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.

In 2003, Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks denounced President George W. Bush from a concert stage in London, England leading to serious career consequences for the country music trio. In response to three years of public criticism and radio boycotts, the Dixie Chicks released their single ‘Not Ready to Make Nice’, with an accompanying video critiquing the oppressive institutional power that sought to silence them. Through an analysis of music, text and images in this song, this paper explores how the Dixie Chicks responded to the backlash and regained their voice in the music industry. The paper offers a critical summary of the political incident, an interpretation of the images of symbolic containment and resistance that are prevalent in the video, and an interpretation of the musical elements in relation to the lyrics and images. Through the intersection of lyrics, music and images the Dixie Chicks create a platform of resistance to the social and institutional oppression they experienced.

When a stereophonic track is heard through headphones or over loudspeakers, the image of a virtual performance is created in the mind. This virtual performance, which exists exclusively on the record, can be conceptualised in terms of the ‘sound-box’ (Moore 1993), a four-dimensional virtual space within which sounds can be located through: lateral placement within the stereo field; foreground and background placement due to volume and distortion; height according to sound vibration frequency; and time. From the mid-1960s, the increasing shift from mono to stereo meant that producers and engineers had to contend with the notion and potential of a song's sonic arrangement or mix, resulting in a disparity of sonic placement and a diverse range of sound-box configurations. By 1972, a normative positioning of sound sources within the sound-box was established, which we term the ‘diagonal mix’. This article focuses on the consolidation of this norm by means of a ‘taxonomy of mixes’ and the utilisation of visual representations which detail the sound-box configurations of a variety of pop/rock, easy listening and psychedelic tracks from 1966 to 1972.

The recorded format is the medium through which popular music is diffused. Since the advent of multi-track recording, the studio has become a compositional tool in which musical ideas are formed into sounding matter. Direct access to the manipulation of sound layers and the possibility of mixing different sources and moving them in the stereo window become not only technical options but musical and compositional properties. In fact, the organization of the recording space reflects more and more the structural organization of the music itself; the sound of the record is a sort of sonicprint (sounding fingerprint) of the music of an artist in a particular period. This paper develops the idea of sonic space, a multi-dimensional representation of the recording space in which spatial, morphological and spectral spaces interact in order to form the structure on which the sounding matter of the piece is developed. Through the analysis of the properties of each space and their relationships, it is possible to point out normative behaviours, well defined associations between more musical aspects like motives, harmony, melodies and their organization in the sounding structure.

In critical writing on the music of Dave Brubeck, little attention has been paid to the use of polyrhythm, despite the fact that this has been central to Brubeck's approach to jazz since the late 1940s. Focusing on work recorded by the ‘classic’ Dave Brubeck Quartet, the article aims to re-evaluate Brubeck's use of polyrhythm by situating it within a cultural history of modernity, rather than the established discourses of jazz musicology. The article revisits the early 1960s to reconstruct the context provided for the music not only by articles printed in the music press, but also by news stories and features run in the popular press, and by the visual signifiers that coalesce around Brubeck. Articulated through the key tropes of modernity and difference, the press's construction of Brubeck during this period signals the broad cultural context of Modernism as an alternative frame within which his musical practice might be usefully situated. The article explores how two key cultural artefacts emerging from this context – Brubeck's Oakland home, and the Miró canvas featured on the cover of the album Time Further Out – might serve to provide a productive means by which to re-evaluate the radical potential of Brubeck's polyrhythm.

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 paper argues that the Internet strategy created and used by Berlin musicians, Einstürzende Neubauten, emulates many aspects of Attali's (2006) hopes for the future of music – in particular, the creation of new social relations through a participatory listening and, in Chris Cutler's words (2008), to be ‘research as well as entertainment’. I set out to show that Neubauten's use of the world wide web made their Supporter Initiative a radical innovation. My evidence is that their Subskribentenmodell provided access during 2002–2007 to web-streamed ‘open studio’ rehearsals which facilitated a new relationship between artist and recipient in its declaration of fallibility and attention to feedback. Secondly, I argue that Neubauten's international network of 2,000 Unterstützers (not Anhängers) became a virtual and actual ‘extended family’ who created the cottage industry ethos necessary for successful independence. This family not only supported the band financially and contributed to artistic and practical decisions – as with the DIY Berlin concert Grundstück – but also provided grass roots knowledge and skill for independent dissemination and touring (in 2008) of Alles Wieder Offen. Finally, this anti-record company model now offered a paradigm to ‘infect’ other fringe artists and hence upheld Beuysian/Cageian social aims of art.

