‘Ascent” is the title for the National Youth Orchestra’s current tour, and the dominant theme is mountaineering, at once taken literally and as a metaphor for artistic aspiration and striving. Strauss’s Alpine Symphony, pitting man against the impersonal magnificence of nature, is the main work, to which the evening’s curtain raiser, a new piece by Dani Howard, also called Ascent, forms a response. Separating them is Smetana’s great depiction of the river Vltava from Má Vlast, marking the bicentenary of the composer’s birth which falls this year.
Sir Mark Elder conducts the The National Youth Orchestra at the Barbican, London. Photograph: Benjamin Ealovega
Mark Elder, himself an NYO bassoonist in his youth, conducts the Strauss and Smetana, though Howard’s Ascent, for brass and percussion, is done conductor-less, its progress measured out by woodblock taps from one of the percussionists standing centre-stage. The work echoes the Alpine Symphony both in its near-cyclic shape and in Howard’s self-conscious adoption of some of Strauss’s more startling effects – the murky, slowly accumulating dissonance at the start, for instance. One of her aims, however, is to bring on stage the vast quota of horns that Strauss leaves off it, lining them up in formation across the front of the platform and allowing them to kick off the very un-Straussian central section with its jazz riffs and big-band sound. The scoring was occasionally monochrome, though the NYO brass clearly had great fun with the work.
Jazz riffs … Dani Howard Photograph: Emma Fenton
Vltava, in contrast, focused attention on woodwind and strings, with gracefully duetting flutes at the start and a gorgeous sheen on the violins in the section depicting the water nymphs of Czech folklore. The sonic weight conferred by the NYO practice of doubling or trebling parts made the score sound darker and more Wagnerian than it usually does, which Elder to some extent countered by propelling things forward with understated urgency.
That sheer density of sound, however, proved close on ideal for the Alpine Symphony, its prevailing grandeur thrown into relief by the delicacy of those passages where Strauss turns his colossal orchestra into the most refined of chamber ensembles. Elder was in his element in what proved to be a monumental account of the work, the NYO’s commitment and enthusiasm tangible in playing of formidable virtuosity and intensity.
The New York Times is under fire for publishing a piece speculating on Taylor Swift’s sexuality.
In a 5,000-word opinion piece titled Look What We Made Taylor Swift Do, editor Anna Marks listed references to the LGBTQ+ community overt or perceived in Swift’s music and theorized that the singer was sending coded messages that she was secretly a member of the community.
The piece has drawn backlash from Times readers as well as “associates” of Swift, according to CNN.
One such member of Swift’s team, speaking to the outlet on the condition of anonymity, attributed the decision to publish the op-ed to sexism and ethical lapses. “Because of her massive success, in this moment there is a Taylor-shaped hole in people’s ethics,” the person said. “This article wouldn’t have been allowed to be written about Shawn Mendes or any male artist whose sexuality has been questioned by fans.
“There seems to be no boundary some journalists won’t cross when writing about Taylor, regardless of how invasive, untrue, and inappropriate it is – all under the protective veil of an ‘opinion piece’,” the person added.
“This was the least defensible op-ed I can remember ever seeing the NYT run, made all the worst by the fact that it was written by a staffer, who specializes in these speculations,” Chris Willman, the chief music critic at Variety, wrote on Twitter. (In 2022, Marks wrote a guest op-ed essay for the Times speculating on Harry Styles’s sexuality, as well.)
Wilman’s tweet was reposted by Chely Wright, a queer country singer whose struggles to publicly come out in her career were mentioned in Marks’s piece. “I think it was awful of [the New York Times] to publish,” she wrote. “Triggering for me to read – not because the writer mentioned my nearly ending my life – but seeing a public person’s sexuality being discussed is upsetting.”
