sound

There’s no shortage of bands commemorating their glory days as decade anniversaries of albums fly by. Yet few landmark releases feel not only fresh but forward-thinking 20 years after they were recorded. My Morning Jacket stumbled onto this kind of brilliance in October 2004 when it released its fourth studio album “Z.” Across 10 tracks of lush, euphoria-driven rock ‘n’ roll, the band captured a notable tone shift in its sound that melded Southern rock, haunting folk, psychedelic soul laced with jam band energy. It’s a set of songs that still make up a huge chunk of the bands live show. In September the band performed the album in its entirety to a sold-out Hollywood Palladium for its 20th anniversary.

“We still play these songs all the time,” said frontman and principal songwriter Jim James in a recent conversation. “So it’s not like we broke up after we released ‘Z’ and then we got back together 20 years later to play these songs, and it’s such a trip. We’ve been playing them nonstop for 20 years.”

Shortly after the release of its 10th studio album “is,” the band put out a deluxe reissue of “Z” that includes four B-sides and a whole album’s worth of demo versions of songs like “Wordless Chorus,” “Off the Record” and Dodante. Recently James spoke to The Times about the enduring power of “Z” and the joy of going back to the beginning of the album’s origins to give himself and his fans a new appreciation for the groundbreaking sound the band created.

The rerelease of “Z” was prefaced earlier this year with a full-album show at the Palladium. What was it like revisiting the album on stage first before it came out (again) on vinyl and streaming?

This is our fourth album now to hit the 20-year mark. So we’ve got some experience now doing these album shows. And it’s funny because some of the earlier albums we don’t play all the songs from them so we had to go back and relearn a lot of songs. But the songs from “Z” we pretty much play all the songs all the time. So it’s pretty hilarious how it involved no effort. It just involved playing them in that order of the sequence of the album. But we kind of laughed about that. We’re like, man, we don’t really even have to do any research or anything. We were all kind of reflecting just on how grateful we are that we like playing all the songs still. It’s such a great feeling to play songs for 20 years and never really get tired of them. People still want to hear them and there’s still excitement there, and they still feel fresh. It’s really a beautiful thing.

This was your first album using an outside producer. What was that like for you as the songwriter to step in the studio with John Leckie to help you realize your vision with “Z”?

It was so great, because I really needed somebody who could work with me and not let our egos clash too much. John was just really great about coming in and respecting what I wanted to do, but also voicing his opinion and what he liked and what he didn’t like and when he thought we could do better. And it was just really so refreshing and so good for us to have him there. I mean, his track record speaks for itself, he’s somebody who you can trust right off the bat, just because of all the things they’ve done in the past. He’s such a soft-spoken gentleman but he also has this hilarious, brutal honesty about him, which was always really great.

Your lineup had also changed between the previous album “It Still Moves” and “Z” — adding keyboard player Bo Koster and guitarist Carl Broemel who are still in the band today. So was that like stepping in the studio with the “new guys” for the first time?

It was really nerve-racking and really exciting all at once. We had some touring experience under our belt with Bo and Carl, so we kind of knew that it was working out on that level, but we’d never really recorded before, so it was a real test for all of us. And I think we all knew that. So everybody brought their A game to the session and we took it really seriously, but we also had a lot of fun and just really kind of got to know each other. That was good to do that out in the middle of nowhere, out there in the Catskills, up at the studio. It gave us some time to really bond without a lot of the real-world stuff coming in or other people coming in. So I think that was really important, that we did it that way.

Do you remember what song came out of the sessions first?

“It Beats 4 U” was the first one, because that was one we had already played live before we started recording. So I think that was the first song that we started messing with. But I think they all were kind of coming to life around the same time. So by the time we got in there to start unpacking them, I had already written them and kind of made the demos of them and stuff.

It’s great that you included so many demo versions of your songs on this rerelease. What was the process like of locating these, sifting through and sequencing which ones you wanted to put on the album?

Well, I love demos for a lot of my favorite bands — I love it when I get to hear the demos from the albums. So I’m always saving all that stuff; with my own stuff I’m always compiling all the demos, because that’s half the fun to me. Because sometimes you get this just like a beautiful glimpse into the song. Quite often, I end up liking the demo more than I like the actual album, song because you get a whole, whole new view of it. It’s also interesting when you’re sequencing for vinyl, because you don’t have unlimited time so you kind of got to pick and choose, and that kind of forces you to just choose the best. There’s a whole other round of band demos and then there were my demos, so there were a lot of things to choose from. But it kind of helps me to look at it in vinyl format. There’s still something about the vinyl time limit that helps with quality control. Just kind of pick the ones that I feel are most effective and then try and make a fun sequence so that hopefully, if somebody’s into them, it’s kind of like you get a bonus album that you can listen to.

We had four true songs, B-sides, that we really love too, that weren’t demos. So that was really nice to finally get those out, because those had been on different soundtracks. And then one wasn’t even released. So I don’t think that those weren’t even on streaming or anything for years and years. So it’s really cool to have those out kind of everywhere now, because I’ve always liked all those songs and been proud of those songs too. And I think most bands know the feeling of you know when you make a record. Sometimes songs just don’t fit the record, even if you still love the songs.

MMJ during the “Z” era.

(Sam Erickson)

Were you playing any of those live at the point where you released the album the first round, or did you shelve them for later?

We’ve always played “Where to Begin” live — off and on. We’ve also tried “Chills” a couple times, and I think we did “How Could I Know” a couple times. We’ve never played “The Devil’s Peanut Butter,” we kinda forgot that one existed until this whole [album rerelease] process started, and I found that song again. So we’ll probably play that one somewhere out on the next leg.

Was this process something that you enjoy doing, like, in terms of your how to, sort of like, reexamine an album?

I really love it because I just feel so grateful that anybody even gives a s–, you know? I mean, so there’s that part of me that’s just so grateful to even still be in the game, talking about this. But beyond that, it’s really cool for me because it’s like jumping in a time machine and going back and looking at that point in my life and getting perspective on where I am now, and seeing how I’ve grown and asking “where have I changed? Where have I not changed?” I look back and with all of these albums as they come up to this 20-year mark, and I see I’ve always been really mean and hard on myself, on Jim, but I know that Jim was doing the best he could at each time. That’s the one thing I’ve always kind of been able to see, to get myself through, to not be too hard on myself. I know I was giving it everything I had, so whether I would change things about it as I am today or not — we all look back on the past, and maybe there’s things we’d do differently, but it gives me a lot of comfort to know that I was trying as hard as I could, and all the guys in the band were trying as hard as they could. It really makes me feel proud of us for just putting in the time and effort.

Brian O’Connor thinks part of his success is due to California voter approval of Proposition 13, the landmark property tax reduction proposal that catalyzed the taxpayer revolt more than a decade ago.

He is the general manager of the Bel-Air Patrol, which operates Los Angeles’ oldest private residential security patrol service. Since Proposition 13, the company has greatly expanded its territory and number of clients, he said.

Business is good and getting better for a growing number of such companies that deploy armed and unarmed guards to watch over Southern California neighborhoods. In fact, such businesses are growing all over the nation.

Residential guard services are a fast-growing segment of the security guard business, says Robert McCrie, editor of Security Letter, a trade publication. He estimated that residential guard services account for 10% to 15% of the nation’s $6.5-billion annual security guard bill. “The growth has been quite unmistakable since World War II. One reason is that people simply feel afraid,” said McCrie, who is also a professor of security management at New York’s John Jay College of Criminal Justice.

More Seek Permits

The public’s perception that government services have declined in California since the passage of Proposition 13 adds to the fear, O’Connor said. People feel that their local police departments are stretched too thin, he said. “The police obviously have to prioritize where they concentrate their effort,” he said.

People also want more control of their personal safety, he said. The average homeowner can’t control the police, but he can hire and fire private security firms at will, he said.

Within the city of Los Angeles, about 50 firms have Los Angeles Police Department permits to offer residential patrol service. Many more operate in the county, and “there may be some operating illegally (in Los Angeles),” said Det. Richard Rudell, chief of the permit section of the Los Angeles Police Commission.

Rudell said he has noted a steady increase in the number of firms applying for permits in recent years, although “some have subsequently gone out of business.” Every year, a number don’t renew their permits, he says.

Security guards do not have police powers. For example, guards patrolling a neighborhood may not detain someone believed to be acting suspiciously, said Lt. Fred Nixon, a Los Angeles Police Department spokesman.

Like anyone, they may make a citizen’s arrest of a person caught committing a crime. Guard companies claim that their presence deters crime, but independent statistical studies aren’t available to verify that claim.

“The police department believes that a highly visible patrol tends to deter crime,” Nixon said. “That is not a vote for or against private patrols. (The patrol) is only part of the equation.”

Private companies offer different levels of services. The larger security alarm companies provide armed guards to respond to an alarm. Other services simply drive through a neighborhood, or by an individual residence, or stop and inspect the exterior of properties. Still others provide mail and newspaper pickups for clients who are out of town and an escort service for clients fearful of entering an empty house after being away for a period.

Added Problems

Although the concept of security patrols seem simple, it’s not that easy for small operators–who are the vast majority of patrol businesses–to make a patrol service a success, said Robert Rockwell, a Walnut Creek, Calif., security management consultant.

Patrol services have all the challenges of hiring and supervising personnel as other guard companies, he said, with the additional burden of purchasing and maintaining vehicles that are driven constantly, he said. They also have the complication of getting a sufficient client base and calculating patrol routes under a price structure that will produce a profit, he said.

Because of the complications, many of the nation’s largest providers of security guards have shied away from that segment, he said, although many will provide a stationary guard for an apartment building, or gated community. (The largest segment of the security guard business is providing on-site guards for businesses and factories.)

Many larger companies that offer residential patrols are essentially in the business of selling security alarms.

Rockwell is also vice president of California Contract Security Guard Service, a trade group of 125 companies. “Very few of our members are involved,” he said.

Most residential patrols are small, perhaps operating with two or three people, he said. “One guy starts a patrol business where he does the patrols himself. Then he hires somebody else to take (another) shift,” Rockwell said.

Thomas Walthen acquired residential patrols in 30 cities across the country, including one in Los Angeles, when his Van Nuys-based California Plant Protection bought the venerable Pinkerton Security Service in 1987, creating a tie between CPP/Pinkerton and Borg-Warner’s security business as the nation’s largest provider of security guards.

High Accident Rate

(Borg-Warner includes Burns International Security Services, Wells Fargo Guard Services and Baker Industries, the parent of the Bel-Air Patrol). The acquisition put Walthen in a business segment that he abandoned 20 years ago. Unlike many services in the old days, Pinkerton has developed a “substantially sophisticated patrol service,” Walthen said.

Nevertheless, he added, “We’re still in the process of evaluating the operation. It looks like a profitable arm,” he said. But there are some problems. “The ratio of accidents to miles driven seem to be terribly out of line,” he said, and nobody seems to know why.

Although relatively big companies are in the minority among those offering residential patrols, they are among the best known in Southern California. A familiar sight throughout affluent neighborhoods are lawns and gardens sprouting signs for Bel-Air, MacGuard Security Services and Westec Security, a unit of Japan’s SECOM Co. All three sell alarm systems and offer armed response to alarms as well as neighborhood patrols.

“We’re not a security guard company. We sell a concept of security,” said Westec President Michael Kaye, explaining how the company’s alarm systems interact with a staff of almost 800 people. About 200 are guards on patrol. The company views itself as playing an “observe and report” role for the police. However, he said, the company plays a crucial prevention role.

“We’ve found time and time again that if a patrol is in a neighborhood, there is less crime. Burglars are basically lazy and will take the path of least resistance,” he said. Westec cites the experience of three Westside communities where it has tracked crime statistics before and after patrols.

Incidents Drop

One area with 400 homes had several burglaries a month before Westec began patrols seven years ago. Since patrols started, there have been no more than three burglaries a year and only one in 1988. Another neighborhood with 500 homes reported seven to 10 robberies a month before the patrols, the company said, but in the nine years of patrols, there have been less than six a year. Thus far in 1988, there have been three incidents.

A community of 250 homes reported several burglaries a month before the Westec patrols began seven years ago, the company said, but has had no more than two per year since. There haven’t been any incidents reported in 1988, the company said.

“We’re in the public relations and protection business,” said O’Connor, the retired British policeman who runs Bel-Air Patrol. “We’re never in conflict with law enforcement because we aren’t in that business,” he added.

What is it about the musical biopic that has inspired so much Oscar love? Is it the genre’s front-row seat on the turbulent, provocative, culture-shifting lives of artists we’ve worshiped from afar? Is it the transformational, go-for-broke acting showcase it affords, and the painstaking period recreation so essential to the journey back in time? Or is it simply the enduring power of popular music and the icons who’ve created and performed it?

With the release of writer-director Scott Cooper’s biographical drama “Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere,” starring kudos magnet Jeremy Allen White in an immersive portrayal of The Boss circa 1982, it feels like the perfect time to flash back on some of the most honored pop-music biopics in Oscars history.

‘A Complete Unknown’ (8 nominations)

Monica Barbaro and Timothée Chalamet in “A Complete Unknown.”

(Searchlight Pictures)

This nostalgic snapshot of the early career of legendary folk singer Bob Dylan racked up eight Oscar nominations, including for picture, director (James Mangold), adapted screenplay (Mangold and Jay Cocks), and actors Timothée Chalamet (Dylan), Edward Norton (Pete Seeger) and Monica Barbaro (Joan Baez). Though it exited the awards ceremony empty-handed (it also earned nods for sound and costume design), the film enjoyed solid awards-season grosses, largely positive reviews and further burnished Chalamet’s cred as a versatile and chameleonic leading man.

‘Elvis’ (8 nominations)

Austin Butler in “Elvis.”

(Warner Bros. Pictures)

Tracking the meteoric rise and fall of the King of Rock ’n’ Roll, this electric, eclectic, midcentury biopic impressed critics, shook up the box office and made a star out of Presley proxy Austin Butler. (Go ahead, say it: “Thank you, thank you very much!”) Though “Elvis” left the building on Oscar night with zero wins from eight nods — including picture, lead actor, cinematography and film editing — the movie brought the hip-swiveling singer back into the zeitgeist and gave director Baz Luhrmann yet another feather in his movie-musical cap.

‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’ (8 nominations)

James Cagney stars as George M. Cohan in the 1942 biographical musical drama “Yankee Doodle Dandy.”

