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When Taylor Swift posted a photo of herself leaning back and smiling, her first six studio albums scattered in front of her, on Friday (May 30), the party was on.
Swift’s announcement that she had successfully purchased the master recordings of her first six albums, for an undisclosed sum from investment firm Shamrock Capital, was met with jubilation by her millions of fans. Swift finally had full control of her intellectual property, in a byzantine music industry where such ownership was incredibly difficult to come by, even for the biggest superstars. The importance of such artistic freedom was not lost on Swift, who rightfully treated the occasion as a hard-fought celebration in a letter to fans on Friday. “To say this is my greatest dream come true is actually being pretty reserved about it,” she wrote.
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As even casual pop culture observers likely know by now, Swift spent over a half-decade re-recording her back catalog to combat this previous lack of creative ownership, with Taylor’s Version albums of 2008’s Fearless, 2012’s Red, 2010’s Speak Now and 2014’s 1989 offering faithful re-creations under her domain. Not only did these re-recorded albums prove wildly successful – as fans rallied around the vision and motivation of their favorite artist, and helped 1989 (Taylor’s Version) score an even bigger debut than the original album – they also inspired real industry change, from other artists exploring ways to re-record their own material to label groups reworking standard contracts to prevent them from doing so.
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Still, the news that Swift had bought back her masters was met with some consternation about the future of the Taylor’s Version albums: Swift wrote that her 2006 self-titled debut was fully re-recorded, while Reputation (Taylor’s Version) was not. “Full transparency: I haven’t even re-recorded a quarter of it,” she wrote of her 2017 full-length.
So will the long-sought-after Reputation (Taylor’s Version) ever get completed? Will Taylor Swift (Taylor’s Version) receive a release date in the near future? What’s the point of a re-recorded album, now that Swift owns all of the original albums? And what do we do, moving forward, with the four Taylor’s Version albums that did get released?
We don’t know the answers yet, but we know how much the Taylor’s Version albums have already given us – including “All Too Well (10-Minute Version),” an irreplaceable linchpin recording in her catalog.
We’ll see if and when this project gets completed, how the Taylor’s Version re-recordings will age, and what versions of her hits and deep cuts fans will gravitate toward in the future. But just because the battle is now over, it’d be shortsighted to declare all for naught. The four Taylor’s Version albums presented her back catalog to a new generation – helping first to prime fans for the globe-conquering, catalog-revisiting Eras tour, and then to help cement her career year while the trek was underway.
Plus, fans received over two dozen unheard “From the Vault” songs — castoffs from the original albums that Swift reworked to include on her Taylor’s Version releases. These previously unheard goodies across the bonus cuts on the four re-recordings ranged from collaborations with Maren Morris and Fall Out Boy, to a late-breaking radio hit in the effervescent Red (Taylor’s Version) dance-pop track “Message in a Bottle,” to another Hot 100 chart-topper in the wistful “Is It Over Now?,” from 1989 (Taylor’s Version).
Which brings us to the greatest “From the Vault” song, and the one that stands as the greatest musical legacy of the entire re-recording project. When Red was released in 2012, the five-and-a-half minute “All Too Well” was positioned on the track list as an extended songwriting showcase in between shorter, more radio-friendly pop singles like “I Knew You Were Trouble” and “22.” While those hits helped Swift transition to pop superstardom with 1989 two years later, the power of “All Too Well” as a richly detailed examination of a failed relationship endured, becoming a fan favorite in the years following Red.
The song, and its cult status, also marked an important inflection point for Swift as a storyteller. A year before Red (Taylor’s Version) arrived in 2021, Swift pivoted away from top 40 on Folklore and Evermore, using an indie-folk aesthetic to explore different characters and narratives with the same care as one of her fiercely embraced album cuts.
A 10-minute version of “All Too Well” had long been teased, and the release of Red (Taylor’s Version) proved to be the perfect occasion for its unveiling. Any Swift purist could have been reasonably worried about the decision to nearly double the length of one of her best-loved songs. Yet the supersized version of “All Too Well” was not overstuffed — instead, “All Too Well (10-Minute Version)” towers above the original. Expanding the song’s world of stray thoughts and heartbreak totems while expertly navigating the story’s twists and turns, Swift turned a for-the-fans album cut into an authoritative epic.
With 10 minutes to work with, Swift lets each new detail of “All Too Well” simmer without building to a boil. The profane keychain that gets tossed her way, her subject’s refusal to “say it’s love,” the inquisitive actress, the charming chats with her father, the heartbroken 21st birthday — each new line is woven into the tapestry of a reflection that already exists, and Swift delivers them with varying degrees of frustration and regret.
Most of Swift’s songs wouldn’t improve if pushed to the 10-minute mark, but the structure of “All Too Well” — verses stacked upon one another, chorus lyrics shapeshifting to reflect her curdling emotion — allows for the bulked-up format. By the time the song starts to fade out with the refrain “Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there,” the passage of time is made explicit, as Swift’s recollections are stored in a time capsule that needed to be made a little bit bigger. Sure, there are new Easter eggs for fans to pore over and peruse – but nothing about “All Too Well (10-Minute Version)” feels forced, and that’s why it provoked such a strong reaction upon its release.
All Too Well: The Short Film, written and directed by Swift, was released along with the 10-minute version, and she performed the song in full on Saturday Night Live the day after its release. With so much pre-release hype and release-weekend promotion, “All Too Well” shot to the top of daily streaming charts immediately – and one week later, the song sat atop the Hot 100, the first Taylor’s Version track to come anywhere close to the chart’s peak. The flashpoint of excitement around its release demonstrated Swift’s still-rising commercial power, about a year before she made it unignorable with the record-setting success of 2022’s Midnights.
It also clued in countless casual listeners to one of her best songs. “All Too Well” isn’t just a fluky chart hit; the song now stands as a defining work for Swift, and an encapsulation of her legacy as a modern songwriter. In the future, critics, writers and historians will need a song to represent Swift’s cultural impact, and that song may very well be “All Too Well” – which simply wouldn’t have been the case without the Taylor’s Version moment.
That impact was on full display during the Eras Tour, where “All Too Well” was performed in its 10-minute incarnation as the final song in the Red portion of the show. Each night, stadiums full of Swifties sang along to its fourth, fifth and sixth verses, and bellowed “F—k the patriarchy!” with uninhibited glee.
Now that Swift’s Taylor’s Version project has entered a new phase of existence, those sing-alongs are worth considering as part of its legacy. “All Too Well (10-Minute Version)” wasn’t just a commercial ploy, or catnip for the critics. It’s now an anthem for all of us.

There was a time when Cynthia Erivo could glide around town on her Razor scooter in peace. “Don’t laugh!” she quips as she reminisces about those halcyon days while sitting in a cozy loft above a cavernous Los Angeles studio. “I’ve been doing it for years!”
Whether maneuvering New York’s busy streets or transporting her from her L.A. home to a nearby studio to record voice-over work, Erivo’s reliable kick scooter was once her preferred mode of transit. But even a decade ago, she was warned that her hobby wasn’t sustainable with the life she was building. “[Director] John Doyle said to me, ‘Cynthia, you’re not going to be able to do that for very long,’ ” she recalls. “And I was like, ‘But why? I’m good! It’s fine!’ ”
His prediction ultimately came true. In the years since making her 2015 Broadway debut in Doyle’s production of The Color Purple, Erivo has transformed from buzzy theater ingenue to certified, capital “S” star by practically every metric. At just 38, the multihyphenate is already nearly an EGOT (she’s only missing her Oscar, despite three nominations); has starred in prestige TV series like The Outsider, Genius and Poker Face; paid tribute to musical legends at the Kennedy Center; and, most recently, scooped up that third Oscar nom with Wicked, the highest-grossing musical adaptation in film history.
Along the way, Erivo hasn’t lost sight of what matters to her, using the star power she has accrued for good. When she publicly came out as queer in 2022, she cited the importance of helping “some young Black queer actress somewhere” feel less alone in the industry. At the top of 2025, she took home GLAAD’s prestigious Stephen F. Kolzak Award for her continuing commitment to promoting visibility for the LGBTQ+ community. And in June, she’ll bring her talents to the massive WorldPride celebrations in Washington, D.C., making sure that everyone hears her voice — including politicians aiming to strip her community’s rights.
For her latest endeavor, though, Erivo decided to take the same energy she puts into both her community and others’ projects and turn it inward. She didn’t take to the stage or the screen, but rather the studio, looking to reinvigorate her solo music career — and the result is her revelatory second album, I Forgive You, out June 6 through Verve and Republic Records.
Back in September 2021, Erivo released Ch. 1 Vs. 1, her debut LP of adult contemporary tracks where she aimed — and, reflecting today, thinks she failed — to provide a soundtrack to her life up until that point. “It never quite felt like it was mine,” she says. She recounts working with a group of “lovely” producers and writers who provided plenty of new ideas and sounds — yet the project itself underutilized her own vocal dexterity. “It didn’t feel like it was one uniform story.”
