Interview
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There’s a lot of things audiences might not expect when going to see Dicks: The Musical, A24’s new movie musical starring and originally created by comedians Josh Sharp and Aaron Jackson. From a capital-G Gay God (played by Bowen Yang) to emaciated puppets known simply as the “Sewer Boys,” the film revels in its own delightful weirdness from start to finish.
One thing audiences should expect from the new film though is a top-tier soundtrack. Composed by newcomer Karl Saint Lucy (an original collaborator of Sharp and Jackson’s when the show ran at Upright Citizens’ Brigade in New York) and music directed by industry veteran Marius de Vries, the music of Dicks is genuinely thrilling and fun, while further underlining some of the project’s more left-field comedic moments.
As de Vries tells Billboard over Zoom, bringing a balance of movie magic and campy theatricality to the film was vital. “We wanted to turn this into a movie that worked as a movie, but we knew that some of the theatricality of it all, both for comedic purposes and other purposes, was our friend,” he says. “So, while the material itself was heavily extended and revised, the ethos of the original was preserved in a way that I think was healthy.”
Below, Billboard chats with Saint Lucy and de Vries about how they each got involved with Dicks, what it was like translating the show’s absurdist humor into genuinely good music, and how Megan Thee Stallion‘s rap number nearly didn’t come together.
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I know it’s been a very long road to get here, so how are you two feeling about the film’s imminent release?
Marius de Vries: I feel fantastic, extremely relieved that it’s finished. It was a long journey in so many ways, with Karl having been involved in the original stage show, and me having met the twins seven years or so ago when the project was actually up and running somewhere else. There have been many twists and turns along the way, and many periods where it looked as if it wouldn’t get made. We got a burst of momentum, and we realized it was getting made, but we had to make it really fast. But then it kind of slowed down in post-production, and it took quite a long time to get it right. With all of that, I’m just thrilled to see it up on a big screen in front of an audience, and not on my desk.
Karl, take me back to the beginning of your partnership with Josh and Aaron onthe original stage show F–king Identical Twins in 2014. How early on in the process did they reach out to you to put the music together?
Karl Saint Lucy: Very early on. I knew Josh through Story Pirates [a comedy theater program], and I think that he and Aaron had just been set up as comedy partners at UCB when they first approached me. I was oversharing about some gay drama that happened while I was on tour with this children’s show, and they were like, “Oh, we’ve gotta get this person involved.” So they approached me, and over the course of something like six weeks, we got together in rehearsal studios at CAP21, and hashed this out. They came with the big beats of the story and most of the lyrics, but yeah, it was a very easy process.
What was your initial reaction to those initial story beats?
Karl: Oh, I was sold from the beginning. I think one of the things that worked early on about our partnership was that Josh and Aaron and I have always had a very similar comedic sensibility. Although I will say, when we were working on it, I hadn’t seen any of the staging. In the original show, there’s a scene with Josh and Aaron in a wheelchair f–king at the restaurant, and when I saw that for the first time, I was like, “Wow, I can confidently say that I have never seen this on a stage before.”
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Marius, you brought something up I wanted to mention; 20th Century Fox bought the rights to F–king Identical Twins back in 2016 and planned to release it; that stalled in production for six years before A24 came in and bought the rights out from them. What was that elongated process like for you two?
Marius: Yeah, I was immediately aware that we had a big challenge turning something that was a 30-minute piece of cabaret into a feature-length script. To be honest, that’s what I relished about the task. I could see a way forward, and they’d done a great job on the first pass of the script. So I was excited to get involved. I was somewhat skeptical about it having a home at Fox. I imagined what would happen is, we’d get a little bit of progress going, and then someone upstairs would finally wake up, realize what was going on and shut it down. Then, of course, the Disney acquisition happened, so that was, you know, a non-starter. With the greatest of respect to my friends at Disney, this is not a Disney film.
Can you imagine if this was released on Disney?
Marius: It’s kind of like Snow White, in a sense, right? In that, I guess, it’s got songs and a story? [Laughs.] Honestly, thank God we hit that brick wall and ended up at A24. The most important thing about the relationship with A24, which has been fantastic, is that they’ve been supportive of all of our creative instincts with no restraint at all — up until it came to considering what the title of the movie should be. Then there was a fairly bigger discussion about that, but that happened quite late in the process, and it took a little bit of getting used to; it’s like having a 7-year-old child who’s called something, and then all of a sudden, you have to start calling them something else.
As you mentioned, part of this process meant adding in more and more songs to the film, one of which is “Out-Alpha the Alpha,” Megan Thee Stallion’s blistering rap performance. How did you go about making this song that feels entirely different from a lot of the rest of the musical theater-specific melodies used throughout Dicks?
Marius: Well, when we were doing the additional writing and construction of material specifically for the film, which was well-over half of it, not including the score, we didn’t have any idea who was going to be cast as Gloria. So, we just wrote the song for a random actress that we imagined might be the kind of person that would be cast as Gloria. That person was not Megan Thee Stallion at all, so, when the casting conversation rolled out, and we learned that it would be Megan, we had this song — which was, I thought, really promising, but was in no way suitable for the force of nature that is Megan.
So, we had to very, very quickly go back to the drawing board, because it had to be completely re-styled, and it had to be done unbelievably quickly. She had a very limited amount of time to construct and record the rap, rehearse it on set, and shoot it. All of that process was very condensed into four or five days. So, we had to kind of pause efforts on all fronts at a very late stage in rehearsal, lock ourselves away, and come up with some sort of musical skeleton that we felt she wouldn’t find offensively inappropriate in terms of what was suitable for her to sing.
We sent over something that we thought was embarrassingly rough, but she was great. She rolled her sleeves up, turned the vocal around in a day. Then it was time to rehearse it; the choreographers had about 12 hours to put the whole routine together. The whole thing was an immense panic, and there were certainly moments where we thought that we weren’t going to pull it off. But that’s the thing with this film; there were many moments where we felt it was impossible, but as the film teaches us, nothing is impossible if you force it not to be, to paraphrase.
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Another song I love is “All Love Is Love,” which I think is a perfect send-up of the anthemic, Broadway finale number. I’m curious, Karl, what was the sort of ethos behind creating this song?
Karl: Yeah, this is one of the songs that, in some way shape or form, existed in the original — though, of course, everything that we brought over from the original stage show has been transmogrified within an inch of its life. But for me, this one is about queer joy. Getting to say whatever I want on stage in a very queer setting is always a lot of fun, and providing that opportunity for other queer people is huge for me. I remember, too, that we were in a discussion about whether or not we would have the lyrics on screen with the bouncing ball, and I’m so glad we went with it, because that was a feature of the original stage show that I felt really worked — we were implicating the audience in singing this refrain.
Marius: Yeah, retaining some of some of those extremely theatrical elements from the original was key to the way we approached this.
Are there any songs that stand out to you two from Dicks that were extremely fun to write and work on?
Karl: I think “Sewer Song” was the one, for me. It was so much fun, and it was such a challenge because you’re writing three different verses that kind of sound like they could be a song on their own, but you’re also negotiating everyone’s range, you’re making everyone’s voice is sitting well. That’s the ultimate song, to me, because they had a joke at the end of the stage show about “being in a sewer that smells like piss,” and I just was like, “I have no idea what to do. So I guess this will be a samba at the end.” To me, that song is a good example of the ways in which we just kind of went for it, and didn’t necessarily always have a reason for what we were doing — and that works really well.
Marius: Yeah, let’s take these three completely incompatible melodies and have them all sing it at the same time, and somehow make it work. That was an adventure for sure.
Marius, as someone who has music directed a number of classic movie musicals like Moulin Rouge and La La Land, how different is it working on a project like Dicks that tends to poke fun at the artform itself?
Marius: It’s very refreshing. I love that self-awareness and the surface lack-of-seriousness that is actually disguising a real sincerity. These songs wouldn’t work if they weren’t pretty great, and if they weren’t emotionally sincere. The artifice to which you’re drawing attention, that sits on top of that, wouldn’t work if the structure underneath it was sketchy or shoddy. It’s really a great testament to Karl in particular that it works as well as it does. Plus, it did allow us to poke fun at ourselves while we were in the process of making it, which is really thrilling and liberating.
Karl: I’ll also say, for myself, I’m really grateful that for my debut project, I get to share something where I had such creative freedom. I’m really grateful to Marius for giving us the opportunity to do that.
It’s also great music that also isn’t overly referential. You’re allowing the songs to speak for themselves in the musical world that you’ve created, instead of making a series of inside jokes about musical theater itself. Why was that an important part of this process?
Karl: I think that’s part of the DNA that Josh and Aaron and I brought to this, because we came at this from a diagonal. There was a focus on the characters and, as Marius said, the emotional truth of the moment. That is kind of what grounds a lot of Larry’s work as well, which is why he was exactly right to direct this movie, because he knows how to really dig in to the joke and also unearth those emotional moments.
The film is getting very positive early reviews. What do you hope audiences take away from their experience of watching Dicks: The Musical?
Karl: I just really hope people have fun. I love movie musicals, and I obviously have a perspective on what I want movie musicals to look like. But I hope that this inspires more work like this.
In his song “That Ain’t Country,” queer artist Adam Mac proudly declared to his detractors that, if they tried that in his small town, they would be met with a community that supports him unconditionally. “The people in the town where I was raised/ They love me/ And they got my back,” he defiantly proclaimed.
Yet over the past week, Mac watched as his theory was tested in real time. “I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that I would preach this love and acceptance that my hometown has had for me, and then immediately feel a little betrayed in the moment,” Mac tells Billboard over a Zoom call. Dressed in a wide-brimmed hat and a lavender pointelle polo, the singer sighs. “This has been the most insane emotional whiplash that I have ever experienced in my life.”
Last Thursday (Sept. 21), Mac announced in an emotional video posted across his social media channels that he would be canceling his scheduled appearance as the headliner of the Logan County Tobacco and Heritage Festival’s Grand Finale concert. The reason behind the cancellation, Mac told his fans, was that there were concerns he would be “promoting homosexuality or sexuality in a family friendly environment” with his performance. “I’m really sad about it,” he said in the clip, fighting back tears. “I really, really wanted to be there.”
But just one week later, the situation has dramatically shifted for the rising country singer. In a post to her Instagram Stories on Thursday (Sept. 28), country superstar Maren Morris announced that Mac would be joining RuPaul’s Drag Race alum Shea Couleé as an opener for her exclusive, fans-only sold-out show in Chicago next week. “Like I said,” Mac says, laughing. “Emotional whiplash.”
As he reflects on the chaotic week he’s experienced, Mac briefly looks as though the information is just setting in for the first time. “It started as something so disappointing and embarrassing and sad, and very quickly turned into the most insane amount of love I have ever been flooded with in my life,” he says, giddy with excitement. “It’s led to one of the coolest things I am ever going to do.”
Mac originally hails from Russellville, Kentucky, which he describes as a town small enough that “we pretty much all know each other.” Leaving home at 22 to chase his dream as a singer-songwriter in Nashville, Mac spent years writing and self-releasing music to try and make a name in an industry that wasn’t necessarily open to the idea of an openly gay country star.