(Turner Entertainment)

An oldie but a goodie, this popular — and patriotic — musical drama, starring James Cagney as prolific composer-singer-showman George M. Cohan, was nominated for eight Academy Awards, including for picture, director (Michael Curtiz), lead actor and supporting actor (Walter Huston). Cagney won his only Oscar for the exuberant role. (He also received nominations for 1938’s “Angels With Dirty Faces” and 1955’s “Love Me or Leave Me,” another musical biopic.) “Yankee” took home additional statuettes for sound and, as the category was then called, best scoring of a musical picture.

‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’ (7 nominations)

Levon Helm and Sissy Spacek in “Coal Miner’s Daughter.”

(Universal Pictures)

Country star Loretta Lynn may have been born a coal miner’s daughter, but Sissy Spacek was born to play her, as evidenced by the Oscar she won for her striking portrayal. The film, which spanned Lynn’s humble Kentucky youth and marriage at 15 through her extraordinary rise to chart-topping fame — and the nervous breakdown that nearly derailed her career — scored seven nominations, including for picture and adapted screenplay (by Thomas Rickman). Spacek, the film’s sole Oscar winner, would go on to earn four more lead actress nominations.

‘Bound for Glory’ (6 nominations)

David Carradine, who played folk singer Woody Guthrie in “Bound for Glory,” strums a guitar at the 1977 Cannes Film Festival.

(Keystone / Hulton Archive via Getty Images)

Seminal American folk singer Woody Guthrie, who was a pivotal supporting character in last year’s “A Complete Unknown,” had a biopic all to himself in this lyrical drama directed by the great Hal Ashby. Based on Guthrie’s 1943 autobiography and starring David Carradine as the itinerant, socially conscious musician, the movie was nominated for six Oscars, including picture, adapted screenplay and film editing. It won for Haskell Wexler’s evocative cinematography and Leonard Rosenman’s sweeping score — but remained more of a critical than commercial success.

‘Ray’ (6 nominations)

Jamie Foxx in “Ray.”

(Nicola Goode)

Jamie Foxx took home the Oscar, among many other prizes, for his vibrant embodiment of pioneering singer-songwriter-pianist Ray Charles. The ambitious box-office hit, which followed the influential crossover artist from his childhood in 1930s Georgia (when he went blind) through the late 1970s — and all the successes, detours and struggles in between — garnered six nominations, including best picture and director (Taylor Hackford). Along with the lead actor award, “Ray” won for sound mixing. Foxx also earned a supporting actor nod that same year for his fine dramatic work in Michael Mann’s “Collateral.”

‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ (5 nominations)

Rami Malek in “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

(Alex Bailey / Twentieth Century Fox)

Audiences and Academy voters were kinder than many critics to this often dazzling, mega-grossing ($910 million worldwide) portrait of groundbreaking Queen frontman and co-founder Freddie Mercury, who died of complications from AIDS in 1991. Although called out for sanitizing the queer, vocally gifted musician’s private — and not-so-private — life, the movie was nominated for five Oscars, including best picture. With wins for film editing, sound editing, sound mixing and, most notably, lead actor (for Rami Malek’s captivating turn as Mercury), the picture amassed the most statuettes in that year’s race.

‘Lady Sings the Blues’ (5 nominations)

Diana Ross in “Lady Sings the Blues.”

(Paramount Pictures)

Diana Ross made an auspicious feature acting debut in this sprawling biopic about the hardships and triumphs of celebrated jazz singer Billie Holiday. An iconic music star herself — she’d recently left the hit-making Supremes to go solo — Ross earned her first (and only) Oscar nod for her galvanizing recreation. The film received four additional nominations, including for original screenplay and costume design, but won none. Ross, who lost that year to Liza Minnelli in “Cabaret,” would go on to star in just a handful of other films. (“Mahogany,” anyone?)

‘Walk the Line’ (5 nominations)

Joaquin Phoenix in “Walk the Line.”

(Suzanne Tenner / 20th Century Fox)

The life of country-folk-rockabilly star Johnny Cash received a polished, emotionally rich big-screen treatment thanks to fine direction by James Mangold (who co-wrote with Gill Dennis) and powerful star turns by Joaquin Phoenix as the complicated Man in Black and Reese Witherspoon as his resilient wife, singer June Carter Cash. The popular, well-reviewed drama collected five Oscar nominations: lead actor and actress, costume design, film editing and sound mixing. Witherspoon captured Oscar gold — along with a raft of other awards — for her memorable performance.

Gustavo Dudamel has begun his tale of two cities.

As Dickens prophetically reminds us, ours is hardly the first age of wisdom and of foolishness, the first epoch of belief and of incredulity. Dudamel’s great challenge is to make his 17th and final season as music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic — and his prelude season before taking over the New York Philharmonic (in September he officially became designate music and artistic director) — the best of musical times for both cities.

The opening concerts for the two orchestras were two weeks apart, the Big Apple having come first. The main works on the New York-centric program were by two great 20th century composers, Bartók and Charles Ives, who were treated as outsiders by the city’s musical establishments during their lifetimes.

The performances were impressive. An orchestra that has a reputation for being difficult was responsive. If I read the room right, there was a genuine, if somewhat guarded, sense of optimism from a welcoming crowd.

Following a tradition he started with his first season in L.A., Dudamel opened with a newly commissioned work, Leilehua Lanzilotti’s “of light and stone.” He struck instant sonic gold with this mystical evocation of Hawaii, wondrous in sound, Lanzilotti, a hopeful good start.

Dudamel has a different look these days when he walks out on stage for an L.A. Phil concert after he’s been away for a while. Thursday night at Walt Disney Concert Hall, he again seemed ever so slightly hesitant, as if not knowing what to expect now that his leaving has become manifest. But greeted by a full house’s demonstratively embracing thankful enthusiasm, he beamed, the hesitant posture turning into ownership.

The conductor opened his farewell season with Ellen Reid’s “Earth Between Oceans,” a joint commission bridging his two orchestral families.

(Timothy Norris / Los Angeles Philharmonic)

The new work this year is Ellen Reid’s “Earth Between Oceans,” and it is Dudamel’s first effort at bringing together what he calls his two families.

Reid, who is herself bicoastal between L.A. and New York, narrates, through astonishing orchestral properties and powers, an environmental tale of her two cities. The work is a joint commission with the New York Philharmonic; Dudamel will take it east in the spring.

Earth, air, water and fire are Reid’s subject matters, which she translates into four movements that cover a New York winter, an aerial approach to Manhattan’s noise and quiet, the Altadena and Pacific Palisades conflagrations, ending on a sort of surfboard ride over crashing blue waves. With the help of a wordless Los Angeles Master Chorale, Reid tells the story through ever-surprising instrumental evocation.

Nothing, however, sounds like you might expect in Reid’s massive orchestral soundscape capable of holding a listener in tight grip for 30 minutes. Is that percussive pounding in earth the ground moving under our feet and the cello solo snowy Central Park? I don’t know how she does it, but I immediately bought into weird sounds from the chorus indicating something words can’t express about what those New York skyscrapers are up to. The effect of what sounded like ticking clocks going astray felt like an inviting dip in the lake.

Dudamel ended the concert with Richard Strauss’ “Alpine Symphony,” 125 orchestral musicians schlepping up the mountain, finding spiritual ecstasy at the summit and getting drenched on the way down, a self-satisfied drinking in of nature with every step. It is an astonishing, so to speak, over-the-top score, which you either love or abhor for its instrumental vulgarity.

Love was in order Thursday. Dudamel first performed “Alpine Symphony” at Disney in 2008, a year before beginning as music director. He jogged up the mountain and back, full of beans, showing off but also sharing his enthusiasm and demonstrating a skill that gave confidence that this 20-something conductor had the chops.

Dudamel’s performance of Strauss’ “Alpine Symphony” demonstrated the L.A. Phil’s distinctive immediacy compared with his more formal European interpretations.

(Timothy Norris / Los Angeles Philharmonic)

Last summer, I heard Dudamel conduct the “Alpine” with the Vienna Philharmonic at the Salzburg Festival. The playing was sumptuous but formal and distant. These were the Alps as seen from a comfortable gondola taking in the view, and what a view, indeed.

The L.A. Phil sound, on the other hand, reveled in being-there, huffing-and-puffing immediacy. A rainstorm was a rainstorm: wet. The pastures replete with cowbells weren’t so much scenic as earthy, the real thing.

The orchestra sounded rapt and ready for ecstasy Thursday. There are two new first-chair players. A member of the orchestra’s second violin section, Melody Ye Yuan, has become her section’s principal. Ryan Roberts is the new principal oboe, and he had a luminous solo in the “Alpine.”

It was only after Roberts, who grew up in Santa Monica, won the L.A. Phil blind audition for principal oboe that Dudamel discovered he had just hired away a rising star in what is about to become his New York Philharmonic. But it’s all in the big new family.

BRAZILIAN jiu-jitsu Amanda Mazza snapped her OWN arm while attempting a submission.

The American grappler faced Emily Hansen at CFFC BJJ 15 in Philadelphia.

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Mazza took Hansen’s back in the search for a rear-naked choke.

But as Mazza tightened her grip, she accidentally snapped her own arm, declaring Hansen the winner.

Fans were in shock by the astonishing incident as one said: “Wow. Never seen that.”

Another added: “Did not know that could happen.”

One commented: “New fear unlocked.”

Another said: “Talk about a plot twist.”

Mazza spoke out on Instagram after the freak injury to thank fans.

She posted: “Thank you everyone for the love & sweet messages. I’m still smiling & will be back & better.

CASINO SPECIAL – BEST CASINO BONUSES FROM £10 DEPOSITS

“That mat return though. Damn I felt good out there. So good I didn’t even feel my arm crack on her chin.”

Mazza posted a selfie from her hospital bed and posted a lengthy statement on social media.

She said: “Sometimes this sport gives you victories you can’t measure on the scoreboard.

“I controlled the match and pushed myself to get the finish, but in the battle my forearm broke with torque of the choke against her chin.

“It’s not the outcome I imagined. To say I’m heartbroken is an understatement.. but I’m so grateful ALL the love & support and sweet messages you guys.

“They’re truly lifting me higher. The fire this setback has lit inside me is unmatched.

“The journey definitely doesn’t stop here, this is just the beginning of a stronger, hungrier version of me. The comeback will be beautiful.”

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On the same day Corona Centennial was playing Mater Dei in football, the sounds of baseballs coming off aluminum bats could be heard from the Centennial batting cage. Only in sunny Southern California does baseball keep going month after month. On this occasion, the Huskies are trying to keep up in the talent-laden Big VIII League that includes powerhouses Corona and Norco.

Centennial, which finished in third place last season, has three sophomores who started and performed well as freshmen: Infielder Ethan Miller (.298 batting average), infelder Ethan Lebreton (.304) and outfielder Jesse Mendoza (.314).

It was an Ethan-to-Ethan double play combination at shortstop and second base for much of the year. All that experience hitting against the likes of Seth Hernandez and facing a Corona team that had three first-round draft picks should pay off in the spring.

One baseball player absent was the starting center fielder, Jaden Walk-Green, who was busy on the football field getting two interceptions and kicking two field goals in a 43-36 upset of Mater Dei.

“I’m everything. I’m the utility player,” Walk-Green said.

This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email [email protected].

“Sound of Freedom” distributor Angel Studios made its stock market debut Thursday as the company looks to expand its streaming service and eventually penetrate international markets.

The Provo, Utah-based firm is trading on the New York Stock Exchange under the ticker symbol ANGX. Shares of the company rose 8% to $13.

Angel Studios’ launch on the public market is the latest step in the company’s unconventional journey into the entertainment business.

Founded by brothers Neal, Daniel, Jeffrey and Jordan Harmon, the company began as VidAngel, a service that allowed viewers to sanitize Hollywood movies by erasing sex, violence and swear words. But in 2016, VidAngel was sued for copyright infringement by Walt Disney Co. and Warner Bros., who said the company’s business model — which involved purchasing thousands of DVDs and Blu-ray discs and allowing users to stream them online — was essentially piracy.

VidAngel eventually settled the case, and the Harmon brothers sold off the filtering business. The company rebranded as Angel Studios and kept its content production and crowdfunding operation.

Today, the firm operates a streaming service and releases movies theatrically, including 2023’s massively popular “Sound of Freedom,” which grossed $250 million worldwide, and the animated film “The King of Kings,” which came out in May and tells the story of Jesus. The studio focuses on what it calls “values-based storytelling,” and its slate is determined through the vote of its 1.5 million Angel Guild members, who also get free movie tickets and other perks.

“It’s really a combination of the values of a broader audience,” said Jordan Harmon, president. “If you look at movies like ‘The Sound of Music,’ or ‘Casablanca’ or ‘12 Angry Men,’ all those were broad, incredible stories that touched the lives of tens, if not hundreds, of millions of people. Those are the type of stories that we think fall right into this values-driven, light-amplifying mission.”

Though considered small for Hollywood, Angel Studios moved to become a publicly traded company because its nearly 70,000 investors required it to, said company Chief Executive Neal Harmon. The company merged with a special purpose acquisition company (or SPAC) called Southport Acquisition Corp. to go public. A SPAC is essentially a shell company that exists solely to buy a private company and take it public without the scrutiny of a traditional IPO.

“We’re turning the way that this industry works on its head,” he said. “And because we are not doing the traditional Hollywood gatekeeper thing, we also needed to access capital in an untraditional way.”

The path is far from the potato farm in Idaho where the brothers grew up, and where the nearest neighbor was a quarter-mile away. Working together on the farm — and sharing a bedroom for years — helped foster the communication and bond between the brothers, said Jeff Harmon, chief content officer.

“If you look in Hollywood, the best partnerships have all been brothers,” he said, ticking off several successful movie business sibling partnerships including the Disneys, Warners and Nolans. “When they actually work together really well, it becomes unstoppable.”

Rome Ramirez wasn’t built in a day.

He was once a guitar-strumming, teenage Sublime fan in a Mexican American household in Fremont, Calif. At 18, he moved to Los Angeles to follow his dream of making music. He swept floors, lived in his van and eventually did the impossible: He became the singer of his favorite band.

In 2009, 13 years after the death of Sublime’s founding singer-songwriter Bradley Nowell, Rome befriended Sublime’s remaining members, Bud Gaugh and Eric Wilson, and became the frontman of Sublime with Rome — playing to an established fan base in amphitheaters around the world. Behind the scenes, Rome developed a robust songwriting career of his own, cutting his teeth in the studio-session culture in L.A. and racking up credits on Enrique Iglesias and Selena Gomez songs.

