This article examines the historical and cultural significance of the attempted ban on the Beatles’ concerts in the US by the American Federation of Musicians and the Immigration and Naturalization Service of the United States government in 1964. While there has been much attention given to the court case against John Lennon waged by the INS and the Nixon Administration in the early 1970s, much less is known about the earlier case brought against the Beatles by the INS and the Department of Labor on behalf of the AFM, which became a national scandal in 1964, pitting fans of the Beatles against the AFM and the INS. Fans framed the controversy over the Beatles as a cultural conflict between generations, while the AFM framed the problem as a labour market issue. My examination of the incident reveals the way in which a submerged cultural problem embedded in a putatively economic discourse rose to the surface through conflicts over the discursive framing of the Beatles controversy. This case is important not only in terms of expanding our empirical knowledge of the internal history of the Beatles and rock and roll music, but also more generally as an episode that foreshadowed the cultural conflict between the American labour union bureaucracy and the counter-culture that emerged in the late 1960s. This essay analyses heretofore-unexamined documents from the US National Archives and Records Administration.

This article presents a close reading (or listening) of Amadou & Mariam's 2004 album, Dimanche à Bamako, meaning ‘Sunday in Bamako’, produced ‘by and with’ world music maverick Manu Chao. I consider how Dimanche à Bamako musically renders, through sound and lyrical expression, the tensions of ‘global modernity’ in postcolonial Africa and its diaspora. ‘Global modernity’ refers to the fraught encounter between local actors and the globalised socio-economic conditions in which modern subjects are increasingly embedded. By framing these local and global tensions in the context of a modern African city, Dimanche à Bamako offers a theoretically sophisticated representation of urban African social space that, while rooted in a particular place (Bamako, Mali) attends to the wider world in which a local sense of place gives way to the wanderlust and anxieties of living and labouring in a globalised world. Through critical application of Lefebvrian and Mande socio-spatial theory and focused analysis of several of the album's tracks, I argue that Dimanche à Bamako elucidates a dialectic of ‘civility’ and ‘wildness’ that shapes the way social space and subjectivity are conceived, lived, and perceived in urban African communities in an era of global modernity.

This article addresses the ideologies developed by Portuguese music journalists towards Portuguese music in the context of the global crisis in the record industry. Music journalists who were once seen as the good Samaritans in coverage of the national repertoire have to reconcile their duty to cover the national acts with the pressures of a global music industry represented by the multinational record companies. Gathering information from interviews conducted between 2001 and 2003, I trace the perceptions of music journalists on coverage of the national repertoire in a period in which a global crisis in the music sector became noticeable and low airplay of Portuguese music became a matter of concern for agents within the local industry. Two approaches emerge from such a context, one more proactive towards coverage of Portuguese music, the other less interested in allowing the influence of the origin filter to determine the journalists' agenda. I conclude that in these two approaches the traditional opposition between music journalists and the music industry needs to be revised.

While the notion of the ‘rock revolution’ of the 1960s has by now become commonplace, scholars have rarely addressed the racial implications of this purported revolution. This article examines a notorious 1968 blackface performance by Grace Slick, lead singer of Jefferson Airplane, to shed light on a significant tendency in 1960s rock: white musicians casting themselves as political revolutionaries by enacting an idealised vision of African American identity. Rock, a form dominated by white musicians and audiences but pervasively influenced by black music and style, conveyed deeply felt but inconsistent notions of black identity in which African Americans were simultaneously subjected to insensitive stereotypes and upheld as examples of moral authority and revolutionary authenticity. Jefferson Airplane's references to black culture and politics were multifaceted and involved both condescending or naïve radical posturing and sincere respect for African American music. The Airplane appear to have been engaged in a complex if imperfect attempt to create a contemporary musical form that reflected African American influences without asserting dominance over those influences. Their example suggests that closer attention to racial issues allows us to address the revolutionary ambitions of 1960s rock without romanticising or trivialising them.

Yothu Yindi stands as one of Australia's most celebrated popular bands, and in the early 1990s became renowned worldwide for its innovative blend of rock and indigenous performance traditions. The band's lead singer and composer, Mandawuy Yunupiŋu, was one of the first university-trained Yolŋu educators from remote Arnhem Land, and an influential exponent of bicultural education within local indigenous schools. This article draws on my comprehensive interview with Yunupiŋu for an opening keynote address to the Music and Social Justice Conference in Sydney on 28 September 2005. It offers new insights into the traditional values and local history of intercultural relations on the Gove Peninsula that shaped his outlook as a Yolŋu educator, and simultaneously informed his work through Yothu Yindi as an ambassador for indigenous cultural survival in Australia. It also demonstrates how Mandawuy's personal history and his call for a constitutional treaty with indigenous Australians are further grounded in the inter-generational struggle for justice over the mining of their hereditary lands. The article's ultimate goal is to identify traditional Yolŋu meanings in Yothu Yindi's repertoire, and in doing so, generate new understanding of Yunupiŋu's agency as a prominent intermediary of contemporary Yolŋu culture and intercultural politics.

African American gospel music seems without obvious parallel as a musical and social phenomenon of the twentieth century. It is a powerful musical and ‘spiritual’ expression that is to a larger extent defined by the musical style, vocal techniques and performance practices of one of its central figures: the gospel singer. Although these originally African American gospel vocal techniques and practices have now also significantly influenced the development of contemporary popular music and the broader gospel vocal style, the specific terminology used to describe them lacks precise definition, and also highlights the failure of conventional notation in successfully capturing or representing them.

This article seeks then to firstly define and annotate some of the key descriptive terms commonly applied to African American gospel singing techniques in order that greater consistency and clarity can be achieved in relation to their usage within contemporary popular music research. Secondly, it will also introduce an analytical notational system, accompanied by a series of annotated musical transcriptions, that forms the basis of the author's taxonomy of musical gesture for African American gospel music, and which may provide a framework for comparative analytical research within the field of gospel-inspired contemporary popular music.

When a band reforms after a period apart, they offer intertextual observations on their previous releases, and consequently on their generic positioning both in the present, and prior to splitting up. This paper considers how reformed bands deal with the weight and expectation that is caused by their initial, original existence before splitting up. I modify Harold Bloom's theory of poetic influence in order to theorise how a reformed band struggle with the weight of themselves as precursor, including not only analysis of the text itself, but the inter-textual discourses surrounding the work. I argue that Princess Alice and the Broken Arrow, a release by the melodic rock band Magnum, showcases the band's struggle to gain subcultural capital in their field, and look at the position-taking strategies they employ to deal with their anxiety of influence as the melodic rock field shifts position relative to the field of large-scale production.