But eventually, people began to take notice. In September 2022, Mac’s music video for “Disco Cowboy” premiered on CMT, where it remained the station’s No. 1 video of their 12-Pack Countdown for four weeks. In March, Mac posted a clip to TikTok of an emotional ballad dedicated to his mother called “Boy Like Me”; the video has since been viewed over 300,000 times. In April, he was highlighted alongside Shelly Fairchild, Sonia Leigh and Angie K at the Country Music Hall of Fame’s Country Proud showcase.
With a performance at CMA Fest in June, and bookings around Nashville and Los Angeles throughout the rest of the summer, 2023 officially felt like it was Mac’s year — especially with the release of his album Disco Cowboy in May. “What we created is something that feels so much like me. I felt like I finally found my home, where I don’t have to sacrifice being ‘too gay’ or loving this sound,” he says. “It just felt like the perfect marriage to be able to tell my story and do it in a way that that felt good to me.”
When the Logan County Chamber of Commerce reached out to ask Mac to headline their annual Tobacco and Heritage festival, he says it felt like a full-circle moment. “The initial process was just so warm and welcoming,” he recalls. “It felt like this big ‘welcome back home’ after a crazy year of successes.”
That’s when the shift started. Two days after the festival announced Mac as the headliner for their Grand Finale Concert and Fireworks in a since-deleted Facebook post, the singer received a call from the person who booked him for the show, a woman Mac says he’s “known my whole life.” She said that the board members at the Chamber of Commerce had some concerns.
“Some board members wanted her to call in ensure that I would not be ‘promoting homosexuality in a family friendly environment, and they wanted to make sure that I knew that this was not a Pride festival,” he recalls. “It just felt like they were telling me, ‘We know you’re gay, just please don’t be too gay. This is a family event,’ as if being gay is inherently sexual.”
The call was prompted not only by board members concerned about queerness represented on their stage — a number of townsfolk, both online and in person at the Chamber of Commerce, made it clear that they intended to protest Mac’s performance while it was happening. “I wanted it to be this homecoming — that vision did not include protesters with signs and pitchforks behind me,” he recalls. “And so I just told her, ‘I just think it’s best for us to pull out of the show.’”
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Having “never cancelled a show,” Mac felt it was only fair to explain why he wouldn’t be performing at the festival in his own video. Sporting a Maren Morris “lunatic country music person” t-shirt, the singer filmed himself explained the entire situation to his fans, and posted it across all of his social media accounts. “I just wanted people to see me and see that I was genuinely hurt to do this.”
The message stuck. Immediately, the video went viral, with fans, both from and outside of Russellville sharing their disappointment that Mac would be treated this way and offering him their support. The feedback also reached the Logan County Chamber of Commerce — Mac received a call from the Chamber after his video went live, saying that there were “10 times the [number of] people that were originally saying that they would protest the show, now saying they can’t believe that we would cancel your show.”
It was a validating moment for Mac, especially when those fans continued to share his the message, which eventually reached country stars like Morris, Kelsea Ballerini, Lindsay Ell and Brandy Clark . “You are loved. I’m sorry this happened but glad you’re sharing it here,” Morris commented on his Instagram post.
“It was all these divas who I have f–king looked up to, and who have been allies to our community, and who have been there for us when no one else was,” he says. “Not only did my community show up for me, but this music community, this country community also showed up for me.”
But the fun was not yet over. Just a few days after his video went viral, Mac received a call from a number he didn’t recognize — which he knew meant “either they want some money, or they’re about to give me a hell of a lot of money.” When he answered, a representative from CAA was on the other end, saying that his name had come up in a meeting discussing openers for Morris’ show at Joe’s on Weed Street in Chicago, and wondering if he would be interested in performing. “I literally collapsed,” Mac says, still stunned. “I’m still pinching myself.”
Between massive artists like Morris showing him support, and organizations like CMT inviting him to perform at their Equal Access showcase, Mac says he’s never felt more supported by the country music industry. But he also recognizes that country music is also currently fractured; progressive country acts — led largely by women, queer folks and people of color — are advocating for change, while more conservative stars are actively appealing to a right-wing fanbase. Morris herself has expressed her intent to essentially leave the genre after years of fighting against its general failures of inclusivity.
“That is the climate that has been created in our nation, and so it gets very clearly reflected in country music,” he says. But Mac remains hopeful that country music, as a whole, can change for the better. “It’s easy to jump on the bandwagon of hating someone or something because it’s different,” he says. “But I have seen, even just in this situation, that there is so much more love and that there is so much more to audiences than we give them credit for.”
It’s fitting, then, that Mac’s song “That Ain’t Country” also serves as an anti-gatekeeping anthem for the country industry. Lyrics like “Ain’t who you take to bed/ Ain’t in that small town draw/ Yeah it’s in what you’re saying/ Not the way you talk” make his assertion clear; bigotry and hatred don’t buy longevity, and those standing in the way of progress won’t ultimately succeed. Lucky for him, the gates are now opening wide — and Mac is ready to step through.
When you bear one of the most well-known surnames in Italian music, the expectations of others (record companies, the public, the press) can be an unbearable burden. Yet one of the immediately noticeable qualities of 25-year-old Matteo Bocelli is an innate serenity, a perfect emanation of those polite manners that contributed to making his father Andrea Bocelli an icon of music and style famous in Italy and around the world.
For the Bocellis, music is a family matter. It was his father who launched Matteo’s career five years ago with the duet “Fall on Me,” a single from the album Sì, which debuted atop the Billboard 200. Not bad for his first public appearance.
Now Matteo Bocelli is ready to fly with his own wings. And he wants to do it in his own distinctive way: In the 12 tracks (14 in the deluxe version) of his debut album Matteo (out now via Capitol Records/Universal Music), his father’s operatic vocal style gives way to a clear pop approach that encompasses Ed Sheeran-style ballads (his great idol) as well as uptempo songs.
How did he come to find his own sound? How is he building his career? Billboard Italy met Matteo in Milan shortly before the album’s release.
Your artistic “baptism” was five years ago with the single “Fall on Me” in duet with your father. What did that moment represent for you, and what have the last five years of your life been like?
“Fall on Me” was unquestionably an important start. It was the spark that started everything, and these years were full of emotions and beautiful experiences. The song opened many doors, for example the possibility of signing a contract with Capitol Records in Los Angeles. The team supported me right from the start, allowing me to work on the project in the best way until reaching this first album. “Fall on Me” was a unique experience. Now it’s time to continue on my own two feet and start a new path with a project that I feel is totally mine.
Despite what one might expect from your surname, your project has a clear pop dimension. Over the years, how have you honed the sound you wanted to achieve?
I have always been close to opera and classical music, but the music I sang at home was pop. But that doesn’t mean you know exactly what you want. You need to work on things, to try, to experiment. These years were very useful in finding the sound I’m comfortable with. In recent years we wrote about a hundred songs, then we selected 14 for the [deluxe] album.
Talking about pop music, who are your idols from the past and the present?
I always say Ed Sheeran. He is not only an incredible artist, but also a beautiful person — at least that’s what I perceived the times I met him. Yes, I could say he’s an idol of mine. Plus, I’m a romantic, and he’s the king of ballads! But at the same time, he’s been able to achieve a huge success with more uptempo songs too. That has always been a dream of mine: to have slow and sentimental songs but also be able to make people jump at concerts. However, I have always listened more to the music of the past, especially Lionel Ritchie, Elton John, Queen, as well as the great Italian artists.
The album starts with “For You,” an uptempo track. Why do you think it is the best opener for the project?
In that case, I asked the record company for advice. Capitol Records focused a lot on that song. When I made a demo of it, I immediately understood that it was a song in which I felt really good from a vocal point of view. Also I perceived it as a “top” song for concerts.
“Chasing Stars,” written by Ed Sheeran with his brother Matthew, talks about their relationship with their father. It seems like a song tailor-made for you.
I met Ed when he released “Perfect Symphony,” the duet he did with my father. He then sent me a couple of ideas. “Chasing Stars” was the one that struck me the most. I was struck by the melody, because Ed has an unmistakable touch, and the message, perfect for my story. Even when a song is written by someone else, you have to see yourself in what you sing. When you sing certain words, you have to feel them. Yes, that seemed like a song written especially for me. We have in common the fact that we have a family that loves music and has encouraged their children to learn about it.
The songs are mostly sung in English but some are in Italian. Why did you want to use both languages?
Having signed the contract with Capitol Records in the United States, I also have to make music in English. But the deep reason why I signed with them is that I grew up singing in both Italian and English. So it has always been my desire to sing in English, and I knew that label would give me many opportunities to collaborate with great international songwriters. At the same time, it is important not to forget your origins. I consider Italian lyrics the deepest and most beautiful in the entire history of music. English-speaking songwriters consider us almost saccharine, excessive. But I think that’s the beauty of our language. We are romantic, there is nothing we can do about it!
Your project has a strong international projection. What idea of “Italianness” do you want to convey abroad?
To put it simply, I’m very proud to be Italian. I hope that beyond our national borders, people can appreciate the songs I sing in our language. Italy is so loved around the world; there is no need for Matteo Bocelli to push that.
In 2019 you performed at the Sanremo Festival in a duet with your father. Now your album is out: Is it the right moment to go there again, as a contestant this time?
It’s a question they’ve been asking me ever since… [Laughs] I understand that in Italy, the Sanremo Festival has a fundamental importance, it is the best thing an artist can aspire to. And I don’t deny that it would be a great emotion for me too to go on that stage — not alongside my father as a guest, but on the frontline as a contestant. But in my opinion you must go there when you are truly convinced, with a song that really identifies you.
Last year you collaborated with Sebastián Yatra. Do you also wish to step into the Latin market too?
One of my biggest fanbases is the Mexican one, so it’s important to keep an eye on that market. But you have to get there starting from the assumption that you must do what you like. I will never [do] something just because that’s what the market expects. If a collaboration with another Latin artist were to happen and convince me, then why not?
In the early 2000s, while the alt-rock band Switchfoot was working on their fourth album, The Beautiful Letdown, the group flew to New York to perform for its new label, Sony Music. Midway through one of the cuts from that record, “Dare You to Move,” a top Sony exec walked out of the performance — and frontman Jon Foreman could hear him muttering, “Why do you keep signing this expletive-expletive-expletive?”
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As the band prepares to release a deluxe version of The Beautiful Letdown, which has sold more than three million copies since its release 20 years ago, Foreman recalls the impact of that moment. “That is a pivotal point for us as a band,” he says. “We had a choice: “Do we listen to him, or do we say, ‘Forget him, we’re going to do what we think is right, and we believe in these songs? That’s where we came from. That’s what that album in 2003 represents — an album that almost didn’t exist at all.” (Sony declined to comment on Foreman’s recollections.)
By phone from the band’s San Diego studio, where Switchfoot is rehearsing for a tour on which they will play The Beautiful Letdown in its entirety, Foreman discusses the “Our Version” version of the album, which dropped in August — as well as covers of its tracks performed by the Jonas Brothers, Jon Bellion, Twenty One Pilots‘ Tyler Joseph and others, that fill out the deluxe edition due Sept. 15.
