song

Ozzy Osbourne was rock ‘n’ roll’s Prince of Darkness — and also a much-beloved bumbling reality show dad. Inventive bassist Geezer Butler put words into Ozzy’s mouth as Black Sabbath’s main lyricist, his muscular playing anchoring the quartet’s rhythm section alongside drummer Bill Ward.

But it’s guitarist Tony Iommi whose iconic riffs built the Sabbath sound. The hugely influential aural architect found his signature style after a horrific accident at a sheet-metal plant when he was just 17. The teen was about to quit the factory, but on his last day, the tips of his middle and ring fingers of his right hand were sliced off in a piece of machinery. As a left-hander, Iommi used his right for fretting, and for creating a song’s mood and melody.

From the ominous timbre of the first song in their 1970 debut LP, “Black Sabbath,” to legendary cuts including “N.I.B.,” “Paranoid” and “Iron Man,” Iommi’s self-made fingertip “thimbles” and adaptive way of playing created unforgettable and hugely influential riffs. The guitarist’s instantly recognizable style and tone are as vital and memorable more than 50 years later on his new solo album, “From the Dark.”

Via phone from his home in the Cotswolds, England, a day before the London premiere of the concert documentary film “Ozzy & Black Sabbath: Back to the Beginning,” Iommi is humble, low-key and congenial. While he’s excited about “From the Dark,” he’s still stunned by the 2025 loss of his longtime friend and bandmate Osbourne.

He speaks with slight trepidation about his upcoming viewing of the concert documentary, which chronicles Osbourne’s final live performance and Sabbath reunion.

Tony Iommi’s amputated fingertips could have ended his guitar career. Instead, homemade thimbles and a new playing style helped create Black Sabbath’s defining, generations-shaping riffs.

(Ross Halfin)

“It’s weird for me,” Iommi says. “In my own heart, I don’t particularly really want to see it because it brings back so many memories with Oz of course. For me, on that last gig, seeing him not being able to move wasn’t particularly the way I’d seen him — all the years he’s been running around the stage. That’s how I know him, and then to see him sitting down on a throne…”

However, for most of the four-song final performance, which saw Sabbath reuniting with drummer Ward for the first time in more than two decades, Osbourne was not in the guitarist’s sights. “I stood at the back because Bill wanted me to stand by him. We hadn’t played live with Bill for 20 years, so Bill said, ‘Would you stand by me, if I forget anything or miss anything?’ I don’t know what I could have done, but I did do that,” Iommi says.

“[The event] was a very strange experience. It’s great for all the other bands who came to the show and supported Sabbath. That was fantastic, and they were all really nice and no egos. It was a great setup, and I was really proud of everybody coming along to be involved in it and tip their hat towards us. It was lovely, of course, for the fans.”

In rehearsal, while Osbourne was joking around, “you could see he was in pain,” recalls Iommi. “Basically, he was carried in, and we were all shocked. We just didn’t know what to say. It was a strange, strange feeling.”

When the singer died only 17 days after the concert, even his bandmates were shocked by the suddenness. “I spoke to him the night before he passed, and he said to me, ‘Oh, God, I’ve been really tired, I feel really tired. I can’t stay awake. I’m exhausted.’ I said to him, ‘You’re bound to feel it.” We’ve been rehearsing the show, it’s been a bit stressful. We’ve had a lot of things to do.’ Ozzy said, ‘But I just can’t.” I just feel tired.’ And of course, the next day he’d gone. Really, it was such a shock.”

At 78, the Birmingham-born guitarist is releasing From the Dark, a solo album built around his signature heavy sound and a new lineup of collaborators.

(Ross Halfin)

At that time, Iommi had the seeds of the songs that would become “From the Dark.” It began with a scent: “I did a couple of instrumental tracks for a perfume [ad campaign]. Then I thought, ‘I’ll start writing some instrumentals for an album,’ and I did three or four. Then I changed my mind and thought, ‘I want to do one with a vocalist.’ ”

If Tony Iommi were a perfume, he’d smell like cinnamon, patchouli and leather. In fact, he is one, with three unisex fragrances by Italian luxury brand Xerjoff under his name. One — with notes of rum, bergamot and Ambergris, is called Monkey Special, named after his 1964 Gibson SG guitar. “It’s not a cheap perfume, I might say,” Iommi says. “In England, they stock it in Harrods and Selfridges. It’s been very successful and very different for me to do something like that.”

Following his perfumey instrumentals, the songwriter began collaborating with journeyman Norwegian vocalist Jørn Lande, bassist Becky Baldwin and drummer Karl Brazil, who has worked with pop icons Robbie Williams and James Blunt. The latter two hail from Iommi’s and Sabbath’s hometown, Birmingham, England.

“I met Jørn years ago when I was going to do another album, and it ended up with [former Deep Purple bassist/singer] Glenn Hughes on it. But I’d done a track with Jørn, and I liked the idea. But at the time, the record company wanted to use somebody a bit more known, so I did the album with Glenn.”

Lande ended up singing on a 2010 live show following the death of second Black Sabbath singer Ronnie James Dio, stepping into the frontman’s shoes for the band, which was then going by the name Heaven & Hell. “I was really pleased with what he’d done, and I always had it in mind to use him somewhere along the line, doing an album together, and that’s how it worked out.”

Born 78 years ago, in Birmingham — the town where Sabbath first formed and later performed its final show in 2025 — Iommi remains defined by his signature look. It is hard to imagine the guitar legend without his trademark black shirt, large silver cross, blue-tinted glasses and leather coat. His playing — down-tuning his guitar to lower the pitch for a menacing and heavier sound — may have morphed very slightly over the years, but “I think you just do it naturally without even thinking about it. My writing ideas are still the same. I still come up with miserable stuff,” he says, chuckling. “I like to do riffs and whatnot, so I enjoy that.”

Tony Iommi with his band vocalist Jørn Lande (far right), bassist Becky Baldwin, and drummer Karl Brazil and producer Mike Exeter

(Tina Korhonen)

On “From the Dark,” lyrics are all Lande; Iommi has no interest in telling his own stories using words. Yet a new tune like “Beyond the Dead” seems as if it could be about Iommi’s 2011 diagnosis and treatment for early-stage non-Hodgkin lymphoma.

Not so, the guitarist affirms, while acknowledging that the lyrics could be read that way.

“It was about beyond the living, beyond the dead, and coming back. Really deep, but that’s good. I do love what he’s done. When somebody like Jørn comes in, as with Dio, they’d write their own lyrics, and I prefer that because they’re going to sing them,” Iommi explains. “It’s like somebody saying to me, ‘Play this and play that.’ I want to play what I feel and what’s coming from me.”

There was a time when Sabbath did take a slightly different approach to writing and recording, but it wasn’t at their own initiative. In 2001, the band recorded “13,” Sabbath’s 19th and final studio album. It was the first studio record with Osbourne since 1978’s “Never Say Die,” and producer Rick Rubin was on board for the reunion.

What did Iommi learn from Rubin?

“I learned not to use a producer again,” he quipped. “It was strange because Rick wasn’t there most of the time. He’d be there for a certain recording, then he’d disappear. I’d written a lot of the stuff, and then we’d play it, and he go, ‘I don’t like that bit, I don’t like that part,’ and then disappear.

“One Friday he phoned me up — because he wouldn’t talk to the others [Osbourne, Butler]. He wanted me to relate what he’d said to the others. He said, ‘Could you write a song over the weekend that’s like “Planet Caravan,” so we can record it on Monday?’ I went, ‘What?!!’ But it happens that I did do it.” The end result was “Zeitgeist.”

