song

Early Motown songwriter Janie Bradford Hobbs, who helped pen hits including “Money (That’s What I Want)” and “Too Busy Thinking About My Baby,” has died following an extended illness at a Los Angeles hospital, her family said Saturday. She was 87.

Bradford Hobbs was born in Charleston, Mo., and later moved to Detroit.

She was introduced in the late 1950s to Motown founder Berry Gordy by neighbor and singer Jackie Wilson. She joined Motown as a receptionist in 1958 and like many of the company’s employees took part in the creative process that helped make Motown a music industry powerhouse.

She and Gordy co-wrote “Money (That’s What I Want).” The song was recorded in 1959 by Barrett Strong and became an early hit. It was covered by the Beatles, which also become a hit.

“Too Busy Thinking About My Baby” first was recorded by The Temptations and later became a hit for Marvin Gaye. Bradford Hobbs also wrote songs for Stevie Wonder, the Supremes, Martha & The Vandellas and others.

“Janie was there with me from the very beginning, before there was even a Motown, and she will always hold a very special place in my heart and in the Motown family,” Gordy said in a statement.

“Janie was one of a special group I have always thought of as the original Motown family — the unsung heroes who believed in the dream before anyone knew what Motown would become,” Gordy continued. “She was one of the people who helped make Motown what it became.”

Bradford Hobbs later became head of writer relations for Jobete, Motown’s publishing company. After leaving Motown, she founded the annual Heroes and Legends Awards. The event spanned about 30 years, honoring music stars and awarding scholarships, according to her family.

She is survived by her husband, Wardean Hobbs; daughter, Nicole Hobbs; son, Lance Finney; and two grandsons.

Williams writes for the Associated Press.

Grammy-winning singer Jill Scott brought her “To Whom This May Concern” album — her first in more than a decade — to life at Inglewood’s YouTube Theater last week. Backed by a razor-sharp 11-piece all-male band (including background singers fittingly dubbed “Freeman”), Scott moved effortlessly through a two-hour set filled with songs from the genre-expansive album along with several fan favorites like “He Loves Me (Lyzel in E Flat)” and “Gettin’ in the Way.”

Enforcing a phone-free policy at her personal request, the North Philadelphia native kept the audience intensely locked in — hanging onto her every word and every seemingly impossible note she struck with ease. Before long, it was easy to forget that we didn’t have our devices. Smiles filled the intimate room. Couples danced together. Strangers sang to each other in joyful unison, while others closed their eyes or held their hands on their chest in complete awe of witnessing a veteran artist in her element.

Jill Scott is on tour for “To Whom This May Concern,” her first album in over a decade.

(Jada Imani M)

In her only interview during the tour thus far, we caught up with Scott backstage to talk why she never performs a song the same way twice, how removing devices makes concerts better and why she thinks “To Whom This May Concern” deserves several accolades.

I’m still coming down from all of the energy from the show. How are you feeling post-show?

I am hot from the inside, and it’s gonna take me hours to calm down. [Laughs]

You’ve always described music as an intimate, two-way conversation between you and the audience. For this tour, you created a strictly phone-free space. Why did you decide to do that and how did this shift the experience for you as a performer?

In a couple of ways. One part is that it’s terrifying because there’s no buffer between me and them, so that’s actually scary, but I embrace it. The other part of it is that it’s wonderful because people initially come in kind of nervous about not having a buffer between myself and the space or themselves and space. Then I watch them gradually release, and I get a kick out of that every night. That’s my favorite part.

I’m surprised to hear that it’s scary for someone like you who’s been performing at such a high level for so many years.

Because I care. It matters to me. I really want them to have a good time. I really want them to release some things, allow themselves to be. If you want to make out, if you want to dance, if you want to cry, if you want to shout, or put up your hands in the air, or sit still, I want them to be able to do that. I think it’s important. That’s the relationship. That’s the real relationship between artist and fans of the music. It’s the connection between the music. I’m here to [be of] service. I’m here to push the ship along, but it’s really their relationship with the music and I’m a conduit. That part is probably one of my other favorites. You have to relinquish your id and allow the thing to be the thing. I think sometimes you can practice the joy and the life out of a thing. We practice a lot, but then we forget everything we practice so that it’s alive. My musicians’ freedom is mandatory. It’s a part of the job. So if they show up and play the exact same thing in the exact same way every night, they’re probably not going to be around very long. I need them to be wide open and to rediscover the music every night from their perspective. It’s their 11 perspectives on stage, and then of course there’s the lighting designer. I need him to be free. Don’t give me the same light at the same time every night. Even front-of-the-house sound engineer as well as our in-ear monitors, everybody is playing a part. “What does she need? Let’s read her. Let’s, you know, pay attention. What does she want?” It’s a lot of fun.

You could see really feel that from you and your entire band.

Tonight was a different audience. They were very attentive. Last night they danced all night long from the very beginning. I couldn’t even see the floor. Tonight they were listening. I know it’s a Wednesday night. Everybody’s got to go to work [the next morning], but they were beautiful. The listening audience is probably my favorite. They get quiet and I’m like “Oh, it’s so scary. Am I doing the right thing?” [Laughs] But that means they’re listening. Who doesn’t want to be heard?

Your son came out with you tonight. How was that experience for you?

It’s beautiful to see. He told me Tierra Whack is not traveling with us because she has a new album out, “Whack’s Museum,” so she’s a little busy. He was like, “Mom, how do you feel about me doing the second verse?” and I was like “Be at sound check tomorrow with a mic in your hand.”

He looked so comfortable on stage.

He does. It’s kind of scary. Super exciting. I don’t know what he’ll want to do, but he’s working our set, so he’s a part of the crew. So after he does his performance, he puts back on his blacks and he does his job, and I love that for him, to have that sense of responsibility. He’s exceeding anybody’s and everybody’s expectations. He’s so good at this. All the clothes you see, he steamed up.

He’s really working his way up.

Yes, you must earn your way.

Your album “To Whom This May Concern” released in February, and it feels like a love letter from your favorite auntie. There’s lessons about learning from your mistakes, honoring your ancestors and loving yourself. Now that your fans have been living with these songs for several months, I’m curious if performing them live has shifted your relationship with them at all?

No. On a great night, I like telling the stories that I’ve read. I like embodying them in front of other people. I like watching them experience them in a new way. I’m a fan of that. It just makes it more and more true. Then I see how many people are singing along and how many people are looking at me, and I’m like “Yesss.” It’s reaching the people and I know it’s going to be different because there’s a different audience every night. So I’m thrilled about the project and how it’s touching people. You hope you don’t work this hard at a thing for it to fall on deaf ears, and I know how microwavable music has been, but I believe the cream rises to the top. It’s been a beautiful 26 years. I look forward to 26 more — in my way.

Your album has been receiving a lot of praise from fans and critics. There’s still a few months before the Grammy nominations are announced, but at this point in your career, how important is that recognition to you? Is it as important as it was when you first started your career?

I think I deserve it. That’s all. [Flashes a smile]

I mean everything about this project from beginning to end is blood, sweat and tears. I stayed up many nights just to write, a hunger in my belly and a savage appetite. And I mean it. Everything is true and I love that for me. That’s the kind of thing that takes time and I think musically, it’s incredible. I think the stories are awesome and intentional, and everything about it, from the planning of it to the marketing, has been from my soul, and I think it deserves several.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The remains of Olin’s rented camper.