As you rehearse for this tour, playing all those songs again from The Beautiful Letdown, what are you learning about the album?
We’ve grown up as a band, learned how to play our instruments, learned how to play together. It really has been enjoyable to step back in time and remember who we were and what we were singing about and how we were playing.
What were some of the technical challenges of recreating a record from 2003?
It’s all the happy accidents that are funny that are hard to recreate — but we leaned into that. At the beginning of one of the [original] tracks, “Ammunition,” my friend, Matt Beckley, a producer, happened to be in the room when we were tracking that. His laugh is the last thing you hear at the beginning of that track. We tried our best to imitate that, and I said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” and called Matt and said, “Can you send us a track of yourself laughing?” So it’s his laugh again. We tried to jump back exactly into the headspace that we were in when we had made the record the first time.
Why did you decide to re-record an “Our Version” of the album?
We all were kind of talking about the album and we thought, “What if we made the album, but this time, instead of for [the Sony exec], let’s record it for everyone who’s supported us the last 23 years — for everyone who’s sung along with these songs?”
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So did you wind up making the album that Sony wanted, back in 2003, or did you release the one Switchfoot had planned to make all along?
The album that came out was entirely our dream — the dream that, with John Fields producing, we loved, and that certain unnamed executive at the top of Sony Records hated. We were relegated to [Sony-owned distributor] Red Ink. It was actually the best thing that could’ve happened to us, because not only did everyone at Red Ink believe in this album and fight for it, it galvanized why we do what we do, and the idea that we don’t play music for the people who don’t understand it. We’re not for everyone, we’re going to be for ourselves. Irrespective of whether people get it or not, we’re going to sing our songs.
Did you wind up working with that Sony executive again?
Fast forward maybe a year and a half, the album had sold 2 million copies, and the same guy comes back, all smiles and handshakes and pictures, with platinum albums and a lot of talk about how “I believed in you guys all along.”
How much did Taylor Swift‘s “Taylor’s Version” re-recordings over the past few years influence Switchfoot’s “Our Version”?
It didn’t have much to do with it. But Taylor has covered two songs from The Beautiful Letdown, one without us and one I got to sit in on. She’s been very supportive.
Tell me about sitting in with her.
We were playing a smaller arena in Arizona [in 2011], and she invited me to come over and play “Meant to Live.” Our friends Needtobreathe were opening the night, and I was struck by just how poised she was on and off stage. She was in complete control, not only onstage but offstage. Everything was accounted for. It’s really fun to see this [Eras] tour blowing up for her.
For the deluxe version, how much input did you have on the reimagined versions from the other artists?
We gave them completely no direction. Some said, “I want you to play the instruments,” and some, like OneRepublic, just wanted to do a more traditional duet. I loved all of it. Jonas Brothers wanted to work with John Fields, who produced the original version. I called Fields and he said, “Oh, is this the talk when you’re going to be the A&R guy and tell me what we’re supposed to do with the track?” And I was like, “Nope! I’m just calling to say hi. I could care less.”
What do you hope both parts of the new version accomplish?
It’s such an odd project, to be honest. Being a songwriter, writing new songs is my favorite thing in the world to do, but to look back and celebrate where we’ve been — that’s what this project is aiming for.
Last week, French music streaming service Deezer joined with the Universal Music Group to roll out what they called an artist-centric music streaming model, which they said was “designed to better reward the artists and the music that fans value the most.” It’s the result of a six-month partnership announced in March that promised to examine the current “pro-rata” streaming royalties model, in which artists and labels are paid according to their share of streams out of the available pool of revenue generated by streaming services. They aim to identify a new way of paying out that revenue, at a time when streaming service catalogs have exploded to north of 200 million tracks and fraud and streaming manipulation have proliferated on platforms.
The artist-centric model, which Deezer says will begin rolling out Oct. 1 in France for UMG artists with plans to expand it to more content owners and additional territories, relies on a “boost” model that rewards artists who are actively searched for by users, as well as those who maintain a level of 1,000 streams per month from at least 500 unique accounts — what Deezer/UMG are terming “professional artists.” And it has generated plenty of scrutiny from many corners of the industry, despite its initial limited scope.
Here’s how it works: Under the “old” pro-rata model — or the one still in effect at every major streaming service — one stream equals one play, and the total number of plays is divided up by artists and labels according to how many they accrue. Under this “artist-centric” model, if an artist qualifies as a “professional artist,” one stream would get “boosted” to count as two plays; and if a user actively searches for or clicks on an artist’s song, that stream would get “boosted” to count as two plays. If a user actively searches for or clicks on a song by a “professional artist,” that stream counts as four plays when the pool of revenue gets divided up. As part of this, “non-artist noise” content — essentially, things like the sound of rain or a washer/dryer that contains no music — will be removed from eligibility from the royalty pool, and eventually deleted from the service altogether, to be replaced by in-house noise uploaded by Deezer that will not generate revenue.
That’s the headline change, but there are many other elements to this switch as well, some designed to root out streaming fraud or bad actors gaming the system, and others that are designed to promote human artists at the expense of general audio. Deezer also released some statistics to support the changes, including that “non-artist noise” content accounts for 2% of all streams; that in 2022, 7% of all streams on its platform were fraudulent; and that, contributing to the clutter on the platform, 97% of all uploaders to Deezer generated just 2% of total streams. All told, Deezer eventually expects the changes to increase artist royalties by as much as 10%.
Still, there is work to be done for the service to implement this more widely. Deezer CEO Jeronimo Folgueira says the company is actively looking to bring more partners aboard, and expects to have more content providers on the system by the time of the Oct. 1 launch, with a full rollout with all providers across all territories intended by next year. In the meantime, “the royalty structure of labels and artists that are not signed on yet will not be affected during the transition period,” he says. The model will also initially only cover recorded music royalties, though he says “our goal is to include publishing royalties as well and will begin discussions with publishers in the near future.”
Folgueira spoke to Billboard to explain how it all works and break down how the companies created the thresholds and distinctions that underpin the new system.
Billboard: Can you walk me through the last six months of how you guys got to this point?
Jeronimo Folgueira: Deezer has been promoting a change in the model for more than four years, advocating for UCPS [User-Centric Payment System]. UCPS is much better than the old model that we had, but we figured that there’s a better way of implementing this, which is artist-centric. Artist-centric is better than UCPS, which is why we were able to get this one over the finish line, whereas with UCPS there was a lot more resistance.
Basically, given our background, it was obvious that we would engage in reviewing the system. And Universal has, in the last few months — since Lucian Grainge took on this topic personally very strongly — supported changing the model to artist-centric, so we announced a collaboration with them where we looked into the data with a consultant that they hired to see, basically, what would be the right way of moving the model.
It started from different parts. We came from a UCPS base, Universal came from an artist-centric point of view that was different from where we ended up, and we tried to find something that would make sense and would be fair for the whole industry and achieve the benefits of what we wanted while minimizing the negative impact. Because with UCPS, there were some really good artists who got negatively affected. But with the artist-centric model we’ve created now, basically all professional artists creating valuable content will get a benefit. Some get a huge benefit, and some get a small benefit, but creators making high-value content all benefit. With UCPS, there was more shuffling for artists.
That’s why in this first version of artist-centric, we’re focusing mostly on eliminating noise from the royalty pool and giving a boost to professional artists that create valuable content that users love and want. We’ve been working on this for months, working on different versions of the model, running data to make sure that we eliminated the wrong incentive and created the right reward for the right content and behavior.
What do you expect the effect to be?
Overall, the pool doesn’t really change, it changes the distribution of the pool. But effectively what we’re doing is reducing the economic incentive for fraud and gaming the system. We’re eliminating the payouts to pure noise, and we’re boasting the payouts to real artists. So effectively there will be a shift of money from low-quality content — or not even real music — back to real, professional artists. So what we see is that producers of valuable content will get an uplift, on average, of around 10%.
What does a “boost” mean?
The boost is for a professional artist — and we consider that to be if you have more than 500 listeners a month and more than 1,000 streams. The threshold is very low, and any small, independent artist will reach those levels, so as long as you have a minimum amount of a following and fans, you’ll get to that boost. And if people search for your song, or add it to favorites or have it in a playlist, it gets another boost. So it basically means a stream of a song from one of those artists will count four times for the pool system. So it’s still a pool system, but those streams will count four times. Whereas rain, for example, will count zero, and functional music will count once. So they get boosted 4x for producing content that people actually love.
And where does the extra money come from?
The pool is the same, but the way that pool gets distributed is based on the share of streams. But that’s where the boost comes from. Noise will not get paid at all, so that’s where some of the money comes from; functional music, or music from artists that do not qualify for the threshold, will get paid less; and then artists that create valuable content will get the boost, therefore they’ll get paid more.
How did you come to the “professional artists” distinction?
We looked at different thresholds. We wanted to create a threshold that was transparent and fair, so that a small, up-and-coming artist could get there, because we want to support new up-and-coming artists and independent artists. So it was very important that this was something that was good for all artists, not just artists that were signed to a major record label. With that threshold, even though a lot of the artists on the platform will not qualify to get that boost, the majority of the streams actually do. If an artist doesn’t get to 1,000 streams and 500 listeners a month, they cannot make a living [through streaming] regardless of what the payout of the model is. So you’re not technically a professional. And any up-and-coming artist that is rising up gets to those levels pretty quickly. You don’t need big marketing budgets or promotions behind that. We’re talking about levels that are relatively easy to achieve once you are a professional and do this seriously.
But wouldn’t those smallest artists need that money the most?
Yeah, but we’re talking about people that are making €3 or €5 euros per month; it doesn’t make any real difference. It will not change anything at all. That’s why the threshold is so low — that economically it makes no impact whatsoever.
What effect would this have on playlisting? If you click on an artist’s song, they qualify for the boost — is that just if you’re looking at an artist’s page and seeking out their music? Or if you click on their song that’s first on a playlist?
If a song is on a playlist, it will always get the active boost. You would not get it if it’s algorithmically pushed to you. So if you’re listening to [algorithmic playlist] Flow, for example, and you discover new songs on Flow, you haven’t really chosen them, so those would not get the boost. If you come across a song [on an algorithmic playlist] and favorite it, that would get the boost.
What do you define as “non-artist noise”? Is there a threshold there?
We wanted to be very fair and transparent and start in a very simple way, which is noise that has no music at all. Right now what we are going to stop paying, and eventually deleting, will be pure white noise — the sound of a washing machine, or rain, but without any music or anything else. That is the first stage, because it’s very easy to detect and very fair.
Then, there are different layers. Once it has music, then obviously it will not have the artist boost, most likely, and will probably not get to the active boost, but it will still be paid and still be there. So it won’t qualify for the boost, but it will still be paid and be available. Later on we’ll look into how that evolves and make sure that people aren’t abusing it, and if it becomes an issue then we will address it. It has to be a model that gets reviewed regularly, the same way that the Google search algorithm gets reviewed regularly to make sure that it’s always giving you the most relevant results, to make sure that there’s no gaming of the system, that it’s actually helping real artists.
