The rituals of a bluegrass festival on Racoon Mountain in Tennessee.

The meaning of Selena, 20 years after her death.

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

His health failing and his business in tatters, the head of Death Row Records faces murder charges that could put him away for life.

On Taylor Swift’s passive-aggressive lyrics, the life of the writer, and the pain of middle school.

Scott Storch, a producer who earned six figures for beats he made in less than an hour, was worth an estimated $70 million. Then he blew it all in a bizarre cocaine binge.

Memories of her father and her time in Tennessee.

Linguistics and a Blink-182 song.

The comic failings of a Kickstarter project that promised a “Netflix for vinyl.”

An oral history with former employees Sasha Frere-Jones, Alysia Abbott, Piotr Orlov, and Chris Wilcha.

Alanis Morissette, before the making of Jagged Little Pill.

The ups and downs of a beloved British pop band.

A CD plant employee ushered in the modern era of music piracy by teaming up with a shadowy “Scene” crew on IRC chat.

He went from a viral pop hit to an arrest for conspiracy to murder charges in just under six months. Was Bobby Shmurda “too real” for his label?

A week at Coachella with the rapper and some mushrooms.

Life behind the Beatles curtain, with the man whose real name is actually Richard Starkey.

On his anxiety as a teenager, the treatment he was given for it, and the way that the psychiatry of the day failed his family.

On Azealia Banks.

Kurt Cobain’s suicide sent his fans – and the local media – into a tailspin.

The former Beastie Boy, 48, tries to figure out what’s next.

Mamoru Samuragochi’s story turned out to be too good to be true.

An ode to Juiceboxxx, a 27-year-old rapper from Milwaukee no one’s ever heard of.

“When constant revisionism and re-invention is under way, what does it profit a biographer to drag the weary ‘facts’ before us?”

The selfie may have ended any hope of resurrecting New York’s nightlife.

One day you’re teaching yourself to play the piano in hotel lobbies, the next you’re contributing a song to a David Lynch soundtrack.