Yet eventually, the band started to feel more like a job than a calling. After several lineup changes, Sublime with Rome embarked on its farewell tour in 2024. “For the majority of being in Sublime, our recording schedule was so busy,” he says. “I knew that in order to do a solo career, it takes everything from you if you want to do it right, so that was not on the mind.”

Despite being a lifelong California boy, Rome moved his family to Nashville during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. There are perks to living in America’s songwriting capital — like a slower pace of life and the ability to do “more errands per day than in L.A.,” he says with a laugh. But now, he says that he and his children are some of the only Latinos in their neighborhood.

“There [are] a lot of people who leave California,” says Rome. “They trash-talk California, but it’s just such a huge part of my identity and culture — growing up as a Mexican American in California, that Chicano culture. I will always love Los Angeles.”

After 15 years in Sublime with Rome, the 37-year-old has forged a new path as a solo artist. His sound is a West Coast cocktail of beachy reggae and hip hop-inspired grooves, specially made for summertime — like his new single “Slow & Easy,” featuring the Dirty Heads, his friends from back when he slept in his van.

It’s the first offering from his debut EP, “Gemini” — “It’s about the duality of my music, I can’t be put into a box,” he says — which is set for a Sept. 19 release. He’s also announced a slate of tour dates in the U.S., starting Sept. 17 in Destin, Fla.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Your solo career was kick-started by stepping down as the lead singer of Sublime with Rome. Was having a solo career something you had in your head for a while?
Through the course of touring with Sublime, I was really heavily involved in songwriting. I was doing all kinds of records for people I really looked up to — like Selena Gomez and Jason Derulo and Enrique Iglesias. Huge names. As a kid who grew up writing songs in his mom’s basement, this was just like a dream come true.

It wasn’t until the pandemic happened where for the first time Sublime with Rome wasn’t touring, we were at home and I started live-streaming. People were showing up in these rooms — like 500 to a thousand people. I was one of the first people in my music community who was already outfitted with cameras, ready to go in the studio. I would start with a Sublime album and go through every song on the stream. And then the next album, then the Sublime with Rome album, then I would do covers. After about like six months, I ran out of songs and people were just asking like, “Dude, do you have any music? Like, are you working on anything?” And honestly, I hadn’t worked on music for myself in so long.

I think part of that was not wanting to dig deep into traumas, [like] growing up in a household with drugs. But during the pandemic, I had time to start writing music again for fun — playing with sounds that I loved and grew up on, and starting to pull the scabs off of [wounds] that I tucked [away] in the past. After a while I had a handful of songs, and I just knew I [couldn’t] put them in the Sublime with Rome set. This thing I love to do started to feel like a job, and that is a no-go. So I asked myself, “Am I going to do Sublime with Rome for money, or am I going to really follow something that I believe in?”

We started having conversations about what the future of the band was looking like prior to our summer tour in 2023. I’m really glad that everything happened the way it did. We had a roll out for everything. I needed to trust my gut and follow through with my belief in this music and what I’m building.

“Lay Me Down” with Dirty Heads is one of your biggest songs, with nearly 120 million Spotify plays, but it came out in 2010 — much earlier than your current venture in your solo career. What’s the story behind this song?
I’m from the Bay Area, but I moved down to Los Angeles when I was 18 to go make something of myself. I was hanging around this recording studio that the Dirty Heads were just getting started at.

I was just interning, sweeping floors, [eating] cheeseburgers, that kind of thing. Everyone knew that I could write a song, and eventually, after hanging out there for so long, me and the Dirty Heads worked up a friendship. They said, “Let’s get together and write a song one day.”

So we barbecued some hot dogs and just hung out in one of the guys’ backyard with a couple of guitars on a picnic bench … and we wrote “Lay Me Down.” The song sat around for a year, but we really liked it.

They were going on tour in the van and I wasn’t doing anything — I was homeless at the time, Sublime wasn’t even a thought. They offered me to go on the road with them, so I did and played that one song with them. From there, our manager took the demo to KROQ. The song started getting played on the radio and the shows got fuller. It was such an amazing experience. It was just just by the grace of God, it like all worked out and our lives changed from that point. We cashed our first checks and bought our first cars together from that.

You collaborated with the Dirty Heads again on your recent single “Slow and Easy.” It’s your first single since you’ve gone solo. What was that process like?
It’s come full circle with my best friends again. I knew this song was special. I went into the studio with the aim of — “I want to make a summer song that feels like a Van Morrison record, but [an] Uncle Kracker [vibe]. Real simple.”

I went in with my boy, Nick Bailey, who I write a lot of music with, and we nailed that song in two hours. After I got the demo I was like, “Man, it’s so close. What if I put the Dirty Heads on it? [With] a little rap and a little melody, it would just be so different.”

They loved it. They sent me their vocals the next week and I was like, “OK, I feel like this is a good song.” Eventually some awesome promoters at radio stations heard it and they wanted to take a chance on the record.

The summer vibes are strong on “Lay Me Down” and “Slow and Easy.” What artists introduced you to this sound that’s present in everything you do?
I grew up on Motown and Bob Marley. That’s what I circled back to after I left Sublime.

As I was working on music during the pandemic, I was like, “What do I want to hear? What’s the shit that I like?” And it’s like Stevie Wonder, it’s the Supremes, it’s the Four Tops, it’s Fiona Apple, it’s Leon Bridges, it’s Van Morrison. I really like feel-good music that sonically reminds me of an older time.

I have kids now, so I’m very conscious about the message I put into the world. I’ll try to write a song that the world could benefit from hearing, but not make it a preachy song.

How would you describe the sound of Rome?
The underlying factor is soul music. When you hear soul music, you think of Teddy Pendergrass and things like that. I love soul music. [Take] Bradley’s voice in Sublime, you cannot tell me that that man wasn’t a soul singer.

That’s the music that I really gravitate to, music that just feels really honest. Reggae music [lives] in me. Jack Johnson is another huge influence. My sound is reggae and soul and pop music, for lack of better words, because I write simple-ass songs.

How do you feel like your Mexican heritage makes its way into your music? Or in how you move and how you present yourself?
Growing up Mexican shaped my whole framework for how I live my life. I don’t speak Spanish, but I grew up in two households that were fully fluent in Spanish. All my friends growing up were Mexican. [I remember] seeing Carlos Santana playing with Rob Thomas on [television] and my dad was like, “He’s mexicano right there.” Man, that was pretty sick.

Growing up in a really thick Mexican culture [meant] both my parents worked their ass off, but at the same time, family always came first. These are the kind of morals that are really instilled in Mexican culture, that I’m so proud that I have. As a family man now, those things are so prominent in my life. We take a lot of pride in what we do, we work our asses off … then when it’s time to play, we play.

What makes a good summer song?
Something that you don’t have to try too hard to listen to. There are some songs where you’re like, “All right, I need to get in the car and drive and listen to this thing, ride it out the gate.” When I envision a summer song, it’s very simple and easy to play.

People online are debating what the song of the summer is in 2025. What has been your song of the summer?
In terms of listening and all the damn content I’ve been making, it’s “Slow and Easy!” But aside from one of my own songs, probably “Golden” from “KPop Demon Hunters” because that’s what my kids are spinning. The music is shockingly good. It’s like Max Martin s—.

You’re on quite a big U.S. tour. How is it going?
It’s so sick. We just rolled out a couple dates in Florida just to test the waters and those shows are selling really good, so promoters have been adding more and more.

I’ve been to so many of these places [with Sublime], of course, but the energy’s different. I’m playing smaller spots, [connecting] with people before and after the shows. You can’t really do that in amphitheaters. I’m experiencing everything in reverse. I was homeless when I met Sublime and then I was on the tour bus. Now, it’s like we’re climbing up the ranks again.

I have such a long lineage of songs I’ve been working on and the fan base — shout out to the Romies — who’ve followed me over the years. Putting together the set list has been a celebration of the different eras of my life. I’m just having a lot of fun doing this.

MILLIONS of phones will sound a siren next week in one of the largest public safety exercises.

The national emergency alert test will take place at around 3pm on ­Sunday, September 7.

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Pat McFadden, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, said: “It will be one of the UK’s largest public safety exercises in history.”

“It is a vital tool for keeping the nation safe when lives are on the line – and every minute matters.”

Phones will vibrate and emit a siren-like tone for ten seconds, with a test message appearing on screens to make clear the alert is only a drill.

Only 4G and 5G-enabled phones and tablets will receive the alert.

The Government has used the system to issue real warnings five times, including in January during Storm Eowyn to warn people in Scotland and Northern Ireland about severe weather.

Approximately 3.5 million people across Wales and south-west England received an alert during Storm Darragh last December.

A 500kg unexploded Second World War bomb found in a Plymouth back garden triggered a warning to some 50,000 phones in February last year.

Messages can be targeted to relatively small areas to pinpoint those at risk.

Some 15,000 phones were alerted during flooding in Cumbria in May 2024, and 10,000 received a warning during flooding in Leicestershire in January this year.

The system is designed for use during the most likely emergencies to affect the UK and warnings would also be transmitted on television, radio and locally by knocking on doors.

AMAZON has just slashed the price on a pair of wireless earbuds that shoppers are loving.

Right now, the Cillso H97 Wireless Earbuds are reduced from £129.99 to just £20.99, a huge 84% saving.

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Cillso H97 Wireless Earbuds, £129.99 £20.99 on Amazon

These pocket-sized earbuds are packed with features you’d normally expect from big-name brands with triple the price tag.

The sound profile is a real crowd-pleaser, powered by 14mm drivers that deliver solid bass with oomph up to 90dB.

And thanks to ENC noise-cancelling tech, background distractions fade away, leaving you with clear music and clear calls.

While ENC isn’t quite as advanced as ANC, it is designed to make calls clearer, rather than blanketly blocking out all ambient noise.

The Cillso buds are also built for everyday life, boasting an IP7 waterproof rating that shrugs off sweat, rain and gym sessions.

You get smart touch controls to skip tracks, answer calls or adjust volume with a tap, much like pricer models from Apple.

But, unlike Apple’s offering, the Cillso H97 buds feature a dual LED display that shows exactly how much battery you have left.

Speaking of battery, these little earbuds clock in at around six to eight hours of listening per charge, with the case boosting that to a massive 40 hours, plus fast USB-C charging when it’s time to top up.

Shoppers on Amazon have been won over, with an almost-perfect 4.9-star average rating and 95% of reviewers handing them a full five stars.

One thrilled buyer wrote: “Absolutely fantastic sound! I was going to splash out on AirPods, so glad I didn’t, these are THE best headphones I’ve ever had.”

Another raved: “The sound quality is excellent, clear, crisp audio with surprisingly deep bass for earbuds in this price range.

The same shopper continued, “The noise-cancelling feature works really well, blocking out background noise during calls and when listening to music.”

A third said: “The battery display counted down remaining hours and achieved a full day of playback before recharge.”

With feedback like that, it’s no wonder these are quickly becoming one of Amazon’s most popular budget audio buys.

The Cillso Wireless Earbuds are still in stock at the time of writing, but at £20.99, it’s easy to see why shoppers are snapping them up.

I’ve also spotted a few other Amazon steals this month that are well worth a look.

Another pair of noise-cancelling headphones dropped to just £22, with shoppers calling them “better than Apple”.

And for those chasing power, Amazon fans love this “incredibly fast-charging” £140 power bank, now only £26.

To see how the Cillso model stacks up against the big names, check out my tried-and-tested guide to the best noise-cancelling headphones.

Cillso H97 Wireless Earbuds, £129.99 £20.99 on Amazon

The summer rain in Mexico City has been driving Meme del Real crazy. “This season of permanent torrential downpour gets to a point where you’re like, ‘Enough,’ he says with a sigh. “There’s people who really enjoy it, but I’m done. It’s too much introspection to be in here all day, to not be able to go outside. It forces you to try other things, to find a conversation within that rather than a resistance.”

Surrender has been a big theme lately in the life of the longtime vocalist and keyboardist of legendary Mexican alt-rock group Café Tacvba. Del Real — a Swiss Army Knife of a musician who has produced for the likes of Julieta Venegas and Natalia Lafourcade, among others — has been unpacking his life after a recent move back to the Mexican capital, after five years in the idyllic Valle de Bravo. About two hours away from CDMX, the lakeside town became his district of solitude.

It was in this escape from city life that the singer-songwriter was able to be quiet enough to tap into something beyond himself. With his own studio, a broad space overlooking a forest, he had the mental space to look inward. Perhaps more importantly, he gave himself permission to welcome the inspiration that arrived without him seeking it.

“It’s not that I went to this place and said, ‘OK, now I’m going to find inspiration.’ It was more of a tension within myself that naturally unraveled,” says Meme of his “Walden” moment. “From that exercise of exploring old songs and ideas in process, something started to bloom within me in a way that had never happened before. It was a moment that invited me into a solitary process that I hadn’t undertaken with any formality or intention. If these songs have anything to do with where I was physically at the time, I do think that distance I had from everything manifested itself as music.”

The songs on Del Real’s first solo album — the title yet to be revealed — plumb the depths of silence and sonic expansion. He is unpretentious in his experiments and unafraid to get playful. “Tumbos” is a warbling electronic love song intercepted at times by plinking bachata strings. Del Real swelters on futuristic bolero “Incomprensible,” which takes the old-school Cuban torch-song genre and pitches its emblematic guitar to psychedelic new heights. Atmosphere is everything here: Two of the soon-to-be-released tracks border on ambient, zeroing in on the sounds of church bells and chirping birds and the expansive feeling of mushrooms blooming across a forest floor.

These little mountains of fire blaze with a gentle heat emanating from Del Real’s voice. Die-hards and casual fans of Café Tacvba have heard “Eres” at least in passing, a smash from the group’s 2003 album, “Cuatro Caminos,” that features Del Real on lead vocals. He’s still singing about love: Careening norteña-inspired “Embeces” sees Del Real’s voice soar over warbled trumpets, and lead single “Princesa” layers cinematic orchestration with trip-hop beats and sweltering lyrics about failed promises and proclamations of loyalty.

For those who can’t get enough, Del Real is set to preview some of the new music with a special performance on Sept. 2 at the Grammy Museum.

“These songs arrived, and I couldn’t look the other way. It was an instinct that was stronger than me, a now-or-never moment,” says Del Real. “I’ve found that every unknown and every challenge has left me with a lesson. When I’m onstage [with Café Tacvba], I play and sing, but I also love to dance and express myself with my body. Before we can play, when we’re children, we hear a rhythm and dance. It doesn’t matter if you look ridiculous, but you made something. It’s better to make a fool of yourself and experiment rather than not live what you’re feeling.”