Marks argued that since early in her career, Swift has been trying to secretly signal that she identifies as queer. “In isolation, a single dropped hairpin is perhaps meaningless or accidental, but considered together, they’re the unfurling of a ballerina bun after a long performance,” Marks wrote. “Those dropped hairpins began to appear in Ms Swift’s artistry long before queer identity was undeniably marketable to mainstream America. They suggest to queer people that she is one of us.”
Swift has embraced the LGBTQ+ community in the past, calling her concerts a “safe space” for LGBTQ+ people and publicly defending them in a 2019 interview with Vogue magazine against a record number of anti-gay bills introduced in states across the country. “Rights are being stripped from basically everyone who isn’t a straight white cisgender male,” she said. “I didn’t realize until recently that I could advocate for a community that I’m not a part of.”
But she has not identified as a member of the queer community herself. In the prologue to the re-record of her 1989 album, released in October, Swift said she surrounded herself with female friends at one point in her career to counter ceaseless media speculation on her love life. “If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn’t sensationalize or sexualize that – right? I would learn later on that people could and people would,” she wrote.
Marks, seemingly aware of the criticism her essay could face, pre-emptively tried to address potential backlash in her piece. “I know that discussing the potential of a star’s queerness before a formal declaration of identity feels, to some, too salacious and gossip-fueled to be worthy of discussion,” she wrote.
“I share many of these reservations. But the stories that dominate our collective imagination shape what our culture permits artists and their audiences to say and be,” she added. “Every time an artist signals queerness and that transmission falls on deaf ears, that signal dies. Recognizing the possibility of queerness – while being conscious of the difference between possibility and certainty – keeps that signal alive.”
The Times has declined to comment directly on the essay and pointed to what Marks wrote about criticism in the piece itself.
“The first on the chopping block is a March program curated by Music Director Esa-Pekka Salonen. … The orchestra added that future plans for SoundBox will include just two programs per season — a reduction from the three to five that have generally made up the series.” – San Francisco Chronicle (MSN)
In 1977, the year after releasing his debut album, he shot to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 with the lachrymose ballad “Don’t Give Up on Us.” Many years later, Owen Wilson, as Hutch, parodied the song in none-too-loving fashion in a 2004 feature-film comedy version of the show, which also starred Ben Stiller as Starsky and Snoop Dogg as Huggy Bear.
Mr. Soul, who often said that music was his priority over acting, released five albums in his career and notched four Top 10 hits in Britain in the 1970s, including “Don’t Give Up on Us,” which climbed to No. 1; “Silver Lady,” which also went to No. 1 although it reached only No. 52 in the United States; and “Going In With My Eyes Open” — No. 2 in Britain and No. 54 on the American chart.
He became enough of a singing sensation that, in reviewing a 1977 concert of his at Radio City Music Hall, Robert Palmer of The New York Times described “camera-wielding teenage girls charging the stage, the flicker of hundreds of exploding flash cubes and a continual squealing.”
Mr. Soul was born David Richard Solberg on Aug. 28, 1943, to Richard Solberg, a professor of political science and history as well as a theologian, and June (Nelson) Solberg, a teacher.
In David’s youth, the family lived in Cold War-era Berlin as well as in South Dakota. He aspired to be a diplomat or a minister before turning his sights on a show business career. In his late teens, he learned that his girlfriend, Mim, was pregnant; under parental pressure, they married.
Later, when he was 22, he found his wife another man, a friend of his, and left her and their young son, Christopher, to chase his dreams of stardom in New York.
In 2021 Sandrine Piau and the Orchestre Victor Hugo released an album of German lieder with orchestra, under the title of Clair-Obscur. This follow-up disc, Reflet, devoted to French orchestral songs, is designed to complete a diptych, made up of songs dealing with light, its reflections and ambiguities. The 13 settings here include just two complete works, which end the sequence – Ravel’s Trois Poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé and Britten’s astonishingly precocious Quatre Chansons Françaises, settings of Victor Hugo and Verlaine composed when he was just 14 – and before them comes a sequence of individual songs.
The cover art for Reflet.
