#new-album

#new-album

R&B in the 21st century has been in a constant state of flux, tugged between safe traditionalism and blurry attempts at progression. For the last decade-plus that "progression" has seen R&B music become more indebted to trap records and the moody atmospherics of alternative bands like Radiohead, Coldplay, or My Bloody Valentine.

The only song here that really matters. Written just hours after the murder of Alex Pretti in Minneapolis and released a few days later, Springsteen names names (looking at you, Stephen Miller and Kristi Noem) and speaks bold, specific truth. With a title that recalls his own impactful Streets of Philadelphia, a melody reminiscent of Bob Dylan, and an urgency not felt since Neil Young's Ohio, it may not be groundbreaking musically, but Streets of Minneapolis is exactly what we need right now.

The new index will be released semi-annually, and will be derived from polling of nearly 60 independent artists, managers, and music lawyers. "The Index's goal is to increase transparency in a historically opaque market and share insights and perspectives, which we hope will empower music creators to make the best financial and catalog management decisions for themselves," Duetti CEO Lior Tibon says.

But to anyone tracking the data over the past few years, it was inevitable. In 2022, Bad Bunny's Un Verano Sin Ti redefined the market, driving Latin music's streaming growth to new heights. It later became the first Spanish-language album nominated for Grammy Album of the Year. The takeaway is simple: When you have accurate, real-time data, you don't guess where culture is going, you know.

The song reflects on two contrasting visions. In the first verse, he looks back on his childhood growing up female and compares it to living in a dream. Then, after a stirring bridge, he revisits the same reflective structure and ponders his childhood growing up as a boy: "When I was a little boy I wanted to be real/ I wanted to feel all of the things my body wanted me to feel," he sings.

Before the holiday, we were talking a lot about A.I. music. And then when I was listening to the new Bruno Mars song, all I could think about was A.I. It's called I Just Might. It is a rich and lustrous homage to the soul pop of the early 1970s. Obviously, you're thinking about the Jackson 5. It's gloss. It's note-perfect.

The Recording Academy just made a move that's splitting the music world down the middle. Their stance on AI-generated music promises to protect human creativity-but the guidelines? They've opened more questions than they've answered. The declaration sounds straightforward: only music with "significant human creative contribution" qualifies for Grammy consideration. Dig into the details, though, and you'll find a policy so riddled with ambiguity that artists, producers, and industry insiders are left guessing where the boundaries actually lie.

Destin Conrad dropped his second studio album, a jazz project titled wHIMSY. Both albums climbed the charts, and Conrad snagged a Grammy nomination for best progressive R&B album for Love on Digital his first as a solo artist. In an interview with All Things Considered, Conrad said he sometimes wondered if people wouldn't take him seriously as a musical artist because of his history on the former video-sharing app Vine, where Conrad shared quirky jokes and clips of himself singing samples