De Los spoke with Del Real over Zoom from Mexico City as he’s settling into a number of beginnings: a new home, a new daily rhythm and his first solo project, which is out next month.

There are so many places where artists go to isolate and channel, but you weren’t looking for that at all. Listening to the album, I heard the parallels between the songs and the space that natural environments bring. There are two tracks that border on ambient, focusing on the sounds of a church bell and a small sound that grows into an encompassing roar.
The creative act is intuitive and spontaneous, and I think it makes a symmetry with the cycles and forms of nature. Having such a tangible way to witness creation left a deep impression on me, to be in such an exuberant forest coexisting with so much.

How was making this solo record different from making a Café Tacvba record?
I have a certain experience of creation with the band — of making an album, a project, a video, a tour, a spectacle — but these songs manifested themselves almost like they rose out of the floor to meet me. At my old house, the studio I made was surrounded by a massive forest. I really felt like I was yet another element of nature in that cycle of life that I had to live there. Something bloomed in that moment for me. More than the result, the experience itself for me was its own project, and it’s been so personally valuable to me that anything that comes of that is a consequence, an extra gift. The process was transformative, like nature itself, something that couldn’t be controlled or manipulated.

I love that you describe the songs as arriving; that’s very different than creating with the intention of connecting to a muse. To your point about movement, there’s so much of it here: bachata, cumbia, electronic music … so much to dance to.
Everything you describe came about very organically. My dad was a musician, and he devoted his life to music. At home, my mom and dad and siblings and I all grew up hearing a lot of music across genres. I got very familiar. Watching my dad [on the trumpet] with his orchestra play at parties, specifically all of these formal Latin American genres to dance to …

When I started making the songs, the genres rose out pretty organically. If it came out sounding like Ministry or a norteña or a bolero or disco or punk, then that’s what it was. If creating doesn’t have that playful factor, if it doesn’t translate honesty, then it becomes so intellectualized. I think it’s a balance between spontaneity, a game between the organic, the intellectual, the conceptual. When I listened to all the songs, I really didn’t know if it was an album. I approached Gustavo Santaolalla [Godfather of Latin rock] to get his feedback, and that’s when it became clear to me that something was happening.

The songs were there, as I built them there in this place I described to you, like beyond just composing on guitar, piano and making a demo, it was like, “Well, what if I add something else?” I started experimenting, and before I knew it, there were already quite robust and complex arrangements in most of them. But another thing is that, when I [would] bring a demo to [Café Tacvba], I [would] sing it, and that [was] it. But in this case, the same thing. Gustavo told me, “Hey, one of the things that’s interesting is the way you’re singing … What’s happening on a vocal level, that seems to me to be revealing a very clear picture of you at this moment.” So, nothing, it stayed that way.

When I was trying to find the throughline here, I was thinking about the subject matter: There’s a lot of love and yearning here. Would you consider yourself a romantic?
Based on some interviews I’ve been doing, they haven’t asked me this question, but the term “romantic” has come up. And it’s not that I’ve thought about it or assumed it, but I think that if romantic means, in my case, finding a translation of what I feel and what I reflect on and resonating well with it, then yes.

I’ve also found myself — who hasn’t in these times? — being attentive and reflecting on the issues that are happening around the world, all the horrors of certain situations and in certain regions. But I definitely find that there is beauty in human relationships or in personal relationships, in relationships with your personal, universal, cosmic or internal ecosystem, with paradoxes, with what is opposed. I don’t know if that’s romantic, but that’s it. Even at the end of the world, in the midst of so much horror, love and beauty are the things that give us the desire to want to go on, right?

This album is so sonically forward-thinking, and I’d say it’s aligned to the current zeitgeist of genre mixing. Where do you situate it?
I am also very attracted to the way in which I don’t understand much of what is happening with these new generations and all the music, all the art and creation that is taking place. It seems that, as in other eras, attention was focused on the situations that were happening around them, socially and politically, and there was a lot of talk about it and criticism was made. Today, it seems that this generation is not observing that, but I have discovered in my theory that discourse is more powerful precisely because it is not talked about directly, but rather it is talked about as, “I am going to have a good time and enjoy it because this is coming to an end … I have no choice but to take what I have and what I can do and what I can experience with my gang, with my people, and with this global digital community.”

I find that very powerful and very sad at the same time. I mean, it’s very sad to think that there is a generation that sees the world as ending. That’s my take on it — that there’s little hope, that everything is so complex that it’s better not to look at that. “Just look at what’s in front of me, because I’m young and because if I don’t take advantage of my youth to have a good time right now, I don’t know if I’ll make it to the next stage. Or I don’t see how.”

In our time, at least in my time, I think there was more. The outlook was clearer. You could see further ahead.

This interview was conducted in Spanish, translated, edited and condensed for clarity.

THE early signs of cancer could be detected by listening to a patient’s voice, scientists say.

Using AI, subtle changes in the acoustics of a person’s voice helped pick up lesions in people diagnosed with voice box cancer.

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Researchers believe AI could be trained to hear these changes within a “couple of years”.

There are around 2,000 new cases of voice box (laryngeal) cancer in the UK each year.

A hoarse voice for more than three weeks can be a key symptom, and should be investigated by a GP.

Using AI for diagnosis could spell the end of uncomfortable tests currently used, such as a biopsy or nasendoscopy, in which a thin tube with a video camera is passed through the nose down the back of the throat.

The American team, part of the ‘Bridge2AI-Voice’ project, gathered voice recordings of 300 patients, some of whom had voice box cancer.

They studied at least six features of voice acoustics: the mean fundamental frequency (pitch); jitter, variation in pitch within speech; shimmer, variation of the amplitude; and the harmonic-to-noise ratio.

There were “marked” differences between men with and without cancer or a voice box disorder, such as nodules or polyps, specifically the harmonic-to-noise ratio, according to the findings published in the journal Frontiers in Digital Health.

It’s possible the same will be found for women with a larger dataset.

One of the study’s authors, Dr Phillip Jenkins, of Oregon Health & Science University, said: “To move from this study to an AI tool that recognises vocal fold lesions, we would train models using an even larger dataset of voice recordings, labelled by professionals.

“We then need to test the system to make sure it works equally well for women and men.

“Voice-based health tools are already being piloted.

“I estimate that with larger datasets and clinical validation, similar tools to detect vocal fold lesions might enter pilot testing in the next couple of years.”

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The symptoms of voice box cancer

Cancer Research UK have said there are four key symptoms of laryngeal cancer to look out for:

It’s a summery, late-afternoon Saturday on the backyard lawn of LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes, with the kind of warmth and variety of sounds, sights and smells that have defined weekends in many Los Angeles neighborhoods for generations. This one happens to be for a KCRW Summer Nights event headlined by East L.A. soul revivalists the Altons, but the blend of demographics, cultures and backgrounds on display gives it an authentically local feel that could be mistaken for an informal block party in any decade — except perhaps for the screen printer creating band merch and a design of Snoopy humping an ice cube with an expletive about Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

That same blend of history and cultures that has brought Los Angeles together across generations is also what’s given the Altons their signature sound and made them one of the city’s latest breakout stars. When they go on tour and bring their unique blend of soulful “oldies,” modern rock and bilingual R&B around the world, they aren’t just sharing their music but also their culture.

“On any given weekend, you can have some party down the street playing cumbia or music that your parents grew up on, their next door neighbor might have a punk rock show, and another guy down the street that’s just listening to oldies and Art Laboe,” vocalist and guitarist Bryan Ponce explains about the roots of the Altons’ diverse sound stemming from their collective Los Angeles childhoods. “We all grew up on all of this music that we’d hear in our neighborhoods, so all of our influences just came together and came out in our music.”

The Altons members Adriana Flores, Caitlin Moss, Bryan Ponce and Joseph Quinones perform at LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes on June 28.

(Brian Feinzimer / For The Times)

For a band that started with modest expectations nearly a decade ago, the Altons now find themselves heading out on international tours and playing to thousands of people at a time — as they will Saturday when they rock the Oldies 2 Souldies show with Los Lonely Boys at the Greek Theatre. And while their rise has been more of a gradual incline than anything particularly stratospheric, they’ve carved their own path without compromise. They’re willing to fuse genres, languages, tempos and sounds as they see fit and based on what they feel will work best for the songs and messages they’re wanting to deliver instead of catering to what may be popular in the moment, a choice that’s made them the face of the “oldies revival” now that millennials and Gen Z are falling back in love with tunes from their grandparents’ day.

“It’s incredible to play a show where a grandmother’s there with her daughter and grandkids, and just have multiple generations of people come together,” vocalist Adriana Flores says. “There’s not a lot of shows that I would even take my dad to, so I think it makes the music even more special and I’d like to be one of the bands shedding the light on what’s been happening in L.A. We’ve been doing it for years and just sharing the types of music we like — which is the retro sound of soul mixed with other elements. We like to show people what’s been happening in L.A. that’s not just Hollywood.”

The Altons’ Adriana Flores and Bryan Ponce perform at LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes in late June.

(Brian Feinzimer / For The Times)

That desire to show the “real” L.A. that they know and love is a driving force for the Altons, particularly as they go further and further from home. All of them — Flores and Ponce along with Joseph Quinones on guitar/backup vocals, Chris Manjarrez on bass, Christian “Elyzr” Meraz on keyboards and drummer Caitlin Moss — are proud to represent their East L.A. roots for those who only see the California that gets presented on television. The group eagerly reminisces about a fan they met at a show in France who had never set foot in California but loved the culture so much that he dressed the part of a classic cholo. “He looked like he could have been related to me or went to school with me,” Ponce says with a laugh. “He was bald, he had the Locs on, the Pendleton on and he was screaming our neighborhoods.” They recall the times they’ve felt like cultural ambassadors bringing their hometown heritage to cities like Boston.

But the self-placed weight of representing and sharing their lifelong culture isn’t always all fun and games. Just a matter of weeks before they were walking through the halls of LA Plaza’s museum to see their brand-new exhibition on the importance of East L.A. musicians, they were on tour in the U.K. feeling helpless as they watched the ICE raids and protests flood the city.

Bryan Ponce and Adriana Flores onstage at LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes.

(Brian Feinzimer / For The Times)

“You couldn’t really grasp what was going on,” Ponce says. “I would watch videos and see stuff online, but I didn’t really see it until we came home for a couple of days before we left again. [Manjarrez] and I live close to each other, and we started seeing videos of all these places and stores and people in our community. It was just devastating to have to leave again and see that they’re getting even closer to your house and seeing it happening on your street. You’re trying to go and play music to entertain people, but you’re also trying to find a balance. It’s like ‘Are we going to speak on what’s going on?’ Because some people thought that L.A. was burning down, and that’s not really the case.”

“Watching the community go through something so heartbreaking while being away was really difficult,” Flores adds. “It was really tough seeing our community being targeted, but I’d like to believe that music and being creative and spreading joy is a form of resistance. I hope that people can come to our shows and escape. Even though this is way bigger than us, we have to use our platform to be vocal about what’s going on. It’s scary times, but another scary time was the ‘60s when the whole civil rights movement was happening, and some of the best music came out of that because people were finding that outlet and creating.”

Felix Baumgartner lived to leap, becoming the first person to fall faster than the speed of sound during a 24-mile skydiving adventure through the stratosphere in 2012.

On Thursday, the Austrian daredevil died at age 56 while engaged in a far less intense activity, crashing into the side of a hotel swimming pool while paragliding in Porto Sant Elpidio, a town on central Italy’s eastern coast.

According to Sky Austria, he became ill before the crash. A hotel employee was hospitalized after sustaining injuries in the accident, the report stated.

“Our community is deeply affected by the tragic disappearance of Felix Baumgartner, a figure of global prominence, a symbol of courage and passion for extreme flight,” Porto Sant Elpidio mayor Massimiliano Ciarpella said on Facebook.

Felix Baumgartner jumps out of the capsule during Red Bull Stratos on October 14, 2012.

(Red Bull Stratos/Red Bull via AP Images)

The man known as “Fearless Felix” made history 13 years ago when he parachuted down to a landing near Roswell, N.M., after being lifted 24 miles above Earth into the stratosphere in a capsule carried by a helium balloon. He set a record for fastest free fall, descending 127,852 feet at 843.6 mph and becoming the first human to break the sound barrier without the assistance of a vehicle.

As he exited his capsule and jumped into air that was 70 degrees below zero, Baumgartner gave a thumbs-up to onlookers watching a live stream online. He activated his parachute as he neared the ground.

“When I was standing there on top of the world, you become so humble, you do not think about breaking records anymore, you do not think of about gaining scientific data. The only thing you want is to come back alive,” he said after landing safely.

“Sometimes we have to get really high to see how small we are.”

Baumgartner’s altitude record stood for two years until Google executive Alan Eustace set new marks for the highest free-fall jump and greatest free-fall distance.

A former Austrian military parachutist, Baumgartner made numerous jumps from airplanes, skyscrapers and bridges. He also leaped from famed landmarks, including the Christ the Redeemer statue at the summit of Mount Corcovado in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

He once flew across the English Channel in a carbon fiber wing after being dropped from a plane. The daredevil also performed as a helicopter stunt pilot in shows across Europe.

Baumgartner died while engaged in a more prosaic activity. Paragliders are lightweight, free-flying, foot-launched aircraft primarily used for recreation. The pilot sits suspended below a fabric wing.

In a statement to Fox News Digital, a representative for Baumgartner’s longtime sponsor Red Bull said, “We are shocked and overwhelmed with sadness to hear the devastating news of our longtime friend Felix Baumgartner.

“Felix was ‘born to fly’ and was determined to push the limits. He was also smart, professional, thorough and meticulous, never leaving anything to chance. He was generous, giving much of his time to help and inspiring so many people.

“We remember Felix as a lovely person, devoted to his family and friends, to whom we send our heartfelt sympathy. Felix, you will be deeply missed.”

In an interview with Red Bull years ago, Baumgartner addressed his meticulous preparation before taking flight.

“We had a very long list of ‘what ifs,’ in other words eventualities that could happen and how we would deal with them in an emergency,” he said. “The list kept getting longer and longer. I was only afraid of the things that were not on the list, the things we had not thought of. To this day, I abort missions if the conditions are not right.”

For much of the first 30-plus years of its existence, hardcore music was, for the most part, predictable. While there were outliers such as Bad Brains and Orange 9mm, many acts never veeredfar from the sound set in place by bands like Minor Threat in the early 1980s. Subgenres like metalcore (and other styles of music with “core” added) blossomed into their own scenes and sounds, but the central tenets of hardcore remained fairly constant — often with hordes of angry fans deriding anything that stepped too far in one way or another.