Given the velvety beauty and poise of Piau’s performances, it’s frustrating to get only one number, Le Spectre de la Rose, from Berlioz’s Les Nuits d’Été, and just two by Duparc (one of them L’Invitation au Voyage), but the chance to hear much less well known settings by Charles Koechlin – two of his very early Quatre Poèmes d’Edmond Haraucourt and one of his Trois Mélodies Op 17, Épiphanie, which seems to me a tiny masterpiece – is more than enough compensation. But, really, every one of Piau’s performances is a gem: every phrase is elegantly turned and inimitably coloured, every word is savoured and crystal clear.
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‘You can see it in their faces / Oh, there’s no limit to their joy” goes the chorus to one song on Finnish pop duo Maustetytöt’s hit 2023 album Maailman Onnellisin Kansa, which translates as The Happiest People in the World. But scanning the faces of Kaisa and Anna Karjalainen for signs of exultation – or any emotion whatsoever – can be a challenge.
The two sisters, already stars in their native country, announced themselves to the rest of the world this winter with a performance of one of their songs in Fallen Leaves, veteran arthouse director Aki Kaurismäki’s Oscar-shortlisted deadpan comedy. It’s the pivotal scene in an understated feelgood hit that has topped many end-of-year lists, but Maustetytöt’s performance could not be more minor-key: the pair performing their song in a dimly lit karaoke bar, hardly moving their bodies nor their facial muscles as they diligently play their instruments.
In their music videos, guitarist Anna, 31, usually wears shades, while singer and keyboardist Kaisa, 30, looks glum or sits face down at a table. On their website they sell merchandise with the happy hardcore smiley, but its mouth bends down, not upwards. It’s not how joy usually expresses itself. “We are very pessimistic,” says Anna on a video call, with a blank expression.
“It’s a spirit that’s in our family,” adds her younger sibling. “If you look at your parents it’s easier to understand why you became the person you are.”
“Yeah, our parents,” adds Anna.
There’s a pause, before Kaisa says: “They are very pessimistic and laconic.”
Maustetytöt means “spice girls” in Finnish, which is partly an in-joke about the two women’s first incarnation as a band, Kaneli, meaning cinnamon, and partly a reference to the English girl group. “A friend of ours called us that,” says Kaisa. “The irony being that we are as far away from the original Spice Girls as possible. We got lots of feedback that the name was terrible, but we had this principle that changing it would be cheating.” Sporty and co, she clarifies, were not a musical influence. “I liked them maybe when I was four.”
Maustetytöt: Näkymätön Anna – video
Which is not to say that the Karjalainen sisters are averse to writing hooks. Maustetytöt are an unusual thing: a band with an anti-pop attitude that can’t help but churn out great pop songs. Their first single, 2019’s Tein Kai Lottorivini Väärin (I Guess I Got My Lottery Line Wrong), starts out like a garage-rock stomper, with a spartan drum track and a one-note guitar pulse, only to then break out into a symphonic anthem that would lift the roof at Eurovision.
Thematically, their albums could not be further from the hedonism of 90s girl power personified by their namesakes: 2019’s Kaikki Tiet Vievät Peltolaan (All Roads Lead to Peltola) may have been “about decadence and drinking” but 2020 follow-up Eivät Enkelitkään Ilman Siipiä Lennä (Even Angels Don’t Fly Without Wings) was “already more serious, about suicide, violence and mental illness”, says Anna, while their latest offering is about “immigration, refugees and war”.
And yet two of Maustetytöt’s albums reached No 1 in the Finnish charts, and the first two both earned gold certificates. “Maybe pessimism is something that lives inside most Finnish people,” Anna says. “It’s cold and dark up here, so being happy can be hard.”
The collaboration with Kaurismäki was a meeting of minds. The 66-year-old auteur frequently features live band performances in his films and made his international breakthrough in 1989 with Leningrad Cowboys Go America, a mockumentary about a Finnish rock band whose members all have impossibly coiffured hair and long winklepicker shoes. Invented by the director as a joke, the band went on to record eight albums and continue to tour Europe.
