.

(Kimberley French / Prime Video)

That philosophy stayed with the writers, later showing up in a line Miles (Jacob Moskovitz), Elle’s crush, says to her, and ultimately leading them to Garbage’s “Only Happy When It Rains” as the show’s theme. “We were like, of course,” says Kittrell. “This is what we’ve been talking about the entire time.”

The song was originally meant to end the pilot. “Then we decided we should just be hearing it in every single episode,” says Neustadter. (The pilot instead uses Radiohead’s “Creep,” which also bookends the series.) The main title sequence, an animated “saga sell” from the studio Shine, tells the story of Elle’s move from Bel-Air to Seattle.

“We’re constantly reminding the audience of the contrast between Elle’s essence and the world she’s now in,” Neustadter adds. “There’s an optimism to ‘Only Happy When It Rains’ that feels very Elle Woods. And the irony of it is so delightful.”

Herb Alpert walks up a long driveway at his rambling Malibu estate, wincing slightly after having woken up around 3 a.m. with a cramp in his left calf.

“It’s still kind of seizing,” the trumpeter says as he leads me past a garden lush with moist-looking tropical plants.

This, Alpert accepts, is the reality of life at 91. Yet the only reason he’s out here racking up steps by the hundreds on a recent morning is because he was tooling around in his sculpture studio before I arrived. And the only reason the sculpture studio is so far from his music studio — there’s also a studio devoted to his painting — is because of his huge success over the last 60 or so years.

“So I can’t really complain,” he says.

A Los Angeles native who got his start writing songs like Sam Cooke’s “Wonderful World,” Alpert has lived here in Malibu since 1972, a decade after he released “The Lonely Bull,” his debut album with the Tijuana Brass. The LP’s title track, inspired by a bullfight Alpert caught in Mexico, went to No. 6 on Billboard’s Hot 100; more than a dozen finger-snapping Top 40 hits followed, including “A Taste of Honey,” “Spanish Flea” (also heard as a theme song on TV’s “The Dating Game”) and “This Guy’s in Love With You,” which took a rare Alpert vocal turn all the way to No. 1.

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What’s more, these inescapable tunes came out on Alpert’s own label, A&M Records, which he “formed on a handshake,” as he puts it, in 1962 with his business partner Jerry Moss. The label quickly became one of the biggest independent record companies in music, with acts such as Carole King, the Carpenters, the Police, Peter Frampton and Janet Jackson, as well as a beloved recording studio complex on La Brea Avenue. (Moss, who with Alpert sold A&M in 1989 for a reported $500 million, died in 2023.)

After years working on his own and with his wife, the singer Lani Hall, Alpert revived the Tijuana Brass name in 2024 and launched a tour that will stop Sunday night at the Hollywood Bowl. We sat down in his gear-stuffed music studio to talk about it and much more.

I’m sure you heard that John Mayer and McG bought the former A&M Studios last year. I wondered what your emotional investment is in the place at this point.
I don’t have an emotional investment. Once I left the lot, I was out of there — I didn’t look back. I wanted to paint, I wanted to sculpt, I wanted to make music. I wasn’t thinking about the business.

What’s an A&M success story you took particular pride in?
Cat Stevens. I heard this kid — he was a kid at the time — at the Troubadour, just him and a guitar, and I got goosebumps. It was so beautiful and so honest.

What was Karen Carpenter like?
She was a doll. She didn’t know how great she was — didn’t think she was a great singer. One hell of a drummer too. Go onto YouTube and search Karen Carpenter’s solo on drums — it’ll knock your socks off. But she was innocent. She was lucky to have [her brother] Richard because Richard knew what to do with her in a very gentle way.

Even at the Carpenters’ smoothest, I hear deep sadness in Karen’s singing.
I think that’s a standard ingredient to great artists. Listen closely to Miles Davis and you’ll hear the same thing.

Karen struggled with her mental health, which her fame didn’t help. Did you ever feel responsible for what she went through?
I’ve gone over that question so many times in my head: If I hadn’t picked them out and signed them, would the same result have happened?

Where have you landed?
I don’t have an answer.

In a recent documentary about you, you’re talking about “Wonderful World” and you say that nobody knows what a hit record sounds like. That’s your feeling now based on years of experience. But did you think you knew when you were young?
I didn’t know then either. “Wonderful World” was a demo that Keen Records put on a shelf. When Sam started selling records on RCA Victor, they pulled it out as a lark, and it ended up one of the biggest-selling singles Sam ever had. I’ve told this story before, but at A&M a guy played a record for me — I said, “Man, this record stinks.” Well, I was turning down “Louie Louie.”

Why didn’t you understand “Louie Louie”?
It was out of tune. It was too long. I didn’t know what the hell they were saying.

That’s why it’s great.
Probably so. But did they have another hit record? Sam used to say, “Close your eyes when you listen to a new artist — don’t get swayed by whether they’re beautiful or they’re handsome or they can dance their ass off.”

OK, but you were like a heartthrob in the ’60s.
What am I now — chopped liver?