But over the last five to 10 years, the latest generation of musicians from punk rock’s slightly more aggressive cousin has expanded into new sonic territory. Bands like Baltimore’s Turnstile, Kentucky’s Knocked Loose and Santa Cruz’s Scowl have pushed the genre in new directions — gaining acclaim and popularity outside the hardcore scene, sometimes at the expense of its die-hard fans.

“It’s very awesome to be a part of that wave,” Knocked Loose vocalist Bryan Garris says. “I think there are a lot of bands that are bringing in new things and opening a lot of doors for everybody else. It’s like the generic saying, ‘A rising tide raises all ships.’ I truly believe there’s room for everybody to win, so it feels really good that all these brand-new opportunities are opening for everyone. You see younger hardcore bands really going for it right off the bat, and we’re very fortunate to be a part of the era that’s taking it to new heights.”

That’s why it’s only fitting for Knocked Loose to be headlining this weekend’s Sound and Fury Festival, bringing two full days of the best modern hardcore to Exposition Park. Since its inception in 2006, Sound and Fury quickly established itself as the event for hardcore and hardcore-adjacent music (from the heavier side of emo bands like Anxious to more extreme, metal-leaning acts) first in Los Angeles and then across the country. Just as the festival’s lineup and footprint has expanded both in size and musical variety over the years, Knocked Loose has seen its own popularity skyrocket as the band has continued to push the boundaries of what hardcore could be.

“From a sonic perspective, all these bands bringing in new influences to hardcore was pretty polarizing at first,” Garris says. “You had all these bands that toured and participated in the hardcore world but didn’t sound like a traditional hardcore band — and people really made that extremely controversial for an annoying amount of time. Once that barrier was broken, it allowed for so many unique artists and bands to bring new things to the table. Bills and touring packages became more diverse, and I think the coolest thing is when you put a tour package together that makes sense on paper but sonically makes no sense at all. It keeps things interesting and doesn’t create such a monotonous atmosphere at a show.”

Kentucky hardcore band Knocked Loose headlines this year’s Sound and Fury Festival

(Brock Fetch)

For Knocked Loose, one of the biggest steps outside of “traditional hardcore” it could possibly take was collaborating with pop-turned-metal artist Poppy on last year’s “Suffocate” — a gamble that paid off handsomely, introducing the band to a whole new audience and earning the group its highest-charting single and a Grammy nomination for metal performance. It’s a track that Garris still considers “definitely one of [his] favorite songs” while also allowing the band to get “weirder” and experiment in ways it might not normally consider.

While the band is already considering how it can continue to push the envelope even further without losing what makes Knocked Loose work at its core, the group is mindful of its history in the hardcore scene both as fans and artists. No scene is quicker to disown an act for its commercial success, and Garris (along with guitarists Isaac Hale and Nicko Calderon, bassist Kevin Otten and drummer Kevin Kaine) is fully aware of the line the band walks.

“We’ve never been writing a song and felt like we had to check in with how [hardcore fans] would feel about it, but when it comes to how we present the band, that’s where we keep hardcore in mind,” Garris says. “That’s where we come from and what we’re used to. Even though we know the band is obviously not going to be playing crazy small DIY, no-barricade hardcore shows anymore, it allowed us to create an experience on a much bigger stage. Then we do things like play Sound and Fury or put hardcore bands that we like on our bills because we still feel very passionately about these things. We’re very fortunate to be able to play these massive shows and have conversations about [pyrotechnics] and lights, but we’re still hardcore fans and that’s never changed.”

With acts like Knocked Loose, Scowl and England’s Basement on the bill this year, Sound and Fury continues to show why it’s arguably America’s preeminent hardcore festival, bringing together dozens of rising bands with just enough nostalgia acts (such as this year’s Forced Order reunion and Poison the Well) to remind the younger generations of those who came before. It’s a lineup you won’t see anywhere else, with a DIY hardcore vibe that fit just as well when hardcore fans and artists Sean Riley, Robert Shedd and Todd Jones held their initial event at the Alpine in Ventura 19 years ago.

“There are a lot of festivals in the mainstream rock atmosphere where the lineups are essentially the same,” Garris says. “For example, two years ago or so, every major rock fest in America was headlined by Metallica. That’s no diss at all, but Sound and Fury is such a different thing and the lineups feel so organic and exciting. They’re very good about scratching an itch that you didn’t know you had.”

“I think [hardcore fans] are seeking more context than what they’re getting from the mainstream — and since most of the people here arrive through that filter, it makes for a very open and welcoming space,” Riley adds. “So whether it’s being straightedge and eschewing drugs and alcohol, or whether you are someone who likes wearing corpse paint in public, or you’re a person who likes to dance at shows, this is a place you can come and be yourself without judgment. Combine that with hardcore shows being, in my opinion, the rawest form of live-music experiences you can find, it’s a freeing experience.”

Although Riley is the only one of the three original founders still working on Sound and Fury — currently teamed with Martin Stewart and Madison Woodward — he’s made sure to keep it as true to the hardcore ethos as possible year after year. Despite numerous venue changes and growth that many corporate festivals could only wish to have, Sound and Fury today is as instrumental to and beloved by the hardcore scene in Los Angeles and beyond as it’s ever been. It’s found a way to speak to multiple generations of hardcore kids (and adults), and now some of its biggest fans are the ones onstage.

“[Sound and Fury] has never been our ‘day job,’ but more of something we do in our off time that can hopefully inspire people — knowing how empowering and meaningful this DIY world has been for us and our lives outside of this music scene,” Riley says. “We’ve seen attendees start bands that play the fest, put out zines that they sell at the fest, start businesses or become food vendors that operate at the fest, and even people who now help us run the fest and have actual ownership stakes in the festival. Seeing it grow year after year in a very organic way really validates our approach and hopefully means it’s serving its purpose.”

“When we were preparing our year, [Sound and Fury] was one of my most anticipated shows of the year because I am such a fan of the festival,” Garris adds. “I’ve gotten to watch the festival grow from a fan’s perspective, and I remember going to the fest when it was like 1,000 people total. To see what it is now is amazing. It’s setting the bar for hardcore every single year and taking it to new places, because it was never supposed to be that big. The people that put it together care so much to protect the festival and to scale it to these unimaginable places — all while keeping it feeling DIY and like a hardcore festival. We’re just so excited to be a part of it.”

Or, as Scowl vocalist Kat Moss put it, “I would argue Sound and Fury is the best hardcore festival ever.”

As the manager of Guns N’ Roses during the band’s debauched heyday, Alan Niven has no shortage of colorful stories.

The LAPD fetching Axl Rose from his West Hollywood condo and bringing him directly to the stage so Guns N’ Roses could open for the Rolling Stones at the L.A. Coliseum.

Slash going off script and taking a Winnebago for a joyride — and then standing in rush hour traffic and brandishing a bottle of Jack Daniels — while filming the “Welcome to the Jungle” music video.

Guitarist Izzy Stradlin carrying a $750,000 cashier’s check that Niven had to take from him and hide in his own shoe for safekeeping during a raucous trip to New Orleans.

About 15 minutes into a thoughtful Zoom conversation, the garrulous Niven poses a question of his own: “Why was I managing Guns N’ Roses?”

Given what he describes, it is a good question.

“Because nobody else would do it,” he says, noting that the band’s former management firm “could not get away fast enough” from the group. “No one else would deal with them. Literally, I was not bottom of the barrel, darling — I was underneath the barrel. It was desperation.”

Case in point: his very first Guns N’ Roses band meeting. On the way into the house, Niven says, he passed by a broken toilet and “one of the better-known strippers from [the] Sunset Strip.” Stradlin and Slash were the only ones who’d shown up. Once the meeting started, Stradlin nodded out at the table and Slash fed “a little white bunny rabbit” to a massive pet python.

“And I’m sitting there going, ‘Keep your cool. This may be a test. Just go with it and get through it.’ But that was my first GNR meeting.”

These kinds of stranger-than-fiction anecdotes dominate Niven’s wildly entertaining (and occasionally jaw-dropping) new book, “Sound N’ Fury: Rock N’ Roll Stories.” With brutal honesty and vivid imagery, he describes the challenges of wrangling Guns N’ Roses before and after the band’s 1987 debut, “Appetite for Destruction.” These include mundane business matters (like shooting music videos on a budget) and more stressful moments, such as navigating Rose’s mercurial moods and ensuring that band members didn’t take drugs on international flights.

But “Sound N’ Fury” also focuses extensively on Niven’s time managing the bluesy hard rock band Great White, whose lead singer, the late Jack Russell, had his own struggles with severe addiction. To complicate the entanglement, Niven also produced and co-wrote dozens of the band’s songs, including hits “Rock Me” and “House of Broken Love.”

Niven mixes delightful bits of insider gossip into these harrowing moments: firing for bad behavior future superstar director Michael Bay from filming Great White’s “Call It Rock ’n’ Roll” music video; Berlin’s Terri Nunn sending President Reagan an 8-by-10 photo with a saucy message; clandestinely buying Ozzy Osbourne drinks on an airplane behind Sharon Osbourne’s back.

And his lifelong passion for championing promising artists also comes through, including his recent advocacy for guitarist Chris Buck of Cardinal Black.

Unsurprisingly, Niven says people had been asking him for “decades” to write a book (“If I had $1 for every time somebody asked me that, I’d be living in a castle in Scotland”). He resisted because of his disdain for rock ‘n’ roll books: “To me, they all have the same story arc and only the names change.”

A magazine editor paid him such a huge compliment that he finally felt compelled to write one.

“He said, ‘I wish I could write like you,’ ” Niven says. “When he said that, it put an obligation on me that I couldn’t shake. Now I had to be intelligent about it and go, ‘Well, you hate rock ‘n’ roll books, so what are you going to do?’ ”

Niven’s solution was to eschew the “usual boring, chronological history” and structure “Sound N’ Fury” more like a collection of vignettes, all told with his usual dry sense of humor and razor-sharp wit.

“If you tell the stories well enough, they might be illuminating,” he says. “I saw it more as a record than I did a book. And you hope that somebody will drop the needle in at the beginning of the record and stay with the record until it’s over.

“For me, dialogue was key — and, fortunately, they were all more f— up than I was,” he adds. “So my memory of the dialogue is pretty good. … There’s some dialogue exchanges in there that imprinted themselves for as long as I live.”

One of the artists that doesn’t get much ink in “Sound N’ Fury” is another group known for its hedonistic rock ‘n’ roll behavior, Mötley Crüe.

“The fact that people are still interested in what you’ve got to say about things that happened 30 years ago is almost unimaginable,” Alan Niven says.

(ECW Press)

Niven promoted and facilitated distribution of the independent release of the band’s 1981 debut, “Too Fast for Love” and helped connect Mötley Crüe with Elektra Records. He doesn’t mince words in the book or in conversation about the band, saying he feels “very ambivalent about the small role I played in the progression of Mötley Crüe because I know who they are. I know what they’ve done to various people. I know how they’ve treated certain numbers of women. And I am not proud of contributing to that.

“And on top of that, someone needs to turn around and say, ‘It’s a thin catalog that they produced,’ in terms of what they produced as music,” he continues. “There’s not much there and it’s certainly not intellectually or spiritually illuminating in any way, shape or form. They are brutish entertainers, and that’s it.”

Still, Niven says he didn’t hesitate to include the stories that he did in “Sound N’ Fury,” and by explanation notes a conversation he had with journalist Mick Wall.

“He sent me an email the other day saying, ‘Welcome to the club of authors,’ ” he recalls. “And I’m going, ‘Yeah, right. You’ve been doing it all your life. I’m just an enthusiastic amateur.’ And he said, ‘Welcome to the club — and by the way, it’s cursed.’”

Niven pondered what that meant. “A little light bulb went on in my head, and I went, ‘Ah, yes, the curse is truth,’ because a lot of people don’t want to hear the truth and don’t want to hear what truly happened.

“There are people in the Axl cult who won’t be happy. There will be one or two other people who won’t be happy, but there’s no point in recording anything unless it’s got a truth to it.”

Niven says when the book was done, he didn’t necessarily gain any surprising insights or new perspectives on what he had documented.

“The fact that people are still interested in what you’ve got to say about things that happened 30 years ago is almost unimaginable,” he says. “I never used to do interviews back in the day. But at this point, it would just be graceless and rank bad manners not to respond.

“Occasionally people go, ‘Oh, he’s bitter,’” Niven continues. “No, I am not. I don’t think the book comes off as bitter. Many times I’ve said it was actually a privilege to go through that period of time because I didn’t have to spend my life saying to myself, ‘I wonder what it would have been like to have had a No. 1. To have had a successful band.’ Well, I found out firsthand.”

Niven stresses firmly that management was more than a job to him.

“It was my way of life,” he says. “People who go into management and think it’s a job that starts maybe at about half past 10 in the morning once you’ve had your coffee and then you check out at six, they’re not true managers.

“They’re not in management for the right reasons,” he adds. “Rock ‘n’ roll is a way of f— life. It’s 24/7, 365. And that was my approach to it.”

THE opening ceremony at Glastonbury has been branded a flop by disappointed festival-goers.

Disgruntled revellers called out a fireworks display and criticized sound issues at the iconic event in Somerset this evening.

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One festival goer told The Sun: “The opening ceremony started 10 minutes late, there was a huge choir on stage that no one could hear.

“All we could hear was the sound of a couple of drums.

“It was a massive fireworks display with no music, the whole silence lasted 30 minutes.”

And their comments were echoed by fellow visitors, one fuming reveller penned on X: “Not good from a sound standpoint. I think you have let the performers down here to say the least.”

“Sack the sound guy,” wrote another.

A third agreed: “Is there meant to be no sound at the #Glastonbury2025 opening ceremony? Local regs? Crowds a bit restless at the back.”

“Where’s the sound? Kicked out of Greenpeace for crowds. No sound and lost audience at opening ceremony. Get it together,” posted someone else.

One fuming ticket-holder slammed: “No sound. Can’t hear anything. Underwhelming.”

The Sun contacted Glastonbury for comment.

It comes as thousands arrived to set up camp for the first day of Glastonbury today.

But revellers at the festival in Worthy Farm, Somerset, faced a drenching – after the Met Office forecast rain and thunderstorms.

However, temperatures are set to soar by the weekend, with highs of 30C.

Although it could be a messy start to the festival, with its 1,500 acres of farmland turning into a mud bath in previous years.

