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Read ArticlesFor the last two years, I’ve poured my angst, joy, wonder and grief into a musical project called Current Dissonance.
I read the news voraciously, and every few days, a story resonates with particular thunder. I sit with that story in mind, as inspiration and intention, and then record a piece of solo piano music, composed on the spot, in reaction. Most often, Current Dissonance subscribers receive the new track within minutes of its completion.
I love engaging with this project. It’s become a cathartic practice and wordless diary, connective tissue when so much around us seems to be fracturing, something full of guts and blood and soul that feels deeply personal and unapologetically human.
Given all that, I find it both thrilling and jarring that AI music creation has advanced to a point where well-crafted algorithms could largely take my place as the brain, heart and fingers behind this project.
At its core, the fusion of AI and music creation isn’t new, and its evolution from tweaky curiosity to full-on cultural juggernaut has been fascinating to watch. My first exposure came via Digital Audio Workstations (DAWs) — the complex software suites used to produce nearly all new music. Years ago, I experimented with an early AI feature that allowed virtual drummers to bang out rudimentary grooves tailored to my songs-in-progress; another utility let me stretch and distort audio samples in subtle or grotesque ways. Later, I wrote coverage of a startup that used machine learning to auto-generate soundtracks for video.
Some of those legacy AI utilities felt promising but imperfect, others inelegant to the point of unusability. But they all showed the potential of what was to come. And it’s not hard to see that what was coming has now arrived — with the force of a freight train.
Welcome To The New A(I)ge
Examples of AI’s growth spurt permeate the music world. For cringe-worthy fun, check out There I Ruined It, where AI Simon & Garfunkel sing lyrics from “Baby Got Back” and “My Humps” to the melody of “Sound of Silence.” Then visit Suno, where single-sentence prompts yield remarkably realistic songs — fully-produced, with customized lyrics — in electronica, folk, metal and beyond. Open up Logic Pro and hear just how big and vivid its AI mastering utility can make a track sound in seconds. These developments are just the overture, and there’s no technical reason why a vast array of musical projects — including my own — couldn’t be AI-ified in the movements to come.
For example, I’ve created 154 short piano pieces for Current Dissonance, as of the writing of this article. Hours more of my piano work are publicly accessible. An AI model could be trained on those recordings to look for patterns in the notes I play, the chord voicings I choose, the ways I modulate volume and manipulate rhythms — all the subtle choices that make me sound like me, as opposed to anyone else sitting at a piano.
The algorithm would also need to learn the relationship between each Current Dissonance movement and the news article it reinterprets, building a map of correlations between facets of the written story and recorded music. Do Locrian-mode motifs in 7/8 permeate my playing when I’m reflecting on South Asian politics — and are C#s twice as likely to appear when I reimagine headlines that are less than four words long? I have no idea, but a well-trained AI model would parse those potential patterns and more.
In the end, my hypothetical AI Current Dissonance would function like Suno does for popular music formats. To hear a Michael Gallant-style piano reaction to anything, type in your prompt and see what erupts.
While this may sound like a daydream, the key technical bedrock exists right now, or will exist soon. Following a similar development pathway, I doubt it’ll be long before we can also hear how Tchaikovsky might have reacted symphonically to war in Ukraine, or how McCoy Tyner could have soloed over “Vampire,” “Believer,” or any other tune written after his death. Elvis Presley reimagining Elvis Costello, Billie Holiday reinterpreting Billie Eilish, John Philip Sousa composing marches to honor nations that didn’t exist when he did — the possibilities are stunning.
But where does all of this innovation leave today’s music professionals?
Old Theme, New Variations
Recent conversations with fellow music-makers have yielded gallows humor, dark jokes about obsolescence at the hands of the robots — but also a sense of resilience, the feeling that we’ve heard this tune before.
Take for example the advancement of synthesizer technology, which has certainly constricted market demand for musicians who make their living playing in recording sessions. And the ubiquitousness of affordable, powerful DAWs like Pro Tools, Ableton Live and GarageBand has snuffed out a generation of commercial studios and their engineers’ careers. Those losses are real and devastating, but they’re only part of the story.
Inventing, programming and performing with synthesizers has become a thriving musical specialty of its own, creating new professional opportunities amidst ashes of the old. The same can be said for the brilliant minds who make every new bit of music software even more amazing. And democratized music production due to GarageBand and its ilk has made possible the global ascent of DIY artists who could never have afforded to work in traditional studios.