I don’t think you can say your success had nothing to do with your looks.
I don’t think it did. You know that sadness you were talking about? It’s in my horn.

I agree. But it didn’t hurt that you looked great.
It didn’t hurt once I had a hit record. It wouldn’t have given me a hit record.

Jerry Moss, left, and Herb Alpert in 1974.

(Michael Putland / Getty Images)

Let’s talk about your song “Rise.”
Got lucky with that.

In what way?
My nephew Randy, who’s one of my managers, he wanted me to take some of the Tijuana Brass records and do a little disco number with them. So we go into the studio with a bunch of great musicians, start playing “Taste of Honey” at 120 beats per minute. I got nauseous — I said, “Man, I ain’t doing this.”

Nauseous?
The record was big, and I didn’t want to tamper with it. But Randy had written this song called “Rise” with a friend of his. He wanted me to play that at 120 beats per minute too. I said, “Lookit, man — let’s slow this thing down and let people dance closer together.” We recorded it live in the studio. Julius Wechter was playing marimba — dear friend of mine. I said, “What do you think of this thing? Pretty cool, isn’t it?” He turns around and says, “I hate it. That beat — the four-on-the-floor is killing me.” I expected a different answer from him. But it didn’t matter.

What’d you make of the Notorious B.I.G.’s sampling “Rise” for his “Hypnotize”?
How could you not like that record? These guys that take your bass line and make a record by pressing a button — I think that’s cheating a bit. But there’s 70 zillion streams on that song. Can’t deny it.

“Rise” was also sampled by the rapper Nas for his song “Power, Paper & P—.”
I don’t know how to comment on that one.

A lot of musicians from your generation have been selling their catalogs lately. Have you considered it?
There’s no reason to — I don’t need the money.

I wrote about Frankie Valli a few years ago, and he and Bob Gaudio seemed eager to have this company Primary Wave out there finding ways to —
Monetize the catalog. I get it. But they don’t have to do that with us. I don’t know if you know what’s happening, but I’m in the heyday of my career right now.

Right now?
It wasn’t my idea to get the Tijuana Brass back together again. My nephew, he’s a social media guy, and he went around the world to see what songs of mine were selling the most. Turned out there were about 18 songs. I started listening to the 18, and at the end, I felt happy, I felt joyous, I felt a smile was on my face. I thought, Man, let’s try this — this might be interesting. We started doing it, and we’ve been sold out 50 concerts in a row.

It strikes me that without the Tijuana Brass, you weren’t playing the Hollywood Bowl.
Hell no, I wasn’t.

What’s that say to you?
That the music is touching people. The times we’re living in, there’s a lot of doubt with what’s going on, and I think people are getting some positive energy from it.

You’re a lifelong Angeleno. Lots of well-to-do folks say that L.A. has gone to hell in a handbasket. What’s your take?
I think it’s pretty much the same all over the country.

Which is?
Gone to hell in a handbasket. People are confused about where they’re going, whether they’re gonna be able to have enough food on the table, whether they can afford gasoline. I’m not saying it’s all bad — it’s just hard to make sense of a lot of it for a lot of people, including the guy you’re talking to.

Your music has pulled from any number of cultures. Do you think it speaks of your Jewish identity?
Most definitely. My father was born in a shtetl outside Kyiv — didn’t speak Russian, spoke Yiddish. He brought his mandolin with him when he was 16 years old on a boat by himself and landed at Ellis Island. He used to play songs for me on the mandolin. When his nostrils flared, I knew he was into it. That kind of got me.

Jewish meets Mexican feels very L.A. to me.
I think we’re all a product of our surroundings. In high school I used to go see Gerry Mulligan and Chet Baker, and I was touched by them. Of course, they were loaded.

What kind of guy was Chet Baker?
A troubled guy who was a brilliant musician. I gave him one of my horns, and he pawned it the next day. He was sweet but he didn’t have a hold on his emotions.

Not great for living, obviously. But good for music?
Well, you’re opening up a whole can of worms. I mean, why did so many great jazz musicians get hooked on drugs? Maybe guys that were hung up on being a human being, they found that getting stoned helped them through the struggle. I recorded Stan Getz the first time he ever recorded without drugs. It was at A&M — he was wearing this red silk shirt that had sweat stains under both arms. He had like 75 reeds on the ground because he couldn’t pick out the right one. He finally found the right reed, got over the anxiety and started playing — same Stan Getz you heard throughout his career. These guys were under the assumption that being stoned would change what they played. I don’t think that holds any water.

Was there a time you thought it might be true?
I did experiment with grass once. Turned on a recorder, took a puff, started playing some jazz. Took another puff, started playing some more jazz. I listened to that recording the next morning — it was terrible.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

Can we do a little Herb Alpert trivia to finish?
Do I have a choice?

“A Taste of Honey” won record of the year at the Grammys in 1966.
You’re gonna ask why.

You beat the Beatles’ “Yesterday.”
No kidding?

The year after “Taste of Honey,” you were nominated for record of the year again with “What Now My Love.” That one you lost. Remember what you lost to?
Not “Louie, Louie.”