Iommi is still processing Ozzy Osbourne’s death, just 17 days after Black Sabbath’s final performance, and says watching the concert film will bring back painful memories.

(Ross Halfin)

Iommi’s key plans for his new lineup and record were to make sure the players brought a healthy dose of enthusiasm. Baldwin is the first female he’s been in a band with. Iommi has a comfort zone, so he’d originally wanted Butler on the new album, which didn’t work out logistically. “Becky happened to be a big fan of Geezer, so we got Becky over to my home studio, and I did throw her in the deep end a bit,” admits Iommi. “I gave her the first track, which was ‘World Alone.’ I said, ‘Play that.’ She listened to it a bit and started playing it. It was really good. I just wanted to see what she’d be like straight away, just to see what she came up with, which was a bit horrible of me, I suppose.

“She worked out really good. The other thing is enthusiasm,” he continued. “I wanted people involved in this that really love what they do and really enjoy playing, and she constantly wants to play and be involved in the music, and it’s a great attitude.”

Another Brit superstar who also opts to play with relatively unknown, ardent players is Zeppelin’s Robert Plant. “He’s the same,” Iommi acknowledges. “We spoke about this, myself and Planty, because obviously we’ve known each other a long time. He could have easily done Zeppelin, but he wanted to do what he wanted to do.”

What a collaboration Iommi and Plant would be.

“I did say to him one time about doing something together, but again, he got his own thing, and I did [too]. Who knows? We’ve talked about it a couple of times, but he’s into a certain flavor of music that he likes to play, which is different to what I play, really. I don’t discard anything that way. If something comes up that’s a good idea and somebody’s into it, then I’m going to have a go.”

It’s been 26 years since Iommi’s debut, a self-titled solo album with a roster of guest vocalists including Osbourne, Dave Grohl, Henry Rollins and Pantera’s Philip Anselmo. “How fast it goes,” Iommi says with a chuckle. “Twenty-one years ago was my last solo album. And that’s long enough, isn’t it? But I was just busy with the Sabbath thing and then other things, including the Sabbath ballet.”

While fans would adore a tour, Iommi says he’d only do the occasional “one-off.” He will allow a moment of supposition, if pressed. “I suppose if I did something like that, I’d probably do some Dio stuff and maybe [one-time Sabbath vocalist] Tony Martin and maybe ‘Paranoid,’ ‘Iron Man.’ I haven’t really thought about it. Again, it’s not Sabbath,” he concludes. “It would be an Iommi thing, but it is part of my background. So I suppose I would play some of the old ones.”

ROBBIE WILLIAMS has come under fire after he ‘threw shade’ at popstar Olivia Rodrigo. 

The singer, 52, received backlash from fans who branded him as ‘pathetic’, following the online buzz from his hit track being compared to her new Christmas song.

Olivia, 23, sent fans into a frenzy after releasing a brand new Christmas track titled Take Me Home 4 Christmas.

The single was written by the star herself and is her first holiday song ever.

Alongside it she posted a music video inspired by The Family Stone featuring Cynthia Nixon and Ben Marshall. 

The track has been a big hit with fans with the video sitting at over three million views online. 

READ MORE ON ROBBIE WILLIAMS

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But some listeners have now compared the song to the hit Robbie Williams single Candy. 

There have been many videos uploaded of the tracks overlapping to what some people think are similar notes and melodies. 

The videos caught the attention of Robbie himself who has taken to X to have his say on the discourse. 

In a post he simply wrote: “Happy Christmas @oliviarodrigo x”

Fans rushed to the comments convinced the Angels hitmaker was throwing shade at Olivia. 

One user commented: “You’re grown a** man shading a 23yo on twitter, aren’t you pathetic.”

Another added: “No shade because I love candy, but I doubt Olivia has ever even heard it?”

“You didn’t have to step so low. Shading a 23 years old girl is embarrassing as hell,” penned a third. 

Others agreed that the song was in fact copied, with one fan commenting: “Could be a great Christmas for you Rob, get those copyright lawyers on speed dial! 

“I love you @robbiewilliams !! Ask for sampling rights,” said another.

“How’s this shade ? am I missing something,”replied a third.

AFTER donating his kidney to his pop star brother, Chris Bourne has opened up about the healing process – revealing he used music as therapy.

Busted rocker James and Chris are both now recovering from their operations, which took place on October 3.

On his song Selfless, which Chris produced with his best friend James Ennis and released to raise money for mental-health charity Mind, he told me: “Songwriting is like therapy.

“You’re thinking about a situation and you’re conceptualising it and you’re going through all these things, how you feel about it, and you’re filtering out all of it.

“At the end of it, kind of whatever’s on the paper [ends up] in the song.”

Chris stepped in for James during Busted’s joint tour with McFly in 2025 after the guitarist became too unwell.

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Selfless, which was originally a poem by Chris about coming to terms with being a donor, is already a hit with James.

Laughing, Chris said: “For the first time he asked me to play him a song again. He was like, ‘Wow, you actually wrote a good song’.

“I totally trust and respect everything he says about music. And it was weird with this stuff because I’d never written such a personal song.”

Chris said he is looking foward to when he and his brother are fully recovered, and hopes to one day join James on stage.

He revealed: “If Busted felt like they would need an extra guitar player, I would definitely be there. It would be a dream experience.”

LILY’S GOTH HER SPARK BACK

LILY JAMES is black in business after stepping out of the acting world because of burnout.

After starring in a string of blockbusters including Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, Cinderella and Pride And Prejudice she was left her feeling flat.

Lily said: I’ve worked consistently since I was 21, and I was beginning to feel so burned out. I was scared I was losing the joy.

“You have to recharge. Going from one job to the next, not only was I feeling like I wasn’t recharging or finding new sources of inspiration, but also blink, and you’ve missed a year.”

Lily is back at it now, though, and attended meetings in New York in this gothic-inspired outfit.

Her next project is Cliffhanger – a remake of the 1993 action film starring Sylvester Stallone – slated for release next year. Welcome back, Lily.

BIG CITY JITTERS FOR FAYE

FAYE WINTER says life in the big smoke after the Love Island villa triggered panic attacks and left her too scared to use the Tube.

The Devon-born reality star and then boyfriend Teddy Soares lived on the outskirts of London after meeting on the dating show in 2021.

She said: “I came out and I was very lost. I really struggled with the London lifestyle. It used to keep me up at night. If I was going to London, I would be awake until, like, one, two in the morning.”

She added: “I was so terrified, it would give me anxiety, like I would have panic attacks. If somebody said I had to get the Tube, I wouldn’t.”

Now back in the countryside, Faye is backing calls for couples to sign “pre-pups” – a pet version of the pre-nup – after her split from Teddy in 2023 turned the spotlight on how she got custody of their beloved golden retriever Bonnie.

It comes after research by Compare The Market found nearly one in three couples clash over who keeps their pet after a break-up.

She said: “Nobody thinks about what will happen if your relationship does come to an end and who’s going to take full responsibility of the dog.

“As a nation of animal lovers, I honestly don’t believe that the law is there to protect them enough.

“People have children, they take priority over their pets, but that shouldn’t be the case.”

DJ JOEL CORRY has opened up about the perils of touring and strict self-care regime.

In an exclusive chat as he promotes Movember’s Why Did We Stop Hugging Our Friends? campaign, the Head & Heart producer said: “I’ve had to really adapt to the lifestyle of long-haul flights, late nights, jet lag.

“I’ve tackled it by keeping my routine on lock. So whenever I land in a different country, I get a workout in.

“It’s more of a mental-health benefit than physical. It keeps my mind clear and positive.”