As the duality of loss and regrowth takes hold in the AI era, everyone involved in music must amplify the latter, while keeping the former as muted as possible. There are key steps that communities and countries alike can take to ensure that AI music technology boosts existing creators and inspires new ones — that it enhances human creativity more than it cuts us down.
Shedding for the Future
The biggest error music-makers can commit is pretending that nothing will change. When it comes to AI, willful ignorance will lead to forced irrelevance. Let’s avoid that future.
Instead, I encourage all music-makers to learn as much about AI music technology as possible. These tools are not secret weapons, siloed away for the rich and privileged; with an internet connection and a few hours, any music-maker can gain at least a high-level look at what’s going on. It’s incumbent on all of us to learn the landscape, learn the tools and see how they can make our human music-making better.
Music-makers must also double down on human connections. For artists with followings large or small, this means rededicating ourselves to building meaningful relationships with audiences, strengthening the human connection that AI can only approximate. Taking time to greet listeners at each performance, making space to bond with superfans — just as in-person concerts will grow in meaning as fiction and reality become increasingly indistinguishable in the digital world, so will the importance of face-to-face conversations, handshakes and high-fives, hugs between artists and those who see beauty in their music.
For music-makers who spend their time in studio settings, reinforcing connections with clients and collaborators will also be key. While I currently rely on AI-fueled music tools in some contexts, I cherish every opportunity to team up with fellow humans, because I’m blessed to work with great people who elevate and inspire me. That’s another vital connection that AI cannot now — or hopefully ever — replace.
It Takes a Movement
Music-makers, those who support them in commerce and industry, and those who weave music into their lives as listeners — all of us must help build a movement that cherishes human creativity lifted through technology.
There’s already hard evidence that protecting artists’ digital integrity is an all-too-rare consensus issue within American politics; check out Tennessee’s bipartisan ELVIS Act for more. Music-makers in any community can push their local and national leaders to ride Tennessee’s momentum and reproduce its successes against AI abuse. As a voting member of the Recording Academy, I’m proud of the organization’s pro-human activism efforts when it comes to federal copyright law and other vital issues. Every music-related entity should make noise in favor of similar protections.
Granted, even the smartest laws will only go so far. AI music technology is so accessible that trolls and bad actors will likely be able to manipulate musicians’ voices, privately and anonymously, without suffering real consequences — a dynamic unlikely to change anytime soon. But the more our culture brands such exploitative recordings as tasteless and taboo, the better. We cultivate respect for human creators when we marginalize the consumption of non-consensual, AI-smelted musical plastic.
Consent is one key; control is another. While industry executives, music-makers of all shapes and flavors, influencers and lawmakers must collectively insist that musicians remain masters of their own voices, I recommend we go further by empowering artists themselves to take the lead.
It would be brilliant, and fair, for Madonna or Janelle Monáe, Juanes or Kendrick Lamar, to release interactive AI albums that they, the artists, control. Such properties could allow fans to create custom AI tracks from raw material exclusively recorded for that purpose. Under no circumstances should AI assets be leveraged for any use without the explicit permission — and compensation — of the humans responsible for the music on which those algorithms were trained.
…And I Feel Fine
In the face of AI’s explosion, we must remember to stay curious, hungry and optimistic. Investors, inventors and tech companies must look beyond novelty song creation as the technology’s highest musical goal; I can’t imagine how far AI will go when applied to creating new instruments, for example. Much of the music I make is improvisational, formed in my brain milliseconds before it’s realized by my fingers. How amazing would it be to jam with live band members — as well as an AI algorithm trained to create instant orchestrations, in real time as I play, using a never-before-heard chimera of Les Paul overdrive, volcanic glass vibraphone and a grizzly bear roaring?
AI presents massive challenges to human creators of any sort, but if we proceed with thoughtfulness and respect, new innovations will lift music-making communities everywhere. I for one will be thrilled to learn who the first Beethoven, Beyoncé and Robert Johnson of the AI era will be, and to hear the masterpieces they create.
Michael Gallant is a musician, composer, producer, and writer living in New York City.
As AI Finds Its Voice, Music Communities Must Strengthen Theirs (Guest Column)
Taylor Swift is anything but an anti-hero, as far as Sophie Turner is concerned. In an interview with British Vogue published Wednesday (May 15), the Game of Thrones actress opened up about temporarily living with her daughters in the pop star’s New York City apartment last year amid her divorce from Joe Jonas, calling the pop superstar an “absolute hero” for supporting her through the challenging time.