“Strangers in the Night.”
That’s a real pop song. Love the guy, but not my favorite by him.

What’s your favorite Sinatra song?
“Only the Lonely.”

“This Guy’s in Love With You” — great vocal performance. Why didn’t you do more?
I’m not a singer.

Sure you are.
I know it’s a great performance. But it was one take, man — I did that in one take.

This is what I’m saying.
Look, I had an interesting guy in the sound booth who did the arrangements named Burt Bacharach.

I read that you talked with Burt a few times a week until he died.
I did, and not about music. We talked about football, basketball, politics, you name it.

What’s your basketball team?
Lakers.

Hard to be a Lakers fan these days.
Easy to be a critic.

In an era hallmarked by what experts call a “sex recession,” Six Sex is a symbol of liberation.

The Argentine baddie fashions herself as a baby-voiced, bikini-clad fembot, beamed in from the clubs of Buenos Aires — and has become known for cheeky, instructive celebrations of desire. Her songs are designed to galvanize like-minded club rats into Dionysian revelry, or, in the case of the song “How to Make Your Ass Bigger,” squats.

To a certain subset of the Latine underground, she represents a pure-hearted hypersexuality. Yet, for the artist behind the persona, Francisca Agustina Cuello, this wasn’t always the intention.

“I don’t know if it was because I still had to keep my innocence or what, but I didn’t envision the project that way,” she said, calling from a hotel room in Barcelona. “That response sort of came about from the people, towards me. So, I said OK, I’m making it my own.”

In doing so, Cuello has churned out six thumping EPs as Six Sex, a campy character that she describes as a “fable” — a mix of “fantasía y hedonismo.”

That dynamic is taken to extremes on her debut album, “Ultra”, released June 6. It’s a dark and propulsive journey through decades of electronic dance music, best described by its own opening words portending “ultra terrorific fantasy.” (The phrase conjures up images of grandeur, but really, it evokes that “Blades of Glory” quote: “no one knows what it means, but it’s provocative.”)

“I feel like nothing I say is all that serious,” she said about her lyrics. “It’s a thing about my personality to be silly and goof around.”

“Ultra” centers Cuello’s winking, suggestive sense of humor. “Not Your Mom” features a conversation with a garbled, omnipotent voice akin to the parents in Charlie Brown; “FUchi!” features schoolyard taunts about “low dickie energy;” the album ends with “No More Porn,” a playful yet powerful subversion of sexual expectations.

“At the same time, for me, that acts as a filter,” she added with a laugh. “Weeding out the people who get scandalized by it, and identifying the people who get it and say: ‘Yas, yo también quiero tener cuatro novios.’”

Earlier this year, Cuello took the stage at Don Quixote, performing in front of a sold-out crowd for her Los Angeles debut. The smell of sweat permeated the air as she ripped through several of her hits — including collaborations with Reysha Rami and German producer MCR-T. Every single one of her signature ponytail flips sent the room into hysterics. The audience screamed every word at the top of their lungs; it was the loudest, most raucous show I’d been to in years.

Cuello took a breather in the middle of her world tour to chat with De Los over Zoom about all things Six Sex: her new record, her writing style and how it feels to connect with fans spun into febrile intensity.

This interview has been condensed for clarity and was translated from Spanish to English.

“[I’m] weeding out the people who get scandalized,” says Six Sex of her provocative music.

(Catalina Jacobo)

I was really taken by the “Ultra” album cover. You’re wearing a white bikini and in this “come to Jesus” pose. What was the goal?
[laughs] It was hard, because I wanted the cover to represent what the entire journey of the album meant to me. I was looking for something strong and heavy in visual terms, because with “Ultra”, this is the first time I’ve finished a long, heavy project and I see the start of something. It’s like something new was unlocked. I found a new way to convey feelings, and a new way to create as well. It’s not like I just finished, and it is what it is. Rather, it is the beginning of something bigger.

Is there an element of separation at all between the artistry and you as a person?
I think they’re pretty close. It’s as if Six Sex was sort of a fable, or like a hentai or comic [version of] my life. It’s also happened that things I wrote as a joke later became reality. But generally, I draw inspiration from things that actually happened to me.

Is it weird to put those intimate experiences on an album?
No, not for me. Because I’m not speaking so seriously, I don’t feel exposed. Even though my persona and my character are very close to one another, I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I’m not trying to make you believe in something. The songs stop being about me as soon as someone else listens to them. There are certain things we can all see ourselves represented in, and I think my music aims for that, too.

I want to ask about your performance style. I saw you live in Los Angeles and was really taken by the energy exchange between yourself and the crowd. How do you approach live performance?
Nowadays, I’m in a balance between performance and being a human being that connects with people and can pause to look in the eyes of the audience to register how they feel. I like being in a showgirl role, and at the same time, knowing when to step out of it.

Sometimes I go up there after having a crappy day, thinking that I’m gonna screw it up. And when I get up there and connect with the people, everything flows in a perfect way.