(Taylor Olin)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The band unwittingly stumbled into virality.

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

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

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

Album art for “Somewhere Up There.”

(Taylor Olin / The Something Specials)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s bizarrely easy,” Slone adds.

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

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

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

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

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

IT is the dancefloor hit that was the late Queen’s favourite song.

But we can reveal Abba’s Dancing Queen — released 50 years ago this week — almost had a completely different name and made the Swedish foursome cry the first time they heard the final edit.

In an exclusive interview to mark half a century of the song, which has been streamed more than two billion times and was voted the UK’s favourite dancefloor filler, ­historian Carl Magnus Palm explains that Abba still have unheard songs.

But friend of the band Carl fears the world will never hear them.

And he insists that members Agnetha Faltskog, Bjorn Ulvaeus, Benny Andersson and Frida Lyngstad have no interest in reforming.

Carl, who has known the band for 25 years, told The Sun: “Dancing Queen was one the songs that Abba are most proud of as its sound was so unique at the time they wrote it.

“But the lyrics didn’t come until a long time after the melody was formed.

“They told me that for weeks they sung nonsense words over the chorus.

The working title was ‘Boogaloo’ as they were the words they sung instead of Dancing Queen for a long time.

“I’m not sure it would’ve been the hit it is today if they had stuck with that. When they eventually found the lyrics and the song was finished, some of the band were reduced to tears, they found it so beautiful.”

On the prospect of them reforming and releasing of new songs, he added: “They seem very firm that they are going to enjoy their retirement and that they’ll be no more new music.

“However, I know there are a few songs which have never been heard. They were written for their last album and didn’t make the cut.

“They won’t even tell people the names of the tracks. I guess while they remain unreleased there is always a chance of new music. It’s not impossible but unlikely.”

Carl revealed that the famously private Swedish group remain close but rarely socialise together.

And he said they shed tears of joy when they saw their younger selves in hologram form at London’s Abba Voyage show.

Carl also said that songwriter Bjorn is working on a new musical with the help of AI and an unnamed “British female artist”.

Abba formed in 1972 and went on to become one of the world’s biggest acts, selling more than 50million records.

Dancing Queen alone — which was released in August 1976 — has sold more than 4million globally and has two billion downloads on Spotify.

The song was not only voted the UK’s favourite Abba hit of all time by Radio 2 listeners in 2024 but was voted the nation’s favourite dancefloor song ever.

But Carl, who got close to the band having been a historian and author on their music for 25 years, told how the song could have been so different to the track we all love.

He said: “Abba had a big hit with Waterloo in 1974 but the reality was everything after that for a while had been a flop in the UK and they put great store by what was a success in ­Britain.

“They wondered whether part of it was down to getting distracted in the songwriting process. So in the summer of 1975 they went to a tiny cabin in the Swedish archipelago island of Viggso near Stockholm.

“Bjorn and Agnetha, who were married at the time, had a property there and they had this small two-bedroom guest cabin with an indoor porch.

“I was lucky enough to be allowed to go there. They set up Benny’s piano and two chairs and started to write a melody.

“No one could reach them there, so they could focus. For the first time Bjorn brought an electric guitar and amp instead of his acoustic guitar because he told me he’d been listening to lots of American dance music like Stevie Wonder and George McCrae’s Rock Your Baby.

“They then came up with this melody. It was the beginning of Dancing Queen. For ages the lyrics were ­gibberish — English words with no meaning or cohesion. I heard them. The chorus was simply ‘Boogaloo’.

“In the next few weeks they went back to the mainland and laid it all down.

“Benny and their manager wrote the lyrics about this 17-year-old ­clubbing girl.

“They gave no suggestion it was based on Agnetha and Frida — just a fictitious young clubber. They told me that they got rid of some extra verses, which the fans never heard.

“I’m glad they did as originally the first two lines to the song were going to be ‘Baby, baby, you’re out of sight. Hey, you’re looking all right tonight’.

“They knew people would have hated that so they cut it out.

“It was a good job because I doubt it would’ve been the hit it is today with those as your opening lyrics.”

Carl also told about how the band became emotional when the song was finally cut.

He said: “Bjorn and Benny told me there were absolutely ecstatic. They finished it late at night and Bjorn was desperate to play it to someone. Agnetha was asleep at home so he went to his sister’s place instead, and they played this tape over and over again.

“Bjorn went home to Frida, who he was married to then, and played it.

“She told me she put the tape in the tape machine, pressed the play button, and she thought it was so beautiful that she started to cry.

“Agnetha has since told me she had chills and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up when she heard it.”

The video for the song was recorded in a “matter of hours” on a low budget.

When released, Dancing Queen spent six weeks at No1 in the UK and topped the charts in 15 different countries.

According to Carl, Abba loved the song so much they always tried to play it as their final tune of every encore at live shows.

It gained fans from all over the world, including the King and Queen of Sweden and the late Queen ­Elizabeth, who regularly said was her favourite song.

Virgin Radio DJ Chris Evans once recalled performing a DJ set at a ­private royal party.

When Dancing Queen was played, the Queen reportedly remarked to her guests: “I always try to dance when this song comes on because I am the Queen and I like to dance”.

Carl added that the band were moved by having the late Queen as a fan, saying: “They were all very touched.”

However, Bjorn told him that he was “puzzled” by the fact Dancing Queen is seen as a dancefloor song as “he still thinks it’s too slow to dance to”.

In 1979, Bjorn and Agnetha split and two years later Frida and Benny did the same. It saw the band go on an indefinite hiatus.

But in 2021, they returned with new material and album Voyage.

A year later, interactive experience Abba ­Voyage opened in London — showing the band as holograms from their pomp.

Carl added: “They loved Abba ­Voyage and they went to the opening. Bjorn told me it was like watching a band he used to know from decades ago.

“He said it was like an out-of-body experience.

“There were tears of happiness when they saw it, definitely.”

Carl, who first got to know the band when they worked with him to release his 2001 book Bright Lights Dark Shadows: The Definitive Bio- graphy Of Abba, said that the likelihood of there being any reunion is very slim.

Carl added: “They are winding down now.

“They like their privacy. They have grandchildren. They are in their 70s and 80s.

“The chance of a reunion is very slim I think. But it’s not impossible. There are still the songs that didn’t make it on Voyage, but they are showing no signs of wanting anyone to know what they are.

“They are still close but they don’t really socialise. They are all living very low-key lives.

“It is only Bjorn who is working. He is working on a musical — using the help of AI — with a British female singer, whose name they have not told me.

“One thing I know for sure is that when they recorded Dancing Queen on that tiny porch they would never have dreamed it would still be as relevant and popular today — 50 years on.”

• Bright Lights Dark Shadows: The ­Definitive Biography Of Abba by Carl ­Magnus Palm is available now.

Hugo Lara and Manolo Cabrera — the Mexican DJ pair better known as RØZ — casually strolled through Sightglass Coffee in Hollywood, one gripping a half-melted iced coffee, the other an empty Erewhon juice bottle.