According to the publication, Turner had long felt uncomfortable cultivating a relationship with Swift given the 14-time Grammy winner’s past romance with the Jonas Brothers band member. Things changed, however, when the Do Revenge star split from Jonas.
When she arrived in New York City last fall to sort out a custody disagreement with her ex, she reached out to Swift for rental recommendations. Instead, the “Karma” musician offered up her own place for free.
“I’ve never been more grateful to anyone than I am for her because she took my children and me, and provided us with a home and a safe space,” said Turner, sho shares 3-year-old Willa and 1-year-old Delphine with Jonas. “She really has a heart of gold.”
During that time, Swift was often spotted hanging out and grabbing dinner with Turner in the city. In October, the pair attended one of Travis Kelce’s Kansas City Chiefs games at MetLife Stadium together.
Simultaneously, gossip sites began painting Turner as an inattentive mother with an unhealthy love for partying. “It hurt because I really do completely torture myself over every move I make as a mother – mum guilt is so real!” she said of the rumors. “I just kept having to say to myself, ‘None of this is true. You are a good mum and you’ve never been a partier.'”
“There were some days that I didn’t know if I was going to make it,” Turner added. “I would call my lawyer saying, ‘I can’t do this. I just can’t.’ I was just never strong enough to stand up for myself. And then, finally, after two weeks of me being in a rut, she reminded me that it was my children I was fighting for.”
Turner also said that she’s now focused on forming a healthy co-parenting relationship with Jonas, who filed for divorce in September. Shortly afterward, the pair posted a joint statement calling the split a “united decision” and writing, “We have mutually decided to amicably end our marriage.”
Later that month, Turner sued Jonas for the “wrongful retention” of their two children in New York. By mid-October, however, they tentatively resolved their custody battle after a four-day mediation period. “After a productive and successful mediation, we have agreed that the children will spend time equally in loving homes in both the U.S. and the UK.,” they said in a joint statement shared with Billboard. “We look forward to being great co-parents.”
See Turner’s British Vogue cover and photos below:
Sophie Turner Praises ‘Hero’ Taylor Swift for Giving Her Kids a ‘Safe Space’ Amid Joe Jonas Divorce
Just two days before Sinkane hopped on Zoom to speak with Billboard about his stunning new We Belong LP – a 46-minute ode to the music of the Black diaspora and the undying legacy of the Black Arts Movement – the NYPD stormed the campus of Columbia University and arrested nearly 100 students who were occupying one of the school’s halls in memory of Hind Rajab, a young Palestinian girl murdered by Israeli military forces. With a historic moment in U.S. protest history in the background, a conversation about an album laser-focused on global Black liberation and solidarity is as disorienting as it is necessary.
As guest vocalist Tru Osborne beautifully sings on standout track “Everything Is Everything”: “That’s the problem with tomorrow/ Always one day away/ I wanna be free in this moment/ And this is what I pray.”
We Belong, the eighth studio album from Sudanese-American musician born Ahmed Gallab, arrived on April 5 via City Slang. At a brisk 10 tracks, the ‘70s funk-rooted record pulls together a bevy of standout vocalists including Osborne, Stout, Hollie Cook and Bilal for a journey through the sounds of quiet storm, Afrobeats, reggae, jazz, gospel and disco. With a catalog that stretches back over a decade, Sinkane chose to both pour into himself and step away from the spotlight to craft We Belong.
“I came into this album with one singular vision: I wasn’t going to make it about me,” he declares. “Every other album is about me, my identity issues, that stuff. Music is essentially therapy to allow me to figure out who I am. In the last five years, I did all that self-work on my own. I went to therapy, went back to music school [and] took time off from playing music.”
Not only does We Belong mark Sinkane’s first LP since the COVID-19 pandemic, but it also stands as his first record since going back to music school. In 2022, he graduated with a master’s degree in studio composition from SUNY Purchase, an achievement that radiates across the boundless, intricate arrangements that comprise We Belong. It was through this self-work that Sinkane could built the community he needed to create an album dedicated to collective freedom in the spirit of the interconnected poetic works of Black Arts Movement writers such as Sonia Sanchez, Nikki Giovanni and Audre Lorde.
“My grandma on my dad’s side was a poet,” he muses. “My dad was a creative writer. My grandfather on my mom’s side had religious gatherings in our house where he would recite stories of the Prophet Mohammed, essentially spiritual Sufi poetry, so it’s all existed in my life since I was born. We drew a lot of influence from the ‘70s Black Arts Movement.”