What we’re trying to do here is support the creation of high-value content from real artists. And therefore we will continue to monitor it. Initially, it’s a very simple execution: pure noise gets kicked out, but anything with music will stay for the time being.
Where do you draw that line between what is “functional music” and what is artistry?
Right now, we don’t, because it’s a very difficult line to draw. If we find a way to draw that line then we will, but it has to be fair and it has to be very transparent. It cannot be subjective. We haven’t found a rule that is fair and transparent to define what is functional music and what is not, so that’s why we decided not to go there and went for the boost instead. Because what we see is, if it’s functional music, people don’t really add it to a playlist or follow it or search it or put it in favorites. So usually, things that are functional music, by nature, will not qualify for the boost. So the boost is basically a smart way of letting the behavior of the users boost what is real, high-value content, versus what is purely functional music.
Is this also about AI protection? Protecting “real” artists vs. AI artists?
Initially, we’re not taking any steps against AI. The model is not designed against it. However, it is a model that is built in a flexible way that can protect real artists from AI in the future, and what we said is that the real artist boost should be applied to real, human artists, so if it’s a machine it should not qualify for the active boost.
Your press release also mentioned a “stricter provider policy” that you guys are implementing. What does that entail?
Basically right now, like every other DSP, we allow people to upload music through these do-it-yourself [distribution] platforms; there’s plenty of them. And there’s a lot of content being uploaded. What we want to do is make sure that we get content that is valuable. We don’t want more noise getting uploaded to the platform and we want to be very strict with fraud and gaming [the system]. There are certain providers where more than 50% of what they uploaded we had to take down because of fraud. So we’re going to potentially block those providers altogether. We do not want to be used to game the system. Until now we had been allowing everything, and only when something gets detected as fraud did we deal with it. Now we want to be a lot more strict with what we allow to be uploaded.
But as you were saying, so much gets uploaded every day. How do you screen that?
AI. There will be clear rules, and then the machine will be screening all content that gets uploaded, and once you get to certain thresholds where they’re providing too much content that is detected as fraudulent or gaming the system, then we will just block them, the same way that Google will penalize anyone that is gaming their SEO and will remove them from search results for at least six months. There are penalties for bad behavior. Right now in streaming there are no penalties for bad behavior, and we’re trying to introduce them, the same way that Google and many other platforms do.
What other practices are you instituting to combat this fraud?
One really important aspect of eliminating the fraud element is we’re going to put a cap on the impact of a single user on the pool of streams: only 1,000 streams per user per month will count. So if you listen to 2,000 streams, then your streams will count half. That way, you cannot have one account racking up 10,000 streams and stealing money from the pool. A normal human will consume anywhere between 400 and 600 tracks per month, so we’ve set the threshold at 1,000. At 1,000, more than 90% of the behavior is captured and then only the outliers go beyond that. Some of it is not fraudulent — it’s usually young kids listening to K-pop or rock day and night. But the behavior of the fraudulent accounts, or gaming the system, happens by hacking accounts and generating huge amounts of streams to steal money from the pool. So by putting a cap of 1,000 streams per user, we are eliminating the economic incentive. You’d have to fake or hack a lot of accounts to have an economic impact, whereas right now with only a handful of accounts you can have a massive impact on the pool.
That 400-600 tracks, that was a result of your research?
Yes, our data. We have 10 million monthly subscribers, and over the last 15 years it’s pretty statistically significant that a normal human will listen to something in the range of 500 tracks. It really depends on age; the younger you are, the more tracks you listen to. But generally speaking, in normal human behavior, everything will be captured below 1,000 streams. If you’re above 1,000 streams you’re an outlier, and we don’t want those outliers or gamers of the system to have an impact on the pool.
What other tweaks are possible as you guys start to roll this out?
One thing we left out that we looked at was potentially adding another layer, which was streaming time. So instead of calculating it by stream, calculating it by the time you spend streaming a song. But what we saw is that with the current boost, the impact is already captured. So if you added listening time on top of the current layers that we created, the impact is minimal, because if you love a song, you usually listen to the whole song. We explored it, looked at the data and decided it wasn’t needed, and we wanted to keep it as simple as possible. But we haven’t completely ruled out listening time.
The other thing we haven’t completely ruled out is moving more and more towards a user-centric approach. Right now we cap things at 1,000 streams. But that can come down eventually to make it closer and closer to a UCPS approach. So that’s another variable that we’ll want to keep an eye on. And the other one is the threshold for a “professional artist.” We need to make sure that the 1,000 streams and 500 listeners a month is the right level and that it doesn’t have negative consequences. Because we really care about new, independent up-and-coming artists. We want to support them. So we will be reviewing that and its impact on new artists as well.
What might make you lower that threshold?
We have looked at so much data, which is why I feel like the level is in the right place. But feedback from the community and if there were any unintended consequences that we couldn’t see in the data that we already have.
When you roll this out, does this only apply to UMG artists?
Yes and no. Right now, the agreement is with Universal, however we’re in discussions with all content providers. The majority of content providers are very happy with the artist-centric model, because everyone who produces high-quality content gets a boost, whether you’re a major record label, an independent record label or a small indie artist distributing yourself. As long as you create content that people value, you will benefit from the model. I expect a big chunk, if not more than half, of our content will be on the new model by the time we launch this on the first of October. And our intention is to roll this out to all providers in all countries in 2024.
What would be a mark of success for this program? Six months from now, what would tell you that this is working?
I think it’s if real artists really get the boost, if they see an uplift in royalties, that’s where we would say that this model is working and helping good artists create valuable content. That’s ultimately what we want to do. The pool of money is the pool of money. Obviously we’re working to raise the ARPU [average revenue per user] and grow the pie, but that’s a different discussion. But from the pie that we have, more of the money has to go to artists who create valuable content, to implore them to continue to create valuable content. If those boosts work as intended and the real artists creating valuable content see an uplift in royalties, this model will have succeeded.
Simma down: The King of the Dancehall has returned.
Seven years after his last studio album — 2016’s Unstoppable — Beenie Man is back with Simma, his latest star-studded, genre-bending opus. Featuring collaborations with a plethora of artists ranging from Shenseea and Shaggy to Giggs and Stonebwoy, Simma effortlessly traverses the intersections of dancehall, roots reggae, drill, hip-hop, and Afrobeats.
The album arrives amid something of a revival for the Grammy winner. This year, his classic 1997 hit single “Who Am I,” became the soundtrack for one of social media’s most popular music trends — in essence, people sing the first two words of the chorus (“sim simma”) and wait in anticipation for their chosen subject to finish the rest of the lyrics. La La Anthony recently used the challenge, aptly named #SimSimmaChallenge, to quiz famous friends like Kelly Rowland, Ciara and Kim Kardashian on their Beenie Man lyric knowledge.
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The trend is a natural extension of the timelessness of Beenie Man’s music. Dating back to 1983’s The Invincible Beany Man — which arrived when he was just 10 years old — Beenie Man has been reigning over the dancehall. Although the title of his latest album doesn’t have anything to do with “Who Am I” or the #SimSimmaChallenge, the record still houses a few career throughlines, including reunions with Mýa (“Docta”) and Sean Paul (“Supa Star”), who he previously worked with in the early ‘00s and ‘10s.
Simma, originally completed in 2021, suffered a lengthy delay after Beenie’s mother passed in 2020 following complications from a stroke earlier that year. “At that time when the album fit for release, I was in bare depression, mourning, all of these things,” he reflects. The album also serves as his first LP since his instantly iconic 2020 Verzuz battle with Bounty Killer. In this way, Simma is an unbridled celebration of life, longevity and resilience.
Beenie Man has earned six entries on the Billboard Hot 100, reaching as high as No. 26 with “Dude” (with Ms. Thing), the lead single from 2004’s Back to Basics. On the Billboard 200, the dancehall legend has racked up five entries to date, peaking at No. 18 with 2002’s Tropical Storm. On Reggae Albums, Beenie Man has notched six No. 1 titles from 13 overall top 10 projects.
In a conversation with Billboard, Beenie Man goes behind the scenes of the creation of Simma, recounts that improptu mid-flight performance, reflects on his storied career and gives advice to the rising generation of dancehall artists.
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Simma has been in the works for some years now. Did anything about the album change between its original release date and Sep. 1, 2023?
There’s a lot of things that change about the album, because we mek an album before and then my moms drop out by the time when the album fi release. So at that time when the album fit for release, I was in bare depression, mourning, all of these things. I was in it for two years until my brudda Blue decide to say, “Alright, we need to get into this thing now. Get out di depression, get out all di things you going through.”
So, my natural instinct is to go into the studio and beat up some riddim. So we got some from Fanatix from England – them send first – and then we got some from Busy Signal, and then we start from there suh. Then we went to England and get some more riddims and different type of beats. I never know seh di album turn out di weh it turn out, but when it finish, the job was great. No disrespect. We make over 60 song for di album.
There’s a host of genres on Simma — from roots reggae to drill — what was your vision in terms of exploring different styles on the record?
We’re just making music. We do Afrobeats, we do everything. Just make some music. Because people love good music and good music lasts forever. Regardless. Good music outlives you. Trust me.
You mentioned that there’s some Afrobeats on this album. Recently, there have been conversations around Afrobeats “replacing” dancehall on the global stage, and here you are merging the two styles on Simma. What do you think about the two genres’ ability to coexist?
There’s no music that can replace dancehall. Dancehall will never go nowhere. Dancehall will always be here. Because if there was no dancehall, there would be no Afrobeats. That don’t make no sense. People haffi stop, because they don’t understand the lifespan of music. You have enough music that come and last 5, 6, 7 years, but dancehall have been here from before hip-hop! If hip-hop a 50-years-old, dancehall almost 100-years-old! [Laughs.]
We have been through Shabba Ranks, we have been through Ninjaman, we have been through the greatest – Super Cat, all of them. So, dancehall is not going nowhere. Not at all.
There are many collaborations on Simma. Was there any thought of making this a straight collaborative album? Why did you decide to keep the solo tracks on there?
Every album I’ve been listening to is a million collaborations. You listen to Jay-Z last album, collaboration. You listen to Drake album, collaboration. So, why should not I? So you have a Busy Signal, Jamaican. You have a Shaggy, Jamaican. You have Sean Paul, Jamaican. These are superstars. So why don’t you use your own Jamaican superstars? In Africa, you have a pack of superstars. You have Stonebwoy, superstar. You have Giggs from England. We have all the superstars we can use. It’s my time. So, why not? [The King] has all his subjects.
We mek this album this way because the first part of the album was all me. Then I said, “Nah, get some people.” I’m still gonna be there. It’s not like somebody guh sing a song pon mi album which I’m not on. I am going to be inside that music. People sometimes dem like listen to other style or other version or other pattern, so mix up di ting.
Talk to me about the song with Tina (Hoodcelebrityy), “Let Go.” There’s this really dope conversational, back-and-forth vibe going on there. How did that song come about?
She even surprised me, because she never DJ my lyrics — she just get into the studio just like how mi know she a guh do. But mi nuh wan leave nothing to chance. So when she jump pon di record now and start do her ting, I say, “Oh, wow, murda.” She kill it. And the song wicked.