To any onlooker, they might appear as two standard Gen Z Angelenos in sardonic streetwear: 22-year-old Cabrera flaunted a hat that referenced the 2008 financial crisis while 25-year-old Lara’s faded tee read, “You don’t dream of a better version of yourself.”

But over the past year, this fresh-faced pair from Querétaro, a small state just outside Mexico City, has dominated the festival world circuit. Spinning heart-thumping electronic beats and Latin house rhythms, RØZ has taken the stage at many a popular event, such as the most recent Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, Lollapalooza Chicago, Hard Summer, EDC Las Vegas and Sueños.

“We’ve had huge crowds at festivals, even the workers on stage are like, ‘No way, you filled more venues than yesterday’s headliner,’” Cabrera told The Times. “We filled it up and people started leaving for the next person, which is obviously not cool. It feels awful. But you do think: good! They value Latinos and Mexicans now.”

Besides regaling ravers at their concerts — which will continue for the remainder of the calendar year, including a 20-city North American tour that kicks off in Boston on Oct. 21 — RØZ has landed another major artistic goal.

“Everyone will give [the album] a different interpretation, but I think the through line is the idea of drama, or poetic essence,” said Hugo Lara.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

Last Friday, they released their first full-length album, “Se Esta Haciendo Tarde.” It’s a 19-track, introspective debut that solidifies the duo’s standing in the EDM world as both masterful mixers and vocalists.

“We are neither fully DJs, or fully singers, but artists,” said Cabrera. “Our shows, with the album, are going to be us playing synths, at another point singing and at another point we mix some songs.”

Featuring cameos from Latin superstars like Peso Pluma, J Balvin and Ryan Castro, the LP itself is hard to define as simply house music; RØZ is known best for peppering its EDM with a heavy dose of Latino sazon. It’s a sonic recipe that the two former schoolmates have been mastering since they were under lockdown from COVID.

This era also saw the commercial rise of other Mexican artists in their generation: Natanael Cano and Latin Mafia were among the most prominent Mexican acts who maximized their creativity during the isolation period and used social media platforms like TikTok to gain traction.

“It’s like if Fred Again, Skrillex, Frank Ocean, Mora and Bad Bunny adopted a child and raised him,” said Cabrera about their own music, which they began uploading to the streaming platform Soundcloud in 2022.

At the start of their disc jockey journey, they remixed already established songs, from Bad Bunny and Bomba Estéreo’s “Ojitos Lindos” to Bellakath’s “Gatita.” By 2024, they would release their frosty original track, “Cora de Hielo” under Warner Music Mexico; this featured Natt Calma and Mau Moctezuma, artists whom they met through the local indie scene.

Their subsequent releases went viral — including the dark-synth pop “Flashes” with Yng Lvcas and atmospheric “Apaga la Luz” with a rather mellowed performance from Peso Pluma — which were released under LT:Vision Records, Queens Road Music and Atlantic Records.

“At that time, emotions were secondary [in the music],” said Cabrera when looking back on those early songs. “Perhaps we didn’t resonate with the artist’s lyrics, we might have helped with some ideas. But with this [new] project, we wanted to find more of a balance — we want to be transparent, while also releasing f— bangers.”

Inspired by the transient beauty of cherry blossoms, known in Japan as sakura — which is illustrated in their album cover, alongside a dark pegasus — much of the LP also hinges on melodrama. Glitchy beat drops in “Acelero Lento” (featuring Chitra) fade into acoustic ballads. The bouncy freestyle rhythm in “Soho” melts into feverish pop harmonies. There’s also an interlacing spiritual hymn in “Yo Gospel” (featuring Rodrii) that showcases the heavenly vocals of an American-style church choir.

“Everyone will give [the album] a different interpretation, but I think the through line is the drama, or poetic essence,” said Lara. “Perhaps in 10 years we will listen to the same song and have a different interpretation.”

The new LP is imbued with various Latin genre fusions. In “Ya es de Noche” (featuring Rodrii and Olisso) they open with neo-perreo rhythms that slowly wade in and out of a cumbia-guided trance. In “Hanami,” named after the traditional Japanese custom of observing a floral bloom, RØZ is joined by Colombian producer Sky Rompiendo, whose pulsating reggaeton beats undergo a warping process, as their lyrics harp on romantic tension.

“Cherry blossoms only last a while, so it was our way of saying that we must appreciate the moment in which beauty exists,” said Lara.

The magnetic pull of RØZ — whose stage name is pronounced like the second syllable in “arroz” — cannot be overstated. They’ve already sold out six shows in their upcoming tour, which will wrap up Feb. 27 in their home state of Querétaro. Their popularity comes at a time when electronic music was registered as the largest-growing genre in the U.S. in the first half of 2026, per Luminate’s 2026 data report, which also found that casual monthly listenership in Latin music peaked at 54% of streams in the first quarter.

The growing admiration for Latin-fused EDM by Latino listeners was most visually evident during their Coachella debut in April. One attendee uploaded a video to Instagram showing the jammed entrance to the Sonora Tent, which reached full capacity before the duo began their Sunday set: “Coachella underestimating the Latino crowds like [what do you mean] I can’t see RØZ [because] it’s at full capacity both weekends,” the subtext on the video read.

Even before their breakout year, on the night of their first U.S. performance on the rooftop of the Fonda Theatre in Los Angeles last August, the line to get inside stretched across the Hollywood Boulevard sidewalk with attendees eager to hear the pair’s early tracks.

Still, it doesn’t surprise RØZ that a Latino act like themselves might be early on the call sheet — or left to assemble a last-minute crew after their original team ran into visa processing delays ahead of the first Coachella weekend. “In this genre that we’re moving in, you’d never picture a Latino headliner. Latinos are always put down, down, down,” said Cabrera.

But some milestones have given them faith that the mainstream world is opening up to putting Latino acts at the top of the bill; including the fact that Colombian singer Karol G was the first Latina Coachella headliner this year. “And with music in Spanish, not English,” marveled Lara.

And rather than sulk about the conditions of Latino artists, RØZ is ready to put up a fight.

“Just because I’m Mexican or Latino doesn’t mean that I can’t connect with people the same way a person from the United States can,” said Cabrera. “Headlining is possible, without a doubt.”

OLIVIA Dean broke down in tears while singing her song ‘Let Alone The One You Love’ live on stage.

The singer, 27, performed in Boston earlier this week as part of her ‘The Art of Loving’ tour but became overcome with emotion during the poignant track.

The moment was shared on TikTok, with Olivia looking stunning in a gorgeous red dress with a lace detailing.

As she belted out the track, she struggled to keep her emotion in as she began to cry.

She wiped the tears away from her face as the audience cheered loudly for her.

Olivia continued singing as she attempted to hold it together during the performance.

SHAK ATTACK

Huge chart battle as Shakira set to STOP Sam Fender scoring longest running No1

REIN HIM IN

TikToker Chris Olsen reveals boyfriend cheated while he was at Olivia Dean gig

The song in question was released in September last year as part of her critically acclaimed studio album of the same name as her tour.

The track delves into the painful realisation that a partner is trying to stop your personal growth.