‘We say things just as they are – and that’s what Kaurismäki likes’ … Maustetytöt in a scene from Fallen Leaves. Photograph: Malla Hukkanen/Sputnik
In 2022, says Anna, “we were asked to be on the jury of a student film festival in Karkkila, where Aki lives. We were going to say no because we were busy with our third album, but when they said we might meet Aki we changed our minds, because we have always been huge fans of his. It’s the no-bullshit attitude: straight movies with good plots and good actors. You don’t use any tricks.”
The film-maker returned their compliments. “He told us that in our music we say things just as they are, and that’s what he likes,” says Kaisa. The scene in which he cast the sisters may be prefaced by protagonist Ansa (Alma Pöysti) closing her eyes and dozing off, but if it is a dream sequence it does not provide any wish-fulfilment. Wearing tatty bathrobes, Maustetytöt perform a song that darkens the pervading mood of gloom and despair.
“I’m a prisoner here forever,” goes the song’s Finnish-language chorus. “Even the graveyard has fences / When my earthly turn is done / You’ll just dig me deeper into the ground.” To Anna, their music provides Ansa’s alcoholic love interest Holappa (Jussi Vatanen) with a glimpse of his future if he doesn’t quit drinking. “It is the point he realises that he will die if he doesn’t stop.” And thus Maustetytöt are harbingers of a happy ending after all.
One side-effect of a pessimistic outlook on life, indeed, is that it can positively surprise you. In March last year, the UN’s annual World Happiness Report rated wellbeing in Finland as the highest in the world, for the sixth year in a row.
In 2024, the Karjalainen sisters will bring their special brand of joy to the rest of Europe, with a string of dates in Germany, France and Sweden in May. They will be setting off from different locations since Anna now lives in Helsinki and Kaisa in Tampere. “We used to do everything together like twins,” Kaisa says. “But at some point you realise you have to–”
“Get a life,” Anna butts in, and there’s a shadow of a smile on Kaisa’s face as she completes her sister’s sentence: “Get a life and not depend on each other the wrong way.”
In 2009, my research group found that newborns possess the ability to discern a regular pulse— the beat—in music. It’s a skill that might seem trivial to most of us but that’s fundamental to the creation and appreciation of music. The discovery sparked a profound curiosity in me, leading to an exploration of the biological underpinnings of our innate capacity for music, commonly referred to as “musicality.”
In a nutshell, the experiment involved playing drum rhythms, occasionally omitting a beat, and observing the newborns’ responses. Astonishingly, these tiny participants displayed an anticipation of the missing beat, as their brains exhibited a distinct spike, signaling a violation of their expectations when a note was omitted.
Yet, as with any discovery, skepticism emerged (as it should). Some colleagues challenged our interpretation of the results, suggesting alternate explanations rooted in the acoustic nature of the stimuli we employed. Others argued that the observed reactions were a result of statistical learning, questioning the validity of beat perception being a separate mechanism essential to our musical capacity. Infants actively engage in statistical learning as they acquire a new language, enabling them to grasp elements such as word order and common accent structures in their native language. Why would music perception be any different?
To address these challenges, in 2015, our group decided to revisit and overhaul our earlier beat perception study, expanding its scope, method and scale, and, once more, decided to include, next to newborns, adults (musicians and non-musicians), and macaque monkeys.
Newborns possess the ability to discern a regular pulse— the beat—in music.
The results, recently published in Cognition, confirm that beat perception is a distinct mechanism, separate from statistical learning. The study provides converging evidence on newborns’ beat perception capabilities. In other words, the study was not simply a replication but utilized an alternative paradigm leading to the same conclusion.