You and Teddy Riley have been friends for years. What was it like finally working together in a musical capacity on this album?
Teddy is a musician, and I’m a musician. Regardless of how long mi know him, it’s a matter of him a have time, because him always busy. The man spend six months a make a riddim for me. Six months. Every time I make di riddim, I finish the song, him send back fi di song and play a next riddim around it, and play a next riddim around it, and put on some other ting and mix the song different and send back di song inna different format and then mi haffi tell him “Stop!” [Laughs.]
And him say, “Hear this last mix, please listen to this last mix.” So, di man play di last mix fi me and mi seh, “Jesus Christ! Di brudda has a great mind. Just please gimme di last mix, don’t mek mi a beg.” And he gimme di mix. Cause mi nuh wan him fi touch di song again! But every time him touch it, the song get better.
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You’ve spoken before about modern dancehall shifting away from the tradition of riddims, who do you think shoulders the responsibility of maintaining that tradition?
It’s on us [as the older generation]. We are the artists that have been here before. We responsible, because it’s all music. Alright, say you’re having a dancehall stage show anywhere in the world, and you bring one million dancehall artists. You have dancehall artists from Africa, you have dancehall artists from Mexico, you have dancehall artists from America, you have dancehall artists from everywhere in the world!
But an artist like Ninjaman — none of these artists a bad like Ninjaman. They could never, because Ninjaman walk pon di stage — him don’t have to have a hit song today, him just need to present. Him just walk pon di stage, di people dem get crazy. Shabba Ranks. Him don’t have to have a new song today, all him haffi do is be present. So, imagine me now. I come after them, present, and get a response. Imagine a Buju Banton or a Sean Paul. Imagine a Shaggy, you get where I’m coming from? We will always be here. We nah going nowhere.
Music is not until death do us part. We dead and music still alive. So, this is what we are here for: longevity, to last, to be that person that people can always depend on. And this is why the album is called Simma, because the King is still here.
When it comes to the younger, rising generation of dancehall artists, who do you think are the emerging leaders?
Wow. Alright. I listen to Skeng. I listen to Skillibeng — sometimes I listen to him and laugh because I find him really hilarious. Valiant. Popcaan and dem are still my young artists dem still. They’re who I really listen to. You see, artists with substance and artists that make sense and take my brain somewhere. I don’t really listen to much new dancehall. I don’t — like, seriously. I’ll put in a Lauryn Hill CD and listen to that.
When did you first see the #SimmaChallenge online?
Well, somebody showed me, yuh know, because mi nuh pon di phone. [Laughs.] And then mi see a next person do it, and mi see another person doing it, and mi see dem still doing it. Then the challenge getting bigger and bigger. So, that’s the reason why I talk about songs with substance. The song outlasts you.
Alright, suppose I never have the courage fi still doing music, I would never have a new album. But the songs that I did from before gimme di courage fi know I can still do what I’m doing. You have to make songs with substance. Songs [where] we can hear inspiration, songs that can inspire you. You inspire your own self!
And I think that was really reflected at the West Indian Day Parade in Brooklyn over Labor Day Weekend. I heard different songs of yours all the time while I was out there.
Exactly. Alright, Bob Marley sing reggae. Mi sing dancehall. Bob Marley the King of Reggae, I’m the King of Dancehall.
I want to know the story behind that plane performance! They weren’t lit enough for you!
It’s not a story behind it! Mi leave out mi seat, mi wan look fuh mi band members. So, I went down there and everybody was sleeping. So mi wake up alla di band members dem and everything. But by waking them up, mi a wake up everybody. By the time we reach through di place fi go through the door for first class, everybody a seh, “You have to give something!” So, mi a seh, “What??” Because myself, I was sleeping. So, I said, “Give me something.” So, I’m just standing around and start [singing the opening of “Who Am I”] and the plane start sing.
It never plan. It’s just something that happened.
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Were you able to attend to Caribbean Music Awards the other week (Aug. 31)?
No, mi never able to see it. But I can remember the first time I win one of those. 1995. It’s been going on for a long time. I went up against Capleton, [starts singing Capleton’s “Tour”]. It was live on TV in America in New York, a matter of fact.
For those awards shows, I really feel appreciative of them — because they’re giving us the opportunity so we can work harder to become the people that we are today. People appreciate your work, so all yuh haffi do is just give thanks and appreciate what they’re doing. So, I do respect the Caribbean Music Awards and all the years it’s been going. Sorry I don’t have a visa to be there!
In light of the Bob Marley biopic hitting theaters soon, what are your thoughts on who gets to tell the stories of our Caribbean icons and legends, and how those stories get told?
Bob Marley have over five sons that coulda play Bob Marley, cause alla dem look like him. But dem decide fi use somebody else. Really don’t make no sense. Well, it’s a Bob Marley movie. Mi wait till mi can get it inna my circle. But, I think dem shoulda use Skip Marley, who is the last Marley. Or use Stephen Marley or Ziggy Marley or Julian Marley. But Bob Marley a Bob Marley. If you make a movie about Bob Marley, everybody wan see it.
Since you have reached the highest heights that dancehall, and music in general, has to offer, do you have any advice for younger dancehall artists who are looking to follow in your footsteps?
Two: Work hard in the studio and work harder onstage. Because onstage, people remember you the person, and in the studio, people remember the songs. But if you don’t work harder onstage people will not remember you as an individual, but people will always remember your songs.
Michael Jackson mek an album every two years, but people still remember him for his performance. I nuh care how many hits Michael Jackson sing, it’s never greater than that Moonwalk. Never greater than that backslide. Yuh see Michael Jackson with spandex? Nobody remember dat. They remember di performance! [Laughs.]
Elvis Presley was the greatest entertainer before Michael Jackson. Dem still remember Elvis as in performance, not in song. When yuh go in Las Vegas, yuh find 10 Elvis Presley shows, because of his performance. That is my only advice to any artist.
During the week of the winter solstice last December, Allison Russell stood in a large circle of “goddesses,” chanting and singing together to conjure communal joy out of thin air. Drums, guitars and strings joined her and her circle of “chosen sisters” as they celebrated “being back in our bodies.”
If that sounds more like a new-age spiritual exercise than a recording session, Russell will be the first one to tell you that two things can be true at the same time. “It ended up being very witchy and woo-woo and wonderful,” she tells Billboard. “We just got to be so present and say ‘F–k oppressors telling us we’re not gorgeous and perfect as we are.’”
That sentiment was the leading ethos behind the creation of The Returner, Russell’s spellbinding sophomore LP (out Friday, Sept. 8 via Fantasy Records). The folk star wanted to create an album that didn’t look back on the pain of the past — she had already done that on her outstanding 2021 debut album Outside Child — but rather firmly planted itself in the present and called for a much-needed celebration. Or, as she more poetically puts it, The Returner is about “stealing joy from the teeth of turmoil.”
To accomplish that goal, Russell ventured outside of the world of Americana music that made her one of the fastest-rising folk stars of the last few years. Taking a “rhythm-first” approach to creating the new sound, the singer-songwriter and Dim Star — the production duo of Russell’s partner JT Nero and Drew Lindsay — employed elements of funk, rock, disco and pop to further bolster her folk roots and give The Returner a fresh new sound.
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Russell says that this approach came about in part because she spent the last few years getting to tour internationally for the first time. “We toured in a lot of places where English isn’t the first language,” she said. “We realized that there’s a transcendence that comes when you allow yourself to feel music with your whole body. A lot of the demos started with us hearing the polyrhythmic layers of groove within some of the things that JT [Nero] and I were writing. That informs melody, that informs even the syllables, the words that are chosen.”
After spending three months working with Dim Star to create demos that achieved something close to the sound they were looking for, Russell recounts being contacted by her label in late 2022 and told that, in order to release an album in 2023, they would need her master by the end of the year thanks to ongoing delays in vinyl production.
Where most artists would panic, Russell felt relief — booking six days at L.A.’s Henson Recording Studios (a space “presided over by my hero, Kermit the Frog,” Russell quips), the multi-hyphenate embraced the do-or-die nature of the sessions. “We recorded Outside Child in four days, so we were like, ‘Oh, we have six whole days in the studio? That’s great,’” she recalls. “It actually felt magical — Joni [Mitchell] recorded Blue there, Joni recorded Court and Spark there, Carole King recorded Tapestry there, Tina Turner and Cyndi Lauper blew everything off the top of ‘We Are the World’ there. There were all of these good ghosts in the walls.”
In order to bring the expansive new sound of The Returner to life, Russell brought together a 16-person band of women to the week-long studio session. Featuring artists like SistaStrings, Joy Clark, Elenna Canlas, Elizabeth Pupo-Walker and a dozen others, the group became the engine through which Russell and Dim Star engineered their creative vision.
“The magic of this circle is that everybody is such a high-level, multifaceted artist; everybody’s a lead singer, everybody’s a writer, everybody’s a composer, everybody’s a multi-instrumentalist,” she said. “So when we go in the studio, it’s with this level of trust — and because of that, the album ends up being a musical conversation in real time with these brilliant artists that I feel so privileged to be working with.”
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Throughout her conversation with Billboard, Russell refers to the femme-focused troupe as the “Rainbow Coalition,” a name she also interchangeably uses for the community of artists she surrounds herself with and her fans. While the name may evoke a sense of LGBTQ-centric idealism that Russell shares with those she accepts as her chosen family, the singer points to the term’s long history for context.
Before the name was adopted into a larger cultural context, the original Rainbow Coalition was formed in 1969 Chicago by Fred Hampton, the deputy chairman of the Black Panther Party. Hampton helped bring together the Young Patriots (made up of poor Southern whites), the Young Lords (made up of Puerto Rican migrants) and street gangs throughout the city to work together towards social change.
While the original coalition fell apart after Hampton’s assassination in December 1969, Russell says that the core organizing principle of the original Rainbow Coalition remains a cornerstone of her own worldview today. “Any of us, globally, who are interested in the business of harm reduction, and of pushing for equality versus inequality — that’s the Rainbow Coalition,” she says. “There’s so few places where we can gather people from all different kinds of beliefs, histories, ethnicities and heritages in joyful assembly — but we have that in playing and listening to live music together.”
It certainly helps Russell’s righteous cause that she finds herself in storied company — in the years since she began working as a solo artist, the Montreal-born artist has become a contemporary of superstars like Brandi Carlile, Annie Lennox, Chaka Khan, and even Joni Mitchell, who brought her onstage earlier this year for her Joni Jam concert at The Gorge.
“Community is vital [in the music industry], both in terms of sharing resources and also just artistically,” Russell offers. “Getting to be a part of that event, where we were all there in service of Joni and in reverence and celebration of our elder was the most inspiring, transcendent, beautiful thing to get to witness and to be a part of.”
After being welcomed with open arms by artists like Carlile and Mitchell into the industry, Russell is now laser-focused on doing her part to leave the world a better place than she found it. One way she intends to do that is by fighting back against the ongoing wave of anti-LGBTQ legislation sweeping through the U.S., targeting healthcare and privacy rights for the transgender community, as well as First Amendment rights for drag performers.