Does the music transform when it’s performed live, versus on a record? A lot of your music seems designed to be played in the club.
I think it’s very personal. For me, I’m a bit autistic; sometimes when I’m at a show, I get different sensations. It really depends on the person. I like seeing people’s reactions live when I start playing these songs for the first time. People were super hyped. They were enjoying them and jumping around a lot. It feels really fresh.

You reference ‘90s club classics all over “Ultra,” including by U.K. band the Prodigy on “Bitch Up.” How did these sounds come into your life?
These sounds evoke a special kind of nostalgia for me. Even though I hadn’t been listening to them lately, they sounded like something I wanted to bring back to the table — songs my uncle used to listen to when I was really young. Like a CD [of] pirated songs that somehow ended up at my house, and at the time I was like, “Wow, what is this music?”

There’s an element of Six Sex that gives “fembot,” like a female, sexy robot. I’m curious if you feel that playing out in your work.
[laughs] I didn’t know about the fembot thing. I don’t use Twitter. I [keep] a bubble… against some things that I don’t know. But I’ve always liked the idea that people have that perception of me, to some extent.

How do you feel about the rise of AI as a musician, especially considering your persona adopts that perception?
I mean… I don’t have a formed opinion on the matter. I do think that, I don’t know, it’s all very relative. For one thing, I obviously feel like it strips away the human value, but at the same time, it’s also a tool for humans. So it’s kind of contradictory. I feel weird about it…. I don’t know.

Zooming out, I’ve noticed Argentina has been having a musical moment over the last few years between yourself, Ca7riel y Paco Amoroso, Juana Rozas… How do you feel Argentina being represented or even challenged in your music?
I feel that culturally, Argentina is a very rich country. However, I do feel like, over generations, a paradigm was broken, and new sounds have been created that don’t necessarily abandon the roots of our music, but were created out of counterculture.

That same kind of counterculture is what makes Argentina be in such turmoil. It’s also the context of our country. Economic, political, social. The key Argentinian figures we refer to nowadays are constantly changing. And that allows you to listen to a variety of genres from Argentina, from people doing different things, and at the same time raising the flag and saying: “Yo soy argentino.” And we love that.

A century and a half ago, Richard Wagner was running out of cash as he was preparing to stage his four momentous nights of opera known as the “Ring Cycle” when he got a message from the Women’s Centennial Executive Committee in Philadelphia. It offered him a princely $5,000 (around $150,000 today) to write a triumphant 12-minute orchestral score to open the Centennial Exposition in Fairmont Park celebrating the 100^th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.

On May 10, 1876, Theodore Thomas, perhaps America’s most famous conductor at the time (he would go on to head the New York Philharmonic and help found the Chicago Symphony), led the premiere of Wagner’s “Grosse Festmarsch” with a 150-member orchestra, its brass and percussion so impressive that the addition of cannon fire Wagner suggested was not needed. The crowd was said to number well over 100,000. President Ulysses S. Grant attended and invited Emperor Dom Pedro II of Brazil to join him along with members of Congress and Supreme Court justices for what remains a unique Declaration of Independence spectacle and debacle.

The “Centennial March,” as it came to be known, turned out to be dreck. Even Wagner, who carelessly tossed it off in a couple of weeks, said the best thing about the score was the fee, which he had demanded to be paid in gold. But what sounds like something AI might come up with if asked to write a pompous march in the style of Wagner began the American obsession with celebrating the Declaration of Independence, the words and deeds of our presidents, our very democracy with the assist of the symphony orchestra and opera.

One hundred years later, the country was awash with federal, state, city and philanthropic funding for a music-happy bicentennial of exceptional ambition. “With millions available in hand and more money to come,” Time Magazine wrote in 1975, “the Bicentennial is the biggest bonanza for the American composer since Hollywood discovered the musical.”

And so it was. The centerpiece was the National Endowment for the Arts Bicentennial Orchestra Commissioning Project. That funded America’s six top orchestras to each commission a major work that all six would play. In addition, the NEA offered further support to 34 American orchestras for dozens more new scores.

Everyone got into the act. The New York State Council of the Arts alone sponsored 68 commissions. Orchestras everywhere came up with striking projects. The Pittsburgh Symphony, for instance, premiered L.A. composer John LaMontaine’s opera/oratorio “Be Glad Then America” that featured the folk singer Odetta as the Muse of Liberty and enlisted ROTC students to reenact the Battle of Lexington overhead the orchestra.

The National Symphony commissioned symphonies from Roy Harris and William Schuman as well as Alan Hovhaness’ “Ode to Freedom,” a lovely short violin concerto written for Yehudi Menuhin. The list goes on.

We are obviously not seeing or hearing much like that in a semiquincentennial year when our government’s green gets the most attention for promoting algae. Even so, the NEA does indeed have an “America250” project (though it does little to publicize it, let alone fund it on the scale of 50 years ago) that is promoting more than 50 artworks. In music, they range from the Montgomery Symphony’s premiere in February of Nkeiru Okoye’s oratorio “A Time for Jubilee,” commemorating the 60^th anniversary of the 1965 Selma-to-Montgomery civil rights marches, to a New West Symphony premiere last weekend of Michael Christie’s “A Ronald Reagan Portrait” at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library and Museum.