LADY GAGA and Shakira lead the nominees for the 2027 Songwriters Hall of Fame.

The panel have until December 14 to cast their votes before the winners will be announced at next year’s Induction & Awards Gala in New York City.

I adore both Gaga and Shakira so I’d be over the moon if either comes out on top.

JESS LOCKS A PICTURE

AND the Oscar for the biggest transformation goes to . . . Jessica Chastain.

The Hollywood actress has lopped off her statement long, red hair and dyed it blonde.

It was a surefire way to get noticed on the red carpet as she promoted new Netflix film, Heartland, in New York on Thursday.

Jessica plays Misty Jones, a country music star searching in the underbelly in Nashville for her rising star niece, who has mysteriously vanished.

A lot like Jessica’s hair then. . . 

EM BEARS SOUL ON NEW TUNE

EMILY BEAR will perform new single God Forbid A Girl Gets Used To This on Later With Jools Holland tomorrow night.

In an exclusive chat before the BBC Two show, alongside Jamie T and Violet Grohl, Emily told me what inspired the track.

She said: “I’ve fallen in love recently. I usually need really sad things to happen to me to be able to write.

“We hear all these stories about how love makes you fearless, love conquers all.

“No one really talks about what happens when you finally experience that fateful feeling. Suddenly, there’s something you’re terrified to lose.

“This song lives somewhere in that fear, and in the vulnerability of letting yourself start to believe a good thing can just be a good thing.”

Walt Disney Co. is experimenting with using artificial intelligence to test out different concepts for music videos showcasing the lyrics to its songs, starting with “Go the Distance” from its 1997 animated movie, “Hercules.”

The effort is part of a deal with Bay Area AI startup OpenArt, which makes AI generated videos. Disney can input its songs into OpenArt’s platform, which will create a storyboard preview of a lyric video based on the song’s words, mood and emotional tone. Disney can make any changes during the process and fine-tune the video.

“They are very excited to bring some of the older catalogs of the music and create visual lyrics videos for those songs,” said OpenArt CEO Coco Mao, adding it’s “early exploration” for Disney to see how AI could potentially help with their creative workflow.

By working with OpenArt, “creative teams can iterate more freely, generating and evaluating multiple concepts in hours rather than weeks, enabling new fan experiences around Disney music between major releases,” Disney said in a blog post.

The commercial deal was announced as part of the Disney Accelerator Demo Day on Tuesday in Burbank. OpenArt was one of five companies in this year’s Accelerator program, which provides participants with investment capital and the opportunity to explore future collaborations with Disney leaders. This year, the entire cohort is made up of AI companies.

“We’re looking at how we can fit these companies into our existing workflows and help expedite that,” said David Min, vice president of innovation at the Walt Disney Co.

The experiment comes as Disney has challenged other AI companies over the use of its intellectual property. Disney and other studios have sued AI companies Midjourney and MiniMax, and in February, Disney sent a cease-and-desist letter to Chinese tech company ByteDance over its AI video generator Seedance 2.0.

OpenArt offers a platform that works with many different AI models, including Kling, Google Veo and Seedream. Businesses can select which AI models they wish to use for their videos. OpenArt also has a tool that helps flag potential intellectual property infringement.

Videos featuring the lyrics to Disney songs can be popular on social media and video platforms. For example, a lyric video posted six years ago featuring “Go the Distance” sung in different languages with a scene from “Hercules” generated 280,000 views on YouTube.

In general, making music videos has been a popular way that creators are using AI, as it can be more economical and allow them to test bold ideas without blowing the budget or going to multiple locations. Rather than a static image with music, a lyric video with different imagery can also help increase views on social media platforms.

“Before joining Open Art, I was in a rock band, so I was one of the artists that know the pain of not having enough money or time or resource to make lyrics videos or any kind of videos to promote your song on social media, so being able to be a part of building a tool that helps musicians and songs from big to small is very monumental,” said OpenArt executive Chloe Fang, who oversees entertainment and enterprise partnerships.

OpenArt was founded in 2022 by former Google engineers Mao and John Qiao. The company said it has nearly 100 employees and 17 million monthly active users.

Disney is considering different ways to incorporate AI into the company. For example, Disney Accelerator participant Irvine-based FieldAI is working with Disney on exploring whether robots can support parking or other operations within theme parks and San Francisco-based Physical Intelligence is looking at whether robotic systems can help with the handling and arranging of 3D glasses for cleaning between shows at Disney theme parks.

In September, Disney named Character.AI’s then-Chief Executive Karandeep Anand as its new chief technology officer. Last month, Character.AI filed for bankruptcy, and Disney offered $20 million to license some of the startup’s intellectual property. Other bidders can still top Disney’s offer.

Not all of Disney’s AI partnerships have worked out. Last year Disney announced a $1-billion investment in OpenAI and a licensing deal to bring Disney characters to OpenAI’s AI video generator Sora, but it fell apart months later after OpenAI decided to shut down Sora to focus its resources on other aspects of its business. The deal was never completed and no money changed hands.

I can’t tell you exactly what time Phoebe Bridgers started her concert Friday night or exactly what time it ended. I’m reluctant to say which of her band members was dressed as a crocodile since I can’t check my memory against a photo.

Most regretfully, I can’t report the precise words Bridgers used to describe her difficult relationship with her late father as she introduced her song “Still Standing” — though I can say her language so quieted the thousands of people inside Inglewood’s Intuit Dome that it almost felt like you could hear her thinking.

The first of three hometown shows on Bridgers’ Lost Tour, Friday’s gig was a phone-free experience: As you walked into the arena, you surrendered your device to a venue employee, who locked it in a fabric pouch that would put you beyond the reach of the digital world, including your clock and your camera and your voice recorder, until you walked back out.

In her lengthy preamble to “Still Standing” — it’s a chilling highlight from the singer’s latest album, “Lost Weekend,” about how abuse can shape ideas of love — Bridgers thanked her fans for going along with the no-phones policy, which she framed as a necessary condition for performing such intimate material.

Had phones been allowed, she added, this very moment “would have been a TikTok video with someone who doesn’t like my face commenting on it.” (A quote that sharp I could easily remember.)

Widely expected to land multiple nominations for February’s Grammy Awards, “Lost Weekend” — which in addition to Bridgers’ dad’s death addresses the flowering of her romantic relationship with the comedian Bo Burnham — complements all the emotional bloodletting with a biting sense of humor. Friday’s show opened, as the album does, with “The Outside,” which ushers the listener into her dad’s funeral this way: “Crying in a suit and tie / But you should see the other guy / One more time for old time’s sake / I’ll watch him get carried away.”

At Intuit, after she brought out Billie Eilish to join her for her song “Savior Complex” — guaranteed Instagram content in any other circumstance — Bridgers said, “You don’t have your phones,” then added a literal “ha-ha.”

It’s anyone’s guess whether Bridgers would’ve been able to muster the deep feelings she put across Friday if she hadn’t banned the handheld computers whose bluish glow has become a ubiquitous feature of the concert landscape. For all her vulnerability on “Lost Weekend,” she remains a pro who’s been performing since she was a teenager; my suspicion is that she probably would’ve found a way to get there.

What I know is that she did get there: Wearing a Peter Pan costume the night before Halloween, Bridgers sang folky ballads like “Kill Me” and “The Governor’s Waltz” with a tenderness that belied a pretty tough view of her experiences over the last few years; relatively rowdy rock songs like “Bobby” and “Lost Boys,” meanwhile, crackled with an energy bordering on the ecstatic.

The show took place across a pair of stages: one beneath an illuminated dome that resembled either a spaceship or an old-fashioned greenhouse, the other a smaller circle positioned near the middle of the arena floor. Bridgers and her musicians (who’d dressed up as Tinker Bell and John and other Pan-related characters) moved a couple of times between the two, which was about it as elaborate as the production got.

Beyond Eilish, Bridgers welcomed the indie-pop band Muna, which did its song “Silk Chiffon,” and her younger brother, Jackson, who sang a vocal part in “I Can’t Wait” performed on the new album by Geese’s Cameron Winter. At the beginning of “Lost Weekend’s” title track, Bridgers had to futz with her keyboard when it didn’t do what she wanted.

“Of course, this happens at home,” she said.

In the audience, the lack of phones provided for a level of attention you could practically feel, never less so than in “As Above,” which she did after “Still Standing” and for which she centered herself alone at the base of a cone of light.

“I thought about my mom driving herself to the hospital,” she sang, green felt hat perched on her head, daring us not to turn away.

For John and TJ Osborne, work and family have long been intertwined.

Today the siblings are known to country music fans as Brothers Osborne, the rock-leaning twosome that’s put 13 songs on Billboard’s Country Airplay chart and been named vocal duo of the year half a dozen times at the annual CMA Awards. Before they moved to Nashville, though, the brothers grew up helping out with their dad’s plumbing business in the late 1990s in the small fishing town of Deale, Md.

“You know how every country star opens a bar in Nashville?” John asks. “I was thinking it’d be funny to start a Brothers Osborne plumbing company that services all the bars.”

With TJ on lead vocals and John on lead guitar, the brothers look back at those early days in Deale on their nostalgic new album, “Watertown,” which came out last week, 10 years after the release of their first LP. It’s got handsome, well-drawn songs about long-lost loves and teenage indiscretions, not to mention one tune about some of the colorful Osbornes who don’t play in the band.

“We got a mama that you wouldn’t want to take home to mama,” TJ sings in “Family Business,” which rhymes that line with “Got a daddy with a girlfriend who loves marijuana” and “Sister took a swing at her first boy’s father.”

“I always tell people that TJ and I are the most boring people in our family,” John says. “Our sister really did punch her ex-husband in the face.”

TJ, 41, calls the album a tribute to the people who shaped him and his brother, who’s 44. “When you’re a kid, you want to run away from home and spread your wings,” the singer says. “Then at some point, it’s like that place is almost calling you back.”

That the Osbornes are at an age to memorialize the old days puts them on the outskirts, to some extent, of a country scene crowded with ascendant zoomers like Ella Langley, Tucker Wetmore and Megan Moroney. Yet the brothers are hardly fuddy-duddys: In 2021, TJ became the first country artist signed to a major label to come out as gay; musically, he and John consistently make unexpected stylistic choices — take the ringing new wave guitars in “Family Business” — even as they court down-the-middle success, as with the new album’s lead single, “Born and Raised Hell,” which features the country radio kingpin Cody Johnson.

“John and TJ don’t make corporate country music,” says Ashley McBryde, who’s collaborated repeatedly with the brothers. McBryde calls John “a guitar god” and says TJ’s deep voice “could make your kneecaps come unglued”; she adds that she likes to listen to their records “while I’m doing yard work, slinging a chainsaw.”

“Our mission the whole time has been: How do we thread the needle of doing something that’s a little left of center while making it commercial enough that people can hear it?” TJ says over coffee at an outdoor cafe in Griffith Park. The Osbornes are in town on a recent afternoon between tour dates; last night they did dinner at Nobu in West Hollywood — “bougie as f—,” John acknowledges — then “climbed up the La Cienega mountain,” as the guitarist puts it, back to their hotel on Sunset.

“The last 50 yards, I felt like I was gonna puke,” John says.

Does Nashville have good sushi?

“They do now,” John replies. “Back in the day, there was just this place Ken’s — kind of a hole in the wall where you’d get these huge styrofoam containers of rolls. It was really cheap, and we’d all get really stoned and eat tons of sushi.”

The brothers learned to play from their dad in Maryland in a family roots-music combo called Deuce and a Quarter; each went to Nashville to do his own thing but didn’t really gain any traction until they teamed up — a union they say their mother envisioned from the jump.

“I think the second TJ was born, she thought to herself: I have a country band on my hands,” John says. “She’s very — what’s the word I want to use? — goal-driven, in a good way. So when we finally joined forces and things started taking off, there was a bit of ‘I told you so’ about it.” He laughs. “In her defense, she was right.” (The brothers’ sister Natalie also works in Nashville as an A&R exec at the indie label Leo33, where she signed Zach Top.)

Brothers Osborne — nominated again for vocal duo of the year at next month’s CMAs ceremony — came up in a tightknit peer group that also included McBryde, Maren Morris and Kacey Musgraves. The duo broke out with a No. 1 showing for “Stay a Little Longer,” a single from their platinum 2016 debut; since then they’ve scored hits with tunes with like “21 Summer,” “Nobody’s Nobody” and “Burning Man,” the last a collab with Dierks Bentley that also went to No. 1.

Asked why they’ve been embraced by the traditional Nashville biz in a way that’s sometimes eluded Musgraves, TJ shakes his head. “There’s so many Kacey songs that I’m just like, How was this not a huge hit for her?” he says. “There is a game you have to play with country radio — doing things for them that we were willing to do that I know Kacey was just like, ‘No thanks.’”

Why does he reckon he and his brother were willing to jump through the hoops?

“I mean, we knew it would help,” he says. “We grew up in a poor family where everyone worked their asses off just to get by paycheck to paycheck. So I think for us it was about the fact that we’re gonna put in the work and get noticed.”

“You have to be willing to compromise — not your art or your dignity but compromise your time,” John says, “in the hopes that you can pursue a career in music because it’s very competitive.”

Over the past few years, some of Nashville’s biggest hits have come from outsiders like Post Malone experimenting with country music. Speaking broadly, TJ says the trendiness of the genre “is a little annoying because people are like, ‘I hate all country music,’ until their career flounders and suddenly they do a country record. Some of these people, they don’t know anything about it.

“At the same time, the genre is the biggest it’s ever been, which probably set the stage for a song like ‘Choosin’ Texas’ to be the song that it was,” he adds of Langley’s pedal-steel-soaked mega-smash, which just logged its 25th week atop Billboard’s Hot 100 — longer than any other song in chart history.

“I was just up in Brooklyn at a gay bar, and I’m like, All the gays are singing along — what the f—?” TJ says. “Also very jealous of that. I want a song all the gays are singing.”

Five years after he came out in a widely publicized Time magazine story, TJ says he doesn’t think much about his position as one of the few openly gay men in country music. As we keep talking, though, some things seem to come to mind.

“There was a moment recently with all the equity and inclusion stuff where [my identity] started to feel political — that was weird,” he says. “It felt like picking sides, even though I’m like, This is just my sexuality. But I feel like we’re kind of getting back out of that a bit.”

Then again, TJ recalls his appearance at May’s ACM Awards, where he presented Langley with the prize for female artist of the year. “I made a joke about my gay ass being up here giving this award, and there were comments from people being like, ‘I don’t understand why you have to talk about it,’” he says. “It’s like, F—, maybe people aren’t as open to it as I thought. It was proof to me that there’s still a lot of ground to cover.”

Is TJ up for doing the work of opening minds?

“I am. And I think it’s important work because there’s so many different types of gay people. There’s also so many different types of rural Americans. We’ll go to some places, and there are people who I perceive to maybe have some sort of bigotry towards me but I read them wrong and they’re actually totally cool.

“Look, you’re not gonna be able to convince everybody,” he adds. “There’s people that just hate on people for the stupidest reasons. Girls have it the worst. Anytime a girl does anything — ‘She looks like a slut,’ ‘She’s fat,’ ‘She’s too skinny.’ There’s just some mean people out there.”

“We’ve heard it all,” John says.

“There was this amazing burn we got one time where we’d taken ‘21 Summer’ out of the set,” TJ says, “and someone commented, ‘I can’t believe Brothers Osborne played 21 guitar solos but not ‘21 Summer.’” He laughs. “See, at least that’s pretty clever.”

As the intro of his song “Girls, Girls, Girls” poured over the crowd at SoFi Stadium late Friday night, Jay-Z locked eyes (from behind his ever-present shades) with a guy near the stage whose excitement had bubbled over at last.

“Oh, this yo s—,” the rapper observed with a knowing little laugh. “You was waiting for this s— all night long.”

Dude was lucky not to wait even longer: The first of two SoFi gigs, Friday’s show was an almost comically overstuffed display of hits by an aging cultural giant in the middle of a legend-reclamation project; Jay-Z performed parts of three dozen songs over two hours, which was still only a fraction of the 152 entries he’s notched on Billboard’s Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart since 1996.

“We got a million of these,” he said after doling out a few verses of “On to the Next One” — not bragging so much as explaining.

Having earlier visited stadiums in London, Paris and his hometown of New York, the 56-year-old is in Inglewood this weekend as part of what he’s calling JAŸ-Z30: a yearlong celebration of himself timed to the 30th anniversary of his debut album, “Reasonable Doubt,” and the 25th anniversary of his commercial high point, “The Blueprint.” Last month, HBO premiered an 8-part docuseries in which Jay-Z combs through the minutiae of his songwriting with the producer Rick Rubin; any day now, the rapper is expected to announce that he’ll return to SoFi in February to headline the halftime show at Super Bowl LXI.

That’s a lot of action for an artist who’s spent much of the last decade in éminence-grise mode — Jay-Z’s most recent solo album, “4:44,” came out in 2017 — but he seemed in fighting trim Friday, moving nimbly through the songs that made him a superstar and helped put hip-hop at the center of pop music. He was backed by a muscular live band (complete with horn players and a string section) that could push the music toward plush soul, sticky funk or crunching hard rock; “99 Problems,” in particular, made you think about how funny it’ll be, if indeed Jay-Z ends up at the Super Bowl, to see a rapper bring big guitars back to an event that rock fans love these days to lament.

Jay-Z’s daughter Blue Ivy joined him to play piano during “The Story of OJ” and “Dead Presidents II”; he beamed as she walked offstage afterward — a moving vision of fatherly pride. He also brought out Scarface, the veteran Houston MC, to do “This Can’t Be Life” and Scarface’s Geto Boys classic “Mind Playing Tricks on Me.” A pair of OGs still competing in a young man’s game, the two traded compliments before parting: “Jay-Z is a killer,” said Scarface, whom Jay-Z hailed as “one of the best writers of any genre.”

With a set list that jumped freely among albums and eras, the concert felt a little scattershot; it wasn’t always clear what story Jay-Z was trying to tell about his life and career beyond the glorification of his success. And you have to wonder how a man who’s found work as an event planner — booking the halftime show falls under the purview of his Roc Nation company — could end the night so anticlimactically with an appearance by a past-his-prime DJ Khaled. (It didn’t help that many in the audience were anxiously awaiting Jay-Z’s wife, Beyoncé, who performed with him at Yankee Stadium but didn’t show on Friday.)

The evening’s emotional peak came maybe two-thirds of the way through in “Never Change” and “Song Cry,” two tracks from “The Blueprint” written by a guy in his early 30s struggling with how — or whether — to hold onto his complicated past. That he performed them here as a middle-aged billionaire proved he figured it out; that they were so lush with the pain of nostalgia proved he remains an artist.

Eric Dangerfield is surrounded by senior citizens.

After a packed set at Riot Fest the previous weekend, the 25-year-old lead singer and rhythm guitarist of the Paradox welcomed the quiet of his boomer-dominated neighborhood.

“I’m a suburban dude,” he said, smiling from his home in metro Atlanta, his cropped two-toned dreads bobbing as he spoke.

The Paradox spent much of the summer on the festival circuit, powering through a growing discography of pop-punk gems, so Dangerfield and the three other band members are taking a brief breather before their Proceed With Caution Tour starts this month — their first as headliners.

It’s peaceful. That is, “Except when the boys come over,” he adds.

On a late morning in September, the boys are here and accounted for: patching in to a video call, minutes apart, from their homes, also in suburban ATL. Dangerfield, born with the perfect stage name, has ideas that flow faster than he can seem to get them out. Then there’s Donald Bryant on bass. Yin to Dangerfield’s yang, with a quiet, commanding presence.

Percy “PC3” Crews has been playing drums since he was 3, and his vicious skills on the drum kit contrast with a cheery, relaxed demeanor. Finally, there’s Christopher Bernard, a.k.a. Xelan — the lead guitarist and Dangerfield’s vocal complement.

Dangerfield likens the four to musical superheroes from a Marvel series. But not so much the “Earth’s mightiest heroes” variety.

On their first headlining tour, the band brings its new EP, “Proceed With Caution,” to Los Angeles while claiming space in a historically white genre and weaving social commentary into its pop-punk sound.

(Shorefire Media)

“I’m like Mister Fantastic and Donald’s my Invisible Woman. Xelan’s the Thing, and Percy is John Storm,” he says of his partners in musical mischief. “If I’m ugly, just say that,” quips Xelan, the band’s oldest member at 30. “Yeah. Because you’re strong, bro,” reassures Eric.

By this time, the interview has devolved into fun-loving chaos.

They finish each other’s sentences and switch up their Google Meet backgrounds, cracking up as an awkward graduation portrait pops up. At some point, Bernard decides to give a bedroom tour, showing off his collection of Blink-182 and Fall Out Boy posters.

A photo of him with Travis Barker hangs next to a framed Billboard plaque on a nightstand. Barker was featured on the Paradox’s 2025 single “Bender” and performed with the group at Vans Warped Tour the same year.

The Billboard plaque commemorates the band’s song “Get the Message” from its debut EP, “NSFW,” reaching No. 1 on the Alternative Airplay chart in January — a great achievement for any rock artist — but the Paradox also happens to be the first all-Black band to do so.

The success, although rapid, didn’t come from nowhere. All of the members have been working toward music in some form for years.

Dangerfield had a deal with a small label where he was originally making a go of it as a pop and R&B soloist. He also put out his music online. Looking for something different, he remembered his passing interest in pop-punk from his days growing up in Palm Coast, Fla. It was the “Fat Lip” video by Sum 41 that sealed the deal.

Yearning to be in a band, he started working with Bernard, whom he met online and shared his passion for the genre. Bryant was Dangerfield’s childhood friend from Palm Coast who had also moved to Atlanta, while Crews had been a fixture on the local music scene. And the name? It came from Dangerfield’s love of quantum physics.

Shortly after the group officially formed in June 2024, Dangerfield’s then-girlfriend — now wife and band “momager” Lexi Dangerfield — opened Instagram and TikTok accounts filming and posting their homey videos. The band’s song “Kaitlyn” and some covers blew up. The artists’ perspective, filtered through a Gen Z lens, struck a multigenerational nerve.

Attention came so quickly that Dangerfield felt the need to defend against online detractors who were convinced the group was an industry plant.

From there, the fairy-tale plot thickened. Billie Joe Armstrong followed Dangerfield on Instagram, and the two struck up a friendship that led to the Paradox opening for Green Day on the Atlanta stop of its Saviors Tour. But this was, of course, after Jack White’s people called — who the group ended up opening for at Basement East in Nashville.

Things haven’t slowed down in the two years since, with opportunities coming fast and furious. In the spring of last year, the band signed a deal with Hundred Days Records, a subsidiary of Virgin Music Group, and teamed up with producers Mike Pepe and Robopop to work on “NSFW.”

“Bender,” the group’s collaboration with Barker, and “Do Me Like That” are featured on Madden NFL 27 and NBA 2K26 video game soundtracks. Last month, the musicians streamed a concert from Twitch superstar Kai Cenat’s house. And now, instead of opening for their idols, they are inviting them up on stage as guests. For their second Warped Tour in Long Beach, that meant Deryck Whibley of Sum 41 and Logan Henderson from Big Time Rush.

The embrace from established musicians has definitely helped the band navigate its rise. In a moment of doubt, Crews said Good Charlotte’s Joel Madden, in particular, came through with sage advice.

“He asked me a question: ‘How does it feel being where we were?’ And I was like, ‘It feels like a dream.’ It felt like I was gonna wake up on my desk sophomore year with drool on my f— table. And I was telling him that, and he was like, ‘You know, it may feel that way, but it is real … It’s real, and it’s you … you belong in these rooms.’”

The irony of being embraced in a mostly white subgenre of punk rock while Black American culture formed its foundation is not lost on the group. Had the band come about during one of Dangerfield’s favorite eras of music, the ’50s and ’60s — there would likely have been rooms in which they weren’t welcomed.

While the band members understand the impact their visibility has — especially for non-white kids who grew up in the suburbs as they did: skating, riding BMX, building Legos, watching anime, dreaming of a life onstage — it does require some balance. “They’re not asking Taking Back Sunday this stuff,” Dangerfield acknowledged when asked if they might tire of the representation mantle. “Or Blink, but … We are a minority in this space and in this country, and I think that you know the stuff that comes with being Black should definitely be talked about. I think those conversations are important.”

He said as much in August, when the group made its Tiny Desk debut in celebration of NPR’s Black Music Month. “Now, like they said, we made history,” he said, leaning into the mic after the first song. “And the Paradox is in the business of bringing rock ’n’ roll back to the originators.”

A glance at the comment section under the video makes clear the group’s authenticity resonates with those who haven’t felt seen or heard in certain spaces.

“I’m a black girl from the suburbs of Metro ATL,” wrote @rainjojo. “And I’m glad to see representation of people who are like me indulging in punk rock. I got into this genre from childhood shows like “16,” “Stoked”, and other early 2000 to 2010 shows, and I remember being bullied for being whitewashed. Please keep making more music like this.”

The tour is named after “Proceed With Caution,” the band’s sophomore EP released on Oct. 2. Across six tracks, it continues in the same vein as “NSFW,” with sharp melodies and a dash of humor thrown in. But on “That’s Not Fair,” the group wades deeper into social commentary. It was also the most difficult to record, cut raw with no click track.

“We were just trying to think of things that were not fair, [from] small and trivial like losing your keys to, I don’t know, using it as a bridge to talk about larger issues and things like that,” Dangerfield says of the song. “I think a big thing for me personally, it’s not political … is kind of the fact that everything is getting so expensive. The price of everything is rising so rapidly, and the salaries that people are being paid are not really growing to match that.”

The Paradox perform at The Moroccan Lounge on Thursday, Oct. 22.

(Hunter Lyon)

“And it’s like, we got very lucky, but the thing is, most people don’t,” he continued. “If you’re gonna sacrifice all your time, slaving away working for big corporations and stuff like that, you should at least be able to, you know, buy a candy bar or something.”

So far, the musicians aren’t taking anything for granted and are trying to enjoy the in-between moments.

Dangerfield and his wife took their daughter on a Disney cruise for her second birthday — she’s spent much of her young life traveling with the band.

With some of his publishing money, Bernard indulged his love of vintage Japanese fashion and has a 2000s-era Tuscan house on his vision board. Crews stays healthy, listens to lots of Snarky Puppy, and looks forward to the relaxed cannabis laws of L.A. when the tour stops at the Moroccan Lounge on Oct. 22 and 23. If time allows, he might even have time to surf in Malibu.

Bryant, who counts Mike Dirnt, Mark Hoppus and James Jamerson among his biggest influences, balances a dream of seeing his band play for thousands with looking forward to a life lived like his older brother: a chiropractor with a nice family.

But some dreams will have to wait as the band goes back to making music, hopefully with lasting impact. The members want to become household names, “like Nirvana,” with music people will play for hundreds of years. Why not?

Anything is possible when you are a fantastic foursome.

It’s the third afternoon in another string of sweltering days in Los Angeles. A recent Friday offers no salvation for the weekend ahead besides sitting in front of a fan or turning up the air conditioning.

Thankfully, standing inside the climate-controlled walls of the Line hotel’s lobby and behind a cup of joe from its Alfred Coffee, there’s a smidgen of comfort.

The bell to the ground floor elevator rings and out steps a tall figure, wearing an all-black ensemble. His shorts hang just below his knees, his hair is a bit messy and his boots climb up his calf.

Grian Chatten looks remarkably cool for someone who’s just rolled out of bed, even more so for someone who has a performance at Hollywood Forever Cemetery later that night. He’s the leading man behind Fontaines D.C., a Dublin-born rock quintet that’s become one of the most exciting acts to grace a stage today.

And how couldn’t they be?

Their 2019 debut, “Dogrel,” was met with critical acclaim, a masterful album with references to James Joyce and a teeming garage-style production. Fast-forward five years later and their fourth effort, “Romance,” became their first to chart in the United States, reaching No. 97 on the Billboard 200.

Nowadays, they’re kicking up dust again with the release of “Dopamine Chamber,” which came out last Friday via XL Recordings. Its a continuation of the precedent they’ve set in terms of lyrical and sonic quality, but simultaneously is far more melancholic and synthesized than their previous work.

“Dopamine Chamber” is the band’s fifth release, following the success of “Romance” back in 2024.

(Ewen Spencer)

However, its rollout was rocky as the debut music video “Marianne” was criticized for its use of artificial intelligence. When the psychedelic, entrancing recording first hit YouTube, it listed a credit for AI “artists” in its description, sounding alarms among the band’s loyal fan base.

After all, it was widely viewed as contradictory of the group, which has been vehemently outspoken on various contemporary issues, including what the U.N. Human Rights Council has officially concluded to be genocide in Gaza.

We sat down with Chatten to discuss the new album, as well as some of the backlash the band has recently faced.

Tell me about this album title. Is it a literal happiness chamber?

It was me [who came up with it] because it originated as a line in a song, and the song never made it onto the album. We kept the pairing of words “dopamine chamber.”

I wanted to make it a bit more literary. Turns out that the dopamine chamber … it’s where they put rats to test different chemicals or in order to check their dopamine levels. We found that out after.

So it’s fake happiness.

It’s almost like nonconsensual happiness. I mean, if that exists.

Do you ever feel like that in life? Like you’re like forced to be happy with everything bleak that’s going on?

I think we force ourselves to feel a certain happiness every now and then, just so we can compartmentalize things and go about our day. I think that’s a survival mechanism, anyway. But to lose that is dangerous.

This album is a lot more synthesized than your previous work. “Six Short Morning” and “Mimesis” definitely stand out there.

It made sense, thematically. I felt that those textures signaled … I hate using the word “dystopian,” but the dystopian future. I wanted the album to feel more like an advanced version of “Romance,” where the body of the record had become more bionic. There’s a reason that there are so many strings and cinematic stuff, that’s the organic world that I wanted to draw on — people like Mina, the ‘60s singer from Italy.

The acoustic sounds are, of course, still present.

They’re supposed to be kind of like fighting for space, a little bit.

One track that stuck out to me was “Happy for You,” because of it’s insincere flattery. Who or what do you have in mind when you write songs like that?

It’s a bit like [R.E.M.’s] “Shiny Happy People,” it’s a similar function. That song is a jealousy of other people’s happiness or well-adjustedness.

I noticed those internal struggles show up a lot on this album. On “One Man,” are you singing about feeling the weight of many?

I think that’s more about the general existential feeling of helplessness in the face of things that are happening in the world. I’ve got a really good friend called Nikolaj Schultz, do you know him?

No idea.

He’s a sociologist and philosopher, and he writes mostly about the environment, the Anthropocene, and he’s written a couple of books with the French philosopher Bruno Latour, who passed away [in 2022]. He’s someone who’s strapped to their bed and feels away the world from morning to night.

That was a profound influence on “Romance” and on this album. So I think “One Man” pertains to that, maybe even to him.

It seems like you are heavily inspired by literature, more so than other artists would be by just general music and listening.

I think in literature, I can understand sometimes what the point is in what they’re writing. For example, this Schultz book “Land Sickness,” the style of it is to render the audience sensitive to this issue just by the osmosis of showing how much it affects you. Like, my mom got me into music by showing me how much it affected her.

How did the feature with Rosalía come about for “Where Is Gone?”

Well, this is our first feature. Carlos [O’Connell], our guitarist, grew up in Spain and had been listening to her first couple of records. Then we got into “Motomami” together and it became a fixture to listen to it backstage before our shows. When “Lux” came out, we were all quite obsessed with it.

We were four days out from mixing or from mastering the album, and Carlos rang me. He was like, “I think we’d be mistaken to not just send Rosalía something and see if she’d be interested.”

We sent her four tracks. We sent her “Where Is Gone?,” “One Man,” “Tongue,” and I can’t remember what the other one was. She got back within 48 hours with a full vocal of “Where Is Gone?”

You weren’t in the studio together?

She was on tour. She was in Miami at the time.

What happened with “Marianne?” There was a moment where it was credited to AI “artists.” Then it was corrected to be effects artists.

I woke up at like 5:30 a.m. the day after the video came out, and I saw an article that said there was AI used in the video, and I called our management, and I was like, “What the f—, is this true?” and it turned out that there was some AI used in like the workflow or the postproduction.

So all those main scenes and main effects and stuff were VFX and prosthetics, like the cheeks and everything. Over 110 people worked on the thing. It was a real huge human effort. But then somewhere in the process, someone from the VFX team I guess used some kind of AI in the workflow. And none of us were told about it. Apparently, not even our label or our management were told about it and it was a real shock.

Yeah, it seemed like you guys didn’t know.

Of course. I mean, we’re gonna have it written into our contracts going forward that like it can’t be in our music videos. You know what I mean? I don’t condone it.

I think a lot of people were shocked just because you guys are so active in contemporary issues, which AI certainly is.

It’s so f— ironic. No, very contradictory. The themes of the f— album as well. I was hoping to talk about how I felt about AI in interviews at some point anyway, and then this kind of pulled the rug from under that conversation a little bit.

It just f— sucked.

Well, how do you feel about AI?

I think it’s f— terrifying. I was watching a Robin Williams scene from “Dead Poets Society” when he talks about poetry, literature. These are the things that we stay alive for, and well, that’s exactly what AI threatens to rob from the human race.

I’ve seen those articles about those guys who are leaving AI companies because they said that the human race is going to be dead within 10 years. AI is literally rendering our souls obsolete and I think that is true death.

A lot of people say, “It’s here, we have to deal with it.”

We should just shut it off.

It always ends here. Every conversation [about AI] just ends grim. This is like every conversation with my dad over the last three years about it. It makes it tough to be alive, doesn’t it?

What’s the opposite of a victory lap?

One answer arrived this year in the form of “Music, Fashion, Film,” Charli XCX’s bracing follow-up to 2024’s Grammy-winning “Brat.” An emotionally complicated dance-pop album about the relationship between power and vulnerability, “Brat” struck a nerve in a weird cultural moment and finally brought Charli the kind of stardom she’d been openly seeking for ages. In the LP’s immediate aftermath, the English musician hungrily scooped up the spoils of her success — playing Coachella’s main stage, starring in a highbrow mockumentary, soundtracking Hollywood’s latest take on “Wuthering Heights.”

Yet “Music, Fashion, Film” wonders what it all meant. It’s a digitally enhanced rock record — probably 2026’s best thing-with-guitar — that cycles through thoughts on ambition and trend-chasing before landing with a moving sense of serenity on the idea that everybody dies and takes their accomplishments with them.

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“No One Lasts Forever” is the album’s final track, and Sunday night that was also Charli’s closer at Inglewood’s Kia Forum, where she headlined the second of two shows over the weekend.

Structurally, the concert bookended songs from “Brat” (for which she was accompanied by prerecorded tracks) with stuff from “Music, Fashion, Film” (for which a scuzzy live band backed her up). There were stray oldies too, including “Constant Repeat,” which she introduced as one of the first songs she wrote about her husband, George Daniel — “even though it’s not exactly truthful,” she added — and the landmark hyperpop cut “Vroom Vroom.”

She also did “House,” a spooky goth-folk song from “Wuthering Heights” that had her writhing on the stage in the white-hot heat of a single spotlight — a sex kitten turned scream queen (or perhaps vice versa). And she brought out Adéla, the Slovakian singer famously booted from the reality show that created Katseye, to do her viral hit “Nicole Kidman,” which is just one of a handful of rough-edged pop hits this year that demonstrate “Brat’s” lasting influence.

Indeed, what was illuminating about the middle of the show — basically a half-hour-long club night with strobes cranked happily to here’s-the-seizure-you-ordered — was seeing how very un-tired Charli’s fans are of being pulverized by songs like “Club Classics,” for which she donned her Superman’s-cape sunglasses, and “Guess,” during which pairs of underwear rained down on the audience in a nod to the music video for the song’s remix with Billie Eilish.

Charli had opened with the new album’s “Rock Music,” in which she declares that “the dance floor is dead”; here, her sarcasm fooled precisely nobody.

My favorite part was the home stretch of tunes from “Music, Fashion, Film”: “Camera,” a startlingly frank confession of her movie-star aspirations; “Magic Metal Montana,” a deeply tender ode to her friend and collaborator A.G. Cook; “SS26,” a jittery electro-punk jam about “walking on a runway that goes straight to hell.”

I love the strange emotion in these songs — the feeling that you might as well say what you want because the only thing more embarrassing than taking a risk is not taking one.

At some point, Charli lit up a cigarette and waved it around like someone who’d discovered a critical truth. What were they gonna do — make her end the concert early?

Define early; better yet, define late.

“For me, performance can’t be everything,” Miley Cyrus declared on Friday night, and you had to admire her choice of setting: onstage at the Hollywood Bowl in front of approximately 18,000 people who’d turned up precisely to see her perform.

A star since her teenage days on the Disney Channel’s “Hannah Montana,” the 33-year-old musician and actor was maybe half an hour into the first of two sold-out concerts at the iconic hillside amphitheater — a place close to Cyrus’ heart, as she explained in a videotaped intro recalling a gig she and her fiancé, Maxx Morando, caught last year by the French band Air.

“I step into wine, which soaks onto my boots,” she said in the dramatic black-and-white clip. “I don’t mind stained leather — it only adds to their character.”