Between a deeper level of understanding of his craft and years of introspection, Sinkane ended up with this gorgeous new record, which he’s supporting with a series of electric live shows across the U.S. and U.K. Below, Sinkane unpacks the Afrofuturist influences on his new record and the value of short albums — and at the end of our discussion, the genre-bending artist shares the stories behind three key tracks from We Belong.
Did you go into the studio with a pre-existing concept for We Belong, or did the album naturally come together through each studio session?
I got really bored of writing Sinkane music because it just became too easy. I could sit down and write this song that sounded like “Sinkane” very quickly. I [wasn’t] challenged anymore. So I’m like, How can I create something new? Let me not make it about me. Let me look at different genres of music that I’m not always connected to or that I don’t necessarily draw my influence from. I became really obsessed with Afrobeats, dancehall, the American sound sounds that I like [such as] funk and soul how reggae songs are constructed and how they harmonize, straight-up jazz. I really threw myself into that stuff and I realized [that I was] connecting with Black music in a way that I haven’t before.
Another big inspiration was the Black music coming out of the U.K., like Sault and Michael Kiwanuka and Little Simz and Moses Boyd. They all really inspired me. They’re doing this really interesting thing with electronic music, and it seemed connected to Africa in a way that Black music in the United States isn’t quite connected to Africa. It was different and it piqued my curiosity, and I really delved into it.
As I started formulating music that started to make sense to me, it came time to write about something. When you’re listening to Sault and Burna Boy and Bob Marley and Parliament and Stevie Wonder, all of their songs are about the Black experience in one way, shape or form. It was a perfect opportunity for me to not make this about me [and] figure out how I respond to this collective experience. It was really, really cathartic and very affirming for me.
It connected me to a really large network of people that were kind of hidden in plain sight in New York and in the U.K., who I could tap to help me create this thing. It connected me to Stout, Tru Osborne, Casey Benjamin, Kenyatta Beasley, Hollie Cook, Corey Wallace and Sheddrick Mitchell — all these really amazing Black artists who were able to help me make it about all of us together.
Talk to me about going back to music school shifted your approach to We Belong in comparison to your previous records.
Before, the way I would write songs is I’d listen obsessively to music that I was inspired by, and I would essentially bring it to my studio and rip it off in some way. I’d be like, Oh, man, I really love this baseline, let me replay it, and then I’d go from there. It was really great to write like that, but after a while, I could feel and see how blocky everything was. It didn’t feel like it was telling a story. I was [just] showcasing what I was listening to. I was able to create really awesome music out of it, but it just got really boring.
When I went back to music school, even though I was doing a master’s program, I took all of the undergrad theory classes that I could take. I was a complete sponge. It made me understand how much I already knew, but also bridged the gap of the things that I didn’t know to get to where I wanted to go. The reason why I made music the way that I did before is because I just didn’t know how to make it. Now, I can take this musical idea and see what it would sound like within the framework of my creative workflow.
I took different independent studies on Afrobeat music, Afro-Cuban music, and Afro-Brazilian music, and really understood the science behind [those styles.] You learn music theory, and then you learn how Beethoven and Bach and Mozart all broke those rules and created what they created. And then you learn how jazz music essentially did the same thing. It made me so much more confident as a songwriter, because I knew I finally had the tools, and knew how to implement them.
Nearly every high-profile album this year boasts a lengthy tracklist of over 20 songs. Was the brevity of We Belong intentional?
I wrote 30 songs for this album. I did that because I read about how Michael Jackson, when he made Thriller, wrote like 900 songs between him and his songwriters. That album has, what, nine songs on it?! They were able to sift through 900 songs to make an album with nine songs that had seven top 10 singles. In the past, [I’d] write like 10 songs and pick nine of them. [This time,] I really pushed myself to write as many [songs] as I could, to see if that helped bring out the best — and it did it. To be honest, I had to stop writing; once I finished recording, I wrote five more that may or may not have made the record if they were done before.
I feel like my attention span, as far as records, is fairly short. [Beyoncé‘s] Cowboy Carter is a great record. It has so many songs and I listened to it quite a bit on my tour last month ‘cause you’re driving on the highway, you just want to put it on and listen to it all the way through. But an album like Brittany Howard‘s is so tight and easy to listen to. You can really dig into it because it’s so concise. I like that about records. I like making it short and sweet and tight.
