“Success for us will be determined by our ability to move faster than everyone else in this space.”

Steven Tyler, Julien Baker, Ben Harper, Jason Isbell, Joe Walsh, and other sober musicians on how to thrive creatively without drugs or booze.

The Maroon 5 singer discusses douchebaggery.

An interview with Stevie Wonder.

Three days on road with former chef and current rap eccentric Action Bronson.

On the Balkan musical genre Turbo-Folk, its ties to Serbian ultranationalism, and the strongman nightclub owner who brought it to Croatia.

On the road with three high school show choirs and a dream.

Spins from the DJs at Atlanta’s seminal Magic City strip club can turn nobodies into hip-hop stars.

In what will likely be his last political act, Willie Nelson declares war on corporate marijuana.

The article that kept the New Yorker alive was written by a debutante. Who happened to be married to Irving Berlin.

The “Shaggy Defense,” the “Little Man Defense,” and more—live from R. Kelly’s 2008 child pornography trial.

Three days in the creative wilderness with Francis Farewell Starlite, the reclusive muse to Kanye West, Bon Iver and Drake.

A trip to Kingston, Jamaica to track down Bunny Wailer, a reggae legend now living “in his own private Zion.”

On the American way of death, burial, and mourning, from war heroes to Elvis:

At the scene of his mother’s funeral, Elvis Presley — invincible sex symbol, cocksure performer, the man who changed the world and music forever — was reduced to a pathetic, blubbering mama’s boy. “Mama, I’d give up every dime I own and go back to digging ditches, just to have you back,” he told her body while it lay in repose the night before the funeral. At the service, according to biographer Peter Guralnick, "Elvis himself maintained his composure a little better until, towards the end, he burst into uncontrollable tears and, with the service completed, leaned over the casket, crying out, 'Good-bye darling, good-bye. I love you so much. You know how much I lived my whole life just for you.' Four friends half-dragged him into the limousine. 'Oh God,' he declared, 'everything I have is gone.'"

Inside North Dorcester’s RJam Productions studio, where Nate and Gary Smith churn out rap demos for $500/tape.

A decade later, on the then twenty-three-year-old Van Morrison’s 1968 album Astral Weeks.

On Abbey Road studios, the Beatles, and modern record production.

An interview with Solange.

Jered Threatin tried to fake his way to fame and got caught red-handed. Or did he?

When Spanish authorities sentenced this provocative musician to prison for “glorifying terrorism,” his dedicated fans helped him make a daring escape across the border.

Why did I ever believe a teen girl could hold all the power?

TM The only other time I saw you was in Bleecker Bob’s in the ‘70s. You walked in eating pizza and wearing aviator glasses and Bleecker Bob showed you an Ian Dury picture sleeve and you said, “I don’t listen to music by people I don’t wanna fuck.” PS (laughter) Yeah, that was me.

Two years after she sued producer Dr. Luke, saying he had drugged, raped, and emotionally abused her, Kesha is still bound to her original recording contract. She owes $100,000 (conservatively) per month on legal bills and can’t release any new music.