Cyrus’ shows were billed as part of the rollout of her latest album, “Bass Persuades,” which came out in September (and which found her dropping her last name to go simply by Miley). Yet the two-night engagement is really meant to mark her grand return to the stage after she said a few years ago that she’d sworn off touring because it was too harmful to her mental health.

Is “grand” the right word for a comeback as equivocal as this one? Despite all the hype surrounding this weekend’s concerts, Cyrus spoke again and again Friday about how much less space for performance she has in her life these days than she used to; she talked repeatedly about her quest to balance her fans’ emotional needs with her own.

At one point, after singing a couple of numbers on a small B-stage about halfway up the bowl, she walked through the crowd back to the main stage, gripping and grinning the entire way. Then she described the toll her trip had just taken: “I appreciate each of you guys reaching out and touching me, and me getting to feel you. But I do want to say — it is a lot for me,” she said. “It is a little bit overwhelming.”

In an era of parasocial pop stardom, the radical honesty of Cyrus’ approach — her clear-eyed appraisal of the relationship that binds an idol and her audience — was kind of a thrill to behold. The problem was that her singing for the most part wasn’t.

As she described being overwhelmed, her band slowly revved up her song “Wrecking Ball.” It’s one of the great power ballads of the last 25 years, with a chorus as cathartic as any in modern pop; Cyrus, the showbiz lifer, surely understood the payoff she was building toward. Except when the moment arrived, she inexplicably dodged it, skipping the song’s first chorus and soft-pedaling the second — an anticlimax for the ages.

Indeed, Cyrus let the audience and her backup singers handle vocals for many of her biggest hits, among them “The Climb,” “Party in the U.S.A.” and “We Can’t Stop”; during that last one, she twerked for a second, evoking memories of the infamous 2013 MTV performance that briefly scandalized a nation.

She sang more heartily in songs from “Bass Persuades,” which would’ve been better news if that tuneless mishmash of bleary synths and dated club beats weren’t one of the year’s least likable pop records. (This month Variety reported that, after debuting at No. 1 on the Billboard 200, the album took the biggest fall in chart history in its second week of release.)

The paradox of Cyrus’ career at this stage is that she wants to do the thing that nobody wants her to do — “Bass Persuades” is just the latest in a string of crummy LPs — and doesn’t want to do the thing that everybody wants her to do. Truly, her bad taste should be studied: On Friday, she welcomed Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips to the B-stage for a duet on “Karen Don’t Be Sad,” from the miserable psych-rock record they made together in 2015. Naturally, Cyrus said it was her favorite of her albums.

One highlight of the show was Cyrus’ tribute to her late godmother, Dolly Parton, whom she memorialized with a rendition of “Jolene” and with a funny and touching account of the time Parton tried unsuccessfully to get Cyrus to sing with her at the Bowl.

I also found myself moved near the end of the night by Cyrus’ performance of the only keeper on “Bass Persuades” — a dreamy little love song called “Let’s Get Married” for which Morando joined her onstage. As he played drums, she ran her hand tenderly over his chest before laying her head on his shoulder; the moment reminded me of that goofy intro video about the Air concert, which she likened to a bubble containing only the two of them.

“That’s how it feels when we’re together,” she said. “I think I’d live in that bubble.”

Rock band Pavlov’s Dog is mourning the loss of singer-songwriter and lead vocalist David Surkamp, who died Monday at age 74.

Violinist and Pavlov’s Dog member Abbie Steiling announced Surkamp’s death Wednesday on Facebook. Additional information about Surkamp’s passing, including a cause of death, was not revealed.

“David leaves behind a legacy of endless creativity, unmistakable artistry, and a body of music that has touched lives across generations and around the world,” Steiling said on the band’s behalf.

Pavlov’s Dog also remembered its vocalist for his “profoundly poetic spirit and a romantic heart that found its way into every note, every lyric and every performance.”

Surkamp was born May 23, 1952, and led Pavlov’s Dog, known for songs “Julia” and “Late November,” since its founding in 1973 in St. Louis. He founded the band alongside bassist Rick Stockton, violinist Siegfried Carver and drummer Mike Safron, according to the band’s website. The group, which first signed to ABC Records under a six-figure deal, released its debut album “Pampered Menial” in 1975. The release featured the band’s most popular songs and showcased Surkamp’s high-pitched and trembling, yet powerful, vocals.

Pavlov’s Dog’s second release “At the Sound of the Bell” followed in 1976 and its third, “Lost in America,” came more than a decade later in 1990. Surkamp departed Pavlov’s Dog while recording its junior album and traveled to Seattle to further develop his musical talents. This led to a collaboration with British musician Iain Matthews and their power pop duo Hi-Fi.

Surkamp and his Pavlov’s Dog collaborators reunited in the early 2000s and Surkamp’s wife, Sara, joined as a vocalist and guitarist. The group went on to tour Europe, including playing the Netherlands’ Arrow Rock Festival in 2006. Over the years, Pavlov’s Dog saw members come and go: Some musicians departed the group because of conflicting commitments and others — including founding members Carver and Rayburn — died in the late aughts and early 2010s.

The group, with Surkamp still at the helm, later released albums “Echo & Boo” in 2011, “Wonderlust” in 2025 alongside some live albums, remasters and unreleased demos.

“He always allowed the musicians around him to shine in their strengths, generous with the spotlight and appreciative of what each brought to the music,” Steiling continued in the band’s Facebook post. “No matter what life held for him, he came alive onstage. Even on his hardest days, when the lights came up and the count-off began, he was a consummate performer. If he was playing music, it was a great day.”

Surkamp was preceded in death by his wife Sara, who died in 2025 at age 72. He is survived by children Saylor and Evan.

As swiftly as Barry Manilow returned to the stage following a health-related hiatus, he has stepped away.

On Friday, Manilow cut his concert short just two songs after it began. The 83-year-old crooner abruptly told the crowd to talk among themselves as he walked off stage, according to concertgoers who detailed the incident on social media. The curtain dropped, and a few moments later the audience was told the show was a wrap. Manilow’s performance slated for Saturday was subsequently nixed.

The day before, on Thursday, the “Copacabana” singer had returned after a six-week break to perform at the International Theater at the Westgate Las Vegas Resort & Casino, telling the audience, “I’m back!” Manilow appeared to be spry and energetic throughout the show. “God, I feel like I’m a teenage idol again,” he joked when a couple of audience members tossed underwear onto the stage. He picked up a pair of full-coverage briefs and asked if they needed to go to the laundry, then a pink lacy thong and joked, “I’ll keep this pair.”

“After a triumphant welcome-back concert on Thursday, Barry got hit with bronchitis and had to cancel his Friday and Saturday shows,” reps for Manilow told Paste Magazine.

Last year, Manilow revealed that he had been diagnosed with lung cancer and that surgery would require him to postpone several performances. In May, he told The Times that, since he had surgery, he was getting winded just walking down the hallway. “Ninety minutes of screaming in tune, which is what I do for a living — I’m not up for that yet,” he said at the time. “I will be, but it’s taking a long time to get my voice back. They warned me that I’d have to learn to breathe again. So these days, I get up, I go to my piano and I try to be creative. Before I know it, the afternoon’s over.”

The star returned to the stage in June following a six-month hiatus, in support of his latest album, “What a Time,” his first LP loaded with new material in almost 15 years.

But in August, Manilow canceled shows because of vocal and technical problems before telling fans he needed to pause. “We just finished a fantastic summer tour, 29 shows in 68 days,” the singer said. “The shows were fantastic. The audiences were fantastic. And I sounded fantastic. But it seems that we were pushing a little too hard.

“Now we all need to sit down and shut up,” Manilow said.