Also, your record label always wants you to make it short, sweet and tight. Everything needs to be like three seconds or less, otherwise people just move on to something else. So, there was that kind of influence — but also, 10 songs got the point across.
What’s been the experience of crafting and promoting an album that’s caked in the legacy of the Black radical music tradition while the world around us is attempting to stifle that kind of solidarity for liberation at every turn?
It’s inspiring to make that music; it’s one way of political protest to have a soapbox like I do and use that to talk about these things, so that we do not allow the erasure of our identities to continue. That’s essentially what people are doing, and that’s why we’re not talking about Congo. It’s why we’re not talking about Sudan. People don’t really care about Africa, and it’s very, very unfortunate. It always seems to be up to us to continue the conversation. There should be more of us on the news and more of our story on the news, and it’s just not there.
Ultimately, I think even though it is depressing, it also instigates a spark inside us. We all connect to one another by talking about this stuff, [which] is why the album is called We Belong.
How do you think we might look back on this era of music as it relates to the current global struggles for liberation?
There’s a lot of things that are cyclical. We’re in a place now where we’re seeing a lot of our Black artists, [LGBTQIA+ artists, etc.] making it very clear through their art who they are and what their identity is. I also think that there is [a lot of music] that’s just not doing that.
There’s a Brittany Howard record where she talks about someone carving a swastika on her dad’s car and putting a goat head in the back seat. At the same time, there is a Taylor Swift record winning [album] of the year that’s all about her relationships with guys. An artist is going to get inspiration from your past relationships or from the trauma that you deal with for being a person of color or what have you. It all sits with each other really neatly these days, and I think that juxtaposition will be seen in 20/20 vision 10 years from now. Like there’s LCD Soundsystem, and then there’s Sault. Right next to each other. Boom.
I think it’ll be really great to look back at a person like Beyoncé and be like, At her most creative and powerful, she chose to be political. She could have written another “Single Ladies,” she could have revamped Destiny’s Child, but she didn’t. She chose to be political, and that’s really, really amazing that a person like that is doing something like that now.
Stout is a truly formidable presence on We Belong. How did your relationship with her steer records like “Another Day” and the album as a whole?
Stout is like a force of nature, it is criminal how underrated she is. She was introduced to me by my friend Alex – he books at The Blue Note and she plays [there] a bit — and I was looking for a female singer to sing lead on some songs. My mind was set on Brittany Howard. I know that she’s way out of my league, but her voice is just magical and I could hear her [crushing] these songs. Obviously, I didn’t have that kind of access, and [Alex] was like, You should check [Stout] out.
So, I hit her up and she’s like, Yeah, no problem, I’ll do it! and we booked her. I remember her coming into the studio, [and] it was one of those moments that you hear musicians talk about where your eyes light up and you’re like, This person is seriously incredible. “Another Day” is a perfect example because I just gave her the lyric sheet [and] my demo track, told her to do [her] thing, and she just nailed it. We were in the studio for a day and a half and [she did] 15 songs. It wasn’t just that [she was] able to do it so quickly, it’s the finesse and color and creativity.
“We Belong,” in particular, is a really interesting song because my singer, Ifedayo, was actually supposed to do the ad-lib at the end. She listened to [the song,] looked at me and said, This is the one. Let me go in real quick. She was about to leave and she did that thing in one take. She didn’t have any issue. She crushed every single bit, and there are weird melodies in some of those harmonies that would take people a long time to digest how to sing it. She had no issue.
I feel so grateful to have a person like her. We’re continuing to work with each other and she’s a part of a musical community that I can tap into for music now.
When I listen to We Belong, I pick up a very strong Afrofuturist bent. What’s your understanding of Afrofuturism?
Ishmael Reed’s Mumbo Jumbo is an amazing Afrofuturist work. I’m obsessed with Sun Ra, who is like the godfather of Afrofuturism. Janelle Monáe, Parliament, etc. I knew I wanted to bring all of these elements that I’ve come to understand is Afrofuturism in music — like synthesizers, electronic elements, etc. — and talk about these visceral, poetic things about African identity. I was following a tradition in Black music in that way. I am more aware of [Afrofuturism] now than I was before, but it was always there. It’s always been a part of who I’ve been.
“We Belong”
[We Belong] is my most fully realized musical project that I’ve ever made. My voice rings true in a way that it never has before. One of the key things about this album is [that] there’s resolve. Every record before this didn’t have any resolve; it was just questioning and experimenting, and you can hear it in my voice, the music, [and] the themes. It was just me traveling around aimlessly figuring it out. [On this record], I’ve I figured it out and [“We Belong”] is exactly that.
I’m a really big Parliament-Funkadelic fan, and I always aim to write my version of “One Nation Under a Groove” or “Wizard of Finance.” There’s this George Duke motif that I was playing in one of my music programs, and it reminded me a lot of Parliament [and] Brittany Howard and Alabama Shakes — my biggest influence ever, and my most modern influence.
Then, I started music school. Every week I’d bring in a different song or an artist that I was admiring and we would analyze and extract the science of the music. [My professor] would give me homework and [explain] what they’re doing in music theory terms. [“We Belong”] slowly started taking me to these different places that I never knew I’d get to. It starts in a very different place than it ends.
The one thing that’s really important about this is the song embodies everything that that this album is about: a love letter to Black music, Black people and Black culture. It took me into writing songs that Black artists traditionally write, especially when you’re influenced by the 70s, Parliament, Sly Stone, etc. Funnily enough, through Jorge Ben Jor’s “Errare Humanum Est,” [it] took me to Alexander Pope [and his] “An Essay On Criticism” poem, where he says, “To err is to be human, to forgive is to be divine.”
All of a sudden, everything in my life started to make sense. The intellectual side connected to the spiritual side and all of these influences. It all fits into this wonderful song.
“Come Together”
[This track] embodies a bridge between what Sinkane was and what it is now. If [people] went back to anything before, they would see the linear progression between the past and the present with the disco and funk and African syncopation in the song.
Yet again, it’s the theme about being a foreigner in a foreign land, a displaced person, a third-culture kid. It’s about a Black person living in the world anywhere other than Africa. We deal with issues all the time about our identity. But this album is about resolve. This song has a very strong resolve. [We sing,] “Don’t know where we come from,” and then it goes back to “Africa,” which is something that was really fun for me to explore.
“The Anthem”
It’s the last song of the album, [and] an absolute celebration of us, of Black people. As much as there is beauty in the struggle and our way of transmuting our pain into creating wonderful art, we also are very good at celebrating for the sake of celebration. For the sake of just loving the self, and there’s a tradition of that in Black culture and Black art. I wanted to add to that and make a very straight-up song that celebrates us [and] how much we love each other. Every generation might say this, but we need that right now after everything that we’ve gone through in the last 400 years, but specifically the last 10 years. It’s really important to say, Yes, I love myself, I love being black, I love what we have.
I remember sending [Amanda Khiri] a text and being like, “Send me a list of things that Black people have that make white people mad.” We started coming up [with things] like the way we walk, the way we talk, our fashion sense, etc. It became very inspiring to write a song with that prompt, and I found it to be a very cathartic song for us to listen to live. I [also] found it to be really interesting — because, although it is specific to Black people, it’s very magnetic to other people.
Sinkane’s New World: The Sudanese-American Musician Talks New ‘We Belong’ LP & Honoring the Black Musical Diaspora
Big Daddy Kane has seen his fair share of rap battles in his day, so naturally he had some thoughts on the main event currently happening between rap heavyweights Kendrick Lamar and Drake. The rap legend sat down with The Art of Dialogue podcast and was asked about the beef when he revealed the discourse has turned him off
“I was trying to keep up with the Kendrick and Drake thing but I kinda lost interest,” he shared. “It just wasn’t exciting to me — not because of them two, but because of the fanbase. The fanbase just made it to where, I’m good.”
“It’s not a competitive thing about who spit the better bars,” he elaborated. “It’s a thing about fact-checking to see if this person told the truth. It’s like, if the line is dope and he dissed you, it’s dope. It’s that simple. … Why are we trying to critique and decipher what was said? It’s just a dope rhyme. Enjoy the music for what it is. It’s a battle, they goin’ at each other.”
Kane added, “In my days of battling people, I’ve said stuff about people that isn’t true, but it was funny as hell. You laughed and enjoyed it. If that’s the way the younger generation looks at battles, hey, that’s their thing then. I hope they’re enjoying it. It just wasn’t for me, man. Like I said, it’s not about Kendrick or Drake; it’s the fanbase, the listeners and their comments and their views. They make it unenjoyable for me.”
He did admit to liking Kendrick’s effort a little more, but also said Drake was eventually “sayin’ some s–t” before the fact-checkers turned him off. “Everyone wanna fact check and [say], ‘Somebody wrote that for him’ and this, that, and … you know what? Y’all can have it, I’m good. I’ll go back and listen to Kool Moe Dee and Busy Bee, y’all can have this s–t.”