It explores the heavy emotional toll of romantic disappointment, capturing the grief of choosing self-love over a relationship where you feel small or disposable.

The lyrics include: “Though I’ve tried to hold on, and, if you knew me at all, you wouldn’t try to keep me small.

“Who would do that to a friend, let alone the one you love?”

Fans flocked to TikTok to share their thoughts as one asked: “Who hurt her?”

Another person demanded: “OK s**t just got real. Who hurt my baby?”

Somebody else commented: “NAAAH she’s singing it like she’s talking to someone.”

Yet another penned: “It’s okay, I cry during her songs too.”

While a fifth added: “These lyrics are real as f**k and that pain is DEEP!”

It comes after she turned down the chance to headline Glastonbury next year – where Harry Styles is topping the bill.

She was romantically linked to the former One Direction star two years ago, although they always denied they dated.

She is said to be opting to work on new music in 2027 instead and hopes to perform at the music festival in 2028.

An insider told The Sun: “Olivia’s team had conversations with Glastonbury about headlining in 2027 and she was extremely flattered.

“But after some reflection, she said she wants to take some time to work on new music next year, with a rough plan to return when her third album is ready.

“Of course, if she did it next year, her name would be right next to Harry’s and she just wants to move on from that now.

“She’s happy for him to have his moment, but she doesn’t feel like next year is hers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Steve Appleford)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Foos drummer soon wanted in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Steve Appleford)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It may be summertime, but Karol G is unapologetically leaning into her sadness.

On Friday, the Colombian pop star released her sixth studio album “No Me Arrepiento de Sentir Tanto,” a 14-track project that details the depths of heartache one can only access when finally tuning out the world.

Tinged with dream-pop accents and acoustic instrumentation — though still fringed with her signature reggaeton-pop flair — it is a dramatic departure from her previous album, “Tropicoqueta,” a lofty, genre-rich album that envisioned a Latina-led utopia as a tropic floral paradise.

Now, with “No Me Arrepiento de Sentir Tanto” — which in English translates to “I Don’t Regret Feeling So Much” — Karol G swaps her vibrant, tropical facade for a soft blue vulnerability. Her special new brand of perreo melancolía features guest vocals by Drake (who sings in Spanish), Bruno Mars, Greg Gonzalez (of Cigarettes After Sex), as well as Spanish stars Judeline and Rusowsky.

The melodrama begins early on with the opening track, “Te Llevas To” — a moody EDM elegy that explores the loss of one’s self after a relationship ends. In an interview with Elle magazine, the hit maker shared that she spent a lot of time alone when creating this project, following her split from Colombian singer-songwriter Feid late last year — long before headlines caught wind of their breakup in January.

“Everything started when I went to Hawaii [last November]. I did a lot of hiking alone. I would climb the mountains alone. I would stand there gazing at the sky. I learned a lot about enjoying my solitude in this industry — we are really, really lonely. Compared to the rest of the world, you’re very isolated,” said Karol G in the Elle interview.

Rumblings of the new project first surfaced in April when Karol G performed at the 2026 Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival as its first Latina headliner. There, she debuted “Después de Ti,” a shoegaze ballad joined by Greg Gonzalez, frontman of the indie-pop band Cigarettes After Sex; the song expressed profound grief after Karol experienced a loved one’s death.

“I cry a lot. I’m super sentimental and I’ve hated myself a lot for that,” Karol G revealed to Elle in her July cover story. “But at the same time, I’d rather suffer because I lived too much — because I loved too much, because I had too much fun — than to not have had those experiences, you know? I’m inviting everyone to be a little more dramatic, a little more extra.”

Although her classic bichota essence — a term Karol G frequently uses to describe herself, as a female counterpart to the Puerto Rican bichote, or “big shot” — is still heavily present in the new LP. Earlier this summer, Karol teased the song “Matadora” during the opening night of her international stadium tour in Chicago; produced by reggaeton pioneer Tainy, the sultry track is hallmarked by a muffled jazz trumpet and suggestive verses for an unknown paramour.

Her longtime collaborator, Colombian record producer Ovy On The Drums, also returns to incorporate elements of Karol’s the Grammy-winning 2023 album, “Mañana Será Bonito,” which followed her public breakup with ex-fiancé Anuel AA and grew into a massive commercial hit. With Ovy, Karol revived the shadowy timbre of her joint Shakira track “TQG” into the new “Bebiendo Lágrimas,” a reggaeton song that adamantly rejects the notion of love.

Mexican American producer Edgar Barrera — who previously worked with Karol on her merengue smash “Si Antes Te Hubiera Conocido,” as well as “Mi Ex Tenía Razón” and “Gucci los Paños” — reprises his role as a música mexicana connoisseur, aiding in Karol’s synth-doused Tejana-style cumbia, “Alguien Que Te Amaba.” (The track was also written with legendary songwriter Pete Astudillo, who co-wrote many of Selena Quintanilla‘s greatest hits.)

In the anguished “Con Quien Andara,” the singer pays tribute to the Spanish singer-songwriter Jeanette and her hazy, sentimental pop ballad from 1976 titled “Porque Te Vas?” And if that’s not enough of a nostalgia bomb, there’s the dream-pop reggaeton track “Bby Wow,” which features Judeline and Rusowsky and was inspired by the popular 2003 dancehall track, “Coolie Dance Rhythm” by Cordel “Scatta” Burrell. (Millennials may also recall echoes of this sample in popular tracks like Nina Sky and Jabba’s 2004 “Move Ya Body.”)

A word of advice for the Karol G fans — tropicoquetas and bichotas alike — this is an intimate record that’s best heard alone for the first time. So light up that candle, lock the doors and bring the tissues if you have to — just don’t be ashamed to feel all the feels, or shake your booty if the mood strikes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Lester Cohen / Getty Images)

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

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

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

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

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

What’s the trouble with “bucket list”?

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

Who pissed off Ariana Grande? Well, who didn’t?

On her new album, “Petal,” the pop superstar opens the spigot on what she’s described as an “unfiltered rage” to blast any number of feckless exes, a prying public obsessed with her body and her personal life — and not least herself for allowing anyone the power to hurt her in the first place.

“Tell me who’s to blame — is it the people or myself?” she wonders against the icy synth stabs of the title track.

Her answer, delivered as a sneering little aside: “Yeah.”

“Petal” marks a dramatic shift from Grande’s previous LP, 2024’s “Eternal Sunshine,” a tender and melancholy electro-pop collection that laid out a kind of emotional philosophy of heartbreak. She recorded the new album with the same team — the hit-making writer-producers Ilya Salmanzadeh and Max Martin — but here they go for a murkier, more percussive sound to match Grande’s dark mood.

Tolling electric guitar accompanies her in “Freak” as she muses on “all of the life I’ve been denied,” while “Oh Well” puts a jittery U.K. garage beat under her sneering farewell to an unnamed antagonist: “Good luck on your way to hell.” In “Hate That I Made You Love Me,” which debuted at No. 1 on Billboard’s Hot 100 when Grande released it as “Petal’s” lead single, she sings, “I’ve held your projections when you’ve felt so insecure,” over a trudging groove that moves like a funeral march.