When we employed the same paradigm with macaque monkeys in 2018, we found no evidence for beat processing, only a sensitivity to the isochrony (i.e., regularity) of the rhythms. This suggests that the evolution of beat perception unfolded gradually among primates, reaching its pinnacle in humans and manifesting with limitations in other species like chimpanzees and various other nonhuman primates. It provides further empirical support for the gradual audiomotor evolution hypothesis I outlined in my 2019 book The Evolving Animal Orchestra, a hypothesis that addresses the similarities and differences that are found in rhythm perception (and production) between human and nonhuman primates. It suggests the connection between the motor and auditory brain areas to be more strongly wired in humans as opposed to chimpanzees or gibbons, while mostly lacking in macaques.
What does this study say about the origins of music, and why does it matter? When we integrate the findings of the new study with our previous work, we now have converging evidence from two distinct paradigms indicating the functionality of beat processing in newborn infants. This adds weight to the argument for a biological foundation of beat perception itself. The study not only contributes to our understanding of the biological underpinnings of musicality but also underscores the intricate and multifaceted nature of our capacity to perceive and engage with rhythmic elements in the auditory environment. As such, music is not solely a cultural phenomenon but also possesses deep biological roots, apparently offering an evolutionary advantage to our species.
“I needed space, I needed freedom,” Akhmetshina said. “I’m half Tatar, half Bashkir. If you look at the history of these small nations, we were constantly traveling around mountains, the forest, living in small communities that constantly moved around.” Her affinity with Carmen runs deeper than music, she said. “It’s kind of in my blood.”
Ethnic difference is not a factor in Cracknell’s production, which instead highlights gender and class tensions. For the choreographer Ann Yee, this was an opportunity to develop dances free of castanets and flamenco clichés. She described Carmen’s allure as connecting more to psychological yearnings than to Orientalist fantasy. “We’ve hooked into this idea of liberation and wildness, about what is on the other side of the journey, the border,” she said in an interview. “It’s this wild appetite that exists in Carmen and which radiates through the people that she is a part of.”
Yee said that removing “Carmen” from the Andalusian context also helped to sharpen its feminist message. “If you are looking too hard to situate it in one place, it becomes more difficult to realize that this could happen anywhere.” By the time Carmen meets her death, Yee suggested, “we can all hold ourselves accountable.”
“Women are still killed by their partners on an enormous scale in most places in the world,” Cracknell said. “And we are obsessed with that narrative.” In her production, she emphasizes the number of witnesses who watch José’s jealousy turn progressively more menacing without intervening.
In the Act III confrontation that results in Carmen being pushed to the floor, not one of her fellow smugglers steps in to help. Instead it is Micaëla, the character Bizet created as Carmen’s opposite and rival, sung here by the soprano Angel Blue, who offers a helping hand. Carmen accepts it, reluctantly, but lets go of it so quickly that she comes to her feet in an embarrassed stumble.
Cracknell said it was Blue who had come up with the idea in rehearsal. “Angel just instinctively walked over and helped her up,” she said. “It became this incredible, simple moment of solidarity between these two stepping outside of the trope of two women being pitted against each other and fighting at all costs to win the man. And in that moment, Micaëla’s choice was to support another woman and to see her as a victim in her own right.”