The major East Coast orchestras are paying some attention. The New York Philharmonic premiered David Lang’s luminous “the wealth of nations.” The National Symphony got the most attention in its attempt to commission Philip Glass’ “Lincoln” Symphony, which the composer pulled in opposition to an un-Lincoln-like presidential takeover of the Kennedy Center. Glass then gave the rights to the Boston Symphony for a July 5 first performance.

The National Symphony did pull off the premiere of Peter Boyer’s “American Mosaic,” and it was to the Altadena composer that Philadelphia, this time around, entrusted its Declaration of Independence commemoration. Boyer’s multimedia oratorio, “A Hundred Years On,” was given its premiere by the Philadelphia Orchestra last month at the orchestra’s outdoor summer home, the Mann Center.

Upcoming will be a few repeat performances. Next month, “the wealth of nations” lands at the Aspen Festival, as does the “Lincoln” Symphony at the Cabrillo festival (with an L.A. Phil performance next season). “American Mosaic,” of which the Pacific Symphony was a co-commissioner, had its West Coast premiere in Costa Mesa last month and was scheduled to be performed at the Hollywood Bowl by the National Symphony in August, but that has now been replaced by Dvorak’s commonplace “New World Symphony.”

None of this comes close to comparing with the attempted civic zest of 1976. The NEA made it a matter of admirable policy that commissioned new works get multiple performances. Yet despite several of these being substantial works by some of our most noted and venturesome composers, few bicentennial commissions have survived. Even odder is that many of the composers did not necessarily feel compelled to explore nationalist themes. For them, American liberty implied freedom to simply write the kind of music they cared about.

The six works for the six orchestras were David del Tredici’s irresistibly over-the-top “Final Alice” (Chicago Symphony), Elliott Carter’s arrestingly impenetrable-on-first-hearing “Symphony for Three Orchestras” (New York Philharmonic), John Cage’s irrepressibly come-what-may “Renga” (Boston Symphony), Morton Subotnick’s brilliant electronic-landscaped “Before the Butterfly” (Los Angeles Philharmonic), Leslie Bassett’s introspective “Echoes From an Invisible World” and Jacob Druckman’s abstract-modernist “Chiaroscuro” (Cleveland Orchestra).

No orchestra has brought back its commission over the last half century, and only Chicago and New York recorded their commissions. No recording at all exists of L.A.’s, although Subotnick’s inventive uses of electronic music with a standard symphony orchestra went on to have considerable influence. None of these works, it appears, are likely to be heard anywhere in America this year, with one sort-of exception.

An explanation for that may be that, while 1976 was a fraught time for America — the country was recovering from the Vietnam War, we had a president and vice president who were not elected, there was runaway inflation, etc. — the music of the time represented optimism. Many works around the country explored new electronic music technology. It was the year Glass wrote “Einstein on the Beach” and Steve Reich created “Music for 18 Musicians” — the composers’ first masterpieces — demonstrating that Minimalism mattered.

That sense of liberation is clearly behind Del Tredici’s “Final Alice,” an hourlong romp around the ending of “Alice in Wonderland” for superhuman soprano and orchestra. It is so obsessively and addictively wild that its tamest moments sound like Richard Strauss on LSD. It does have a cult following although performances are few and far between.

Cage’s score is an abstract work based on the Japanese form of collective poetry known as renga, in which each poet attempts to write a line that is as distant as possible in meaning from the preceding line. Cage translates that to an independence of instrumental parts. While “Renga” can be performed alone Cage further suggests it be played along with an actual bicentennial work he wrote separately, “Apartment House 1776.” That is what Boston and the other orchestras did.

Indeed, “Apartment House” got the lion’s share of bicentennial attention and ridicule. When Zubin Mehta conducted it at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, the L.A. Philharmonic did not take it seriously and many walked out on it.

The work features four vocal soloists who represent Native American, Sephardic, African American and Protestant religious traditions, along with instrumental music based on early American hymn tunes. Everything is cut up and put together through chance operations into what Cage called a Musicircus. Under the circumstances “Renga” was hardly noticed, although two decades later, “Renga” came into its own when Michael Tilson Thomas famously conducted it with the San Francisco Symphony and the surviving members of the Grateful Dead.

Still the idea that “Apartment House” need not stand alone, that our traditions and those of long-ago Japan belong together, represented for Cage a future for America. We need not act like a superpower, he noted, but merely be one nation, no more and no less, among many.

We are obviously not that nation. A half-century later, “Apartment House” tends to exist mainly in its own right. An excellent London new music ensemble calls itself Apartment House. Detroit Opera recently staged it with a 2026 need to give the singers the opportunity to select their own music rather than reflect on our heritage. If American music in 1976 represented a collective, inquisitive, inventive American spirit of discovery, the semiquincentennial in the age of social media has become more about the individual identity.

