Carly Rae Jepsen came out of nowhere, seized radio, dug a hole in your head and planted a little song there named “Call Me Maybe.”
Carnal sex is the gateway to bittersweet romanticism on Miguel’s modern-lust-and-love odyssey, “Wildheart.” And the pompadoured R&B seducer’s third studio album is not beating around the bush.
The latest wave of gender-defying youth just got wavier with Shamir, a 20-year-old cutie-patootie from Vegas who’s tearing down rigid archetypes by way of gender ambiguity and a brazen “no fucks to give” attitude.
“Tori Amos who?” My dear friend, then boyfriend, must have been dumbfounded when I – a gay man – uttered these words that, in retrospect, are among the most naive of my life.
Grief guides Sufjan Stevens’ muse on “Carrie & Lowell.” It’s a remarkably wrenching release from the indie darling.
Raise your glass to girl-group power. It’s returning thanks to music-maven Simon Cowell, who understands the need to resurrect this abandoned, gay-celebrated American tradition, where female voices unite for the purposes of empowerment and man-sassing.
It’s true: We weren’t ready for this jelly. But Meghan Trainor plopped her booty down anyway and made a seat for herself with “All About That Bass,” 2014’s doo-wop polemic that had her preaching how all women are perfect “from the bottom to the top.”
If anyone epitomized a “moment in time,” it was Whitney Houston. At her peak, she unleashed her unmistakable, hit-making voice to seize each one, each song, like it was her last. And then sadly, in 2012 with an impromptu “Jesus Loves Me,” one last song did come, as her storied decline led to her shocking […]
Maybe you’ve heard: Taylor Swift has a new album, her fifth, and it’s really good. It’s actually the closest thing to a perfect pop release this year (that’s right: Nashville’s darling has gone full-on ’90s bubblegum), which basically means that, if you’re still resisting the T. Swizzle, it’s time you work on that.