A thrilling group that I thought had gone for ever – so it was amazing to hear this, how fresh it is and yet so recognisable. My partner of 20 years died very suddenly of a brain aneurysm in October 2022 and I so wish he could have heard Caution to the Wind. It moves me immensely. Tracey Thorn and Ben Watt have always been so eloquent about love and loss, and about the joy of music and partying. Heartfelt ballads, pounding drum’n’bass, songs that play with the form of music itself – there’s a lot to love. In my own loss I’ve taken to listening to music a lot when driving; Fuse has been a constant in my car at all times of day and night since I bought it. Liz Cooper, 62, New Zealand
I’ve loved Jung Kook’s singles, but since Golden dropped, I haven’t stopped listening to the whole album. Please Don’t Change, Hate You and Yes or No have been my favourites. The versatility of different styles Jung Kook is playing with is unbelievable. I had a burnout in 2018 and I was badly depressed. It took me two years to get back to normal life. I was scrolling my phone when I found BTS, and therefore Jung Kook. After that I have been a super fan. They literally saved me when I thought of giving up. Heli, 38, Finland
As a teenage boy in the north-west during the 1990s, I felt alone in loving Blur when all my mates were mad into Oasis. I’ve followed Damon Albarn in all his guises for nearly 30 years, and this was probably his best year. Songs like The Narcissist and The Heights will sit proudly among the best of Blur’s career. The overall tone of the record leaned more into classic Damon-melancholia, with understated but beautiful played backing from Graham, Alex and Dave. Tears were shed at Wembley, where I took my two eldest boys (also big fans, obviously). Pure, unadulterated heartwarming stuff. Ian Harrison, 42, Amersham
‘Every track is an utter delight’ … Mac DeMarco. Photograph: Gaëlle Beri/Redferns
A somewhat spidery and very woozy guitar-based instrumental album of 14 tracks that act like a sonic journey through some of the multi-instrumentalist’s favourite stops along the route of a road trip. Every track is an utter delight – with a personal standout being Edmonton – a track that I listened to on repeat before exploring the city for the first time myself earlier this year. Lee Thompson, 50, Nottingham
An astounding aural assault consisting of beautiful harmonic guitar and clear but confounding lyrics. A whirlwind of stories, sounds and spectacle that is captivating from the first beat to the last note. I am enthralled by Yves’ desire to continually push the boundaries of pop music and you can feel their touch on each individual sound, crafting an album that is both uplifting and nostalgic. This is as perfect as an album gets for me, and I cannot wait to see what they produce next. David, 34, Chicago
Zach Bryan’s album has it all. His music at times is simple: just him, a microphone and his acoustic guitar. The simplicity is beautiful in itself, but this allows the core of the lyrics to shine through. It allows the blue-collar spirit of the songs to be front and centre. I spend hours alone in the cab of a truck trying to provide enough for my family and all I want is to get home and cuddle my wife. So to hear my own lived experiences presented back to me is a really unique experience. Andy, 36, Reading
Late to the party, but 2022 and 23 are years where I dug deeper into Afrobeats. There are many contenders, but Fountain Baby is the funnest, coolest, most experimental album I heard this year. Afrobeats just seems to go in so many directions all at once and the talent pool seems vast. Thank you Amaarae – and Eddie Kadi on BBC Radio 1Xtra for pointing the way! Benny G, 51, Hong Kong
The songs on this album are so beautifully constructed they elicit both sobs and laughter – sometimes in the same song. In a few meticulously chosen words he expresses the relatable anguish, frustration and confusion that is so much a part of modern life. Musically, Isbell unabashedly samples styles from the best rockers in history and pushes those styles to impressive levels, providing delight and revelation without mimicry. Isbell is in the shortlist of the best rock musicians working today – perhaps ever. Weathervanes is a “desert island” album. Rick Boyer, 69, Solana Beach, US
‘Heavy metal reggae works so amazingly well’ … Skindred Photograph: Dean Chalkley/Skindred by Dean Chalkley
I saw this album recommended from Louder magazine, and that they were a Welsh band. It was my first time listening to them, and now I’m an avid fan. It’s just a feelgood album that makes you smile. I like to listen while walking my collie or when cleaning the house. I never, ever considered the heavy metal reggae genre before, but it works so amazingly well. It’s one of those moments when you find a band you wished you had found sooner. Daniel Butler, Wales
Flamingods – Head of Pomegranate
In this album, I really liked the fusion of contemporary electronica and Middle Eastern influence. The album is multi-paced, and the vocal layering and harmonies are fabulous. Flamingods played the Ventnor fringe festival in July and they were superb. I loved that the musicians rotated duties in bass, drums and keyboards, and the vocalist had an interesting theremin. Warren Kerr, 60, Isle of Wight
Raye has the ability to move between rap, blues, retro pop and then deliver the most beautiful soaring passages that you expect from the Adeles and the Whitneys of this world. She speaks with wit, candour and brutality about deeply personal yet so widely-experienced issues such as sexual assault, eating disorders, addiction and unwise romantic choices; her gift is her ability to deliver killer blows with the most gorgeous sound. I also adore the recording of her performance of the album at the Royal Albert Hall. Get yourself a great speaker or set of headphones and blast Oscar Winning Tears, Ice Cream Man and The Thrill Is Gone and experience the range and emotion. If you aren’t moved in any way, seek help. Helen, 43, Birmingham
It’s so full of joy, and the video with its beautiful dancers just make me happy. As someone who has struggled with depression over the years, it’s the kind of tonic that no amount of medication can give. Dominic Fox, 60, Bristol
A tremendous set: short, punchy rock with witty lyrics, capped off by Olivia’s emotive voice. She kept The Grudge vague enough to be devastating, ironic, and hopeful despite the supposed Swift connection. I loved Sour but this album is better, if a little more complex. I’ve been playing Bad Idea Right? around 30 times a day since release. Album of the year came out early and kept going. Aaron, 25, London
Heartfelt … Reneé Rapp.