Cynthia Erivo photographed April 21, 2025 at Milk Studios in Los Angeles. McQueen dress.
Erica Hernández
So when she began thinking about her next album, she started from scratch. On the advice of Wicked co-star Ariana Grande, Erivo met with Republic Records co-president/COO Wendy Goldstein to discuss her strengths and figure out a path forward. What could Erivo do that nobody else could? “Everything fell into place really fast from there,” Goldstein recalls of their first meeting.
The answer was simple: Erivo’s greatest asset is and always has been her protean voice, an instrument that belies her diminutive frame and lets her craft entire worlds of intricate harmonies. Her mother has said she first heard her daughter sing beautifully at a mere 18 months old, though Erivo has since said she first recognized her own innate talent around the ripe old age of 11. Following a brief stint studying music psychology at the University of East London, she dropped out, later enrolling at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London (where she now serves as vice president). After graduating in 2010 and spending three years performing around the United Kingdom, Erivo landed a breakthrough role in the off-West End production of The Color Purple in 2013.
“Anyone who saw her in that performance knew pretty quickly that she was just a generational talent,” says Jessica Morgulis, Erivo’s longtime manager who began working with her a year before The Color Purple transferred to Broadway in 2015. “In all my days of going to the theater, I’ve never seen the entire audience leap out of their seats mid-song in applause.”
So when it came to creating her own music, Goldstein asked why Erivo wasn’t leaning into her biggest strength. “When you hear Cynthia’s voice, you’re transfixed. I felt like we needed to lead with that,” Goldstein says. “We spoke a lot about how to really highlight her vocals, using it as an instrument with stacking and layering to create beautiful production.”
That, Erivo says, unlocked something for her. “Wendy is a very singular human being who just gets it,” she says. “It was the first time that everything became really clear. To have someone who understands who you are as a musician and a singer and an artist was just a new experience within this space for me as an artist.”
The subsequent project, executive-produced by Erivo and her longtime collaborator, Will Wells, spans pop, soul, jazz, disco, gospel and more, with her voice front and center. But more importantly, after a career dedicated to portraying characters, I Forgive You is just Erivo, telling the world who she is.
“People see a very cookie-cutter version of me, and we do this thing with people where we isolate them or crystallize them in one space and go, ‘She’s just that,’ ” she says. “People don’t know me as a musician in the way they’re getting to know me now.”
As Erivo arrives for our conversation, you’d never guess that she’s coming off one of the biggest performances of her life. Less than 48 hours earlier, she was belting out her forthcoming ballad, “Brick by Brick,” and Prince’s “Purple Rain” alongside maestro Gustavo Dudamel and the Los Angeles Philharmonic during a surprise appearance at the orchestra’s Coachella set. “I was so surprised at how vast that audience was,” she giddily admits. “It was unbelievable.”
Though Erivo remains humbly awestruck by the ensemble inviting her to perform for her biggest crowd to date, her own reputation has preceded her from the jump. “I mean, for anyone who likes singers, all of our algorithms were just filled with endless bootlegs of her singing her f–king ass off,” all-star songwriter Justin Tranter says of her Tony Award-winning Broadway debut.
But while the world was tuned into Erivo’s jaw-dropping performances of The Color Purple’s showstopper “I’m Here,” she found herself focused on something else entirely while playing the character of Celie: her sexuality. “I hadn’t really ever explored [my queerness], I hadn’t really ever discovered or understood or really learned about it,” she says. “I was like, ‘Oh, I get to play this woman who is exploring and learning about her own queerness at the same time as trying to discover what love is.’ This sort of wonderful thing happened at the same time — I got to do the same for myself.”
Erivo had been out to her close friends and family since her early twenties, but playing Celie for two years began to open the door to come out publicly, as fully embodying the experience of a queer woman eight times a week slowly made her more assured. “It’s like your feet finally hit the ground,” she explains. “Even the work that I started doing, whether I’m on a set or in a studio, I just felt a lot more relaxed.”
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Erica Hernández
With that newfound sense of ease came a wave of projects. After closing out her run in The Color Purple, she booked her first film roles, in Drew Goddard’s Bad Times at the El Royale and Steve McQueen’s Widows, holding her own on-screen with stars like Viola Davis and Jeff Bridges. With her starring performance in 2021’s Harriet, Erivo earned her first pair of Academy Award nominations (for best actress and best original song) — had she won, she would have become the youngest person ever to earn EGOT status.
“How lovely is that? To be in this position at this point in my career is one, a privilege — but two, a massive surprise,” Erivo says of her near EGOT. “To be one of those people that’s on the edge of even looking that in the face is quite wonderful.”
Morgulis credits Erivo’s sharp instincts, saying she’s “almost never wrong” when picking projects and pointing to her client’s multiple viral performances at the Kennedy Center Honors, where Erivo has honored Dionne Warwick, Julie Andrews and Earth, Wind & Fire, as an example.
“Often, the producers of something like that will be leaning one way, because whoever it is you’re paying homage to has some favorite song of theirs they want to hear,” she says. “But Cynthia knows herself so well and will say, ‘I know I can really give this individual the best performance from me if we do this other song.’ And every time, she nails it.”
Yet despite her many successes, Erivo says nothing could have prepared her for the cultural phenomenon that was Wicked. She knew the film would do well, but she never predicted it would break box-office records and earn a whopping 10 Oscar nominations. “It’s insane,” she says. “And it’s insane while it’s happening, too.”
Of all Wicked’s achievements, none shocked Erivo as much as the soundtrack’s immediate Billboard chart success. It bowed at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 (the highest debut for a film adaptation of a stage musical in the chart’s history), ruled the Top Album Sales and Vinyl Albums charts, and landed seven songs on the Billboard Hot 100, with her own version of “Defying Gravity” earning the highest position among them at No. 44. “The cast was like, ‘Oh, so it’s just in the ether now? People are just listening to it on their way to work at this point?’ ” Erivo recalls. “It’s really wonderful.”
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Erica Hernández
The second part of the duology, Wicked: For Good, will arrive in November, and Erivo warns fans unfamiliar with the source material that her viridescent heroine, Elphaba, enters much darker territory in the second act. “She’s able to access her rage more,” she says. “The scent I wore changed. The makeup changed. Little shifts that bring you to a more mature version of who Elphaba becomes. And she is delicious in this next one.”
The Wicked Witch of the West isn’t the only one who has changed in between the two films’ releases — with rave reviews and another Oscar nomination for her stellar performance in the first act, Erivo became a household name practically overnight. That transition has occasionally felt scary, especially when it comes to maintaining her personal privacy.
“I think there is an interesting thing that happens, where it’s assumed that because you’re in the public eye, everything is for everyone,” she explains. “But being in the public eye does not stop you from being a human being — you just have eyes on you now. I am totally OK to share some of my life — whenever you see me on the stage, whenever you hear me sing, whenever you see me act, I am sharing. But that doesn’t mean that everything gets to be yours. I should be able to keep something for myself.”
That “something” likely includes her visible, but never publicly confirmed (including for this story) relationship with lauded producer-writer Lena Waithe. “You also wouldn’t want me to share everything — nobody should have to, because then what’s left?” she says with a half-smile. “You can be grateful, but you can still have a boundary.”
But thanks to the groundwork she has laid over the course of the last decade, Erivo says she doesn’t feel flummoxed by her sudden stardom. “I’m glad that I had those breakthroughs before — it’s school for what might come, and it means that here and now, it doesn’t feel like it’s going to sweep me up,” she says. “A lot of us fear that if this happens, you’ll sort of lose yourself. But I still feel like myself.”
There is a moment in “Play the Woman,” an early, R&B-adjacent standout from I Forgive You, when Erivo taps an unexplored topic in her career thus far: unabashed desire. “I could run these hands of mine down the map of your spine/Feel how your heat against my fingertips could make the blood in me rush,” she croons on the pre-chorus before blooming into her glossy head voice: “Could you play the woman for me?/Go slow, ’cause I like what I see.”
Erivo had long wanted to explore sensuality in her acting. But when the parts didn’t materialize, she decided to take matters into her own hands. “Honestly, you rarely get that opportunity as Black women anyway,” she says. “So I was just like, ‘Well, if I don’t put it in my own music, I’ll never get to put it anywhere else.’ ”
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Erica Hernández
That ethos runs through I Forgive You, as Erivo breaks out of the boxes that the industry at large constructed around her ever-growing career while simultaneously giving voice to the parts of herself that she was once too scared to reveal in public. Whether she’s providing a grooving rumination on self-doubt with “Replay” or delivering an airy ballad about finally finding connection after years of trying on “I Choose Love,” Erivo lays all her cards on the table.
“It wasn’t scary to write because I really didn’t know how else to write it. It had to come,” she explains. “The scary thing was getting ready to share it. When something is personal, you hope that people understand that your humanity exists and they’re not just listening to random stories that come from nowhere.”
When going into their sessions with Erivo, Tranter was already well-aware that she had one of the best voices in the business. What they quickly discovered was just how adept a songwriter she was, too. “She’s a real visionary in that she knows what the f–k she’s doing,” Tranter says. “It’s not even that I was surprised, it’s just that the world doesn’t know her that way. You don’t know what to expect when someone like Cynthia hasn’t been able to reveal all her talents yet.”
That’s a recurring theme in Erivo’s career: One of the main hurdles she faced while working on her debut album was record executives who were unsure how to utilize her talents or market her. She recalls one telling her, “You can sing everything, and we don’t know what to do with you.” Her response? “ ‘Why don’t we just try everything, then?’ ” she remembers. “ ‘If I can do it, then why not try?’ ”
It’s a refrain Morgulis returns to often. With her client’s aspirations spreading across multiple fields of entertainment, the manager says that it’s vital for her to help Erivo remain in control of the projects she’s working on. “That conversation of not putting her in a box and, importantly, not allowing others to put her in a box, is happening on every single level of her team,” Morgulis says. “That act alone kind of sends a message to the industry of who she is and what direction she’s going in.”
And recently, Erivo has applied that philosophy to discussing her identity. After coming out publicly on the cover of British Vogue in 2022, she assumed a rare position in the entertainment business as a Black queer woman in the public eye, and it’s a platform she takes seriously.
Her decision to come out, Erivo says, had less to do with her own sense of self-actualization and more to do with the deep sense of care she feels toward her community. “I think I was actively looking for those who were encouraged to be more themselves,” she says. “I can’t change a person’s opinion of me; if they want to feel some way, there is nothing I can do about that. But I was so excited about being able to at least be one more face where someone could say, ‘Oh, my God, she did it and can still do it. She’s still creating, she’s still making. So maybe I can also do the same.’ ”
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Erica Hernández
In hindsight, Erivo says she didn’t feel any trepidation about her decision to come out and didn’t notice any significant change in the roles she booked or the feedback she received for her performances. “Maybe I’m naive and wasn’t paying attention to it, because I’m sure there was [pushback],” she confesses.
The one notable exception came in early 2025, when the Hollywood Bowl announced that Erivo would star in the titular role of its upcoming three-night production of Jesus Christ Superstar. A predictable wave of conservative outrage followed at the thought of a Black queer woman portraying Jesus Christ, accusing the actress and the production itself of “blasphemy.”
Erivo can’t help but laugh. “Why not?” she chuckles with a shrug, before adding that most of those comments don’t seem to understand the critical lens of the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. “You can’t please everyone. It is legitimately a three-day performance at the Hollywood Bowl where I get to sing my face off. So hopefully they will come and realize, ‘Oh, it’s a musical, the gayest place on Earth.’ ”
It’s easy for Erivo to dismiss a vocal minority decrying the mere announcement of her casting in a limited-run performance; it becomes much harder when the conversation turns to politics. Like many, she has watched in horror as the Trump administration has attempted to strip the rights of and federal protections for queer and trans people across the country through a flurry of executive orders.
Erivo doesn’t pretend to have all of the answers. “I’m trying to be a person you can get positive things from, because that is the only way you can balance this stuff,” she says with a sigh. But when she looks at something like the current administration’s “anti-woke” takeover of the Kennedy Center — the place where she has delivered some of her most iconic performances to date — she can’t help but feel a sense of dread. “I don’t know who gains what from that. I hope that it comes back,” she says. “It’s really sad to have to watch this happen to it. The Kennedy Center is supposed to be a space of creativity and art and music for everyone.”
Yet Erivo refuses to let that dread rule her actions. It’s part of why, during Pride Month, she will perform a headlining set at the closing concert for WorldPride in Washington, D.C., alongside Doechii. “I want to encourage people to not decide to just tuck away and start hiding and not being themselves anymore, because that is exactly what they want,” she says. “The more yourself you are, the more you are in front of people who don’t necessarily understand, the better understanding starts to happen.”
Tranter points to that sentiment as a perfect example of why Erivo has become such a powerful voice in the entertainment industry. “Cynthia being Black and queer, and being one of the most famous people alive in this moment while our community is dealing with what we are dealing with, is no mistake,” they say. “For someone as talented as her to be a beacon for young Black queer people all over the world, to be in the most successful movie and releasing a gorgeous, poetic album in this moment is no accident.”
It’s apparent that Erivo holds herself to an incredibly high standard. As Morgulis rattles off the singer’s schedule for the next few months — wrapping up filming on the forthcoming feature film adaptation of Children of Blood and Bone, hosting the 2025 Tony Awards and performing at least six solo concerts around the country, among dozens of other obligations — she must pause for a breath. “It’s a lot,” she says. “But she can do it.”
But today, the singer stops short of perfectionism. Even in a career as fortunate as hers, she knows that she cannot be everything to everyone. “I used to say, ‘I don’t want to make any mistakes. I don’t want to get anything wrong,’ ” she recalls. “What I’m leaning toward is just trying to be the best version of myself, full stop. And hopefully, the best version of myself is enough for those who want it.”
What is Industry Rule #4080?
I’ll answer that for you.
Record companies are shady, or at least that’s what A Tribe Called Quest tried to warn us about on “Check the Rhime” way back in 1991 off their classic album The Low End Theory.
That’s the concept of Brooklyn rapper Rome Streetz and Kansas City producer Conductor Williams‘ lead single from their collab album they dropped today. I visited the set during the second shoot day on crisp spring afternoon in Brooklyn, where Rome and Conductor were shooting a scene in which they stood in front of a white cyc background and had images depicting slavery projected on to them. The video for “Rule #4080” shows them dealing with shady record execs and visiting a plantation. One scene that sticks out, however, was when they were both in the middle of a green field which harkens back to the album’s title.
In Danny Boyle’s 1996 film Trainspotting, starring a young Ewan McGregor, the four friends take a train to the middle of nowhere in Scotland to try to enjoy the great outdoors as they try to wane themselves off heroin. “I relate to that movie, because they’re just trying to come up, it’s just a bunch of friends,” Rome told me between takes as he sat on a couch in a backroom of the creative venue House of Brooklyn. “They doing some wild s–t, but ultimately they trying to elevate all of their situations.”
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And for the most part, Rome and Conductor have become close friends on and off the court, branching off on their own from under the Griselda umbrella to put this album out on their own. “This is the spin-off. It’s like if Tommy and Cole had their own show,” Rome joked as he references the ’90s sitcom Martin, after I brought Westside Gunn and Griselda up.
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Trainspotting features 14 tracks of pure, unadulterated rap music with West Coast mainstay Jay Worthy and the Wu-Tang‘s very own Method Man serving as the only two guest appearances.
Check out our conversation below.
When did you guys first start talking about doing a full length together?
Rome Streetz: After the first couple sessions when we were in Arizona, honestly. Once I did Kiss the Ring, I just realized that I had so many records from Conductor. I just kept listening and wanted to see how I can make them doper. The first time I linked with Conductor and heard the beats that he was making, I’m like, ‘Yo, these sh—s are insane.” I was like, ‘Yo, I’ll do a whole album with Conductor,’ and when we talked about it we said, ‘Let’s do it.’
When it comes to working with Conductor, it’s a certain zone that I stay in. I can’t even describe it. I think it’s because people love what we do. That’s probably some of my best work, the fans hold it in such a high regard. I know what I gotta do. I gotta jump out the gym on this s–t. The chemistry was there the first time we linked.
What is it about Rome that you f—k with?
Conductor Williams: Rome on the rap side is just elite. He never surprises me in the fact that he’s elite, like that’s always going to be — but it’s an attention to detail. It’s like listening thoroughly to the sample, understanding where the pockets are that he can navigate. And then sometimes he chooses other pockets that he could do his thing, but he chooses the other ones. So it’s almost like Sudoku, as at a certain stage with Rome. I send a beat with intentions, and then it’s like, “Yo, which way is he gonna play this thing?” And that’s the joy that I get out of working with him. It’s a master class of street rap, but also just like pen to paper, if you just read the lyrics, it’s just as impressive. I’m just a fan of high level art, and that’s what he is with the rap s–t.
And even as a person, as we continue to like build and be in situations, in the same studios for weekends at a time, it’s just like high level detail to everything. It’s clothes, food, flavors, colors, you know, all the things. And that’s the type of stuff that I that I feel, you know? So, finally I felt like, “Man, he’s like me.” I found my group. This is like a musical cousin. I found him. Out of all the people in the world, I found a guy that understands what I’m doing. We don’t even got talk. It’s not like a chatty catty poker night, strip club relationship. It’s just like one that God set up, man. I can’t explain it.
So, when y’all first linked it, did you let him listen to a pack or did you construct stuff around him?
C.W.: I was playing beats out of a pack I had made when we were all in Arizona and we went through them, and he selected the ones he wanted. We exchanged numbers, and I was texting him beat after beat that he hadn’t heard while we were in the same room. Even when I got back home to Kansas City, I kept sending him beats.
R.S.: I probably sent some songs right back. [Laughs.]
C.W.: It was pretty organic in like, finding somebody that not only matched my output, but could match it creatively. He was just out of that mastery level where he said, “Yo, the faster you can make them, the faster I can connect.”
R.S.: He sent me a pack, I’d listen and be like, “Oh s–t, let me hop on this right now.”
Are these songs old or new?
R.S.: It’s a mix. Honestly, we have a whole batch of songs. Some new, some old.
C.W.: Some are really old. There’s songs on here that we made in Arizona that didn’t make Kiss the Ring. Just extra songs.
Why is the album called Trainspotting?
R.S.: That’s just a crazy movie… Sometimes the crazy sh— can just inspire a lot of things. Trainspotting is one of my favorite movies. It’s really left-field and weird. It’s visually striking movie, and this is a sonically striking album. Also keeping the train theme going, with Conductor.
C.W.: After the fact, they put me on. They had me watching that s–t. I was like, “What?” N—as told me to watch it. I was at the crib and I had dropped the boys off to school, and I cooked up. So, it’s like 10:30-11 and I had leftover Bar-B-Q from Gates thinking I’m gonna sit down and watch me a little show. [Laughs.]
That’s a crazy flick to watch first thing in the morning. Gotta watch that late night when you’re zooted.
C.W.: Man, he was in the toilet. There was s–t everywhere.
R.S.: That’s when I seen it the first time. Mad late, I think it was on Cinemax or something. It was a long time ago. I remember thinking, “What the f—k is this? This movie is f—king crazy.”
C.W.: Yeah, n—as f—ked my lunch up. I think I got in the groupchat that day too and was like, “What y’all got me watching?” The most cringeful part is after he smashed shorty and found out that she was getting ready for school the next day. They were just in the club, how the f—k she get in here? You smash and then the next morning, you wake up and she’s got her school clothes on. I remember just like freaking out for him. It made my stomach hurt.
The album is like the movie: It’s exciting, it’s rapid. It’s rap record after rap record after rap record after rap record and then it’s done.
Conductor Williams
Photo Rob
Did you guys talk about concepts for some of the songs? You have a song about the record industry. Then you have a couple songs about shorties on there too.
R.S.: It was more like how the beat spoke to me. I heard the beat. I’m like, what else am I gonna rap about? “Before I be a slave, I’ll be buried in my grave.” How can I relate that to my life? And it’s like, you know what? That’s the record industry, right there. You could be trying to live out your dream, but you so hasty, you might sign a f—ked up deal. You might get a f—king 20-page contract, motherf—kers will just be like, “Where’s the money? How much I’ma get? It’s a lot of clauses to how much you might get. You might get a free week of UberEats and a Supreme jacket. Sometimes what glitters ain’t always gold.
It felt like you were showing off your versatility a little bit with the subject matter.
R.S.: Even that song “Heartbreak.” It’s a conceptual joint, but it’s more so just like the beat speaks to me. Sometimes the beat will just take you in a direction, and I went with it instead of going the opposite way. Sometimes you need those joints especially if you’re making a complete album. I gotta give you that type of s–t. Everybody loves Kiss the Ring, and I feel like I went and I gave you a little bit of everything on there. I went to a lot of different places with that. I see the formula that I gotta follow when it comes to me making my own records to get the type of response from the fans that make them go, “This is insane.”
You mentioned in a previous interview that we did with you and Daringer that you prefer pulling up to a studio to work with a producer. How collaborative is the process when you guys are together?
R.S.: It’s literally 1-2-3. We play a beat, I just go in If I don’t have something already, I’ma figure it out. Also it’s like, who knows? We might do something tonight from the ground up.
That’s what I’m saying — so you’ll build a beat during a session?
C.W.: Yeah, I’ll come prepared with some ideas and stuff like that. But it really is like the most honest, rawest form of collaboration. This is the beat I made out of it, then he hears it and responds, then we link together to see what happens, and after that, it’s a game of what if? What if we add this, what if we put this hook on it? What if we that? That’s the most fun part — and we talked about a little bit earlier — that collaborative thing. I felt this, and I put the gospel sample on there. He heard the gospel sample and was inspired to make a record about the record industry.
Even if you were going in with a different idea, he hears it, it sparks something, and it’s like, “Let’s go in this direction.”
C.W.: Yeah, I can’t tell him how to feel. My entire ethos, in that way, is just like, kill the ego. I can’t tell him that he didn’t feel the record industry off of that. I can only tell him if something is mathematically bad, too many words in a bar that’s f—king the groove up. Stuff like that.
R.S.: Even with that song, I did have that beat for a while before I actually wrote to it because it was just one of those things where I felt like I had to say something. I couldn’t just rap. I wanted to make something conceptual like let me use the sample and bring out a message. Sometimes music is just to entertain, sometimes music is informative, sometimes music is emotional.
So, at that particular time, I wanted to make sure I said something that would stick. A lot of people that are in the music industry, and they don’t even know how the s–t works, they just want to be a pure artist, and sometimes labels take advantage of that s–t. Or, you know, sometimes people just want the money. Sometimes people are happy with living out their dream that they just want to get to it. Being in the music industry is a constant learning experience.
And you guys are with a label in Griselda that essentially figured out the indie game in the Internet era.How has that been, working with Gunn?
R.S.: It’s literally, you eat what you kill. If you ain’t out there killing s–t, you ain’t gonna eat s–t. You can’t wait for West to sit you down and be like, “This is what we gonna do?” And I feel like he don’t really f—k with people that’s waiting for him. He gonna f—k with you if you a killer on your own. He does so much, it’s like, “Listen, bro, I’m gonna throw the ball up and just dunk that s–t. And after that, keep scoring. That’s all it is. This was some s–t that we just did. We met through West, but we just spun off.
Let’s talk about the concept of the video a little bit.
R.S.: It’s basically just playing off of what I said in the song. Relating ancient slaves to modern-day slaves, because you could really just be a slave in the music industry if you sign a f—ked up deal.
And you guys shot some of it at an old plantation upstate.
C.W.: I wanted to be involved for this particular video. My folks are from the Blue Hills of Missouri. My grandfather was a sharecropper. So, some of the things in this video touched my heart so much so to where I was stuck, and Coach understood that, and kind of moved me around some scenes and made me feel comfortable. But I’m very much a part of the video.
Did you make these beasts in the crib? Do you have a studio now?
C.W.: I had a studio in Kansas City that I was renting a room out of but they sold the building, so I didn’t move everything into my basement. So, wifey and I are building a crib and we’re going to put a studio in there.
Yeah, you coming up — because you watch your old vlogs, you’re like in a basemen or an attic with a makeshift one.
C.W.: That’s the grass roots of it. I’m just making beats, and I’ve worked very hard to get very good and that shit don’t mean a studio. It means you sitting with the machine. I just need time alone to build.
R.S.: I record a lot of s–t myself in the crib, and then send it to Conductor. Because I could go off in the studio, but once I started recording at home, it’s a different level of comfortability with your creativity. If I write it right then and there, I can record it right then and there. Sometimes I’ll go to sleep and I’ll dream of rhymes. I wake up and write it, or I’ll wake up in the morning and have so much creative energy that I have to write or record right away. Sometimes I might write a rhyme, leave it for days, and be like, “Damn, I forgot how I even said this.” I like being able to knock out right then and there.
C.W.: I don’t think everybody can do that. You got to be at such a level where emotionally you can connect to what you’re thinking and you can rap anywhere, in any condition. You got to be really good to be able to one-take these records.
R.S.: It’s literally like training because I used to give myself challenges even before I had any type of notoriety. I felt like I had to be able to cook up rhymes at any given moment because when I do get to where I want to go with my career, there might be situations where I’m in the studio and it’s like, “Yeah, let’s work now. It’s not like I’ll write this when I get the idea, when I get the feeling. It’s like, nah, bro, how dope are you?”
That’s what Kiss the Ring was. All those days I was preparing to be able to go to the studio and lay something down on the spot. The beat is on right now. We’re trying to see if you really are what you sound like. Like, can you do this in front of my face? Can you hibachi this s–t? I train myself for that. You don’t just get this good overnight.
Do you mix and master your beasts yourself?
C.W.: Good side note, and I’m glad you asked that. So, the mastering tech that we used is Dave Cooley — and Dave Cooley mastered Madvillainy, Donuts, a bunch of indie rock stuff.
So you sought him out.
C.W.: I’ve been wanted to work with Dave, but unfortunately, my status wasn’t at that level yet. But when I reached out to him when I was working with Rome, I got to thinking about some of the records that to me sonically never die like Madvillainy and Donuts, I thought of Dave. And he was just ecstatic, and told me that he heard Rome on a DJ Premier track he did with West. Then he listened to what I went him, he listened to Kiss the Ring, and he listened to Noise Kandy 5. So, it was like a discovery moment for him, which gassed me more to make this record.
Do you guys have a favorite record on the album?
R.S.: It varies for me the more I listen to it.
C.W.: My favorite is “Lightworks.” And it’s my favorite because I love Dilla so much, and so I had to try to figure out how he cut the original sample of “Lightworks” to make it say what it sounds like it’s saying. I found a lot of joy in trying to be like, “Yo, how did he make it say light up the spliff?” And it’s not “light up the spliff,” it’s “light up the sky,” but you got to cut it a certain way. Dilla chopped the vowels out to make it say, “Is death real?” on “Stop.” It’s just like science and technical stuff.
My favorite track from you guys is “Chrome Magnum.”
C.W.: I think “Chrome Magnum” represents the type of music we love to make together. It don’t sound super boom-bap-ish — it’s just like industrial, ugly.
R.S.: I just like the unorthodox way that Conductor’s beats sound.
I mean, your flow is kind of like that, too, so it makes sense now that you say that.
C.W.: Another one that’s really dope that came from a fun moment. is “Ugly Balenciaga’s.” I sent it to him to try to make him laugh. I didn’t even want you to rap over it. I sent it because I just thought it was funny, and he didn’t say nothing back until he sent a song back.
R.S.: That’s one of my favorites that I’ve made.
C.W.: I was like, “N—a, you rapped on this?”
R.S.: Hell yeah.
C.W.: And he went crazy. [Laughs.]
R.S.: That’s the thing. Some s–t like that is a challenge to me. A beat like that will make me go, “Okay, how am I gonna approach this s–t? How am I even gonna attack it?” Because you gotta attack it in a certain type of way to make it entertaining. I like to have no floor and somehow figure out how I’m gonna make it across the s–t.
C.W.: That’s wild.
It’s like a balance act. Are you guys planning on doing another tape together?
C.W.: I don’t know, man. My schedule is crazy, his schedule crazy. But ultimately, this is my brother, so yeah. I just don’t know when. I think the fans kind of know that too.
People been asking for a collab tape from you guys for a while.
R.S.: We’ve been making music for so long together, we have more songs than what we gave y’all.
05/30/2025
The brothers from Virginia Beach finally released a proper single to their highly anticipated reunion album ‘Let God Sort Em Out.’
05/30/2025
When SEVENTEEN debuted on May 26th, 2015, all odds were stacked against the group. Formed by relatively small label Pledis Entertainment (acquired by HYBE in 2020), the 13-piece ensemble faced an uphill battle in the competitive K-pop scene — not the least because of their humble origins and unusually large lineup. “It feels like it […]
While stadium shows dominate this year’s live music headlines, there’s another interesting trend occurring at the arena level that’s signaling a new frontier for the live music industry – and it’s steeped in the sweet riddims of the Caribbean.
Vybz Kartel’s victorious comeback has dominated most of the conversation around Caribbean music this year, but Worl’ Boss’ two-night stint at Brooklyn’s Barclays Center came nearly a year after a string of historic headlining shows that have made Elmont’s UBS Arena New York’s hottest new venue for Caribbean acts. Elmont (a neighborhood that sits on the edge of Queens and Long Island) and Brooklyn are two New York City areas densely populated by Caribbean-Americans, which echoes the incredible impact of Caribbean immigrants across the city. You’ll find Dominicans in Manhattan’s Washington Heights; Jamaicans, Lucians and Trinis galore in Brooklyn’s Flatbush neighborhood; and at least one flag from every country in the West Indies along Eastern Parkway in BK.
Last spring (April 14, 2024) — about eight months before he made history with NPR’s very first Tiny Desk soca set – Machel Montano headlined UBS Arena for a 40-year career anniversary concert hosted by Caribbean Concerts & Sonjay Maharaj Events. Coming two years after the King of Soca teamed up with Jermaine Magras, president and CEO of Jay Upscale Marketing and Promotions, for Barclays Center’s first-ever soca headlining concert, Machel’s sold-out UBS show grossed over $885,000 from 8,350 tickets sold, according to Billboard Boxscore. That show kicked off a head-turning run of Caribbean-headlined shows at the four-year-old arena.
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Just three months after Machel lit up Elmont, Grammy-winning reggae and dancehall legend Buju Banton mounted a pair of sold-out shows that served as his first U.S. concerts since his 2011 incarceration. The two shows grossed $4.5 million from nearly 30,000 tickets sold, setting the scene for a historic close to UBS Arena’s 2024 run of Caribbean-headlined shows.
“Stepping into UBS Arena for the first time in my life was much more than I expected,” reflects Montano, who’s previously performed at NYC’s two other major arenas. “I hadn’t heard about the venue before, and I was in anticipation to see what the vibe [would] be. The production setup was wonderful, the backstage experience in the dressing rooms, the staff, everybody [and everything] was professional and on point to welcome soca music and the soca vibration.”
A few days before the world rang in 2025, iconic Haitian konpa band Carimi reunited for its first live performance in eight years at UBS Arena. Comprised of founding members Richard Cavé, Mickael Guirand, and Carlo Vieux, Carimi is something like “the Jackson 5 or the Backstreet Boys of the Haitian community,” says Magras. “They’re [their] R&B boy band.” In the nearly two-and-a-half decades since they formed in NYC back in 2001, Carimi has achieved international success through its blend of sociopolitical commentary and traditional konpa rhythms. Their 2013 Invasion LP reached No. 2 on World Albums, and their eight-album strong catalog continues to enamor konpa lovers across generations. While their Dec. 27 concert didn’t launch a full comeback, the show did mark the first U.S. arena show headlined by a Haitian act – and the band completely sold out the venue. With over 15,000 tickets sold, Carimi’s reunion show grossed over $2.4 million.
The Carimi show is an interesting nexus point for many reasons, mostly because of the band’s connection to the demographic breakdown of the Elmont neighborhood in which UBS resides. In Elmont, you’ll find a large Haitian population that’s even bigger than the already sizable number reported by the U.S. Census. The nature of cities like New York is that the census only tells a part of the story regarding the demographic breakdown of the city’s residents.
“With the Caribbean community, a lot of people tend to look at the census — but if you’re undocumented, you ain’t trying to give the government your information. It’s a benchmark, but it’s not that accurate,” explains Magras. “When we did a heat map of ticket sales for the Carimi show, a majority of people buying tickets came from Queens, in and around UBS [in Elmont].”
Now that America’s Caribbean population – spearheaded by a massive post-Civil Rights Era immigration wave, and, later, a 1980s and ‘90s wave — has established itself across several generations, they have the numbers and buying power to assert themselves as dedicated consumers in the live music space.
Before his current position as senior vice president of programming at UBS Arena, Mark Shulman spent over 25 years promoting shows across New York, including storied venues like Hammerstein Ballroom and Kings Theatre – two spots with smaller capacities that Caribbean acts often frequent. While Caribbean acts still headline those venues, alongside newly renovated music halls like the Brooklyn Paramount, their graduation from theaters to arenas signals “a maturing of the music and fan base,” according to Shulman.
“When we speak of the maturing of the audience, Caribbean shows were always late-selling events,” he explains. “Now, we’re seeing more advanced sales, and that enables the artist to plan better. They get to add a second show and plan accordingly, because the audience is being so proactive in their buying patterns.”
The original fans of acts like Carimi and Machel Montano and Buju Banton are, by and large, in more favorable economic positions than they were two decades ago. They’ve gotten to root themselves in their new homes, and they likely have the disposable income to buy pricier arena tickets. But their maturation only tells half of the story of how UBS, in particular, has become such a hotbed for Caribbean headliners.
For Valentine’s Day 2025 (Feb. 14), Grammy-nominated reggae giant Beres Hammond, Billboard Hot 100-topping reggae icon Shaggy and Grammy-winning dancehall legend Sean Paul teamed up for a joint concert that grossed over $1.6 million from 12,980 tickets sold. The following month (March 28), WAV Music Fest – featuring Spice, Dexta Daps, Chronic Law, Kranium, Skeng, Kraff and Valiant – grossed over $1.2 million from 10,360 sold. With five $1 million-grossing Caribbean-headlined shows in eight months, UBS Arena has emerged as not just a go-to spot for Caribbean acts stopping in NYC but also as a key venue in the evolution of Stateside Caribbean music consumption. And the arena’s management did it by embracing the existing immigrant population in an era where rampant gentrification seeks to stifle New York’s quintessential diversity.
Before UBS opened its doors in 2021, most arena acts across genres chose between performing at Midtown Manhattan’s Madison Square Garden and Downtown Brooklyn’s Barclays Center, which has only been around for 13 years. Prior to the turn of the decade, very few, if any, Caribbean acts were playing arena shows, period. Thanks to the increasing Stateside popularity of contemporary reggae, dancehall, soca and konpa music — and the opening of UBS — Caribbean acts are now getting an opportunity that they weren’t granted in the past.
Of course, NYC’s Caribbean population doesn’t exclusively attend Caribbean-headlined shows. If they wanted to see arena acts before 2020, those folks, who primarily live in Brooklyn (outside of downtown) and Queens, would either have to trek into the city to hit The Garden or waste away hours in downtown traffic. Thanks to its location, UBS is a venue that’s comparatively more easily accessible for the city’s Caribbean crowd. It’s also the only NYC-area arena with its own parking lot, a key draw for attendees who would rather hop in their cars than deal with the subway.
“When you get [to Barclays], you gotta look for parking,” says Magras. “The time that it takes me to [travel within] Brooklyn is probably the same time it takes me to jump on the belt and head to UBS. I think the customer weighs all those things out.”
While consumers get to cut down on travel time, promoters and artists also get to save a few dollars when mounting shows at UBS instead of Barclays or The Garden. Promoted by George Crooks’ Jammins Events, Banton’s dual comeback shows, which cost around a million dollars each, would have been at least $500,000 more expensive had they gone up at The Garden. “You’re paying for the location and the brand, you can’t take that away from [MSG],” he said. “But it’s very expensive. UBS is a lot more reasonable, and I hope it stays that way.” As the arena continues to grow in popularity, it’s certainly likely that it’ll become more expensive to mount shows there, which is probably why UBS banks on their accommodating nature to keep artists at their venue.
Ahead of the Carimi show, Shulman “personally got on a Zoom with all the band members [to] hear their thoughts and hopes for the show and how [UBS] could accommodate them in any way possible.” Magras, whose Jay Upscale company promoted the Carimi show, seconds that sentiment, noting how willing the UBS team was to educate themselves on the band via the decks he pitched.
“[UBS] was more accommodating than probably any other venue that I’ve worked with,” he tells Billboard. “It was never ‘no’ as a final answer — they always helped find a way to make things work. [To help promote the show, they helped secure] comedians, a conference with about five media houses, the Carimi guys, lights and everything.” Crooks also echoes those feelings, saying, “Mark understands the business because he comes from doing business with a lot of Caribbean acts.”
But it’s not just Shulman’s experience that helped UBS so quickly become a stronghold for Caribbean headliners; it’s also the care he and his team take in listening to the arena’s staff, a notable chunk of whom are local Caribbean-Americans themselves.
“30% of our staff come from the local community,” Shulman says. “I would have conversations with them about soca music and reggae and konpa, and it was great to hear from them. I can [call on] my music experience, but it’s so much more validating when I can speak to members of the community who live with this music. That type of knowledge and experience can’t be replicated just by doing some research.”
UBS’ open relationship with their staff also mirrors the dynamic they’ve fostered with local vendors, navigating the present-day live music venue ecosystem with a distinctly Caribbean and community-centric approach. When Caribbean shows visit UBS, the arena rotates its in-house food and drink vendors with items that correlate to the nationality of the headlining act; they also invite local food trucks and businesses to set up activations in their expansive parking lot. It’s a relatively minor move that only makes the arena feel more “of the people” than its competitors. (Crooks acknowledges that the venue’s efficacy in this area still can vary between shows, saying he and his team head “some interaction with local vendors [for the Banton shows], but not as much as [they] would have liked to.”)
And the arena’s staff also understands the importance of not overstepping its bounds when it comes to engaging with the culture. “When you look at Caribbean people, they’re natural entrepreneurs,” notes Magras. “Once we see that there’s something big going on, we all converge and find [different] ways to make money. There [were] about 10 after-parties [for the Carimi show] — we [hosted] none. Why? Because we understand the ecosystem and what it means for other people to make money as well. We could have sold flags, but we allowed the flag man to sell his. We [also] brought in Haitian food vendors and liquors and barbeque brands.”
With two additional Caribbean-headlined shows this year – Aidonia (May 3) and Beenie Man (May 24) – UBS is looking to continue its hot streak in 2025 as various styles of Caribbean music ride a crossover wave that’s carrying the next generation of stars. From Yung Bredda’s Zess-infused soca hit “The Greatest Bend Over” and Moliy’s Billboard chart-topping Afro-dancehall smash “Shake It to the Max” to YG Marley’s reggae anthem “Praise Jah in the Moonlight” and Joé Dwèt Filé’s globe-conquering konpa banger “4 Kampé,” the 2020s are offering up a slate of stars that could be the next Caribbean headliners to grace UBS – and arenas across the country. They could even make that jump in the next 12 months, according to Shulman, as the success of Caribbean legacy acts eases promoters’ qualms about taking on younger stars – like Shenseea or Dexta Daps – looking to make the leap from support acts to headliners.
In just four years, UBS has become a preferred New York tour stop for Caribbean headliners – so much so that scheduling conflicts were the only barrier stopping the arena from hosting Kartel’s comeback shows – by leveraging its location, nourishing their relationship with the local population, and understanding the limitless potential of Caribbean talent. As the arena has established a distinct identity, it’s also helped buoy an entire region’s music, which was already creeping into a new era of Stateside crossover success.
But what about arena stops outside of New York? Last year, Buju Banton announced his Overcomer Tour, which was initially set to visit 14 arenas across the U.S. Ultimately, three shows were outright cancelled while a further five engagements have yet to have their rescheduled dates announced. Of the seven shows that he did perform on the tour, Banton grossed an average of $1.5 million per show from around 10,800 tickets sold. Notably, those seven shows visited North American cities with sizable Caribbean populations – NYC, Atlanta, Tampa, Toronto and Washington, D.C. — signaling that future Caribbean tours might not yet have accrued the power to headline arenas outside of specific areas. Nonetheless, a Caribbean act headlining seven North American arenas on a single tour indisputably marks a new era for West Indians in the live music space.
“I think the sky’s the limit [for Caribbean acts in the live music space],” stresses Shulman. “I’ve seen the growth and I’ve seen the performances. The shows are energetic, the fans are enthusiastic, and there’s an incredible vibe. It’s hard to envision any limit to just how high it can go.”
A new era of rap beef is upon us. One where diss tracks get dropped left and right, forcing curious fans to scramble around trying to catch up.
Enter Joey Bada$$.
Since the Brooklyn rapper kicked things off on New Year’s Day with “The Ruler’s Back,” there have been 22 tracks released (and counting), with a flurry of them coming after Joey’s recent “Red Bull Spiral Freestyle” verse, where he addressed the drama that he started. “Since ‘Ruler’s Back,’ they been tryna measure up,” he rapped. “Look, my name ain’t Rick, but I talk slick, don’t press ya luck/ And I ain’t taking no words back, I’m with all that (All that) But this ain’t gotta turn to nothin’ else, let’s keep it all rap.”
He then referenced Kendrick’s infamous “Control” verse from 2013 when he named names and invited his peers to a friendly competition. “First off, I could never hate the West Coast,” Joey rapped. “But since n—as comin’ for Joe, f—k it then, let’s go/ N—as must’ve forgot what Dot said on ‘Control’/ There’s still a buncha sensitive rappers in they pajama clothes, I guess/ This ain’t no East versus West, I just think that I’m the best, as a matter fact, I know.”
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And you know what? He’s right.
So far, Ray Vaughn, Daylyt, Reason, and AZ Chike have stepped up for the West Coast with a couple decent tracks here and there, but nothing really to write home about. I was into AZ Chike’s decision to step into the ring with his song “What Would You Do?,” but that effort was squashed when Joey called him “Ass Cheek” and brought along battle rap vet Loaded Lux to add insult to injury on their reply entitled “My Town.”
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Speaking of Lux, a handful of New York rappers have stepped up to the plate in Pro Era member CJ Fly, Brooklyn rapper Kai Ca$h and Jadakiss’ son Really Jaewon. And while I dug Kai’s “Knicks in 6” record, the offerings from the East Coast heir have been mainly forgettable already — but they’ve managed to show the type of solidarity the West showed during the Kendrick and Drake battle, which I have to commend them for. Somebody else from NYC needs to drop a crazy diss record over a Cash Cobain beat or something, though. Let’s get everybody involved.
Anyway, there have been fans clamoring for the Griselda guys to get involved, but they haven’t taken the bait yet. Rome Streetz tweeted out a popular meme clip of Stephen A. Smith to express how he feels about people trying to drag him into this thing — and Benny the Butcher seems perfectly fine being a spectator like the rest of us, tweeting out earlier that he felt like Joey was “handling himself exceptionally well.”
And you know what? He’s right.
The Brooklyn rapper hasn’t dropped a full-length project since 2022 and has been focusing on a bubbling acting career in recent years. So, when he randomly dropped his Conductor Williams-produced track with a shot at the West Coast’s recent dominance, fans were taken aback. He then followed that up with a three-song EP in Pardon Me in February, which included the already released “Sorry Not Sorry” and the aforementioned “The Ruler’s Back,” and he told Red Bull that he’s planning on releasing a lot of new music this year in an interview.
If that’s the case, then he’s doing a good job with his album rollout — even if the stakes of this battle are pretty low compared to others in rap’s history. His songs “The Finals,” “My Town” and “Crash Test Dummy” are the strongest out of the bunch to me as of press time. Filing a TDEast trademark and buying the domain so that his new battle releases can live there was also a nice touch.
Call it East Coast bias, or maybe blame it on the Knicks being in the Eastern Conference Finals — but Joey is winning this thing so far, and I’m not sure it’s been close.
Rico Nasty is done waiting for permission. The rage-rap innovator, known for bending genre and unapologetically redefining feminine rage, has just dropped her new album LETHAL via Fueled By Ramen (May 16).
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And true to its name, LETHAL is explosive, expansive and razor-sharp, a sonic evolution that fuses her iconic “sugar trap” roots with searing rap-rock chaos and surprising softness.
“It’s like we did the experimentation, and it kind of mixed up the potions of everything that came before,” Rico tells Billboard. “And now we’ve built this bionic titanium steel brick house of a b***h. Yeah. She’s just standing there like — please, want it”.
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The project comes after a transformative year for Rico. She cleared out her emotional closet, cut ties with her previous team, and — in the middle of a solo phase — got the call to perform with Paramore, leading to her new management. The clarity that followed is embedded in every layer of LETHAL, which was executive produced by GRAMMY-nominated Imad Royal.
“I had that pit in my stomach and I was like, I should just do it — what’s the worst that could happen?” she says about leaning harder into rock. “Once you start making music for other people, it takes the fun out of it. I had to grow up and evolve and realize I don’t really care about people’s approval anymore”.
From the shoulder-shrug defiance of lead single “TEETHSUCKER (YEA3X)” to the raw emotional core of tracks like “Smile,” Rico balances rage with vulnerability.
“It’s about my kid. I could be going through so much, and he always makes me laugh… In parenting him, I lowkey learned how to parent myself,” she says of “Smile,” a track inspired by her son. “Even though I’m talking about my kid, I’m also talking about seeing my kid and realizing, wow, he’s so much like me. And I’m still a child, like within my own right. In parenting him, I lowkey feel like I’ve learned how to parent myself too”.
But don’t get it twisted — LETHAL isn’t about playing nice. “Some people just don’t have the same morals as you, and that’s OK. That don’t make them a bad person,” she explains. “But when you stick your arm out for people and they don’t reciprocate, it can create resentment. I’m not going to let that harden me, though. I’m still going to be me”.
And that’s exactly what LETHAL captures: a fully-realized Rico, unfiltered and unbothered. She’s not looking to be copied — she’s looking to connect.
“I definitely did trailblaze this, and I’m not taking any other answer… From the fashion to the hair, the makeup—I definitely own it,” Rico declares.
“I want people to listen and feel free. Like, I’m not the only one who feels like this. I’m not the only person who sees this s–t. I’m not the only person who feels like the whole world revolves around me”.
If you have ever felt an unfamiliar ache somewhere deep inside – born of yearning, heartbreak or some other kind of romantic grief – then Matt Maltese probably has a song for that. His debut LP Bad Contestant, released via Atlantic Records in 2018, mixed piercing personal reflections with surreal, writerly metaphors involving lucid dreams, fish, wartime food rations and chocolate-based sexual exploits, all atop a warm guitar and organ combo.
At the apex of the record was the swooning ballad “As the World Caves In,” an apocalyptic depiction of an imaginary love affair between Donald Trump and former British prime minister Theresa May. The track experienced an unprecedented resurgence in 2021 when it broke into the U.S. Spotify Charts (No. 90) off the back of sudden TikTok virality, leading to Maltese finding new, unlikely fans in Doja Cat and BTS member V.
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It was the album’s dark humor, and how its author divulged his gnarliest impulses across 11 tracks, that set it apart upon release. Here, Maltese crafted narratives that feel immersive, brutal and soberingly real — though seven years on, he looks back on that era as a time where he felt “overwhelmed” by what the moment required from him: signing with a major label, topping “Ones to Watch” lists, putting out jaunty baroque-pop in a landscape that was dominated by post-punk acts.
It’s a feeling that first began gnawing at Maltese when he was deep in the songwriting for Hers (due May 16), his fifth studio album and most vulnerable and engrossing work to date. “I used to have lyrics that were often outrageous, which came from a combination of thinking I was smarter than I was while also not really knowing myself yet. I could never fully cry about something without being sarcastic at the same time,” he tells Billboard U.K. “But now, I’ve realised that I don’t get a kick out of being ‘shocking’ in my writing anymore.”
When we meet Maltese in a busy central London café, he is soft, eloquent and deadpan in conversation, often laughing when he makes such pronouncements – which repeatedly come with an explicit caveat about how privileged he is to do what he does. Spring is breaking through, and the glass-walled corner we find ourselves in lets in ample light. “At the start [of the creative process], I thought, ‘No one is in desperate need of a new Matt Maltese album. I knew it was worthwhile when I began producing it solely for myself,” he says, smiling.
He’s right in a way. Maltese has grown into a stunningly prolific musician with over a billion combined Spotify streams to his name. Alongside five full-length records (including Hers), he has released four EPs alongside 2024’s Songs That Aren’t Mine, a collection of covers of tracks by a diverse cast of musical inspirations, from Sinead O’Connor to Sixpence None the Richer. The record also featured vocal takes from rising acts Liana Flores, Dora Jar and Searows, the latter whom is signed to Maltese’s own imprint Last Recordings On Earth (via a partnership with Communion Records).
Elsewhere, he has quietly become an influential figure in the U.K. scene as a label boss and songwriter. He’s spent time working with Grammy winner Laufey, as well as British sensations Celeste, Jamie T and Joy Crookes; Maltese has also been sought out by newer names such as Etta Marcus and Matilda Mann. Despite being dropped by his label shortly after the release of Bad Contestant, he’s managed to spin that moment into a positive and collaborative ethos, one that has carried him through a trajectory that has been anything but conventional.
“At the beginning of my career, I was acting like Noel Gallagher when it came to the topic of co-writing,” he explains. “I used to think, ‘What a joke, who needs people to help them write?’. I was really quite snobbish about it. But then, things shifted when I turned a corner after having had my ‘period of failure’ by getting dropped. It was the ego knock I needed.”
In his early 20s, Maltese used an exaggerated version of himself as a Trojan horse to share his deepest feelings. Now, he understands that music is the place where he can find clarity and optimism. It’s what enables him to tell the truth and not let discomfort get the better of him.
This shift in mindset manifests itself in the cover art for Hers’ lead single, “Anytime, Anyplace, Anyhow,” which shows Maltese immersed in a moment of passion with his partner. At times he strips back the track’s gorgeous, tumbling arrangements – which, sonically, feel flush with the jitters of new love – to reveal little more than a gentle guitar. It forces listeners to consider his playful albeit blunt language, full of a sense of a worldview having been upturned: “I’m apoplectic looking at the stars/ They look like you with your top off.”
Maltese views Hers as a warts-and-all project about allowing yourself to fall in love when you are a wounded cynic. “It felt really good, for the first time, to sing about the physical side of being in a long-term relationship,” he says, stewing over a pot of tea. “So much of this record felt like I was dipping my toe into a whole new pool of emotion.”
Hers marks the first record that Maltese has produced entirely himself since 2020’s hushed and reflective Krystal. Across the LP, he is joined by friends from Wunderhorse (drummer Jamie Staples) and Gotts Street Park (guitarist Joe Harris) to flesh out his acoustic arrangements. “Pined for You My Whole Life” starts hazily, cracking open into a R&B-flecked melody two-thirds of the way through. “Always Some MF,” which tackles jealousy and deceit, sounding increasingly despairing before an enjoyably rambling piano solo takes over.
When Maltese takes these songs to stages across the U.K. and US through the fall, he says will do so without big displays or sets. Since becoming an independent artist, he has graduated to bigger venues year upon year (a night at London’s iconic Roundhouse is in the diary for November), but he would rather talk about the marvel of collaborative spirit than accolades.
“Getting out of my own head and supporting the visions of others has only pushed me further,” he notes. 2024 bore witness to two major milestones: his stage composition debut and the launch of the aforementioned Last Recordings on Earth. The former saw him partner with the Royal Shakespeare Company, writing music for a production of Twelfth Night. The latter, meanwhile, has allowed Maltese to share the learnings of his early career with Searows and new signee Katie Gregson-Macleod, a singer-songwriter from the Scottish Highlands.
Last year, Gregson-Macleod was dropped by a major label over creative differences, or “things that were not compatible with my vision of my life,” as she put it in a nine minute-long clip posted to TikTok in January. In the following weeks, she met Maltese for a coffee in London; the pair bonded over the parallels in their respective artistic journeys, leading to her landing a new deal through which she is releasing her Love Me Too Well, I’ll Retire Early EP in July.
From The Snuts to STONE and Crawlers, a series of U.K. indie and rock acts have similarly spoken out about struggling to fit into the major label system due to shifting commercial expectations, all having chosen to take the independent route in order to rebuild their respective careers. “Knowing our shared experiences, I felt at peace with stepping back into a label partnership if it was Matt at the helm,” Gregson-Macleod tells Billboard U.K. over email.“I just feel at ease, and confident with him by my side. For one, working with a songwriter I respect as much as Matt inspires me to constantly challenge myself. But also, there’s this quiet understanding, unwavering support and trust in me from his end that is really quite rare in this industry.”
Labelmate Searows (born Alec Duckart) concurs: “Matt’s kindness, talent, drive and humour have proven to me that art and passion can be your life’s work and you don’t have to sacrifice who you are in order to be successful. I have been so lucky to have his friendship and guidance, and understanding of who I want to be as an artist.”
Maltese attests maintaining a busy schedule to a work ethic gleaned from growing up with his Canadian parents in Reading, who would encourage him to travel into the capital as a teenager to pursue music further. Over time, he fell in with an emerging punk scene in south London, which furnished him with a close group of musicians (Goat Girl, Shame, Sorry) despite being worlds apart in sound and aesthetic from his peers.
“I was given a sense [by journalists] of being part of a quite elite group,” he recalls. “I was surrounded by all of these wonderful bands. We were all hanging out together, feeling like we were part of something special, and it’s really easy to get drunk on that – especially when you’re being given cultural capital.”
Press duties, in other words, became what Maltese had to do to help fulfill his passion of working with other creative people. He recalls, at age 18, being asked by a BBC radio station to record a cover of John Lennon and Yoko One’s “Happy Xmas (War Is Over),” only to turn the offer down in fear of “being seen as a sell-out” unless he was able to rework the song to his own pleasing.
He sighs at the memory. “It’s decisions like that that make me want to pull out my own skin. Though I look back and realize I was just a kid with an inflated sense of self, who was getting attention from lots of different angles. It’s been a process of reckoning with that time, really.”
Hers is marked by this exploration, of learning to loosen up and let go. Though Maltese says he still struggles to listen to his earliest material – particularly the jaunty and gruesomely funny “Guilty” – it’s his ongoing evolution that has taught him to remain curious, to never stay in one place for too long. For all his palpable excitement about the future, Maltese is feeling an equal amount of compassion towards where he’s been and what it has taught him.
“As you get older, you realize that everyone is flawed as hell. It’s a choice to not live in bitterness, particularly as someone that has had to re-angle the lens in which they view their own insecurities,” Maltese offers. “But weirdly, falling in love helps with all of that. It really does.”
Back during the summer of 2021, Adam Duritz said he was in the process of “tightening up” the songs for the follow-up to Counting Crows’ then-new Butter Miracle, Suite One EP. “When it’s right, we’ll get in and record them and put them out, and then play them (live), which is always the best part,” he told us.
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But Duritz didn’t expect to take four years, almost to the day, for that to happen.
Butter Miracle, The Complete Suite Sweets! comes out Friday (May 9) as Counting Crows’ eighth full-length studio album. It includes the four songs from Suite One, plus an additional five — the four Duritz was talking about during 2021, plus the opening “With Love, From A-Z,” which came later. He and the band are certainly happy with the result, but Duritz acknowledges it did not come easily.
“I really thought I’d finished the (new songs),” Duritz, who’d written the material at the same friend’s farm in England where he composed the Suite One songs, tells Billboard via Zoom. On the way back home to New York, he stopped in London to sing on Gang of Youth’s 2022 album Angel in Realtime, which he calls “one of my favorite things anyone’s done in the last 10 years.” That, in turn, changed his perspective on what he thought was going to become Suite Two.
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“I was suddenly thinking these songs I just finished aren’t good enough,” Duritz acknowledges. “They’re missing some stuff.” He felt one, “Virginia Through the Rain” was “perfect,” but the others were lacking. “I kind of had lost confidence in them,” Duritz notes, “and I sat on them for a good two years. then I wrote ‘With Love, From A-Z’ here (in New York) and thought, ‘That’s great — now I have to figure out what to do with this, ’cause it needs to go on a record right away!’ I’ve got to shit or get off the pot on these songs.”
The solution, he found, was to gather some of his bandmates — multi-instrumentalist David Immergluck, bassist Millard Powers and drummer Jim Bogios — to his home New York and woodshed those songs that had been put aside.
“The problem was that my sort of ambition for what they should sound like outstripped my ability to actually play them on the piano,” Duritz says. “I’m really good at arranging and singing, no doubt. I’m great at being in a band, but I’m not the player some of the other guys are, or that a lot of other songwriters are.
“So the guys came to the house and we went through them one by one and we loved them. They became great…and then we went into the studio only a few weeks later and knocked the record out in 11, 12 days — It’s by far the fastest we’ve ever recorded (an album) — but it took forever to do it!,” he adds with a laugh.
The Complete Sweets! new songs certainly demonstrate the merits of that extra effort. Taken as piece with the Suite One tracks they offer a Counting Crows amalgam, from the Band-like earthiness of “With Love, From A-Z” and “Virginia Through the Rain” to the sweeping, string-laden build of “Under the Aurora,” the power pop of the single “Spaceman in Tulsa” and the gritty guitar rock of “Boxcars,” which Duritz says was particularly challenging until he brought the other players in.
It is not a narrative, but The Complete Sweets! is certainly a conceptual whole. “I wasn’t trying to write a specific story,” Duritz notes. “But (the songs) just sort of fit together for me. I just felt like this was a little world I was creating, and it felt very fertile.” The songs find him expressing himself mostly through characters — which he started in earnest on 2014’s Somewhere Under Wonderland — than in the angsty first-person that was once Duritz’s stock in trade. In particular, the protagonist of “Spaceman in Tulsa” is clearly there in Suite One’s “Bobby and the Rat Kings,” which is the closing track on The Complete Sweets! and links the two groups of songs together.
“It’s definitely thematically tied together; I think (the ‘Spaceman’) did end up in ‘Bobby and the Rat Kings’ for sure,” Duritz acknowledges. “But I think even without that, that song would work even if there was no connection. But I wanted the connection to be there, ’cause I was vibing on that. I was digging writing about Bobby on this record. I think there are a lot of us like that in the arts who grew up wondering if we had a place in the world, wondering how we were going to fit in. We felt different from other people. We field weird.
“I think there’s a world of people who work in our heads, and when we find that it’s like we get to be the butterflies instead of just the caterpillars.”
Counting Crows asserted its place in the world during the 90s, after Duritz and guitarist David Bryson began working as an acoustic duo in the San Francisco Bay Area. With its filled-out lineup, Counting Crows generated buzz by playing in Van Morrison stead’s at his Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction during January of 1993 — seven months before the release of its seven-times-platinum debut album, August and Everything After and its band-defining hits “Mr. Jones,” “Round Here” and “Rain King.” Since then, Counting Crows has sold more than 20 million records worldwide and was nominated for an Academy Award for “Accidentally in Love” from Shrek 2 in 2004.
This year, meanwhile, marks the 20th for the current lineup, since “new guy” Powers joined in 2005.
“I always wanted to be in a band and stay together,” says Duritz. And even though he’s worked outside the band on a variety of projects — with the Wallflowers, Ryan Adams and other acts as well as films such as Josie and the Pussycats and The Locusts, and running a couple of record labels — Duritz contends that, “I never wanted to be a solo artists. I have no interest in that shit. It’s a hard thing to stay together as a band, and it’s not surprising to me we’ve lost a couple people over 30 years, but right now it feels like we can go on forever — except I know that nothing works that way, y’know?”
Nevertheless, Counting Crows is gearing up for its Complete Sweets Tour!, which kicks off June 10 in Nashville and runs through Aug. 23, with Gaslight Anthem supporting. And while forever seems like a big word, Duritz feels confident that the band will be with us for quite a while longer.
“I’m not tired of it at all,” he says. “There were points where I was having more trouble with myself emotionally, and the band’s stress was just too much. But our manager’s great now. Our lawyer’s great. I totally trust everybody. All that stress is gone. The band is so stable and great, and we’re still killing it.
“So we’re on our way again. Things feel good. Everyone seems to be in a really good place. It’s a happy time — and,” he adds with another laugh, “if even I can be happy, what’s to stop everyone else from being happy, right?”