These downcast observations arrive at what would seem to be a professional high point for Grande, who recently wrapped her extended stay in the “Wicked”-verse and who’s in the middle of a tour that’s drawn adoring fans to arenas across the country.

But perhaps that’s the point: Almost every song on “Petal” can be interpreted two ways — as a story about a broken relationship between two people or as a tale about the toxic connection between an idol and her audience. (More than once did this record make me think about Taylor Swift’s “The Tortured Poets Department.”)

“My pain is music — do you hear me everywhere?” Grande asks in “Warning Signs (Interlude),” which climaxes with a pithy diagnosis of pop stardom in the parasocial age: “You don’t deserve me / You know you don’t, you never have / But I want you to feel me / I wish someone could hear me.”

Complaints about celebrity can be pretty tedious, of course; sometimes it feels as though famous pop singers have forgotten how to write about anything other than life in the social-media fishbowl.

Yet “Petal” gets some creative traction from how Grande chooses to use her voice; instead of belting, she rarely rises above a whisper, which gives a spooky, slightly creepy quality to her thoughts on being endlessly scrutinized. The airiness of her singing provides some comedy too in a hard-edged song such as “Like I Do,” where after noting that “all that s— talk keeps me well-fed,” she tells whoever needs to hear it, “No one f— you like I do.”

Having gotten all this off her chest, Grande finishes the album by allowing in some light: Over a zippy new wave arrangement, “Bad Thing (Bunny Hop)” ponders the renewing energy of a fresh romance — or maybe a rekindled old one — while the glistening “Nowhere, Nobody” has her taking deep breaths with a lover she’s convinced might finally give her what she needs.

“Convinced” is probably the wrong word.

“Hard to believe in a perfect ending,” she admits, “But that’s all right.”

The manager for British singer Boy George has pulled him from the West End revival of “Jesus Christ Superstar” days after the singer released a pro-Israel reggae song online.

Last weekend, the pop star posted on X a reggae song that includes the lyrics, “You say genocide, I say war / When you’re attacked that’s what the army’s for” and “Musicians holding flags, mouthing like sheep / Propaganda fuelled by the Internet feels so weak.” The post was met with swift blowback.

On Thursday, the artist’s manager announced on Instagram that he was pulling Boy George from the West End revival, suggesting the pro-Isreal song might take “the focus” away from the production. He had been slated to play King Herod in a London Palladium production from Aug. 3-15.

“After careful consideration, I have decided, in my capacity as Boy George’s manager, that he will no longer be appearing in Jesus Christ Superstar at the London Palladium,” wrote Paul Kemsley. “The decision has been made with the utmost respect for the producers, the creative team and the entire company. We are grateful for the professionalism and understanding they have shown throughout and sincerely wish everyone involved every success with the production.”

On Friday, the singer posted on X that he was receiving calls with the advice to “pipe down,” but he said, “It’s not an option.”

Since the October 2023 attack on Israel by Hamas and the military response by Israeli forces, several celebrities have spoken out on the bloodshed in Gaza, including musicians Billie Eilish and her brother, Finneas, and the Weekend along with actors Pedro Pascal, Susan Sarandon and Mark Ruffalo, among others.

Kemsley continued that he has “always respected” Boy George for standing by his “personal convictions” but that, as his manager, he feels the responsibility to make decisions “that are in the best interests of my artist while also showing respect to others.”

“In this instance, I felt it was right to step aside, allowing the production to remain the focus, while ensuring everyone involved can move forward with mutual respect and goodwill.”

A representative for the producers of “Jesus Christ Superstar” did not immediately respond to The Times’ request for comment.

Kavinsky, the French electronic musician and DJ whose moody single “Nightcall” scored the hit film “Drive,” has died. He was 50.

French newspaper Le Figaro and TV station BFM reported that Kavinsky, born Vincent ‌Belorgey, died from a suspected stroke. Paris prosecutors investigated and found “no suspicious elements,” they said.

Kavinsky was a defining act of the Paris electronic scene of the 2000s and 2010s, whose neon-smeared synths and noirish atmospheres lent themselves to L.A. freeways and Montmartre nightclubs alike.

Adopting a droll persona — a red-eyed electronic producer who returned from the dead after a Ferrari crash — Kavinsky was a major figure in the second wave of the “French touch” dance scene.

His popular breakthrough came with “Nightcall,” a collaboration with CSS’ Lovefoxxx and Daft Punk’s Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo. The song was a propulsive theme of Nicolas Winding Refn’s 2011 film “Drive,” a brutal and romantic revenge thriller beloved for its slinky, retro-futuristic soundtrack. Kavinsky performed the song to close out the 2024 Paris Olympics, performing with the French band Phoenix and the Belgian singer Angèle.

While he only released two studio LPs, including the 2013 singles collection “OutRun” and “Reborn” in 2022, he was influential to major acts that came after him. The Weeknd, who sang on an edit of Kavinsky’s “Odd Look,” wrote on X: “So heartbreaking to hear the news. An inspiration to so many, including myself. I will continue to honor your name and your music. Rest easy Kavinsky.”

French President Emmanuel Macron also wrote a tribute on Instagram, calling Kavinsky an artist France could be proud of forever.

Three days ago, Chargers quarterback Justin Herbert commented on a sexy selfie that pop singer Madison Beer posted on Instagram: “That’s my girlfriend!!”

On Tuesday morning, Beer posted several photos of the two of them together, along with a caption that provided a significant relationship status update.

“Meet my fiancé,” Beer wrote, much to the delight of the 1.5 million people who liked the post within the first hour.

The engagement announcement comes not quite a year after speculation started about a possible romantic link between the two. Last August, Herbert was photographed interacting with Beer on the set of the video shoot for her song “Angel Wings” at a house in Hancock Park.

The New York Post reported that Beer was seen introducing Herbert to crew members and that the two left the set together. They were spotted together multiple times soon afterward, including holding hands in Los Angeles the day after the Chargers’ seasonopener in Brazil last September.

They shared what is thought to be their first public kiss Oct. 5 on the SoFi Stadium sideline before the Chargers played the Washington Commanders. Since going public with their relationship, the 27-year-old singer and 28-year-old quarterback have been seen at Game 3 of the World Series at Dodger Stadium and sitting courtside at Lakers games at Crypto.com Arena.

In April, Herbert posted a photo of them on Instagram and captioned it, “My world!” Also this spring, he co-starred with Beer in the music video for her song “lovergirl” and received Chargers coach Jim Harbaugh’s blessing to miss portions of voluntary team workouts to join Beer on her world tour.

Beer’s post announcing the engagement features several photos of the couple, including one of Herbert down on one knee and another of him carrying his smiling bride-to-be over his shoulder with her ring on display. They each also posted one of the photos on their Instagram Story with Perry Como’s “And I Love You So” as background music.

No information on the upcoming wedding has been released.

Herbert was selected sixth overall by the Chargers in the 2020 draft. A two-time Pro Bowl selection, he has gone 52-43 as a starter and has passed for 24,820 yards with 163 touchdowns and 58 interceptions.

Beer has been nominated for two Grammy Awards — best immersive audio album for “Silence Between Songs” in 2024 and best dance pop recording for “make you mine” in 2025. Her third studio album, “locket,” was released earlier this year.