This is Rapp’s debut album, and it’s amazing. The variety of sound on Snow Angel is pretty impressive, and all the songs manage to feel heartfelt. Rapp has been candid about her bisexuality and ADHD on this album and in interviews, and a lot of that has resonated with me and many others. Overall, it’s a great album – I still think it should have been bigger, though! Helen, 20, Oxford
Although I’m a long-time fan of Brian Eno, I had not heard of Fred Again.. before this release, but now he’s my most listened-to artist this year. Like a lot of his catalogue, it’s a mixture of found lyrics, electronics and open space, and the collaboration with Eno works perfectly to create a gentle album which at times seems sombre, but has a quietly uplifting thread running throughout its 11 tracks. “Don’t you even think of giving up” – the refrain in Enough, my favourite song of the year – is the peak of the album, as it winds with delicate, ambient rhythm and spacious, conversational keyboards to a cosy close. Peter McLoughlin, 35, Belfast
This is a killer album. Mitski is so honest in her lyrics, and her instrumentals speak beautifully to the emotional content of the songs. There’s something in the album for everyone, whether you’re having the best or the worst day of your life. When Memories Snow is my favourite track. The building instrumentals and raw vocals make it the most beautiful, haunting song of the year. Charlotte, 19, Madison, US
Occasionally, an album comes along where literally every track is a classic – this album does that great trick of being uplifting and melancholy, often at the same time. At the phrase, “My mother said to me: enjoy your life”, I tear up every time. I like the album as it is so inventive and emotive and I really like the fact that it is written from the perspective of queer love. It’s also a great album to dance to in your kitchen. Mike Church, 60, Brighton
Raven is an example of how an album should not only be consistently excellent, but flow together and reward the listener for listening in the order it was intended. There are a number of showstopping moments on the album, namely Contact, Let It Go and On the Run, but it really culminates in the album’s centrepiece, the title track. A fantastic blend of electronic and R&B. Kevin, 28, Berlin
Nas – Magic 3
Nas’s rapping is simply light years ahead of the majority of current MCs, which is no mean feat when you consider that this album served as a celebration of both his and hip-hop’s 50th birthdays this year. Hip-hop has typically been seen as a young person’s genre, with very few artists managing to age gracefully and remain relevant beyond their initial breakthrough success, yet with Magic 3, Nas has shown he can still compete three decades into his career. Will, 38, Nottingham
I became a Swiftie late in the game. Her earlier albums never felt like my Taylor albums, but this re-release breathed new life and possibilities into the listening experience. Now both versions coexist in my collection, her voice is now more mature, and songs like Better Than Revenge updated to remove the more problematic lyrics like “she’s better known for the things that she does / on the mattress” to “he was a moth to the flame, she was holding the matches”. It reminds us all of the slightly unfortunate things we may have said in our youth, and that it’s time for new memories. Marc Wright, 36, Manchester
John Oates says he has “moved on” from his time as part of beloved rock duo Hall & Oates, and that he prefers to live “in my present.”