While the festival is best known for its music, revellers can enjoy the range of stalls, set up their tents and explore the grounds in the meantime before the main performances kick off on Friday.

Opening headliner The 1975 take to the stage at 10pm, while acts such as Neil Young and the Chrome Hearts, Charli XCX, and Doechii will perform on Saturday.

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Sunday is due to see Rod Stewart gracing his fans – with Lewis Capaldi also set to make a sensational return to music.

The singer will be dropping his comeback single at the festival.

The release, Lewis’ first since he put out Strangers and A Cure For Minds Unwell in January last year, coincides with his secret set on the Pyramid Stage at Glasto.

As the gates to Worthy Farm opened to let the first of this year’s revellers through, a source said: “Lewis took a decent chunk of time away and now he’s ready for his fans to hear what he has been working on.

“Tomorrow is a huge day for him. He will be releasing a brand new single and it is his Pyramid Stage performance. He is in a great place and feels ready to come back into the spotlight.”

Lewis’ last performance at Glastonbury on that very stage in 2023 ended in tears, with the Someone You Loved star breaking down before cutting the set short.

However, Amyle and the Sniffers’ upcoming set is still hanging in the balance after illness swept through the band and their team.

The Aussie rockers were forced to cancel their Vienna gig on Monday after two band members and a crew member came down with “a very nasty virus”.

And it comes just days before they’re due to hit the stage at Worthy Farm.

Meanwhile, a huge US popstar has hinted that they’re the secret act ‘Patchwork’ at the festival.

Ever since organisers revealed the full line-up and stage times for Glasto, revellers have been trying to work out who the mysterious act is.

At the beginning of the month, Glastonbury organisers shared the complete schedule.

However, there are still several ‘TBA’ slots that hint at secret sets on the Pyramid Stage and beyond.

Now fans have a brand new theory about who could make a surprise appearance at the legendary festival.

On the 2025 Glastonbury schedule, the Saturday 6.15pm slot has a mysterious act called “Patchwork” pencilled in, and fans have been trying to work out what it means.

Now fans are convinced that Chappell Roan is “Patchwork” after she posted a telling clue on Instagram.

It came after the Pink Pony Club star shared a picture of herself holding a patchwork quilt, and wrote next to it: “Insane vibe.”

Glastonbury 2025 – confirmed acts so far

TICKETS to the 2025 festival sold out in just minutes before some of the acts were even confirmed. Here is who has been confirmed so far.

Confirmed headliners:

• The 1975 will take to the Pyramid Stage on Friday.
• Neil Young will headline the festival for the second time after his last set in 2009 on Saturday after RAYE makes her return.
• Charli xcx will headline the Other Stage on Saturday night.
• On Sunday, Olivia Rodrigo is due to belt out her hits for her first appearance while Rod Stewart will perform in the legends slot.
• More acts to appear on the Other Stage include Loyle Carner and The Prodigy.
• Doechii will make her Glastonbury debut on the West Holts Stage on Saturday night.
• Other names confirmed include Noah Kahan, Alanis Morissette, Gracie Abrams, Busta Rhymes, Lola Young, Brandi Carlile, Myles Smith, En Vogue, Amaarae, Cymande, Shaboozey, Osees and Gary Numan.

In the latest episode of The Envelope video podcast, Janelle James discusses her character’s arc on “Abbott Elementary,” and Aaron Pierre details the training required to master the “seamless” action of “Rebel Ridge.”

Kelvin Washington: Hey, everybody, and welcome to The Envelope. I’m Kelvin Washington alongside Yvonne Villarreal, also Mark Olsen. Great to have you two here this week, as usual.

Let’s get to it. Yvonne, someone I’ve never met, but I’m gonna be saddened if she’s not as pleasant or just as fun and hip as she seems: Janelle James. It just feels like I know her, even though I don’t. Tell me about your experience.

Villarreal: I have to tell you, I was super nervous that she was going to hit me with some one-liners about my appearance or something.

Washington: She’s got zingers.

Villarreal: No, but she was super lovely. She plays the blunt and hilarious principal, Ava Coleman, in “Abbott Elementary.” And she’s done an amazing job in that role, because she’s already been nominated three times for an Emmy. But Season 4 brought a lot of depth to this seemingly incompetent and uncaring character. We really see how she [goes] to bat for the students at the school, maybe in some unorthodox ways, but in ways that really help them. We also see a little bit of her relationship with her father. She also develops a relationship of her own, a romantic relationship. And — spoiler alert, I’m giving you guys time to dial down the volume —

Washington: Just hit the little 15-second thing or something.

Villarreal: Her character was fired this season. And I’ll just leave it at that. But we talked a little bit about all of that, all the development that we saw from her character this season.

Washington: Spoiler alert.

Villarreal: Sorry, I’m telling you, you gotta keep up, Kelvin.

Washington: Why is it me? I’m just saying it could be someone listening. Mark, I swing over to you and …

Olsen: I didn’t know she got fired.

Washington: Aaron Pierre. Let’s just say the three Washington girls in my household, my daughters, including my 3-year-old, “Aaron Pierre!” I mean, they had to do the whole, “That’s Mu-fa-sa!” for about a good month and a half.

Villarreal: Is that how you started the interview?

Olsen: I mean, we did talk about Mufasa, but I didn’t say it quite like that.

Washington: You didn’t do it? Oh, come on!

Olsen: Well, you know, the TV movie category in the streaming era has just really exploded. And it’s become a much more dynamic category than it had been in a few years previous. And “Rebel Ridge,” which stars Aaron Pierre, is really a great example of that. Written and directed by Jeremy Saulnier, the film stars Aaron as a man who comes to a small town. He wants to bail his cousin out of jail and he runs afoul of the crooked local sheriff. It just becomes this really muscular and exciting action thriller. Aaron brings a real gravitas and power to his role and has some very exciting fight scenes. And also it’s just such a great time for Aaron Pierre. As you said, he just was the voice of Mufasa in Barry Jenkins’ “Mufasa: The Lion King,” and then he also is gonna be seen in the next [season] of “The Morning Show,” and then is currently filming “Lanterns,” which is a DC Green Lantern property.

Washington: You can always kinda see certain folks have that moment where the boom happens, right? And then they just take off, and then someone’s gonna go, “Where’d this person come from?” Not knowing the whole, it takes 10 years to become an overnight success. He’s been putting in the work for years.

All right, well let’s get into Yvonne and Janelle James. Let’s start it now.

Janelle James in “Abbott Elementary.”

(Gilles Mingasson / Disney)

Villarreal: You’re in this big career moment. In what ways did you feel ready for it and in what ways has it just thrown you for a loop?

James: Ooh, I mean, I feel ready for this career moment — not only moment but this career from performing for 15 years prior to getting this role. I’ve been performing for a long time. What has thrown me for a loop is fame. I had no concept of what that meant. I had no concept of what being on a show that immediately takes off entails and what that feels like. That’s definitely been a surprise.

Villarreal: Can you break it down, what it does mean to be on a hit broadcast sitcom? How have you had to reconfigure your life?

James: Can’t go to Target — not that we are — can’t go to Target. I remember the first season, I was in Target and I was looking at doormats, as you do, and this guy comes up to me — I didn’t see him, I heard him say, “I got to hug you.” And I was like, “He’s not talking to me, because I don’t know this man.” And he picked me up. This huge guy picked me up off the ground and gave me a hug, which I’m sure was in love. But that had me shook. I remember I went to work the next day and it was on my face that I was shook, like, what just happened? And Tyler [James Williams], my co-star, was like, “What’s going on with you?” And I was like, “A stranger picked me up in Target to compliment the show.” He was like, ‘What are you doing in Target? You can’t go to Target anymore.” And that used to be my happy place. That was an adjustment, people knowing who I am when I’m in my jammies, trying to get some gummy bears.

Villarreal: I was with Chris Perfetti at a museum [for a story], and kids were on their field trips, coming up to him and ready to share what they’re learning in school.

James: And I’m way more famous than him. (That was a joke.)

Villarreal: What do you hear most often, and do you feel the need to be on as Ava because this is what people are expecting from you?

James: What do I hear most often? “I’m a principal.” “I know a principal like you.” “I also went to school.” I feel like that’s part of the reason why the show is a hit. Who hasn’t gone to school? It resonates with a lot of people because they’ve had the experience. And do I feel the need to [be like Ava]? Yes. You don’t want to disappoint people. I’ve learned to take people approaching me as Ava as a compliment, like, “Oh, I’m doing this character so well they think that it is me that they’re talking to.” They’re [thinking] I just stepped off the screen and now I’m in Ralphs for some reason — although she [Ava] would never be shopping for herself. I want to give them what they want and sometimes I don’t, so I just stay in the house.

Villarreal: Well, Ava Coleman, the character you play, has had so much character development this season and it was very earned too. She started out the series as this very polarizing character. She can be rude. She’s not politically correct. She really won over the audience over the run of the show. I’m curious what it felt like for you to really get in depth with her this season. We get more of her background. We see her open herself up to a relationship, and we see just how far she’s willing to go for the students.

James: I was really proud and honored that Quinta [Brunson, the show’s creator and star] and the writers trusted me with the material that they’re giving me. And, like you said, it’s earned. I feel like it was time. There’s been [a] little dribbling out of her character over the seasons, but this, to me, was an Ava season, basically. [I’m] happy that they trusted that I can bring these different flavors to her. And [it’s] just a testament to, like, the writing that this is a sitcom, it’s 22 minutes, and we’re doing so much story in such a short time; to be able to, for instance, reveal about her dad or have a dramatic moment and go right back into comedy [when] I’ve only been onscreen for maybe four minutes and you’ve already found out so much about her is amazing, and it makes me feel very talented.

Villarreal: What were your conversations like with Quinta?

James: I mind my business. I’ve been in a writers’ room before, and I know nobody cares what the actors think. I know we certainly didn’t when I was in one. I just try to let them do their gig, and because they have been doing such a good job, that’s why we’re a hit. They’ve been doing a great job with the show and developing the characters. I feel like each one of us gets a year. I feel first season was a Barbara [played by Sheryl Lee Ralph] year; second was Tyler [who plays Gregory]; then this one. I’m never worried or trying to involve myself. I’m so lucky that Quinta is like the coolest boss and that she gives me a heads-up for big stories, but I’m never like, “Whaaat?” or “Oh, I feel this …”

I know I have said things to her on the side that ended up happening. And then I’m just psyched that they decided to go with my idea. But I’m never like, “I have a pitch.” I would be annoyed with that. If it’s my show and I feel like I’m killing it, I don’t really want to hear a pitch from the actor. My job is to make those words feel real and convincing. And that’s it.

Villarreal: The father element [to Ava’s] story was a really a revelation for me. I’m curious what that unlocked for you. Ava’s father is played by Keith David. You were able to capture so much about the daddy issues that she has and where the maybe hardness or prickliness comes from.

James: Exactly what you said. It’s just more about her ethos and why she is like she is, why she’s so untrusting, why she’s short with people, doesn’t want to get close with anyone. Because she’s already been disappointed by somebody — as we find out in the date episode — that’s very important to her, and then abruptly went away to start another family. I thought that was a really great way to show that and to show her strength. He comes in, they have that moment, but then she’s back to Ava right away. I feel like Ava just like keeps it moving, to her detriment sometimes — like [she] doesn’t process. But it makes sense. That’s what I like about the writing for the characters on this show. Everything we do makes sense, it seems very real, it’s relatable. So many people wrote me and said, “I have this situation with a parent, and it struck me as real.” It also illuminated for me what I think is the most important relationship on the show is Janine and Ava and how we have similar backgrounds and parental issues, but we’re coming at it from different ways. She’s coming at it with endless optimism and nonpessimism. So we’re opposites sides of the personality spectrum, but I think as the show goes on, we’re moving closer and closer together. I think that’s so smart and [makes for] good story development.

Villarreal: We see that Ava gets fired at near the end of the season. Did Quinta or the writers prepare you that this was coming, or did you read it in the script?

James: So Quinta told me maybe a couple of days before, like, “You’re gonna get fired.” I was like, “OK.” I think I did say, like, “Oh, do I still get paid?” Which I meant. Do I still get paid? Because I thought that meant I wasn’t gonna be in the show at all. So I’m like, “Can I just pop in and get paid or…? Just let me know.” I wasn’t concerned about being off the show [permanently], because that didn’t make sense story-wise to me. I don’t know why they would have done that, and I don’t think she would have pitched it to me so casual if I was out of a job. But again, just trusting them, I was like, “Oh, if I’m getting fired, that means we about to shake something up, and I would love to see the reaction to it,” which was fabulous. That was one of the best days of my life.

Villarreal: It goes back to earning it. You’ve reached a point where the audience wants you back, wants to see Ava back. How do you think your background in stand-up and playing to either packed crowds or nearly empty venues and having to win over an audience, how did that prepare you for a character like Ava?

James: Exactly what you said! Exactly what you said. Even when it’s a packed house of people that love me, my stand-up is also very antagonistic, and that’s for my own pleasure because I do like that. I’m gonna say something that you might not agree with or you don’t find funny or touches you in a certain way, and you’re gonna love me by the end. Then I’m going to make you laugh. There’s a power in that. Stand-up has definitely prepared me for this whole Ava arc of people being like, “I don’t like her.” And I’m like, “Yeah, really? You don’t? OK, we’ll see Season 4.”

Villarreal: Can you tell me about a time where you just felt like you bombed [onstage] and how you turned it?

James: I thought you meant just bombed, because I have bombed and just went home and had this one tear. [But] bombed and came back … I feel like that’s every set, truly. I like to craft a set, especially if I’m doing an hour, where it has different levels. Of course, you want to crush the whole time, and I am, but I like my jokes to have downbeats and then ba-da-ba. I’m not really a one-liner, which is what Ava was for a long time, so that’s been a new muscle for me to do, where I’m just saying a line and have to hit those beats. But I like to do a joke that has different peaks and valleys to it and where people are like — you see them physically going back, then they’re like, “Ah, I love that.” That’s what I like about stand-up, that instant reaction and the feeling of winning.

Villarreal: Do you get the nerves doing “Abbott” the way you get the nerves of stand-up?

James: Yes. I feel like if you don’t get nerves, that means you don’t care. Did I say 15 years? Jesus. 15 years doing stand-up, I still get nervous beforehand. Four seasons doing “Abbott,” I still get nervous. It just means that I care about my performance.

Villarreal: “Abbott” is a single-camera show. You’re not filming in front of an audience. And you’re used to doing your stand-up in front of people. What is a signal to you that you’re delivering Ava the way you want? Is it hearing a cameraman, his laughter come through or breaking one of your scene mates?

James: All of that, but also I’m just confident in my comedic timing at this point. I don’t need a response. I love it. [But] I don’t need a response anymore to know that I’ve hit the beats. Comedic timing is a skill just like anything else.

Villarreal: I lack it, so I have no idea what that’s like.

James: Thank you for admitting, because everybody thinks they can do it. I’d like to hear a man say it — never will happen. I always say my confidence in myself and in what I’m doing is earned. I think that’s part of what some people don’t like in Ava. Some people don’t like confident people because it makes them think about themselves. I feel like it’s OK to be confident. There’s confidence and narcissism. My confidence comes from putting in the work. I have the respect of my peers, in comedy and now in acting. I know what I’m doing. And, so, I don’t really need the instant feedback, but it’s lovely to have it, which is why I’m back onstage.

Villarreal: Do you think she always had it?

James: Ava? Yeah. Especially like I said, the first season, I’m the joke machine. One-liners wasn’t my thing, but I know what the beats are. I know the jokes are supposed to sound like and how it’s supposed to hit and how we’re supposed to parry off of another statement. Can you say parry? Is that a word? I don’t know. Is that tennis? I might have made it up, but hey, confidence. It’s a word.

Villarreal: One of the great things about the show is how the writers build the characters with these seemingly small details that say so much about the characters. For Ava, she owns a party bus, or she dated Allen Iverson, or she hasn’t used capital letters in years. What are some of the details that you’ve loved learning about her?

James: One of my favorites is that her “Hello” sign [on her desk] is facing her and that was totally a mistake when we did that. I had turned it and props turned it back, and both me and Quinta was like, “No, that’s funny if it’s facing you,” and now that’s become a thing because that’s totally something she would do, like, “Don’t come in here.” Anybody that comes in, she’s like, “Don’t come in my office, I’m doing my side hustles; I’m not really trying to talk to you, so no hello. Hello to me. You’re doing a great job, Ava.” I love just the continuity of our props department is hilarious in that I think Season 1 we took the picture with Gritty and she says, “Oh, this is cute picture I’m gonna have to Photoshop Janine out.” Then behind me for the whole season [is the framed photo], not Photoshopped, [but what] I think is is is even more cutting: She literally cut her [Janine] out [of] the picture with scissors. That’s some real hate. I love that. And the fact that she does know all these people that she’s talking about. She’s popular outside the school. She has all these hookups. Just recently, she had her list of high-net-worth drug dealers that came in. But also, that rings true. That’s who she would know. And those are the high earners in a neighborhood like that. It’s just, again, excellent storytelling to remind people where we are. We’re in the inner city in Philly. That’s what she knows. She grew up in that neighborhood, she knows them. She know they got money. That’s her friends. But she just happens to be a principal.

Villarreal: As you mentioned earlier, you’ve been in writers’ rooms before — “The Rundown With Robin Thede,” “Black Monday.” How does being behind the scenes and knowing what goes into making the show inform you as a performer?

James: Well, like I mentioned earlier, I leave them alone. I know it’s a different process than what we’re doing. I know it’s difficult to craft out a whole season. I’ve never been on a show that’s done 22 episodes and we just [deliver] back-to-back bangers — that’s amazing [and] even more reason to leave them alone. They know what they’re doing; Quinta knows what she’s doing. I feel like Quinta has a vision, not only for each season but from the start of the show to when we eventually end it. And I know for me, as the seasons go on, I’ve become more comfortable with suggesting things and maybe improv-ing. But only when asked, and I always ask first. I always try to say what’s on the paper. I never try to be like, “Oh, what I think might be funnier…” or whatever, even though that’s what I believe. I always do what’s the paper first. And then I say, “Hey, I have a suggestion,” and then I get to find out if they chose mine or not, and they frequently did.

Villarreal: How were you in writers’ rooms?

James: How was I? I feel like you got inside information.

Villarreal: No, no, I don’t. I don’t. Please share with me that experience because it feels intimidating.

James: Nah — I mean, it depends. I guess for some people. I ain’t intimidated by much. I’m a joke machine. I’ve only written for comedies so far, so that’s my bag. Pitch, pitch. If you want a joke, I’m all day with it. I have a story. I thought you had inside information with “Black Monday.” When I first started — it’s usually men. Was I the only woman? No, there was two women in that writers’ room. One of my favorite jobs, by the way. Let me just say that before they think I’m talking s—. All the men are pitching, and I said, “Ugh, ugh.” And I had just gotten there because I came in, like, late to the season. And my boss, David Caspe, was like, “What’s going on with you?” And I was like, “None of this is funny. I’m just waiting to hear some funny s—” or something like that. He wrote it on the window, and it stayed there for the whole season. Seeing it written, I was like, “That’s outta line.” But I meant it.

Villarreal: How did your fellow writers feel about that?

James: They loved me. I just saw one just recently, hugged me and everything.

Villarreal: Would you ever want to write an episode of “Abbott”?

James: Yeah, I was just talking about that with someone. I don’t know if we’re allowed. I also don’t how it would work because I wouldn’t be in the room to build with them. They start way before we do, and I know each episode is assigned to a writer. But it’s already pretty formulated by then. I don’t know if I would write, like, a one-off type of situation, but however it would work out, I would love that.

Villarreal: I would love to see that. Which character would you be interested in writing for?

James: Ooh, I think Tyler’s character is so interesting and funny. Tyler’s comedic timing is so funny and underrated. Quinta too. I love the Janine character. And then myself, duh. Everybody. I feel like I know the least about Barb’s. I feel I would maybe write her too much as a caricature.

Villarreal: I can only imagine the lines.

James: Easter Sunday every line. Chris too. Just some real — ooh, I almost cursed. Some real high jinks for him.

Villarreal: Do what you want.

James: Some real f— high jinks. That was in me the whole time. I was like, “Oh, God, can I say one curse word?”

Villarreal: Let it out.

James: One of my favorite things to do as the cast is when we’re in a group in the kitchen, and we have like we’re all bouncing off of each other — those are my favorite scenes. So, yeah, anything.

Villarreal: What’s it like filming with the kids? You don’t do it as often as some of the other actors on the show.

James: It’s great. I’m just always constantly surprised and impressed with how chill they are. I know me, we do [a scene] three times, I’m like, “All right, I am done with that.” But they are engaged, and they’re doing it, and they’re good. And it’s so amazing because I know, especially first season, we had a lot of kids who had never acted before, who aren’t even professional actors. A lot of Black kids, which we want to represent where we are, it’s very hard to be a child actor. A lot of times, if you’re a professional child actor, your parent has quit their job because they’ve got to drive you around auditions, they’ve got to be on set with you. And a lot of Black kids don’t have that privilege. So to have all these Black kids there and it’s their first acting job, and they’re so good. And now they’ve grown with the show.

Villarreal: Do they call you Miss James?

James: No, they call me Ava. Which is fine. The kids are the least annoying as far as approaching me as a character. They can call me whatever. Of course, they think that’s who I am. And I don’t mind performing for them. You want me to do the TikTok dances with you and all that? I don’t want them to feel like they have a job. I think that’s lame. You’re a child, let’s have fun and reward them for being so chill.

Villarreal: When the show was entering its second season, you made the decision to move out here. I know Tyler had to persuade you not to buy a Mazda —

James: Oh, that story. I have regrets, actually. I love a Mazda.

Villarreal: I’m more curious what that transition was like, moving out here, that period of settling in.

James: I had lived in L.A. for short periods just for a job, and I would go back to New York. That’s what happened with the first season. I remember we did the pilot and I was like, “That was cool.” I went right back home. Then we got picked up. I truly didn’t even know what that meant. Then we like did 13 [episodes] in the middle of the pandemic, by the way — I feel like a lot of people, of course, have wiped that from their brain, but we did all of that with the masks and [personal protective equipment]. So that was just a whirlwind of things happening. Then all of a sudden it’s, “Oh, it’s a hit, 22 episodes next season.” So that’s nine months out of the year. I’m like, “Well, I guess I live in L.A. now.” It was a big transition. I’ve been in New York for a long time, and I am a New Yorker — you hear it? I’m a New Yorker. And my family is still on the East Coast and my friends and my nightlife and my community. So, yeah, it’s been a big transition and I’ve left all my comedians, and I hang with actors.

Villarreal: On the subject of the growth with Ava, is there a limit to the growth you would like to see with her? Is there something that you don’t want to see from Ava as the series progresses?

James: I’m not afraid that this is going to happen, because if it would have, it would’ve happened already, [but] one thing I’m very pleased with is, although we’re revealing more about her, her core personality stays the same. She’s still that b— I liked, especially when she got fired, it wasn’t this big [moment] — on her part — of like, “Woe is me! What am I going to do now?” She was instantly like, “Next.” Find out that wasn’t even her main job. I loved that. And the next time you see her, she’s rising from the audience for her speaking engagements. She had people picking up her checks. But that’s who she is. She’s a hustler. That’s what I really relate to with her. I get that, “Next. Let’s move.” And anyone who dares to let me go, that’s your loss because I’m killing it and doing multiple things, which is not only relating to being a hustler, at the core of that is relating to being poor. That’s what you got to do. You got to have multiple streams. That’s what all those lame guys are talking about. Multiple streams. I saw a couple people [say], “I hope that we find out she’s been like lying this whole time.” She’s too fab for that. It is very true that this person exists who is a hustler, who is as fly as she says she is and who has not only book smarts but street smarts, which I think is very underrated, or what’s the word I’m looking for, not valued as much as a book learning. She has both.

Villarreal: Before we wrap, what is it like to have your performance captured in meme form and live on in that way? Do you find yourself actively thinking about that now?

James: A lot of times, I’ll see a meme, and it’s not even me. I don’t see it as myself. Maybe the first season, I was like, “Oh, my God, I can’t open my phone without seeing myself.” I also was living in a place where the billboard was right across from my window. I’m like, “That’s weird.” It’s really been a real — they said I could curse — mindf— sometimes, seeing myself so much and not even just in the context of the show. That’s what a meme is. It’s in a thread about taxes and then it’s me. I’m like, “What does this have to do with it?” But now I’m taking it more like, “Oh, wow, this character is like iconic. Not like, is iconic.” She’s in the lexicon. She’s gonna be around forever. Anytime somebody plays [Juvenile’s] “Back That A— Up,” they think about me.

Villarreal: Talk about that moment.

James: It’s crazy. Everywhere I walk in — I walk into the Ralphs, “Back That A— Up” on there. Everybody like, “Hey, that’s for you.”

Villarreal: The way people like glommed onto it, like it was all over TikTok with captions like, “This is me in my kitchen.”

James: Again, excellent writing, excellent character development. Because that is the song. Nothing is written because we just want it to be. That is the jam that people such as Ava and people in that age group, you hear it, you on the dance floor, and it would make you act out at work. It’s true.

Villarreal: Was that so fun to do?

James: Man, I was so nervous.

Villarreal: Were you worried you were not backing it up right?

James: Not even backing it up right. I had to find a middle ground. Hit show, ABC. I feel like I could have went crazy and they would have cut it up. But I also wanted it to be — I know grandmas and kids are watching, and I wanted it to be funny too. So I was trying to do so much in that little time. We had Randall, he’s circling around. How that was shot, it was like cinematic.

Villarreal: The timing.

James: I had a silk blouse, I was like, “I can’t be sweaty, I still gotta look fly, the hair gotta flow, gotta be a little funny, gotta be little sexy, gotta be believable that I’m letting loose.” It was a lot. Again, we’re doing so much, and I’m doing so much, in a short amount of time. That scene was maybe 30 seconds. I had to convey all of that in a dance. I’m not even saying anything. I’m doing my little giggle because that’s what girls do. I had to make all of that and remember what that feels like to hear that song.

Villarreal: To go from something like that, which again, like the joy and fun of a scene like that to the depth we saw this season from her, like I said, with like the moments of vulnerability, it’s such a testament to you and what you’re delivering. So kudos to you. I can’t wait to see what’s ahead with Season 5.

James: Thank you so much.

Aaron Pierre in “Rebel Ridge.”

(Allyson Riggs / Netflix)

Mark Olsen: You’ve been so busy these past few years, I can imagine there are times when you’re like, “What am I here to talk about?” You have so many projects that you’ve been involved in.

Aaron Pierre: I’ve been very fortunate and very blessed on my journey. I’m just trying to keep it about a commitment to doing the best work I can. A commitment to evolution and growth and just enjoying the moment.

Olsen: When you came to “Rebel Ridge,” there initially was another actor in the project who left. I’m curious, for you did you feel like you were jumping onto a moving train? What was it like to get involved in a project that was already in motion?

Pierre: The first time I heard about this project was from [director] Jeremy [Saulnier] himself. My team had read this script, which we now know to be “Rebel Ridge,” and they were just really thrilled and excited to have something cross their desks that felt original, that felt exciting and that energized them in a way that perhaps they hadn’t been energized in a long time. So more or less immediately, I read the script, got onto a Zoom with Jeremy himself, and we just immediately connected. I think there is something to be said for instincts and something to be said for a gut feeling, and I think in both departments we had a positive experience of that with one another, and we felt as though this collaboration would only be conducive to an enjoyable time. And that’s certainly what was happening.

Olsen: Did you know Saulnier’s work from his other films, “Green Room” or “Hold the Dark,” were you familiar with him before this came to you?

Pierre: Yes, I was familiar. My favorite is “Blue Ruin.” I think that is a masterpiece. And I think that is Jeremy arguably at his happiest as a filmmaker and just getting to flex all of those different muscles and talents that he has. After seeing “Blue Ruin,” I always wanted to work with him. I didn’t know if it would ever come to fruition or if it would even be a possibility. And then “Rebel Ridge” came along, and we got rockin’ and rollin’.

Olsen: You mentioned instinct and how you have to learn to trust your gut working with someone like Jeremy, saying yes to a project. At the end of it, do you ever get some sense of what that instinct was? “That was what I was responding to, that’s why I wanted to do this”?

Pierre: I have this sort of checklist for myself, any project that I do, when I wrap. At the end of it, if I can say that I did my best to give my best, and also if I can say that I earned my own respect — which is a very challenging thing to do because I demand so much from myself and I’m hypercritical of myself — but if I can check those two boxes, then I feel satisfied. I don’t try and control or puppeteer anything beyond that because the space that I’m in, you’re in, we’re in, it is so subjective. But that’s why we love it. It’s art. And if I can have that peace in myself of, “I really gave everything I had,” then beyond that whatever happens is just additional blessings. And to have the response that “Rebel Ridge” received was beyond my wildest dreams, to be honest with you. Speaking candidly, I’m still processing it now. It was really moving. I think in part it was so moving because we poured so much into it. Everybody in every department. I’m not speaking exclusively about the cast. I’m not speaking exclusively about the director and the [producers]. I’m talking about everybody, from crafty to catering to transpo[rtation] to the teamsters to the crew. Everybody poured so much into it. We were all there every day from the beginning to the end. And I think there is something so beautiful about a project which is so physical and demands so much. That sort of brings you all together. So I’m just thrilled for everybody who poured themselves into this, and it really wouldn’t have been possible without everybody’s commitment to it and everybody’s commitment to excellence.

Olsen: When you say that you’re still processing your feelings about it, what’s changed for you? How do you feel your response to the movie has evolved?

Pierre: I think what I’m processing still is just the abundance of joy that it gave people and the reception it received. So many people have reached out to myself, to Jeremy, to others who were part of project and shared what it meant to them. And even requested a sequel. I just feel very grateful, and really the film wouldn’t be what it is today without the audience. And that really ties into why I do what I do — I don’t take myself seriously, but I do take what I do and my craft very seriously. And that is me attempting to honor the time and the energy that an audience gifts you with when they engage with a film, or they engage with a TV series, or they come to the theater and watch a play that you’re in. Life is busy. Life is hard. People have multiple things to juggle. So when people gift you with that time, I feel as though, as an artist, as an actor, whatever I want to describe myself as, I have a commitment to honor that. And that really just ties into the audience response. Just to get that, it feels really special.

Olsen: One of the things that’s so remarkable about your performance in the film is you remain so calm through the whole thing. No matter how wild the story and the action gets, you’re still very cool throughout. How did you come to that choice? Tell me a little bit about that essential nature of your performance.

Pierre: I arrived at the decision that I wanted Terry to feel like — I wanted his energy to be “loudest quietest person in the room.” And what I mean by that is, I wanted his silence to speak tremendous volumes. Somebody who steps into a room and they don’t say anything, but the fact that they don’t say anything is so loud. The fact that they are not demonstrative in their physicality is so loud, and almost their lack of emoting at times, their lack of being physical at times, is what indicates their capacity and is what tells you everything you need to know about them. That’s what I was playing with during the entire filming process. And it was a lot of fun to do so. That’s one of the beautiful things about a character that is so wonderfully written. Terry is written in such a dynamic way, in such a nuanced way and really such a generous way. And I have to credit that to Jeremy as the writer, he was so generous in how he created Terry, so that the individual that portrayed him had so much to work from.

Olsen: People often talk about Jeremy’s work as being slow-burn thrillers. That’s what they call them because they typically take a while to get to the action and to really pop off. Was pacing something that you talked about with Jeremy, both in how the story was going to be paced, but also how your performance was going to be paced? How do you capture that sense of the slow burn?

Pierre: As an actor, I think doing things in a slow pace is not something I have an issue with. If anything, directors have to say, “Hey, Aaron, let’s [pick it up]” because I like to enjoy moments in the context of portraying a character. So this was exactly the lane that I enjoy operating in, so far as action and thriller. I love enjoying those beats and enjoying those moments and really being unapologetic about it. So it was a lot of fun. The moment where, for example, Terry rides into where the sheriff’s office and he puts his pedal bike down and he just waits there calmly, and then Don Johnson comes out and he has this whole speech about P.A.C.E. and he breaks [the acroynm] down: I could be wrong, but I feel like a number of other action movies might have taken the route of, let’s just get straight to it. But I love that Jeremy had his character break down what was going to happen should this police department not adhere to his request. I love moments like that. I love that Jeremy was so unapologetic about it, and that gave me permission as his collaborator within this film to also be unapologetic.

Olsen: That is one of my favorite scenes in the movie as well, because it’s this very tense dialogue scene between you and Don Johnson, and then it suddenly erupts into a very physical, rough-and-tumble fight, a physical sequence between you, Don and another actor. I have to say, it sure looks like that’s really you in close combat with those two guys. What kind of training did you do for that? And what was it like to sort of go from paced, restrained dialogue to break into the action like that?

Pierre: Oh, it was so much fun. You’ll hear me commend and celebrate the crew a lot because they deserve it, they earned it, and they’re just phenomenal. I had a lot of help with the physicality of Terry, with the intellect of Terry, from the stunt department and from our advisors. [Marine Corps Martial Arts Program] instructors, for example. We really did a lot of physical training prior to production commencing. We did wrestling training, we did boxing training, we sparred. So I was really in my body. I’m already a student of martial arts, and I love it. It’s the most humbling thing in the world, and I just adore it. And I’ll always be a student of it. So that was really fun for me, to be able to do that for my job. By the time we got to choreography, it just felt somewhat fluid and easy because moving in that way was already in my body. That was how we warmed up, that’s how we would sometimes start days, that’s sometimes how we would end days. That’s sometimes how we would spend a day on the weekend. So it was really in me at that time. And again, it goes back to being the loudest quietest person in the room. I like that Terry goes from that speech to, “OK, you’ve now left me no option but to demonstrate everything I just told you I had the capacity to do, but I was hoping not to have to do.” There was sort of a running joke in the crew that Terry is there to teach manners.

Olsen: There also is a scene in the film where Terry, your character, is on a bicycle and he’s racing a bus. And I’ve seen some of the behind-the-scenes footage. You’re on this contraption that’s sort of a motorized cart that has a bicycle sticking off the front of it. But I have to say, I would 100% believe that you were, like, racing that bus.

Pierre: So here’s the thing. As you know, it takes a lot to make a film and it takes a lot to capture a scene like that. And all of these get cut together, and then it all just looks seamlessly like one take, or whatever it might be. But there was a version of that bus scene where I’m pursuing the bus on a pedal bike, just me. There’s a version of it where I’m pursuing the bus on a bike rig that is fueled by a motor, almost like a small go-kart. There’s a version of it where I’m quite literally attached to the bus and I am physically pedaling and exerting myself as hard as I can. And then [key grip] Big Bruce Lawson — who I love, by the way — he’s gently pushing me closer and closer to where the driver is, driving the bus. So all three of these versions require me to pedal, but not all of them am I making movement purely on my own accord. Then you put them all together and it looks seamless and wonderful.

Olsen: How surprised are you when you see the final product? Like, “Whoa, looks pretty good!”

Pierre: I have to be honest, with Jeremy, I wasn’t surprised. Jeremy’s Jeremy, he does wonderful work all the time as far as I’m concerned. I remember well before the film came out, he showed me an early cut, I think it was maybe like the first eighth of the film, and I was just really excited by it. And then to see the final product, I just commend him.

Olsen: There also are a number of scenes in the film where you disassemble a gun, a handgun, in your hands without really looking at it while you’re doing it, like you’re looking at another person while you are taking this gun apart. How hard is that? I don’t think I could ever manage that. Had you had any kind of weapons training from other projects?

Pierre: Not prior to “Rebel Ridge.” But I really had to immerse myself in that in order to achieve what I wanted to achieve, which was authenticity. And which was honoring Marines. That’s very important to me, as it’s very important to me with every role that I play to be authentic and to honor the individual and the history of that individual and their respective communities and units. So I really immersed myself in it, and even reflecting on it now, I’m surprised that I managed to even get to the level where I could do a scene and be looking you in the eye but [be] disassembling a gun or unloading a gun and unloading a magazine and putting that on the side. They really had me in sort of like a boot camp, and luckily I took to it. Because one thing about Jeremy is we will not move on from the scene until it’s seamless, and that’s what I love about him.

Olsen: Were there any other films that you and Jeremy would talk about or maybe that he showed you as a reference as you were working on this part?

Pierre: Actually, no. I mean, of course, he and I were aware of wonderful films that share similar themes. But for the whole maybe three-month shoot, we didn’t actually speak about any other action films. And I even remember Don, Jeremy and I one day, I think we were shooting the scene where Don’s character takes Terry with David Denman’s character to the hospital before they break the news to him. And Don actually doesn’t watch any films when he’s shooting a film. So that was kind of the energy, actually, while we were filming “Rebel Ridge”: Let’s just focus on creating this original film without influence or at least without any conscious influence. Of course, it’s art, so subconsciously you’re always going to be influenced; it’s going to be a version of [something]. And that’s inspiration. But we really just focused on “Rebel Ridge” and how do we want to tell the story of “Rebel Ridge.”

Olsen: Tell me more about working with Don Johnson. He seems like a super cool guy that it would be fun to meet and hang around with. But then it’s funny that he’s so good at playing this like really smug jerk of a crooked sheriff.

Pierre: Don and I get along really wonderfully. It’s so funny, I think actually the fact that we got along so well allowed us to create such tension and friction within the scenes because we were able to, outside of the context of the scenes, discuss what we wanted to achieve and how we wanted to achieve it. And then when the cameras started rolling, we had substance because we had everything we had discussed. And in those moments, it wasn’t Aaron and Don, it was really Terry and the sheriff. Jeremy creates this environment where it really is conducive to, I think, the best work, because he protects with everything the scene and the place where the scene is taking place. So you can have a laugh and a joke outside, because you know as soon as you step into that atmosphere, that arena, you’re in that world now.

Olsen: The story of the film is about a Black man coming into a Southern town. Race is a real undercurrent to the story, and yet it’s something that apart from one scene, where a Black female police officer calms down a group of white men, it’s never really explicit in the film. For you, what was it like to have that sort of bubbling underneath? Did you like the fact that there was never a big conversation about it, that’s not that scene in the movie. How did you feel about the way the story dealt with that?

Pierre: I think Jeremy did a brilliant job of navigating multiple important and pressing issues, all within one film. And I think he did it in a way that was not didactic. And I might even say that … allowed for it to resonate even deeper with audiences. Because versus the audience is feeling like they were being sat down, it was more of an invitation to come and engage in this conversation with us, within the context of the film.

Olsen: I want to go back to something you said earlier, that you feel on a project you have to earn your own respect. Can you talk a bit more about what means to you? What, in essence, does it take for you to earn your own respect?

Pierre: When an audience engages with your work in any capacity — theater, film, TV, radio, wherever it is — that’s them gifting you with their time. Time is precious. Time is valuable. I need to feel as though I’ve served the character. I need to feel as though I’ve served the story. I need to feel as though I’ve served the creative team. And I need to feel as though I’ve served the audience. Even if an audience walks away from something and they say, “That wasn’t for me,” that’s OK because the work is subjective. Just so long as the result of that wasn’t me not giving my all. If I don’t give my all, I’m not at peace. And I think that really just comes from gratitude for the opportunity. And that ferocity of work ethic that I have is just fueled by gratitude. I’m well aware that this is something that isn’t a given, to be blessed in a position where you can tell stories on this level with such wonderful creatives. I’ve been in a position where this is everything I wanted to do, all I could do, but I was unemployed and I was in a very financially challenging position and telling people I’m an actor, but I had nothing, nothing to show. So I think actually having all of those life experiences of those rough times, and those challenging times, when I am now in this position where I’m fortunate to have an abundance of options and things available for me to engage with, it’s just never missed on me. Ever. And it just would never feel right to take that for granted. What are we doing here? We have an opportunity, let’s give it our all. Maybe it lands flat, maybe it’s a major success, but whatever we’re doing, let’s not hold our punches, let’s give everything we’ve got.

Olsen: Last year, you were also in “Mufasa: The Lion King,” you did the voice of Mufasa. And as I understand it, you had previously worked with Barry Jenkins on “The Underground Railroad” —

Pierre: That’s big bro.

Olsen: And as I understand it, he initially reached out to you. He saw you onstage, and he sent you a DM.

Pierre: He did.

Olsen: As an actor, is that kind of what you’re hoping for? You can’t even really hope for that to happen, in a way.

Pierre: I thought somebody was messing with me, I promise you. We had just finished an evening performance at Shakespeare’s Globe on the South Bank, of “Othello.” Mark Rylance was playing Iago, Andre Holland was playing Othello. Phenomenal actors both. The whole team, phenomenal actors. And I just finished the evening show, and I think I was coming out of the underground at Earl’s Court Station and my phone pinged. And it was a DM from Barry, and I was like, “This has got to be a joke. Somebody has heard me talking about how much I want to collaborate with him, heard me talking extensively about what he achieved with ‘Moonlight.’” And then I opened it and it had the little verified blue tick, and I was like, “This is actually Barry Jenkins.” And he was just saying, “Hey, man, I really enjoyed your work on the stage as Cassio, I have this project upcoming. And I would like to engage in a conversation with you about it.” That was a really special moment for me.

Olsen: With “The Lion King” in particular, what was it like taking on the role of Mufasa, originally voiced by James Earl Jones? Was it a challenge for you to find your own way, essentially your own voice, for that character?

Pierre: First and foremost, James Earl Jones originated Mufasa and is and always will be synonymous with Mufasa, and his portrayal is just so beautiful and timeless. And it’s not only with me for the rest of my life but with all of us for the rest of our lives. And most importantly, it can never be matched. That actually brought me a lot of peace entering that conversation and entering that creative process. Knowing that is in its own stratosphere, and rightly so, it gave me a lot of peace and it gave me permission to find my own version. And I hope that he would be proud of the version that I discovered, and I hope that he would feel as though we did everything we could to uphold the legacy that he established and the legacy that he built. Because that was our intention and that was what we were striving for. And, just on a separate note, James Earl Jones, he’s the top of the mountain for me. I study him. He’s just the top of the mountain for me.

Olsen: As we’re having this conversation, you’re in the midst of production on “Lanterns,” which is a very different production from “The Lion King.” I’ve seen this iteration of the Green Lantern story described as a sci-fi “True Detective.” And I’m curious just how that project is going for you and what the experience so far of shooting that has been like?

Pierre: It’s been great. It’s been a really beautiful process and experience. Everybody is so close. Everybody is so tight and connected. And I think that is because we all love this project.

Olsen: You also are in the upcoming season of “The Morning Show,” again a very different project, and I’m curious, for you as an actor, do you feel like this has kind of become your moment? As an actor you work so long and so hard. What is it like for you when it seems like suddenly so many things are lining up for you?

Pierre: It’s very surreal. It’s very surreal. There was a time when there was nothing available to me, despite me trying to have things available to me. So it’s very surreal. Again, I’m abundantly grateful, and I think it’s about just utilizing these moments to learn, to grow, to evolve. And just to serve this space as best I can. It’s impossible not to have an amazing time on “The Morning Show.” All of those wonderful artists and creatives, we had a really great time.