As a sign of how we think about ourselves, the Los Angeles Philharmonic begins its Hollywood Bowl season five days after the 4^th with a program of American music conducted by Thomas Wilkins that opens with Valery Coleman’s “Fanfare for Uncommon Times,” which was written five years ago.

But for now, the work that stands out is Lang’s “the wealth of nations.” It balances harsh thoughts of how the promise of capitalism has failed society and how racism remains with music of stunning beauty and glory, to gently but forcefully show us, in our age of American dissatisfaction, the direction in which we might go to make us proud again. It needs many performances.

TO the untrained eye, he was just a bloke in a shiny police helmet singing about staying at the YMCA.

But behind the tight trousers and macho character in disco group ­Village People, Victor Willis was a musical hitmaker who co-wrote songs that will provide the soundtrack to every wedding, birthday and office party for years to come.

Yesterday, in a Facebook post, his wife Karen Huff-Willis announced Victor’s death, aged 74.

“It is with profound sadness that I must announce the death of my husband,” she said.

“Victor passed away on Tuesday, June 30, 2026, as a result of a short but aggressive illness.”

Long before he was commanding crowds to put their hands in the air to anthems that defined an era, including YMCA, Go West and In The Navy, Victor was singing gospel music in his Baptist minister father’s church.

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He grew up in San Francisco and his high school band, The Ballads, supported The Temptations.

He sat in on sessions with American jazz trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie, before becoming an actor and singer.

A role in the Las Vegas production of musical Hair earned him a place in Broadway productions of Two Gentlemen Of Verona and The Wiz.

In the late Seventies, he caught the attention of flamboyant French producer Jacques Morali, who was creating a musical group based on the macho stereotypes and gay pin-ups of New York’s Greenwich Village.

Their four-track demo, called The Village People, earned the group a record deal, and Jacques asked ­Victor to become the frontman.

While the rest of the line-up were recruited from dance studios and clubs for the roles of the cowboy, the Native American, the biker, the construction worker and the soldier, Victor was thought to be the only straight member.

After albums Macho Man in 1978, and Cruisin’ in ’79 which gave us YMCA, they put out Go West and its title track became a gay anthem, later covered by The Pet Shop Boys.

It also featured In The Navy, which the US Navy co-opted for a recruitment campaign, before realising they were using the ultimate camp parody.

It was around then that Victor met and married his first wife, future Cosby Show star Phylicia Rashad.

They split in 1982.

After battling growing frustrations within the group, Victor walked out in 1979.

But his departure triggered a downward spiral.

He struggled to escape the group’s flamboyant reputation and establish credibility on his own.

His 1979 solo project, Solo Man, remained unreleased for more than 30 years until 2015.

The Eighties and Nineties became a blur of substance abuse, addiction, and brushes with the law.

In 2015, he said: “I got very depressed over the years.

“I got kind of drugged out, because I was disappointed with the way things were and got frustrated, and gave up for a bit.”

He began to turn things around in 2006 after he received court-ordered substance abuse treatment and completed three years of probation.

After getting clean, he turned his energy towards a battleground between him and ruthless record executives who had pocketed the lion’s share of the royalties from the Village People’s catalogue.

This led Victor to meet his second wife Karen, an attorney who helped him fight his copyright case against the companies who controlled Village People’s hits.

They ­married in 2007.

Victor, armed with a gritty determination, launched a historic, multi-year lawsuit under a loophole in the 1976 US Copyright Act, which allows artists to reclaim their work after 35 years.

In a legal victory that sent shockwaves through the music industry, the US courts ruled in his favour in 2013.

Victor clawed back up to 50 per cent of the lucrative copyright percentages for YMCA and his other hits, becoming a hero to older musicians everywhere.

The resolution paved the way for his return to the group in 2017.

Older, wiser, but with that same thunderous voice, he toured the world to packed arenas, watching three generations of families throw their arms in the air to spell out those four famous letters.

By then, YMCA was being regularly played at Donald Trump’s political rallies, a use Victor was unhappy with.

“I don’t endorse Trump, I’ve never endorsed Trump, nor have the Village People,” he told the BBC in 2020.

However, he surprised fans last year by agreeing to take part in the politician’s second inauguration saying: “Our song YMCA is a global anthem that hopefully helps bring the country together after a tumultuous and divided campaign where our preferred candidate lost.”

In his tribute yesterday, Trump claimed: “He was a great and happy guy who loved that I used YMCA at my rallies.”

Regardless, YMCA remains Victors’ biggest hit, reaching No1 in 17 countries.

The star may have hung up his police helmet for the final time, but his legacy is firmly etched into global nightlife.

As long as there is a wedding with a dancefloor, people will be ready to fling their arms up in the air in the shape of a “Y”.

THE Jam star Bruce Foxton has revealed he’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.

The iconic bassist, 70, took to Facebook this evening to share the news with fans just days after cancelling two shows at short notice due to illness.

In his statement, he revealed the diagnosis came to light after side effects from his cancer treatment were investigated.