Even broaching the subject of anti-LGBTQ legislation immediately prompts Russell’s indignant fury. “It is domestic legislative terrorism,” she says, her friendly smile dropping into a grimace. “It’s so serious, and we sleepwalk through it at our peril, right? This is some Third Reich s–t, and we cannot allow it to continue; we must fight back. And that’s what I’m talking about when it comes to the Rainbow Coalition — it’s all of us who stand at any intersections of the margin, anyone who loves us, and anyone who stands with us.”
Russell, believing in the power of live music to bring people together, decided to channel her anger into action. Teaming up with Jason Isbell and number of LGBTQ non-profit organizations in Tennessee, Russell co-organized Love Rising, the star-studded benefit concert that took place just weeks after the state passed laws banning gender-affirming care for minors and banning drag shows in public spaces. Featuring performances from superstars like Maren Morris, Sheryl Crow, the Brothers Osborne, Hozier and plenty more, the event was a runaway success — especially considering they raised over $500,000 for LGBTQ charities in the area.
Looking at all the artists who came out to support Love Rising — especially many of the straight artists who chose to speak up for the LGBTQ community — gives Russell a sense of hope for the future. “It’s exactly what we need,” she says. “It’s people like Hayley [Williams] taking a red eye flight to come back from opening for Taylor Swift, because she said she’d rather die than not be there to support the trans and drag community in Tennessee. These incredible allies are so important.”
But the work is far from over — Russell says she plans to use her upcoming tour for The Returner as on opportunity to work with organizations like the Human Rights Campaign and Headcount to register concert-goers to vote in the 2024 election and learn more about the attacks against the LGBTQ community. “It’s all hands on deck,” she resolves.
She’s also not taking her eyes off the music industry at large — amid the rising tide of harmful rhetoric, Russell says that a number of fellow artists in the industry have remained “deafeningly silent” on the topic, specifically in the mainstream country space. Russell doesn’t name anyone in particular, in part because she doesn’t want to add to “the algorithm of problematic artists,” but also because, as she says, she’s not trying to rehabilitate the “empathy deficit” she sees in the genre.
“I’m not interested in fixing the toxic white supremacy and masculinity of the mainstream. I think it’s a waste of energy,” she says. “I’m much more interested in building the beloved community of people that are ready to show up and do this work together, that believe in equality. The others will come along eventually.”
In large part, that is the message of The Returner — it takes a village to make deep, meaningful change in the world around you, and Russell is ready to build that village from the ground up.
Slowdive fans had to wait just six years for the band’s latest album, Everything Is Alive — half the time it took between the release of the British shoegazers’ 2017 eponymous effort and 1995’s Pygmalion — but the holdup turns out to be well worth it.
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The quintet’s fifth full-length is a dreamy yet taut melding of their strengths. Circling guitars and wafting synths are grounded by a resolute rhythm section and sweetened by Neil Halstead’s drowsy lead vocals alongside Rachel Goswell’s supernal harmonies, with the entire mix soaring and falling across the album’s eight melancholy and hopeful songs.
Don’t ask Goswell to deconstruct the album, though.
“How do you describe your music? It’s the thing that I hate the most,” she tells Billboard during a Zoom interview from her home across the pond. “I’d say it’s ‘Slowdive, but Slowdive in 2023.’ It’s just different again. A lot of people have commented it kind of feels like almost a merging of elements of Pygmalion — purely I guess because it’s got arpeggiators and more electronic elements than the last record did.”
The album, which drops via Dead Oceans on Sept. 1, might have come out a few years earlier were it not for the pandemic, including the deaths of Goswell’s mother and drummer Simon Critchell’s father during that period, as well as Halstead becoming mired in the mixing some of the songs.
As the band found with the release of Slowdive in 2017, their audience has grown substantially since they broke up following the release of Pygmalion and were dropped by their label, Creation Records. (Their slagging by the British music press and the hamfisted handling of their career by the now-defunct SBK Records in the United States didn’t help either.) The video for the band’s first single, “kisses,” has so far amassed 877,000 views on YouTube, and their channel has 105,000 subscribers, while research conducted by Dead Oceans’ distributor Secretly Group indicates that their fan base skews very young — in line with those of artists like Phoebe Bridgers, Claud and Faye Webster.
With the release of Everything Is Alive and Slowdive’s tour, which has or will include dates in the United Kingdom (including Ireland), Europe, Japan, Australia and beginning Sept. 23, North America, that fan base is sure to grow. Goswell talks about the new set and upcoming trek — as well as the legendary artist who she’s blocked out time on her band calendar to see live for the first time — with Billboard below.
During the pandemic, which delayed this album, you lost your mother and Simon lost his father. How much did that inform the tone of the album?
Goswell Yeah, our drama. My mum wasn’t due to COVID. She’d been poorly for a few years with Lewy body dementia and was in a care home so I wasn’t able to see her for the last three months of her life due to COVID. I’m still dealing with it really. Simon’s father passed quite early on into COVID. He had other health issues, but he did get COVID in hospital because they put him on a COVID ward. It was ridiculous.
As far as how much it informed the album, I don’t know really. I mean, Neil wrote the songs, but Neil knew my mum from when we were kids, and he did come to the funeral. We were only allowed 20 people, and he was one of those people that did come. Obviously, there are songs on the record that are slightly darker. “The Slab” particularly is pretty dark. But I didn’t write them, so in honesty, I don’t know. But we always say there is lightness on the record, and there is also a darkness there as well.
I read a comment by Neil that “being vague isn’t unusual for us.” Given that assessment, how do you get to a point where you all agree, this is the album? Clearly, he wrote the songs, but it sounds like your process is pretty democratic.
With this record, Neil came to us with about 30 different ideas, some of which were more fully formed songs and some more snippets of ideas. “Prayer Remembered” was fairly fully formed, the band played that live, and it was done quite quickly. Other songs took longer to do and went through different life forms during the course of two years, like “Kisses.”
There are several different versions. We did an electronic version of it — it doesn’t have guitars — which Christian and I wanted on the record, actually. It’s so different than anything else we’ve done, and then it was the conversation of how are we going to play that live without getting loads more gear? Up to now, we’ve not used backing tracks. We do everything live. So, we went with the guitary version — the more pure version, if you will — of that song.
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I love that song.
Thank you. Yeah, I love it, too. That one was always one that we would put out to radio. Having said that it’s barely had any radio play in the U.K., but there you go. That’s still how things are for us here, I guess. Our first studio session was canceled due to COVID because we were booked in April 2020. Obviously, that got pulled. We probably had about three or four sessions after that in a couple of other places as well, and it got to the point where Neil was doing loads and loads of mixes. I remember once he sent us about 20 versions of “alife.” I replied, “You’re joking.” He said, “That’s not even half of it.” He’d gone so far down the rabbit hole that I said around then, “Maybe we need to look at getting somebody else in to mix the record.”
Which was where Shawn Everett came in. We sent out “kisses” and “alife” to a few people for spec mixes, and it was Shawn’s that we liked the most. We narrowed the songs down to about 10 that we all liked, and in terms of it being democratic, that’s absolutely right. Then it got narrowed down to eight, in part due to the length of the record and not wanting to do double vinyl in terms of sound quality getting compromised. We all agreed on those eight in the end. There weren’t any disagreements.
How do you prevent that democratic process from paralyzing you?
It’s the majority rule of three, basically. Sometimes you’re going to be pissed off that whatever it was you wanted wasn’t agreed on by the majority, and you just have to take it on the chin. We’ve had to learn to do that, though. I don’t think we were like that probably in the 90s, but now we’re adults.
What’s different about creating and recording albums and touring in the 2010s and 2020s compared to the 90s?
All of it is very, very different. The venues we’re playing are much bigger than we used to play back then, and certainly, we didn’t do festivals. Recording-wise, we usually work from 10:00 a.m. until 6:00 p.m. instead of until about 4:00 a.m. I’m not drunk or stoned anymore. That’s very different to the ‘90s. We’re not recording on tape anymore, so it’s much easier to correct things that have gone wrong. I think we all appreciate it more now than we did the first time around.
The angst that was there between Neil and I at certain points in the ’90s — that isn’t there anymore. We were together from about the age of 18 to 22, and split up just before Souvlaki — that is kind of seen as the breakup record — and it was obviously not an easy time for either of us. To have to remain in a band together post-that was very difficult. Normally you distance yourself, and we weren’t able to do that. It wasn’t easy, and I mentally probably quite destructive — certainly for me during those bloody years.
All of that is gone. Thirty-odd years has passed, and a lot has happened. I do feel like we have a genuine friendship within the band.
You were treated badly by the British press first time around. Does it give you any satisfaction that your fan base has only grown, and you’re playing much bigger venues?
I don’t really think about it like that anymore. When we came back in 2014, there was definitely a sense of – I don’t even know what the word would be. Not smugness, but gratitude more than anything. Thank you, internet. Thank you, young people for still discovering the music and keeping Slowdive alive. I’m 52 now, but when I was 40, if somebody had said to me this is going to happen to you in the next 10 years, I would have been like, “No way.”
I’m ambivalent towards the press that we had in the U.K. at that point. It happened when we were very young like 19, 20 years old. On a personal level, I grew up in a village, and Melody Maker and NME — all those papers were like my bible. I used to read them cover to cover. All I ever wanted to do from a very young age was to be a musician and a singer. Within about a year of being in the industry, I became very disenchanted, because of the treatment that we got from this small amount of U.K. journalists. Obviously, they held a lot of power in this country at that point, and I kind of wonder what they’re doing now.
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There’s quite a big Reddit chain about the Souvlaki tracks — I guess you would call them demos — without Brian Eno on them. They’re very well-liked.
Oh, I know. Sony owns all those recordings and our back catalog, because Creation sold to them. With Souvlaki we did record a bunch of songs and [Creation Records co-founder] Alan McGee hated them — thought they were all shit. A lot of those demos that are out there were the first draft of songs that we did for Souvlaki that were rejected by Creation. Whether they might come out in some form in the future, I don’t really know. That’s something that maybe we might look at in the future with Sony — but at the moment, there’s no plans to, because we are concentrating on the here and now for obvious reasons. I mean, they’re all out there anyway.
I know that Siouxsie Sioux is an inspiration. Have you gotten to see her tour?
No, but I did buy tickets to both her London shows in September. So, I’m going. I think the second night I’ve actually got front-row seats. I was not going to rely on guest-list stuff. I bought tickets. I am very excited to see her play.
Have you met her?
No. I would love to meet her. It’s funny, because over the last 10 years I’ve often wondered how she is. I’m like, “I hope she’s okay” — because she obviously went completely away from the public eye for a few years. Women getting older got to do with it, I guess. It’s so amazing to see her back, and I’m so excited. I’ve kind of blocked it out with Slowdive. I’m not available for anything on those two days, because I’m in London seeing Siouxsie. Nothing else matters.
You have been an advocate for the rights of parents of deaf children and their access to learning sign language. Is that still important in your world?