When asked who he’s more of a fan of between Kendrick and Drake, the man they call King Asiatic Nobody’s Equal actually said he’s more of a J. Cole fan, giving the Carolina rapper very high praise. “I’m more of a J. Cole fan. I think he is probably the greatest lyricist of this era. He’s my personal favorite, you know, of all them cats.”
However, while he was disappointed about Cole’s apology, he understood why he might’ve chosen to bow out because of the times we’re living in. “Where I’m from? I’m from I said what I said, so if I said it, I meant it, and that’s that.” He continued, “But today is a different day, man. You live in a world where people get canceled for some of the dumbest s–t, so I can’t be upset with him for saying, ‘I take it back,’ because the world is different. The world is super sensitive and super emotional now. People are built different today.”
Check out the whole clip above and stop fact-checking rap battles.
Big Daddy Kane Says Fans Ruined Rap Beef, Calls J. Cole ‘the Greatest Lyricist of This Era’
Saweetie is getting ready to own the hot weather season. The “Best Friend” rapper put fans on notice on Tuesday (May 14) that she is “gon’ fkkk up the Summer [three kiss emoji],” encouraging her fans to make sure they pre-save her new single, “NANi,” which is due out on Friday (May 17).
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The announcement came with a provocative image from the single’s cover, in which the MC poses with her right leg extended behind her — and a green hair dryer blowing her knee-length blonde-pink locks into the air — as she models a barely-there beaded bikini paired with matching high heels.
Last month, Saweetie posted a preview of the song on Insta, rapping a bit of the sing-songy chorus while strutting near a swimming pool and toting a tiny purse. “Ooh, got that nani, nani, nani/ How she walk through, swingin’ that body/ Yellin’, ’Who gon’ stop me?’/ You ain’t got the time to clock me,” she sings on the refrain that sounds like both provocative and taunting at the same time. “Ooh, got that nani, nani, nani/ Big, bag, I’ma fill it up with money/ Yellin’, ‘Who gon’ stop me?’/ You ain’t got the time to clock me.”
When Billboard caught up with Saweetie on the red carpet at the 2024 Gold Gala celebrating todays’ most impactful Asian Pacific changemakers earlier this week, she promised, “NANi is that girl. NANi is main character energy.” The new single is the follow-up to her recent song with P-Lo, “Do It For the Bay” and February’s “Richtivities.”
Check out the “NANi” single cover below.
Saweetie Preparing to Own the Summer, Announces ‘NANi’ Single Release Date
Members of the 1980s new wave band The Plimsouls have won a legal ruling against the group’s guitarist over the trademark rights to the band’s name – the music industry’s latest battle over the names of classic rock groups.
In a decision issued last week, a federal trademark tribunal sided with Peter Case and two other members of the Plimsouls – best known for their 1983 hit “A Million Miles Away” from the movie Valley Girl – in their fight with guitarist Eddie Munez.
The band had accused Munez of effectively going rogue, including performing under “The Plimsouls” with new musicians and seeking to secure his own trademarks to the name. They claimed fans “unwittingly bought tickets” to the shows because they thought it was the real band.
On Wednesday (May 18), the federal Trademark Trial and Appeal Board said it was “crystal clear” that the band collectively, and not Munez alone, owned the rights to “The Plimsouls” name – thanks in part to the fact that they were all continuing to receive royalties.
“[Munez] had and continues to have his cake (royalties from the band). But he cannot eat it too (exclusively own the band’s mark),” the board wrote. “The public associates the … THE PLIMSOULS with the group, not just its lead guitarist.”
The battle between the members of the Plimsouls is just the latest clash between bandmates over the legal rights to classic group names. Journey, Stone Temple Pilots and Jefferson Starship have all fought protracted litigation over their trademarks, as have members of the Rascals, the Ebonys, the Commodores and the Platters.
Such disputes often arise out of one question: Who truly constitutes the band? Is it the band members, or an LLC that owns the rights to the name? Is it the original lineup, or the one that produced the biggest hits? Does one key member and a bunch of replacements count? Fans, band members and lawyers will likely give you different answers.
In the case of the Plimsouls, the band argued that all four members had always been members of a partnership that equally split control of the band’s intellectual property, including the trademarks to the band’s name.
Munez argued back that the band had “abandoned” any such rights because his bandmates had failed to perform any live concerts under the name since 2007. But in its ruling last week, the trademark board rejected that argument.