He said: “It’s no secret that I’ve undergone treatment for cancer and am still having scans on a regular basis to keep an eye on that.

“However, what you don’t know is that the cancer treatment in itself caused some significant issues for me and investigations into all of that uncovered the fact that I’m now facing a future living with Parkinson’s Disease…and I’m determined to do that as well as I possibly can.

“As anyone coping with this diagnosis will know it’s a huge shock, and it’s taking a long time to let that sink in and for me to accept that my body and mind are dealing with something completely out of my control.

“I have to manage the challenges I now face physically and mentally on a daily basis, and some days are better than others.”

Fans sent the musician their well-wishes in the comments.

One wrote: “Sorry to hear about all your health problems you need to do what is best for you and your family moving forwards.”

Another said: “All the best Bruce, your health is far more important than anything else and I am so sorry that you are having more health struggles. Look after yourself and I hope you enjoy many more years of happiness.”

Bruce cancelled his show in Kidderminster on Friday and postponed the following night’s show in Lincoln after high temperatures aggravated a chest infection.

The former Stiff Little Fingers musician formed From The Jam in 2007 with The Jam drummer Rick Buckler and new frontman Russell Hastings.

Original The Jam frontman Paul Weller was initially critical of the band playing the old hits but his stance softened over the years as his friendship with Foxton strengthened.

The trio were prolific on the touring circuit, thrilling mod fans young and old with the legendary band’s iconic hits such as The Eton Rifles and Going Underground.

Bruce underwent immunotherapy after a cancerous lymph node was found in 2023 and, the following year, he had knee replacement surgery.

The health issues took their toll and fans noticed he appeared to be struggling during shows in 2025, which eventually led to him retiring from From The Jam.

However, he scaled down his schedule and now performs with his All-Star band.

Bruce wears custom hearing aids due to hearing loss from 40 years on stage. He also has lived with tinnitus for years.

When David Jacks published a biography of Peter Asher in 2022, the veteran record producer and manager expressed surprise that anyone would have deemed his life worthy of the treatment. Four years later, he’s no less baffled to have become the subject of a new documentary, “Peter Asher: Everywhere Man,” directed by the filmmakers Dan Geller and Dayna Goldfine.

“It just seemed to me,” he says, “that I wouldn’t be that fascinating.”

The movie, in theaters now, argues otherwise: A child actor alongside his two younger sisters, the bespectacled Asher became an unlikely pop star during the British invasion as half of the duo Peter & Gordon, whose debut single, “A World Without Love” — written by Paul McCartney — hit No. 1 on Billboard’s Hot 100 in 1964. (McCartney offered the song to Asher while the Beatle was dating Asher’s sister Jane.) In 1968, the Beatles made Asher head of A&R at Apple Records, where he signed James Taylor; the two soon moved to Los Angeles and turned Taylor into music’s biggest heartthrob folkie.

Asher went on to shepherd Linda Ronstadt to stardom and to produce records by Diana Ross, Cher, Bonnie Raitt, Randy Newman, Neil Diamond and 10,000 Maniacs, among many others. And at 82 he’s still at it: Last year he produced Barbra Streisand’s latest duets album — they’re due to start work on a new Streisand solo LP, he says — and he’ll perform a show of his own July 19 at the Grammy Museum. Asher, who broke his leg in a recent fall, spoke about it all the other morning at his home in Malibu, where he walked into the kitchen using a cane before sitting down at a table set with pastries and several of the day’s newspapers.

What unites the jobs of musician, producer, executive, manager? What’s the through line?
Love of music and admiration for the people who do it. They’re very different jobs, and I came at them from very different perspectives. Record production was something I set out to do once I understood what a record producer did. Hire musicians much better than yourself and tell them what to do? That’s a cool job — how do I get in on that racket? Whereas I never had any ambitions to be a manager. It’s just that when James and I decided to go out on our own and try to put a career together, we didn’t know who we trusted to do it, so I kind of went, I’ll do it.

What’d you discover about the job of management?
The ingredients are common sense, not being a crook and having a great client.

Which is the hardest of those three?
The last one. I got to induct the first managers inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame: Brian Epstein and Andrew Loog Oldham — the Beatles and the Stones. That’s the hard part. The only thing that would tempt me back into management would be lightning striking for a third time — to see James, to see Linda, then to see somebody comparably brilliant, which I occasionally do. But usually they have a manager already.

What’s the last new act that knocked you out?
Ed Sheeran.

Was that just because he looks like he could be your grandson?
That certainly crossed my mind.

As a producer, your records helped define the sound of rock in the ’70s.
The so-called California sound.

Then the zeitgeist shifted.
One became aware of that. Pop music got very electronic, which I loved.

Was there a place for you in that style?
I didn’t consciously try to make records in that style because I don’t think I could have — not as well as they were being made anyway.

What’s a record from the early ’80s that made you think that?
“Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This).” I couldn’t do that.