Emmy-nominated composer Bear McCreary has taken a reverse road to symphonic rock. Prog rockers have traditionally integrated symphonic elements; other rock bands have done orchestral versions of their songs. McCreary began creating television and film scores, discovered his inner metalhead, and has since bridged those worlds with his “Singularity” project. It all adds up to a different take on that time-honored formula.

The second of the two albums, “The Singularity: Ekleipsis,” is out Friday and features contributions from guitarist Steve Vai, Coheed and Cambria frontman Claudio Sanchez, Fall Out Boy frontman Patrick Stump and McCreary’s younger brother Brendan, who sings on half the tracks. The multifaceted album feels like “I am Bear, hear me roar.”

“I love that quote,” he says, laughing, during his two-hour interview with The Times. “I want to put that on the posters. I feel like ‘The Singularity’ is a temper tantrum of a record from someone who had been writing music for other people for 20 years, then all these ideas exploded out.” Two years after the release of the first “Singularity” album, “Ekleipsis” feels more focused and personal to him.

From Anthrax dinners to sessions with Slash, Stewart Copeland and Bulgarian choirs, McCreary’s restless curiosity drives genre-bending songs that wrestle with identity, diaspora and the world listeners are trying to survive.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

The first “Singularity” double album — which featured guests like Serj Tankian, Corey Taylor, Rufus Wainwright and Joe Satriani — tied into a graphic novel about a man who repeatedly experiences loss and death at the hands of a villainous character in his every life across their multiverse. This leads to a major revelation at the end. Although McCreary says that “Ekleipsis” is not disconnected from that universe, it is not strictly tied to a narrative.

“I wasn’t setting out to write a concept album again,” McCreary admits, “but there’s something immediate in all the lyrics. Half of them are specifically talking about the world that we all find ourselves living in and trying to overcome in some way.”

McCreary’s sonic diversity continues with “Ekleipsis.” Gojira frontman Joe Duplantier collaborated with the McCreary brothers and the Mystery of the Bulgarian Voices choir on “Black Box” to create a work of dissonant majesty. The composer improvised his way through the initial stages of “Pray for a Storm,” his high-energy collaboration with famed drummer Stewart Copeland.

“Let’s all go into your studio with nothing,” McCreary recalls telling the irrepressible percussionist. “I’m not even going to bring an idea. We’ll plug in our instruments, set the mics up and play. I want to capture your ideas and your energy, then shape it into a song based on the pieces that I get.”

McCreary sees new endeavors as a learning experience. He meets his collaborators in the way they like to work. He was awed while writing with Guns N’ Roses bassist Duff McKagan and Red Hot Chili Peppers drummer Chad Smith on the anthemic “Cool Kids.”

“Those guys are true songsmiths,” the composer declares. “I think they’re unrecognized as songwriters. They wrote for Ozzy Osbourne. They’re focused on hammering down a riff until it works. We walked into a studio with a riff that Duff had written and walked out with this song that we brought Slash onto. We got that band experience [with them].”

McCreary is best known for scoring series like “Battlestar Galactica,” “The Walking Dead” and “The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power,” along with movies such as “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” and the “God of War” video game franchise. He gained entry into metal through a dinner with Anthrax guitarist and “Battlestar” fan Scott Ian two decades ago.

“‘I know you. You’re a guy who loves Sepultura,’” Ian told him, invoking a musical link for the composer. Intrigued, McCreary listened to Sepultura’s folk-infused Brazilian death metal and loved it. His metal journey began.

Ever since, McCreary has been itching to dive into that arena. He has an important collaborator in that quest.

“My brother’s my secret weapon when it comes to rock,” McCreary says. “His body of [rock] knowledge makes up for mine. Our emphasis is in a different place. He is a fantastic producer because he’s got a really good radar for when things are useless, when a part of a song isn’t pulling its weight. It’s a very good influence to have someone like that. He’s got a great lyrical sense and an incredible voice.”

McCreary says Brendan is often the driving force of their lyrical efforts, and “sometimes we co-write with other people. Claudio Sanchez wrote all the lyrics on ‘Sweet Misery.’ It just depends.”

The younger McCreary was the propelling wordsmith on “One Fine Day.” “It’s about our experience as being in the Armenian diaspora and exploring what that means to us,” McCreary elaborates. “All the songs are very personal, which is another thing that sets this record apart from the last record. Many of them were personal, but I also had a weird song about an automaton that fell in love.”

Mentored at USC by Elmer Bernstein, McCreary now leaps from “God of War” themes to a Higgs boson rock musical and a roaring Singularity tour that hits L.A. on Sept. 17.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Before he jammed with rock icons, McCreary was mentored by the late, iconic Elmer Bernstein for nearly the last decade of his life. The burgeoning young composer organized Bernstein’s music archives, sat in on recording sessions and audited his senior-level classes for three years while studying at the Thornton School of Music at USC. McCreary says that Bernstein “really set me on the path that I am now on, not because I learned how to orchestrate or how to write music from him. But he showed me the life that I could envision myself having when I was 15 or 16, that crucial time when you’re really setting the rudder for where you’re going to go in life.”

That rudder has steered him to many shores. McCreary has been co-writing the musical “Particle Fever” with Zoe Sarnak (“Galileo).” Pulitzer Prize finalist and Tony winner David Henry Hwang (“M. Butterfly)” wrote the book, and Tony nominee Leigh Silverman (“Suffs”) is its director. It is based on the documentary of the same name about the discovery of the Higgs boson — the “God particle” — at the Large Hadron Collider in CERN. It will debut at the La Jolla Playhouse in February 2027.

“It is a really kick-ass, earnest rock musical about a really ambitious discovery,” McCreary says. “My hope is that it actually has some of the swagger and fun that people found in ‘Hamilton,’ which also was a very dry subject that you learned about in eighth grade.”

The 47-year-old composer exudes an infectiously upbeat energy. He loves challenges and says he learned that charisma and charm are valuable assets to get in the door to prove one’s talents.

“I’m wired to be very positive and collaborative,” he concedes. “But I got so oppressively excited in my 20s that I started annoying people. My lesson was walk it back.”

His creative energy continues unabated. He’s even scored shorts for filmmakers he met through Twitter. (“I’m down to work.”) He has been blogging about his musical life for 20 years for a core group of followers. (“In hindsight, if Jerry Goldsmith had done that in the ‘80s, my God, my life would be different.”)

McCreary started as a high school keyboardist, then found the accordion in college, an instrument that gave him greater stage motion and which he later used to great effect in his music for the “Outlander” series. He loves to headbang while playing the hurdy-gurdy, an instrument he picked up in 2010 and later employed in the “Black Sails” show and “God of War: Ragnarok” video game. He learned guitar to play rhythm during his 2025 shows.

Those riffs will be on display at the Wacken Open Air festival on Friday and during McCreary’s eight-date September “Singularity” tour of the West Coast that hits L.A. on Sept. 17. McCreary has performed his symphonic scores in Europe and America with orchestras, but now he also loves to rock out (loud).

A big secret of the ambitious McCreary’s success harks back to lessons of simplicity that Bernstein taught him.

“The giant theme that I wrote for ‘God of War’ can be played with one finger on a piano,” McCreary reveals. “That is the thing that it boils down to, and that is what I listen for in music. Most of the time it means there’s a melody in there that sticks with you, and it doesn’t matter how well it is produced or how epic it is or how loud it is. A good song is a good song is a good song, and it really doesn’t matter how good a band performs. If the song is good, it will connect with people.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a mindset that has served them well.

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

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

(Carlin Stiehl/For De Los)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Carlin Stiehl/For De Los)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Singer-songwriter Anaïs Mitchell first wrote the numbers for “Hadestown,” a folk musical based on Greek mythology, in 2006. Twenty years later, the Tony-winning smash musical comes to the big screen in a version filmed on the West End in 2025, directed by Brett Sullivan. The production reunites the original Broadway cast — André De Shields, Patrick Page, Reeve Carney, Eva Noblezada and Amber Gray — six years after the show debuted and swept the Tonys in 2019.

There is a timelessness to Mitchell’s work, thanks in large part to the ancient source material, the myths of Orpheus, Eurydice, Hades and Persephone. Developed in partnership with Rachel Chavkin, who directed the Broadway show, the action is set around the 1930s in the American Deep South. The story expresses evergreen themes of love, sacrifice, oppression, addiction and devotion, juxtaposing the tragedy of the way things are against a hope of the way they could be.

There are moments when Mitchell’s songs feel eerily prescient: The show’s villain, Hades (Page), rules the underworld of Hadestown as a fascistic industrialist; his Act I closing number is titled “Why We Build the Wall.” Factory workers sing back to him, “We build the wall to keep us free,” a chorus that foretells the Trumpian rhetoric of 2016 and a reminder that these patterns of division and otherization are the eternal tools of the oppressor.

“Hadestown” is a love story first and foremost, set in a joyous juke joint, the band ringing the stage. The camera follows our narrator, Hermes, played by American theater legend De Shields, as he takes the stage, kissing the heads of his company.

But the show doesn’t start until the 79-year-old De Shields nattily flips his jacket open, to the approving roar of the audience. He introduces doomed Orpheus (Carney), “touched by the Gods themselves,” a born yearner with a gift for song. When Eurydice (Noblezada), a scrappy, skeptical slip of a girl, rolls into town, Orpheus instantly falls head over heels. They have nothing except each other, their love symbolized by a red flower that Orpheus offers.

Party girl Persephone (Gray) brings the summer fun, but her jealous lover Hades wants to keep her all to himself in his domain, trapping the world in a long winter. Orpheus promises to write a song to summon spring again, but a struggling Eurydice is seduced by Hades’ promises of security in Hadestown, and she descends with him, signing her life away to work in his factory. Orpheus tries to rescue his love, but his faith in her is tested on their return to the top — if he turns back to see if she’s there, she’ll be banished to Hadestown forever.

Real-life couple Carney and Noblezada married several months after this production; they met at Noblezada’s audition. Their chemistry makes the emotional devastation of this tragedy that much more real: Every main actor sheds a real tear over the course of the show. Carney’s unique tenor ranges from Jeff Buckley to Freddie Mercury; his rock background and skill with the guitar is required for Orpheus’ lyre-playing and lends to the folk roots of Mitchell’s songs.

Cinematographer Clayton Jacobsen captures unexpected camera angles that a theatergoer wouldn’t get (even one with decent seats), both from down below in the circular pit and above it. He sends the camera soaring over the heads of the audience into intimate medium shots. Sullivan makes the animated and often rowdy crowd an integral part of the cinematic experience, including an extended curtain call with De Shields toasting the audience, sending them out with the warmth with which he brought them in.

There is such a temporal quality to theater, a shared moment in time and space. This production feels like a fleeting moment — a reunion of friends and collaborators retelling a myth that is recounted over and over again. “It’s a sad song, but we sing it anyway,” Hermes reminds us, and it’s a sentiment worth repeating. There may be tragedy, but the summer will inevitably return.

Pat McAfee knows just what the world needs in 2026.

More Pat McAfee.

The former Indianapolis Colts punter and kicker already is seemingly everywhere — as the host of his own show every weekday on ESPN, as an analyst on “College GameDay” and guest on a number of other shows on the network, as a commentator/participant with WWE until earlier this year, as host of multiple podcasts, etc.

McAfee has not, however, released an album full of songs written and sung entirely by the two-time Pro Bowl selection himself.

That situation will be rectified in a matter of weeks.

McAfee announced Wednesday that he would be dropping his debut record, “The Diary of a Polarizing Figure,” on Aug. 14, a musical collaboration with country singer-songwriter Ernest.

“For as long as I can remember my mere existence has made people hate my guts,” McAfee wrote in an X post announcing the project. “I’ve been writing songs about it for 20yrs & it’s time to let them aht.. A LOT of headlines & narratives.. if I was to die, I’d like my kids to know exactly who their dad is.”

Although McAfee definitely has his detractors, it’s interesting that he’s putting out an album focusing on the haters, considering his current popularity is such that he is reportedly in talks for a contract extension with ESPN that would pay him more than $60 million a year.

Some online commenters have criticized McAfee for the timing of his announcement, which comes a day after a number of his ESPN colleagues were laid off by Walt Disney Co. McAfee reposted one such complaint on X and commented simply, “The Diary of a Polarizing Figure, August 14th, 2026.”

He said Wednesday on “The Pat McAfee Show”: “A lot of things are being said about me at this exact moment. [People] are going to hear my responses through these songs because these types of situations have been happening to me throughout my entire life. … Literally since elementary school I’ve had people that just don’t like me because I’m too loud and everything like that.”

In December, McAfee released a country-rock single called “Dookie,” also a musical collaboration with Ernest. A news release at the time stated that the single marked “a new partnership between McAfee and DeVille Records / Big Loud Records.”

Ernest told Whiskey Riff early this year that he and McAfee had recorded eight or nine songs together.

“Any EA Sports game should have a Pat McAfee song on it,” Ernest said in describing the former West Virginia standout’s musical style. “It’s locker room hype s—.”

Many athletes have attempted musical careers, with varying degrees of critical and commercial success. It would seem far fewer sports broadcasters have tried the same crossover, with John Tesh probably being the best-known example after his stint covering athletic events for CBS and NBC in the mid-1980s.

If he wants advice from a peer, perhaps McAfee might seek it from Terry Bradshaw, the four-time Super Bowl champion and longtime NFL analyst who also has released a number of country/gospel albums and even had a top 10 country hit with a cover of “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” in the 1970s.

McAfee said on his show that he “wrote this entire thing over the last 20 years or so in the notes section” of his phone.