In a move that shocked fans, Daryl Hall, the other half of the duo, filed for a restraining order against Oates in November. Hall argued in a lawsuit that Oates’ plans to sell his share of a joint venture would violate a business agreement between the two.
In Wednesday’s “Behind the Velvet Rope” podcast, Oates told interviewer David Yontef that he’s proud of the work of Hall & Oates, but that it’s in the past.
“You can’t ignore the fact that the Hall & Oates catalog of hits and the 50-year career will always trump almost anything that Daryl does on his own or I do on my own, which is OK, because I’m very proud of that music,” Oates said. “I think we made music that will stand the test of time.”
“But, at the same time, I’m not very nostalgic,” he said. “I make the analogy of what it’s like when you go to a great museum, and you’re really excited to go and see all the beautiful paintings or the exhibits or whatever it might be, and then near the end, your feet start to hurt and you say, ‘You know what? I can’t wait to get out of here.’ That’s kind of how I feel about it.”
John Oates, left, and Daryl Hall in happier times, on April 10, 2014.
When asked if there was a song he’d be happy never performing again, Oates, 75, replied: “To be honest with you, I’m not really touring with Daryl these days, and I’m doing solo shows.”
“I have moved on. It’s a matter of living in my present,” he said.
Hall & Oates formed as a duo in 1972 and went on to dominate charts throughout the ’70s and ’80s with hits such as “Out of Touch,” “Maneater” and “Rich Girl.”
The duo have never officially broken up, performing together as recently as October 2022.
But Hall, 77, claimed in his November court filing that the battle over Oates’ attempt to sell his stake in their Whole Oats Enterprises to music publisher Primary Wave amounted to a “global divorce” and was the “ultimate partnership betrayal.”
Oates said in his own filing that Hall’s statements were “inflammatory, outlandish and inaccurate.”
The matter will be decided in a confidential arbitration process.
Oates spoke more about his solo career on the “Behind the Velvet Rope” podcast, touching on his time on the TV show “The Masked Singer,” his opinion on Taylor Swift (he’s a fan), and his plan to release an EDM version of Marc Cohn’s “Walking in Memphis.”
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At HuffPost, we believe that everyone needs high-quality journalism, but we understand that not everyone can afford to pay for expensive news subscriptions. That is why we are committed to providing deeply reported, carefully fact-checked news that is freely accessible to everyone.
Our News, Politics and Culture teams invest time and care working on hard-hitting investigations and researched analyses, along with quick but robust daily takes. Our Life, Health and Shopping desks provide you with well-researched, expert-vetted information you need to live your best life, while HuffPost Personal, Voices and Opinion center real stories from real people.
Help keep news free for everyone by giving us as little as $1. Your contribution will go a long way.
At HuffPost, we believe that everyone needs high-quality journalism, but we understand that not everyone can afford to pay for expensive news subscriptions. That is why we are committed to providing deeply reported, carefully fact-checked news that is freely accessible to everyone.
Help keep news free for everyone by giving us as little as $1. Your contribution will go a long way.
As the 2024 presidential race heats up, the very foundations of our democracy are at stake. A vibrant democracy is impossible without well-informed citizens. This is why HuffPost's journalism is free for everyone, not just those who can afford expensive paywalls.
We cannot do this without your help. Support our newsroom by contributing as little as $1 a month.
As the 2024 presidential race heats up, the very foundations of our democracy are at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a vibrant democracy is impossible without well-informed citizens. This is why we keep our journalism free for everyone, even as most other newsrooms have retreated behind expensive paywalls.
Our newsroom continues to bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes on one of the most consequential elections in recent history. Reporting on the current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly — and we need your help.
Support our newsroom by contributing as little as $1 a month.