Always. My son Jesse is profoundly deaf. He has no auditory nerve, so he’s had hearing aids since the first couple of years whilst the hospital was trying to determine his level of hearing. We went through a six-month process to determine whether he was eligible for cochlear implants. They didn’t do the MRI until last, and it was that final scan which showed he had no auditory nerve — so no cochlear implants, which was devastating. The only other option available was a brainstem implant, and we chose not to do that for him because he has a syndrome called CHARGE which is very complicated, and he was born with congenital heart disease.
So, he had to have open-heart surgery at five months old to save his life. And he would need further surgeries as an adult. When he was around the age of two, we were like, “We just have to accept that he won’t ever hear, and use a total communication approach with him as we always had anyway.” He’s a very happy little boy, and I will always advocate for deaf people and the hearing parents of deaf children.
Our eyes were opened very, very widely to how marginalized deaf people are. It’s starting to get better now. There’s starting to be more signing stuff. It still frustrates me that’s just not standard across the board for everything. A lot of TV programs in the U.K. do have versions of programs with a little signer in the corner, but that’s not on until 3:00 in the morning. It makes me wonder, why do you think only the deaf people are awake at 3:00 in the morning?
How old is your son now?
He’s 13 now. He’s a whiz on the iPad, like probably most other kids. He gets really, really annoyed if Wi-Fi goes down. He’s fully tube fed. He doesn’t really eat or drink either. There are various challenges that we’ve had to navigate with him. But at the core of it, he’s happy, and we just keep him safe and keep him happy. He’s been in a deaf school since he was four, which teaches fully in BSL sign language. He can lip read, but he can sign only a little bit. Because of his syndrome it’s more difficult for him. But he has a communication iPad with pictures so he’s now up to full sentences. He’s very delayed in everything. I could go on for hours about CHARGE syndrome, disability, non-utilization, all that stuff. I will never stop. It’s very important to me.
Does he like your music?
I don’t know. Hee’s felt it through a resonance board made with a Bluetooth speaker on it. We put him on it as a baby so he could feel the vibration. He’s been to two gigs of ours now. He came to Hyde Park when we played for The Cure. That was good, because that was in the afternoon. He was dancing through it. He could obviously feel it coming up through the stage. At the end of the show, I brought him out to the audience, and everyone waved — a few thousand people waving. It was a very special moment and some of our crew started crying. And then most recently, he came to see us locally at Glastonbury in a small club. He had a balcony seat with his dad, and he insisted on watching us through the camera of an iPhone. Strange.
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Slowdive was away for a long time. During that hiatus, did you ever feel, “I wish I was back doing that?“
I wasn’t actually out of music for that long. It only ended up being about five years, because Neil and I did Mojave 3 for 10 years post-Slowdive and released five albums on 4AD. So, I was still out there doing stuff. I took my break when the last Mojave 3 record was released. I got labyrinthitis which ironically gave me nerve damage in my cochlear on the left side. I’ve got profound hearing loss on the left side at certain frequencies. It also left me with permanent tinnitus, and I had terrible vertigo for four months. I couldn’t walk a straight line, and I had balance-retraining therapy for a year. That was when I dipped out doing live work and music. I spent two years post-that feeling very devastated, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to do music anymore.
I didn’t think Slowdive would be a thing again, and it took me two years, but I made my peace with not doing music after I got sick — which is why now I’m even more grateful to the fact that I have been able to come back and do it. I wear molded earplugs when we rehearse to help with my tinnitus and monitors when we play live for that same reason. So, I’ve managed that.
I’ve got to ask what you make of Americans’ fascination with Megan Markle and Prince Harry.
Well, I’m not over there, so I’m not really that privy to it. Is it a good obsession or a bad obsession?
They’re in the news practically every day.
Are they really? I don’t know what to make of that. I kind of feel like, good for Harry in making a split from his family and turning up for his own family. Meghan Markle — until she was with him, I didn’t know who she was. Whatever that program she was in, I never watched it. It means nothing to me really. I guess people like to have something to be obsessed about, and the Royals are one of those. Not so much for the English. There are some people here that are real Royal-y, but I don’t get it.
Donald Trump was just indicted for the fourth time. Does our political turmoil interest you at all?
Well, yes, it does interest me. I mean, f–king hell. There are certain things about America that I love visiting. I just couldn’t live there. Just — the gun laws. Obviously, Trump getting indicted is not before time [a British expression used to indicate that something should have happened a long time ago], put it that way, but I think the shootings that keep happening there and the mass shootings — it’s really f–king sad. It’s so sad. It’s horrible to see.
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As Aidan Noell, the keyboardist for New York-based synth-pop band Nation of Language, elaborates on her love of Death Cab for Cutie, her husband (and band frontman) Ian Devaney stealthily removes one of his boots and begins whacking at a spotted lanternfly that has landed near them in the backyard garden of a Brooklyn coffee shop.
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“I think he’s dead, Ian,” Noell deadpans as Devaney turns the invasive pest into paste with legs. “Ian is the No. 1 killer of lanternflies,” she says.
Devaney may want to talk to the Orkin people about a side hustle, but at the moment, he and Noell are a bit busy. On Sept. 7 they begin a nearly 50-date tour that will see them headline Rough Trade’s iNDIEPLAZA festival at Rockefeller Center in their hometown (Sept. 9) and perform in the United Kingdom, Europe and North America before the end of the year. The live run will coincide with the Sept. 15 release of the band’s third album, Strange Disciple on the PIAS label.
Nation of Language caught fire near the beginning of the pandemic when their first album, Introduction, Presence, was released in May 2020. At a time when music fans under lockdown were looking for comfort, their debut was an irresistible confection of familiar and new sounds. Devaney, who hails from Westfield, NJ and is the band’s principal songwriter, nimbly builds nostalgic hooks and loops from such synth-pop and post-punk masters as Kraftwerk, Depeche Mode, Human League, Flock of Seagulls and Talking Heads — into brand new songs that are as irresistible as their predecessors. In concert, he channels his musical forebears as well, stalking the stage with jagged, jerky moves, an asymmmetric haircut and (more recently) the beginnings of a Midge Ure mustache.
Devaney and Noell, who recently celebrated their fifth year of marriage (and often finish each other’s sentences), have been on the road almost nonstop since touring resumed in 2021, playing to larger and larger audiences such as the Primavera festival in Barcelona. They say they are looking forward to this next leg of shows because, Devaney explains, the band’s second album, A Way Forward, was released just as lockdowns were ending. “So we were essentially touring the first and second albums at the same time.” Their fall itinerary will be “the first time in quite a while where we are performing songs that people haven’t heard before.”
Below, they talk with Billboard about life on the road as a married couple, artists who have influenced them and much more.
How did you two meet?
Noell: Ian was on tour with his previous band, Static Jacks, who were opening for The Wombats in Kansas City. I was there with my mom because we love going to shows together, and I was enamored with him and his performance. My mom was like, “You should go talk to him.” So I did, and that’s how we met.
Devaney: I was terrified because this was a girl that came to the show with her mom. I was like, “Very nice to meet you.” Handshake.
Aidan, you didn’t know how to play an instrument when you joined the band. How did you learn so quickly.
Noell: Determination. All of Ian’s friends who had played in his bands had moved away, and I felt like it was my duty to do whatever I could to keep his project going. I thought, I can do this if I just try hard enough. Please just try teaching me. And he did.
Ian, as Nation of Language has graduated to progressively larger stages, you seem to have no trouble expanding your performance to fit the space. Have you worked with anyone on accomplishing that?
Devaney: I guess it’s instinctual. It’s very much just doing whatever feels natural. There are definitely moments where, because the stages we play can vary so greatly in size, I’m like, “Is what I’m doing right for this environment?”
But the goal is to let the moment take over as much of my decisions as possible. I try not to overthink what I’m doing in each moment. When I was in high school, my performance style was very showy and all over the place. There were more elements of Mick Jagger and Jim Morrison — classic rock frontman things — going on. Then I rejected that and wanted to stand still. Eventually, I found my way back into movement. Ultimately, it’s my form of dancing. The best way I can describe it is it’s like having a hairbrush in your bedroom when you’re playing your favorite songs.
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Obsession seems to be one of themes of Strange Disciple. You seem to be a happy couple. Where does the obsession come from?
Devaney: There’s our relationship to each other, but there are past relationships. There’s putting oneself in friends’ shoes and witnessing their relationships. Not all the obsessions that inspire the music are inherently romantic. Whether it’s obsession with…
Noell: An idealized version of yourself.
Devaney: Or with social media and your relationship to it. It’s anything that captures your attention so much that it warps everything else around you.
Would your fans’ idealization of you have anything to do with that?
Devaney: I don’t think so. I never saw myself as an — I definitely don’t want it to seem adversarial towards our audience.
Nation of Language doesn’t sound anything like The War on Drugs, but I feel like you’ve got something in common in that I’m able to hear your musical influences very clearly. Adam Granduciel’s love of Tom Petty, Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen is evident in his songs; Depeche Mode, Kraftwerk, Human League, in yours. Did you ever worry that people would consider your music pastiche?
Devaney: Not really. Those sounds are just the palette that captivates me. It’s not me wanting to write a song that sounds like a Human League song. It’s just using some of the same tools.
What are the essential albums in your collection?
Devaney: When it comes to the albums that I would say are in the pantheon of what drives this band, The Man-Machine by Kraftwerk; Remain in Light by Talking Heads, Loveless by My Bloody Valentine. To me, they exist in that kind of rarefied area where the artists were striving to make something that can stand apart. They’re not going to mean everything to everyone but to me they have this mystique, and you can feel the ambition in each of them. I am always striving to be as ambitious as possible, especially now that we are in this third album phase where you start to feel like there’s some things that might be expected of you. I don’t want to find myself curbing my ambition in order to—
Noell: Hit those marks.
Devaney: But you don’t even know what the marks are because you can’t really know what people want from you. If you start trying to hit imaginary marks you could just end up screwing yourself — and feeling really uninspired and bad about it. In terms of what I’ve been listening recently: the New Alvvays album — actually all three because I missed the boat with them until very recently. Weyes Blood is another artist that I listen to a lot. Aldous Harding. Cola.
Noell: I had a very midwestern emo youth, but my first concert was Death Cab for Cutie and that was my very favorite band in high school. I really love their most recent album, and we get to go see them this fall with The Postal Service so I’m very excited about that.
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What have been the band’s biggest challenges?
Devaney: The first thing that comes to mind is health. We do a lot of touring, and I get sick on basically every tour. That makes everything so much harder.
Noell: Since the last tour, where we all got sick, we’re like, all right, we’re going to try every possible cure for bad immune systems. We’re all on crazy vitamins and Ian is drinking herbal remedies every day.
Devaney: Thinking larger than that, I struggle a lot with the idea of disappointing people, especially if they’ve invested emotionally in us the way that fans have started to [be]. And the health plays into that when you get onstage, you haven’t been feeling great and you feel like you haven’t given everything. It’s trying to find a balance where not everything feels like the highest stakes in the world every single day.
Noell: It takes a huge toll on Ian’s mental health. Before our show in London, which was going to be our biggest yet, Ian basically lost his voice and was really afraid of disappointing people on stage. That was one of the lowest mental health points that I’ve seen him in.
Ian, how did you deal with that?