“A lot of very personal stuff in here,” he said. “Finding my singing voice has been fun. That has been a blast. Then [to] all the incredible people in Nashville who have assisted and kind of helped me piece all this together, I’m so grateful and thankful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Share via Close extra sharing options

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

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

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

(Evelyn Freja / For The Times)

A hit with Hollywood roots

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘The Middle’ meets the moment

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Scott Gries / Getty Images)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Evelyn Freja / For The Times)

Here we are now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Dick Slaughter)

Saturday

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

(Dick Slaughter)

The Fadeaways stand out early

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

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

(Dick Slaughter)

Snooper and its puppeteers of chaos

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

The Spits performing on the Amphitheater Stage at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

The Spits went full throttle

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

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

(Dick Slaughter)

Mannequin Pussy end with a loud bark

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

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

(Dick Slaughter)

Otoboke Beaver’s fury lights a fire

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

Iggy Pop headlining Saturday night at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

Iggy Pop’s eternal lust for life

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

A crowd surfer at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

Sunday

Peaches Christ performing on the Field Stage at Mosswood Meltdown.

(Dick Slaughter)

Peaches Christ sings with punk pride

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

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

(Dick Slaughter)

Frankie and the Witchfingers leaves the crowd spellbound

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

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

(Dick Slaughter)

The Return of Jackie and Judy revive the Ramones

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

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

(Dick Slaughter)

Bikini Kill passes the torch

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

When you walk into a room with Los Primos del Este, the happy-go-lucky guys immediately make you feel like part of the family. What they first cultivate with silly banter and lighthearted ad-libs eases into a more vulnerable, introspective atmosphere, comparable to a cathartic therapy session.

When I met the norteño-sax band in at Interscope Records — the major label that signed them in early 2023 — it was just a couple of hours before the official release of Los Primos’ new album, “Dulce Amargo,” on Thursday.

For a young band of players in their early 20s, they play it cool; “Dulce Amargo” is their eighth LP to date. The project feels thoroughly chiseled to their refined sonic tastes (influenced by Julión Álvarez, Legado 7 and Remmy Valenzuela) inflected with raw, sentimental lyricism and a wailing saxophone that commands each track with the spirit of an electric guitar.

“Play it back to back and actually start understanding the sound more and realize there’s new sounds being created,” said lead vocalist Geovanni Flores. “Because a lot of people get stuck in their old ways.”

Made up of five members — Flores, bassist and supporting vocalist Ariel Jesus Lopez, accordionist Juan Luis Hernandez, drummer Alejandro Tellez and saxophonist David Tellez — the group has built a steady momentum in the música mexicana genre. They’ve championed the resurgence of norteño-sax, a subgenre that fuses the accordion sounds of norteño music with an invigorating alto saxophone, made popular by legendary groups like Conjunto Primavera.

Since forming in 2017, the North Carolina-based band has gained over 2 million listeners on Spotify through catchy norteño-sax songs like “No Es Mentira (Version Norteña),” “Poema” and “Mami” — drawn together by a polka-like beat that has made them a staple of Mexican dance venues.

In 2024 alone, the subgenre grew by 39% in both the U.S. and Mexico, per Spotify.

Los Primos del Este formed in 2017 out of North Carolina.

(Arwen Clemans / Los Angeles Times)

The band took a few years to find its groove. Its 2020 debut album, “PDE,” experimented more with the prickly, sad sierreño sound popularized by acts like Eslabon Armado and DannyLux — as well as trap-infused corridos tumbados with a thumping tololoche. Still, this was music one could bop their head to, even if dance parties were limited during the global pandemic. With norteño-sax, the group could incorporate contemporary dating themes into songs that bring people physically closer to one another on the dance floor.

“There’s been a sense of maturity that’s happened within the group. In the past, we would just make music to make music and release it,” said Flores. “ We thought about every single detail now, even down to the album cover.”

Before getting into the thick of their recent music catalog, Los Primos del Este quickly unfurled details of the album cover, which shows the group sprawled across the flatbed of a white truck. The image was inspired by Alejandro Cartagena, a Dominican Republic-born Mexican creative who photographed carpooling laborers on the flatbeds along a highway in Monterrey, Mexico, in 2012. The project was a visual representation of how everyday people — often marginalized individuals — navigate transit in a sprawling suburban area.

Such an open stance on community issues appears to be a norteño-sax speciality. In 2000, their forefathers Conjunto Primavera previously told The Times that they make music for working-class audiences: “Wealthy people don’t like what we do.”

“Personally, I found myself in the bed of a truck at one point, low-income, trying to make something out of nothing,” said Lopez. “That’s the world I grew up in, and that’s the world I wanna show everybody. It’s not all sweet, you know?”

The band also nods to injustices faced by immigrant communities — including the recent fatal shootings of 52-year-old Lorenzo Salgado Araujo and 26-year-old Johan Sebastian Duran Guerrero by Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents in Texas and Maine, respectively.

“We’re willing to take the heat,” said Lopez, referring to the band’s pro-immigrant stance. “The community looks at us as a negative presence, but in reality, we’re hard-working, dedicated family people.”

It is both that honesty and vulnerability that are etched into the 14-track LP “Dulce Amargo,” which translates to “bittersweet” in English. The band shared that each member contributed details of his own personal experience to the brainstorming sessions — a process they likened to therapy.

“We were comfortable enough with each other to let [our] stories be heard,” said Lopez. “In the Latino community, there is kinda like that stereotype [that] you have to be strong.  I think this message goes out to everybody — if you’re feeling something, specifically the men, it’s OK to just let it out.”

(Arwen Clemans/Los Angeles Times)

The hazy love melody “Tremenda,” for example, underscores an intense yearning for connection. Written after Lopez was starstruck by a woman, its first lyrics begin in wondrous marvel: “Tal vez fue tu mirada,” or, “Perhaps it was your gaze.”

“What’s the first thing you do when you look at somebody? I look at the eyes,” said Lopez. “They say the eyes are the doors to the soul.”

Alejandro Tellez’s contribution came with the punchy “Linda Sonrisa,” that pleads for someone to realize the realities of the mistreatment they’re facing with another lover.

“How many times are you gonna let him do you wrong until you realize that you have the right guy in front of you?” said Alejandro Tellez in a sing-song twang. “That’s a story that I went through in high school.”

For Flores, the EDM-fused, echoing melody “Mejor Sin Ti,” struck a personal chord; could a relationship be the only thing standing in your way to personal success? “Some people do hold you back, some people tie you down — that’s what I felt,” said Flores.

Hernandez gets a bit teary-eyed when talking about his favorite song, “Sentimientos,” a whirling polka-driven ballad about an avoidant situationship, he said. “To me, it’s like we both kinda love each other already, but we’re kind of afraid to say it,” he explained. “A lot of people are afraid of falling in love again, so that song hits close to home.”

The concept behind “Mereces Mejor,” a trance-inducing ode with floating melodies that implores a loved one to recognize their self-worth, was inspired by David Tellez’s own experience with unrequited love: “She’s trying to go to the bad guy, and I’m over here giving everything I got.”

As the five artists prepare to take their new album on the road — including an upcoming performance at the Lone Star State’s Truck Show Texas Fest on July 25 — they want to make clear that norteño-sax is not a stagnant subgenre. Like most of música mexicana, it, too, is evolving, both in sound and lyricism, encapsulating today’s complex dating culture. Their emotional vulnerability is welcome in a field flooded with artists that may otherwise shrink away from such honesty — perhaps due to the stigma of mental health issues in the Latino community, especially among men.

“We understand that changing the sound may not be for everybody, but we’re making music for the next generation,” said Lopez. “Who knows? Maybe their parents might end up liking this too.”