“Petitioner has not abandoned its mark The Plimsouls because the band’s music has remained on sale … throughout the band’s 45-year existence,” the judge wrote. “The [trademark] has always identified their group, based on the group’s music, and live and filmed performances. This explains why consumers have complained to [the band] after mistaking [Munez]’s band for [The Plimsouls] and being disappointed as a result.”
Neither side immediately returned a request for comment on Wednesday.
Who Owns A Band Name? 1980s New Wave Rockers Win Latest Legal Clash Over Band Trademarks
Seth England caught up with Billboard’s Lyndsey Havens at Country Power Players 2024.
Seth England On Morgan Wallen & Post Malone Collaboration & More | Country Power Players 2024
While Asian artists have long been pioneers in modern music, a Billboard chart achievement can be career-defining, as both a reflection of individual commercial success and a symbol of further strides being made in global music. As the industry standard of measuring an artist’s mainstream influence, the Billboard charts have included superstars like BTS and BLACKPINK setting new standards for Asian artists in recent years — although the global rise of K-pop does not tell the full story of Asian music breaking through in North America. The first Hot 100 chart-topper by an Asian artist occurred decades earlier, and other artists made significant chart strides roughly a decade before K-pop fully boiled over into a mainstream phenomenon at the end of the 2010s.
Make no mistake: Asian artists still have an uphill battle when it comes to making noise on charts that dominantly feature songs and albums by Western musicians. Working to abide by music industry standards, transcend stereotypes and transmit genuine musical vision, the artists on this list broke down barriers in spite of setbacks and resistance. They’ve also caused waves of change by representing various Asian communities, including the AAPI community, showing the world all of the groundbreaking art (and big hits) that Asian performers can achieve.
In honor of AAPI Heritage Month in May, we’re highlighting 10 significant achievements by Asian artists in the history of the Billboard charts. Although this is hardly an exhaustive list featuring every notable chart achievement, these 10 stand out as momentous wins across sounds and styles. From CL’s solo debut to GOT7’s several World Albums W’s, these artists have helped pave the way for future generations of Asian and AAPI musicians.
10 Significant Achievements by Asian Artists in Billboard Chart History: From Kyu Sakamato to PSY to BLACKPINK
The full-length trailer for the upcoming Wicked films is finally here, featuring the first-ever look at Ariana Grande singing Glinda’s signature song, “Popular.”
The three-and-a-half-minute preview, which was released Wednesday (May 15), opens with the pop star’s voice asking, “Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?”
Grande’s bubbly rendition of “Popular” then plays over scenes of the “Yes, And?” singer — dressed in several different pink costumes — meeting Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba for the first time and swinging from a chandelier in their shared dormitory at Shiz University. The two characters then hold hands as they travel to the Emerald City together and meet Jeff Goldblum’s Wizard of Oz, during which the music in the trailer gradually shifts into Grande and the Harriet star’s voices harmonizing on “Defying Gravity.”
And yes, there’s also a shot of Glinda in her pink floating bubble, fully immersed as the Good Witch of the North as she greets the citizens of Oz.
The trailer comes about six months ahead of the first Wicked film’s Thanksgiving premiere, and follows a shorter teaser that aired for the first time during the 2024 Super Bowl broadcast in February. The second part of the Jon M. Chu-directed duology — which was based on Stephen Schwartz’s Broadway musical of the same name, which itself was inspired by Gregory Maguire’s novel — arrives in 2025.
Leading up to the trailer’s arrival, Universal Pictures released behind-the-scenes footage from the films’ 2023 shoot in the U.K., plus clips of Erivo and Grande reacting to the news that they had been cast as the project’s stars. “Oh my God, thank you!” the “We Can’t Be Friends” musician says through tears in the video. “I love [Glinda] so much, I’m gonna take such good care of her!”
Earlier this month, Erivo joined Grande for a surprise duet of “When You Believe” by Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston at the 2024 Met Gala. The Victorious alum also performed some of her older hits, as well as tracks from her Billboard 200-topping new album Eternal Sunshine.
Watch the new Wicked trailer featuring Grande singing “Popular” above.
Listen to Ariana Grande Sing ‘Popular’ & ‘Defying Gravity’ With Cynthia Erivo in New ‘Wicked’ Trailer
Nate Smith caught up with Billboard’s Lyndsey Havens at Country Power Players 2024.
Nate Smith Talks Securing Performance With Avril Lavigne & More | Country Power Players 2024
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