Devaney: I was able to do that show fine — and the show the next night in Glasgow, I gave them the last shred of what I had.
Noell: And of course everyone was like, “That was the greatest show I’ve ever seen.” Meanwhile, Ian is dying on stage.
Devaney: I think what people want is to feel that you are present, and that what they are witnessing is not just the same exact thing you did yesterday. Trying to figure that out helps with fighting the perfectionism that can infiltrate your brain. If you can just roll with punches and erode the barrier between you and the people that are there to share in the moment, that makes everything so much easier and so much more fun. The pressure dials back then.
We’ve reported that indie bands have had a hard time touring because of inflation, expenses and other factors. Nation of Language seems to have avoided this. Can you offer some perspective how to tour successfully?
Devaney: We certainly feel what everyone else has been feeling. Our first several European tours were done with the understanding that we would definitely lose money even if we sold every ticket and everyone bought merch. We had to view those tours as investments for the future.
Still, last year was an especially perfect storm, in that our expenses all went up significantly, but our income went the other direction. We were getting paid the fees we had agreed to months before inflation took off. Add to that a very strong U.S. dollar versus weaker overseas currencies, and it was ugly to look at the budgets. We had a conversation about canceling last fall, but that felt like it’d be letting so many people down who wanted to attend these shows. It felt really special to us that there was a vocal audience in other parts of the world, and that it was growing with each trip we took. So, we just took the hit.
How did you make it work?
Devaney: We were able to use funds we were making from comparatively stable North American touring to offset the losses incurred overseas, and we hoped that doing so would eventually lead to sustainable touring in larger rooms. In June, we finally had a string of European dates where we came out ahead. So, for now we’re telling ourselves it worked out. Even so, our situation isn’t entirely duplicable for other artists. We don’t have to bring drums or amps, so we’re able to travel in much smaller vehicles and we can fly with all of our gear without incurring much in baggage fees. Pro-tip for young bands that we wish we’d been told sooner: Pick an airline and stick with it. As soon as you have status you’re saving significantly on every trip thereafter.
At the end of the day, the live show is just such a big part of this band’s identity. We can’t imagine not making it work so we’ve built everything around the idea that we need to be able to tour effectively and efficiently.
You use a company called Music Glue to sell your concert tickets and merch. Do you use it to avoid the fees and markups that more established companies such as Ticketmaster would charge?
Devaney: Fees are certainly a huge problem right now. It seems like you get punished for trying to keep your ticket prices low. Often, we agree to a ticket price and then somehow there’s 30%-40% arbitrarily added on. From top to bottom, no one is willing to have a real conversation about where that money goes or why this is the system we’re all going along with. On top of that, the ticketing companies then scoop up all the data on those fans who buy tickets and use it as they see fit. Music Glue allows us, in a small way, to step outside of that doom spiral. We can keep the fees low for tickets sold directly through our site, and it seems to net us a ton of signups to our mailing list by fans who want to have a direct relationship with us.
Alex MacKay is your new bassist. Why did Michael Sue-Poi leave?
Devaney: The lineup of the band has changed at least four or five times, and ultimately, as we were starting to tour more and more, the road does not always agree with everyone. It’s the sort of thing that many people idealize, and then once you’re actually there, you realize, oh, most of my time is not my own. I have pretty much no personal space, especially at that point, it was four of us in a hotel room every night. And especially touring in America, where so many of the drives are six to eight hours, you all stay in the same room; you wake up; you all go to breakfast together; you start the drive and you get to sound check and you’re always in the same exact space.
Noell: It’s not that making or playing music isn’t for them. It’s that the road life isn’t for everyone. Luckily, we have found someone, Alex MacKay, who absolutely loves the road life.
Does it help to be married when you are touring so much?
Noell: Oh yeah. We are spoiled, I would say. Getting to work with each other and see each other every day all the time is amazing and we’re super lucky. And we always have each other to fall back on when our mental health does really —
Devaney: Ultimately being able to effectively communicate is such a crucial part of any touring party whether they’re members who are married or not. So, having that with each other foundationally, and then also with the other people we travel with it just makes life so much easier.
I guess have you started writing the next album? What’s next for you?
Devaney: In these little downtimes we have this summer between festival trips. I’ve been trying to spend as much time as possible creating but in a very…
Noell: No-pressure way.
Devaney: There are some songs that have been around since the second album that, as each album has come up, I’ve been like, “It’s not right for that, but it could be a place we go.” I’m always trying to write without expectations so that I can potentially plant the seeds for future directions. There are a bundle of demos floating around where I’m like, I could lean into this vibe a little more or take things over here.
Noell: It’s hardest for me, who gets to hear all these demos. I become obsessed with these songs. I’m like, “They should be on this album. Come on, let’s put it out.” And he’s like, “No, it’s not right yet.”
Devaney: It is weird that some of my favorite songs I’ve written are not on any album — because I’m like, “No, now is not the time.” Making each record turns into more of a curatorial mindset, where you’re like, [figuring out] which things fit together and complete this puzzle that would be the record. Things get put off to the future, because they don’t seem exactly right, for a reason that you can’t even explain to yourself.
You put out the first single for this album in March and have since released three more. What’s the strategy behind putting out singles so far in advance of the album release?
Noell: It’s half-strategy, half-…. once again, the record printing is so slow. For the last two albums it was difficult to get records printed and pressed and shipped to people who preordered them on the date that the record came out.
Devaney: This time we wanted to make sure that those dates are fully aligned. With the first album we ended up releasing more singles than we anticipated because the release date was pushed back by a month. And we found that with each single, more people were finding the band and more [media] were covering each single. We tried that again for the second album, and it worked really well. So, this time we’re doing it again, with a fifth single dropping on the album release date.
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Bebel Gilberto embodies the essence of bossa nova’s modern evolution. Last Wednesday (Aug. 16), the singer-songwriter showcased this on stage at a sold-out show at Poisson Rouge, nestled in the heart of New York’s storied bohemian neighborhood Greenwich Village, where she gave audiences an early preview of her latest album João (out Friday, Aug. 25), a heartfelt tribute to her late Brazilian father, João Gilberto.
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As the daughter of the bossa nova legend — and also of Brazilian music icon Miúcha — Bebel’s art is deeply rooted in her musical heritage. Yet the singer has carved a distinct path of her own, fusing traditional Brazilian rhythms with electronic flourishes and global influences. On João, she brings it all back home. With her ethereal voice and innovative production, Bebel effortlessly transcends the classic genre, reimagining the sonic boundaries of Brazilian music with a New York state of mind, and a thrust for cultural exploration.
Last week on stage, the Brazilian chanteuse — who wore a vintage-style black Prada dress and her carefully messy hair pinned up — was a musical force: spunky yet elegant with a dashing sense of humor. “Sorry, but for some reason I’m feeling Beyoncé,” she said as she gave the sound engineers feedback to take out some reverb. Applying red lipstick, she declared, “I’m not just bossa nova, I’m punk. I lived in New York City for 29 years.” She then proceeded to invite a cute shih tzu dog on stage while crooning, “I love you.” For the encore, she came out sipping on a Corona, while her mellifluous melodies weaved an intricate tapestry of emotions.
New York City was just one stop of her international João Tour, where she’ll make her way to major cities like Los Angeles, San Francisco, Quebec City, Stockholm and London. Recorded at Reservoir Studios in New York, João was created alongside producer Thomas Bartlett, with Bebel gathering a collective of musicians such as her nephew drummer Chico Brown, as well as guitarist Guilherme Monteiro and music arranger and trombone player, Clark Gayton.
Billboard Español caught up with the artist to discuss five essential songs from João.
“Adeus América”
I would start with the opening song, “Adeus América.” It’s a song that I discovered through my father’s voice. He had done a live presentation [of it] at the [19th] Montreux Jazz Festival, the legendary Montreux Jazz Festival [in Switzerland]. He was coming back to Brazil after being in the United States, and touring around the world for the last 20 years. The fact that he sang that song [to me] inspired me to open the album with it. It was the first song I recorded.
The guitar is from Guilherme Monteiro, who’s been touring with me. He did incredible work, researching my father’s chord changes, dissecting the way that daddy played, and the right vibe. I love the production by Thomas Bartlett — who was super open, opinionated, as he’s not Brazilian, you know? It was like a trip into my dad’s music. I have deep love for “Adeus América” in particular, and I love the result. It is catchy and I hold it in my heart. It’s one of my favorites.
Editor’s note: the original song was recorded in 1985, and released two years later on the album Live in Montreux.
“Eu Vim Da Bahia”
My second selection is “Eu Vim Da Bahia,” a song that’s on another album from my dad’s, which is known as the White Album [Ed. Note: It’s João Gilberto’s 1973 self-titled album]. “Eu vim da bahia” in English means “I came from Bahia.” The original song is from Gilberto Gil, who actually shares the same name as my father, and people kept confusing them. Gil’s recording has a totally different vibe.
When daddy did it, it was so intense — and it tells the story of Bahia, the background, why he came from Bahia and why he wants to come back. It’s also a nostalgic song, and I believe that is one of my best interpretations. I was a big fan for a long time, but I never thought I was going to one day record it. It was one of the songs that I easily did. I’m very happy with my vocals. It took me two or three takes; it wasn’t a big effort. I really took a trip on it and it was really beautiful. I love the results.
“É Preciso Perdoar”
“É Preciso Perdoar” is one of the most beautiful songs of the album, and maybe my favorite song ever. My father also recorded it on that same White Album and it’s been recorded by Cesária Évora, [Ryuichi Sakamoto and Caetano Veloso] on the Red Hot & Rio album that got so famous, [where] David Byrne also participated. But the words reflect the state of mind that I am currently in.
There is also an electronic effect that Thomas did. It’s really beautiful, and I think it captures the mantra that the song has. I’m very courageous to take the chance to re-record such a classic. I have beautiful drummers playing on it. One of them is my nephew, Chico Brown, Carlinhos Brown’s son. He did incredible work and programming. I also really love Guilherme Monteiro’s guitar.
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The video is really beautiful. When I created the vibe, I wanted to do a little bit of acting on it. [The song has] very deep words. I decided to do something inspired by Sinéad O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U” [music video]. Later, she left us. I wish she knew. She inspired so many people around the world, and probably she didn’t even know that.
“Undiú”
That one is my father’s composition. It’s an instrumental song my father created on his guitar. My father loved yoga and he loved mantras. He really practiced yoga as [much as] the guitar. His obsession with religion was also the way of playing the guitar. That song sounds like a mantra, it’s beautiful. Thomas Bartlett also plays accordion on that song. It’s quite psychedelic in a way. I’m very happy to take that step away from the classics and do an untouched song from my dad.
“O Pato”
The fifth one is called “the duck.” It’s a song that my father got very famous for at the beginning of his career. It’s very funny; it sounds like a song from a cartoon. I was involved in all the arrangements and invited this great, incredible trombone player, Clark Gayton, who developed all the arrangements with me. It sounds a little playful — [to have] the horns, which are adorable, playing against the guitar and the drums. I love it. It sounds a little funky and childish at the same time. It’s very fun and I’m very happy that I recreated such a classic in a totally different approach.
Full stream of João below: