sadness

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.

If you want personal stories of survival, family trauma or just how to get over a breakup, look no further than adult animation. Even better: Sometimes these shows do all that and are still funny. We’ve rounded up some of this season’s best examples in the genre.

‘Genndy Tartakovsky’s Primal’ (Adult Swim)

Set in an anachronistic world where prehumans and dinosaurs fight for survival, “Primal” is told sans dialogue and focuses on a Neanderthal named Spear (whose vocal grunts are provided by actor Aaron LaPlante) and a female Tyrannosaurus rex known as Fang. It’s raw, bloody and, somehow, tear-jerking.

“There’s drama, there’s violence, certainly there’s a bit of lightheartedness … we’re not trying to do it like a live-action thing, but we’re trying to get cinematic,” says creator Genndy Tartakovsky. “And because it’s dramatic and there’s no dialogue, we’re leaning into the visual storytelling of it all. This makes it seem a little bit more sophisticated.”

Tartakovsky says he even tries to make “the blood spurts look beautiful and designed”: “We’re not doing it for shock value.” The show also added the escaped female slave Mira (voiced by Laëtitia Eïdo) at the end of Season 1 because the creator felt it worked for the story.

‘Kevin’ (Prime Video)

Talking cats are not new to animation. But this one is going through the very human roller coaster of a relationship rebound and self-discovery.

Joe Wengert co-created “Kevin” with ex-girlfriend/series voice actor Aubrey Plaza as a cathartic thought experiment about their actual pet cat, Kevin. (Jason Schwartzman voices him in the show.)

“It’s more fun to write for the animals,” says Wengert, whose credits include Netflix’s animated “Big Mouth” and Fox’s live-action “New Girl.” “They have another level of crazy.”

The show also doubles as therapy.

“I’ve always been too into my relationship and I sort of neglect my friends,” he says, adding that “I’ve always wanted to write something about that, but it’s kind of sad when it’s a human man. It’s less sad when it’s a cat.”

‘Long Story Short’ (Netflix)

Raphael Bob-Waksberg, who also created Netflix’s “BoJack Horseman,” knows his beat is animated shows that are both funny and thought-provoking. He says the difference with “Long Story Short,” in addition to it being about humans and not an anthropomorphic horse, is that it has “sadness we can relate to.”

“Here, we see characters sad in the way that we are sad and we go, ‘Oh, this is not a cartoon exaggeration of our sadness.’ This is exactly the same as our sadness,” Bob-Waksberg says.

In order to keep the show from being a total buzzkill, the writers will craft scenes like an intense conversation between adult siblings about fertility treatments in the midst of the chaos and the bizarre costuming of a child’s dance concert.

He says you can do this in live-action, but it would have to be something in the Tina Fey-Robert Carlock style like NBC’s “30 Rock” or Netflix’s “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” which are known for rapid-fire bits.

“Usually in live-action, when you think about dramedy, your head goes to like, well, not too funny and not too dramatic. And my shows are kind of the opposite,” he laughs.

‘Mating Season’ (Netflix)

Like another show Andrew Goldberg co-created, Netflix’s “Big Mouth,” “Mating Season” is about sex and relationships. But, because it’s not about kids, it can be less metaphoric. And, because it’s about a group of Gen Z-ish forest animals, it can almost seem … cute?

“It feels less voyeuristic than with people,” Goldberg explains of “Mating Season.”

Goldberg, who loves nature documentaries like Netflix’s “Life on Our Planet,” says they opened the second episode of “Mating Season” with a parody documentary because “we wanted to remind people as much as possible that, yes, these are cartoon characters. But these animals are real, and they’re out there, and they’re going about their lives.”

He says the writers were also inspired by dating shows about humans such as Netflix’s “Love Is Blind” and Peacock’s “Love Island,” because “we really discovered, as we were writing the first season, how much the show was a romantic comedy.”

‘Strip Law’ (Netflix)

“Strip Law,” about a Las Vegas lawyer attempting to live up to his late mother’s legacy, is a David and Goliath story, in which Adam Scott’s Lincoln Gumb and a ragtag crew attempt to defeat the powerful and nefarious attorney Steve Nichols (Keith David). It’s also a send-up of legal procedurals, with Lincoln’s cases including a fight over who’s the real Santa Claus and a custody battle that devolves into a theological debate. Even the season finale is a meta masterpiece that’s told from the points of view of Lincoln’s rival attorneys.

“It would be disingenuous to say we weren’t at least a little trying to weird people out,” creator Cullen Crawford laughs.

Crawford cut some of his teeth on CBS’ “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert,” but says he switched formats when he got burned out writing jokes about President Trump. He says that, at least in the comedy world, “a good animation writer will be a good live-action writer and the other way around, to an extent, as long as you understand the mediums.”

NIALL Horan spoke about the pain he’s living with after Liam Payne’s early death.

The singers met as contestants on The X Factor where they were formed into world-famous boyband One Direction alongside Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, and Louis Tomlinson.

Liam passed away in October 2024 after falling from a balcony in Buenos Aires and Niall managed to see his friend in Argentina shortly before his death.

“I’m glad of that, it means my last memory of him was happy,” he told The Times.

“It still feels surreal. On day one I was, like, ‘Nah, it didn’t happen.’ Our friendship was a bond that was there for ever even if we hadn’t seen each other for a while and it’s wild that one day, like the flick of a switch, he’s gone.”

Niall also said he has stayed in contact with Liam’s family.

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“All our families are in touch, they shared those experiences too,” he said.

The Irish lad also wrote a song for Liam on his new album, Dinner Party.

“I think it’s his type of song, he liked Coldplay, he loved songs like You & I by One Direction, songs that went somewhere,” Niall explained adding, “It’s funny, actually, now you say that, thinking about the stuff he liked.”

He also described the “light and shade” of his grief over Liam’s death.

“When I think of Liam’s passing, there is sadness, but it also makes me laugh and smirk because of the memories we had. I’ll go to places and think of something stupid in a hotel or something random that makes me laugh,” Niall said.

“We always had good fun in Australia because we were able to get out and go to the beach. Liam wasn’t too bad at surfing. I can barely swim.”

On a lighter note, Niall also opened up on the possibility of an One Direction reunion.

“God knows. I mean look at Harry there, look at Louis, the boys are flying, so God knows, but everyone still asks about it, it’s exciting.”

In a squeaker race for Cannes’ top prize, Romanian director Cristian Mungiu prevailed on Saturday, taking the Palme d’Or for his tense community drama “Fjord.”

The movie, a widely admired conversation-starter at the festival, stars Sebastian Stan and Renate Reinsve as religious parents who come into conflict with the child protection services of their tiny Norwegian town where they have relocated with their family.

Mungiu, a previous winner of the Palme for his controversial 2007 abortion drama “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days,” now joins an exclusive group of 10 filmmakers who have won the Palme twice — an achievement shared by Francis Ford Coppola (1974’s “The Conversation” and 1979’s “Apocalypse Now”) and Ruben Östlund (2017’s “The Square” and 2022’s “Triangle of Sadness”), among others. No one has ever won a third Palme d’Or.

Another record, maybe even more impressive, was set by distributor Neon, which, with “Fjord,” extends its streak of Palme wins to an unprecedented seven in a row. Those previous six Neon winners, many of which eventually claimed Oscars, are “Parasite,” “Titane,” “Triangle of Sadness,” “Anatomy of a Fall,” “Anora” and last year’s “It Was Just an Accident.”

Neon will release “Fjord” in the fall, with an extensive awards campaign to follow.

This year’s nine-member main competition jury, led by Korean director Park Chan-wook and studded with notables including “The Substance” star Demi Moore, Stellan Skarsgård and “Hamnet” director Chloé Zhao, seemed intent on spreading the wealth among as many winners as possible. There were three ties at Saturday’s awards ceremony.

The award for actress was shared by Virginie Efira and Tao Okamoto, co-stars of Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s “All of a Sudden,” a movie pegged by many to potentially go all the way. Similarly, the prize for actor was bestowed on both Emmanuel Macchia and Valentin Campagne, co-stars of Lukas Dhont’s World War I romantic drama “Coward.”

The prize for directing went to three people — and two movies — with a joint win for Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi (better known as Los Javis) for their century-spanning queer historical drama “The Black Ball,” as well as to director Paweł Pawlikowski for his exquisite post-World War II psychodrama “Fatherland.” (Pawlikowski half-joked at the podium, “This was a disastrous piece of mise-en-scène” after the awkward award presentation had him waiting in the wings.)

Claiming this year’s Grand Prize (essentially second place) was “Minotaur,” the rapturously received comeback film of Andrey Zvyagintsev, a Russian director who had been sidelined with a near-fatal bout of long COVID that put him in a coma. His new movie, about a wealthy Moscow family, is both an erotic thriller and an indictment of amoral oligarchy detached from the war with Ukraine.

The festival’s third-place Jury Prize went to the borderland German drama “The Dreamed Adventure,” directed by Valeska Grisebach.