Back to the ’70s: The doc is filled with pictures of James looking —
Like a movie star. With the cover of “JT,” I finally went all the way and said, “We’re doing the the glamour shot.” Then we did “Flag,” which everyone hated.

With the maritime flag. A truly perverse album cover.
I loved it. James loved it. Everyone thought we were crazy.

How crucial do you think James’ good looks were to his whole proposition?
I don’t know.

Oh, come on.
I really don’t. I mean, how would you gauge that? There’s probably girls who fell in love with him without listening to the record.

I think you just gauged it.
If he was ugly, would he be as big a star? Probably not.

(Evan Mulling / For The Times)

Same applies to Linda, right?
When I first saw Linda, it was stages of realization. Someone said to me, “You’ve got to go down and see this girl at the Bitter End.” I walk in and she’s singing so well — unspeakably good. Then she looks incredibly great — barefoot, short-shorts. Oh, my God, my heart. Then you meet her, and it turns out she’s a remarkably brilliant woman — extremely well read. You just kind of go, “All these things together — how can it be?” It’s the same thing talking about the Beatles: If you cast it like the Spice Girls, you still couldn’t have gotten four to fit together so perfectly.

Did you like the Spice Girls?
Terrific. “Tell me what you want / What you really, really want” — it’s a smash. And yet none of them are particularly good singers, which is kind of the point.

I went to an event not long ago where Paul McCartney played his new album for a small group of fans. It was fascinating to see the spell McCartney casts over people.
He’s had to get used to it — to admit to himself that he can’t meet people who aren’t amazed that they’re meeting him. Even as someone who’s known him off and on for a long time, you still get the wave of: Holy s—.

You’re still amazed to be around him?
Of course. I get it less — I’m ready for it. But you can’t pretend he’s not Paul McCartney. And he’s gotta live with that his whole life.

You grew up a member of the upper crust, I think it’s fair to say.
I don’t think we were that crusty. But upper, probably, yes.

I wondered how that situated you to live and work among artistic types.
If anything, the upper crust have more time to be artistic — less preoccupied with getting a job and making a living. But my parents worked incredibly hard — we weren’t upper crust in the sense of inherited wealth. My father was a doctor, my mother was a professor of music. But I never struggled, to be honest. I had a comfortable allowance, and then I went to school and worked hard. Everyone talks about sharing a flat with a million people, living on borrowed sandwiches — I skipped that phase.

Did that shape you in any meaningful way?
I don’t know. But I think when people do struggle, it becomes a meaningful part of their lives to get away from it. With someone like James, the struggle was a struggle with drugs. Now he says the worst thing about drugs is they’re a complete waste of time — you waste time doing nothing except looking for drugs. And I think that made him anxious to succeed and to be taken seriously.

I’m sure you saw the New York Times’ list of the 30 greatest living American songwriters.
You knew it was gonna be silly. Randy Newman, for God’s sake — you just cannot not include him.

No Neil Diamond either.
Insane.

And no Billy Joel.
[Shrugs].

How’s your health?
High blood pressure, high cholesterol, need to work out more — old man stuff. Other than that and a broken leg, great.

You’re OK with the cane?
It’s a considerable upgrade from the wheelchair. I like the cane — it’s kind of elegant.

What seems scarier: the body going or the mind going?
The mind going. And it is, slightly. I had a stroke, and bits of my brain aren’t quite working right. But compared to other people I know, I’m fine.

We’re at a moment when a lot of foundational rock ’n’ roll figures —
Are dying. It’s all the rage.

What’s it feel like to see your friends and colleagues go?
Better them than me.

Couple more for you: You managed Courtney Love for a spell.
I met her here in Malibu. I also managed Pamela Anderson for a while because she was a neighbor and asked me to help.

What, you put a shingle out?
“Manager for hire.” I’m trying to remember how I first met Courtney — I think Merck Mercuriadis was talking to her about publishing and Kurt stuff. I liked her. Very smart. I like smart women.

She’s easy to work with? Hard to work with?
Impossible to work with.

What’s James Taylor’s best album?
“JT,” maybe.

What’s Linda Ronstadt’s best album?
“Heart Like a Wheel.” With Linda, it’s unfair because they’re so radically different. How do you compare that to a mariachi record and then to Nelson Riddle?

Working with Riddle on those albums must have been a thrill.
He told us all these incredible stories about Frank Sinatra, who he didn’t like although he admired him enormously. It was John David Souther who originally suggested Nelson. Linda had tried doing the album a different way — did some versions with Jerry Wexler and it didn’t work out. So we had a meeting with Nelson: Would he consider doing a couple of arrangements for us? He went, “No.” We said, “What?” He said, “I’ll do an album, though.”

“A World Without Love” was one of eight songs to top the chart in 1964 with “love” in the title. What’s that say about pop music in the mid-’60s?
Same thing it says about pop music of all time: It’s either “I love you” or “She loves you” or “Why don’t you love me?” Weird Al pointed out to me that when you’re looking for a parody of a song, any song that has “love” in the title, substitute “lunch” and it’s funny. “A World Without Lunch” — I mean, who would want to live in such a place?