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.

In this article I emphasise the deliberate and reflexive way that Bob Dylan has approached studio recording, sketching the features of a phonographic aesthetic, to highlight a neglected aspect of Dylan's creative practice and to counter the view of Dylan as primarily a ‘performing artist’, one who approaches the studio in a casual manner as a place to cut relatively spontaneous drafts of songs that are later developed on stage. Drawing on Evan Eisenberg's discussion of the ‘art of phonography’ and the way recording radically separates a performance from its contexts of ‘origin’ (allowing recordings to be taken into a private space and subjected to intense, repeated listening), I argue that studio practice, a recording aesthetic and the art of phonography are integral to Dylan's songwriting. The process and practice of songwriting is realised through the act of recording and informed by listening to songs and performances from recordings, regardless of how much time is actually spent in the studio. Exploring how Dylan's phonographic imagination has been shaped by folk, blues and pop sonorities, along with film music, I argue that recording should be integrated into discussions of Dylan's art, alongside the attention devoted to lyrics, performance and biography.

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.

In light of the growing literature on DJ culture, this article explores how technological change is having a significant impact on specific areas of music production and distribution within contemporary electronic dance music culture. An ethnographic methodology is employed, based around research conducted in the Sydney dance music scene between 2002 and 2007. The aim of the article is to reveal some of the discourses and reactions in DJ practice that result from shifts in technology. With the increasing use of CDs, mp3s and computer programs such as Ableton Live, the notion that vinyl and turntables represent the authentic technology of DJ culture seems somewhat redundant. The physical movement required to mix vinyl records has meant that the associated skills of DJing have become bound up in notions of physical and visible manipulation of technology, and so the use of technology that does not require and afford such physical expression has raised questions around the fundamental skills of DJing. As such, it would seem that there needs to be a redefinition of the concept of DJing, and a reframing of the skills and abilities seen as being essential to DJ practice.

This essay reviews alternate mixes and edited versions produced for numerous purposes over the past half-century for stock singles, promotional singles, albums and reissues of all sorts, all evidencing a form of literary intertextuality of uniquely central importance to the record industry that has not previously been covered systematically. These multiple texts resulting from different manipulations of a single tape source exhibit what is termed intratextuality, leading to variations in composition, arranging and engineering. In addition, much of the essay's discussion will document for scholars as well as for fans a number of recordings whose continuing availability has been jeopardized by never having been reissued in CD format.

This article will discuss how two major contributing factors, functional staging and perceived authenticity, have had and continue to have a powerful influence on the sound of record production across geographical boundaries and throughout history. Functional staging is a concept building on the idea of phonographic staging developed by William Moylan and Serge Lacasse and related to Allan Moore's ‘sound-box’. The staging of sounds in the record production process is considered to be functional if the reason for their particular placement or treatment is related to the practicalities of audience reception rather than to aesthetics. It is not a question of whether the music has a function or not but whether that function has influenced the staging of the recorded music. Thus the divergence of staging techniques used in dance music and rock music that began in the 1970s can be seen as resulting from the different functions the music was put to by the different audiences. Music that is played back through large speakers in a club for the purpose of dancing needs to maintain the clarity of the rhythmic elements and so the ‘drier’ techniques of drum and percussive instrument mixing that characterise dance music developed. Rock, however, was more frequently played back in the smaller, less ambient, home environment and so reverberation was added to simulate the atmosphere of the large-scale venue. At the same time, a variety of culturally constructed notions of authenticity have developed within different musical audiences. Why is it that Queen felt the need to inscribe ‘no synthesisers were used in the making of this album’ on their early records and yet Brian May felt entirely comfortable constructing multiple layered performance ‘patchworks’ of guitar tracks? Why might the use of one type of technological mediation be considered more or less authentic than another? Using examples taken from recordings from all around the world and from ‘art’ and ‘popular’ forms of music, this article will explore how audience-led cultural trends in recording and production practice have resulted in the particular ‘sounds’ of different recorded music genres.

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.

There has been a marked resurgence of interest in progressive rock music both commercially and critically, with a number of articles and books now reassessing its styles, meanings, politics and appeal. Despite this, there has been a tendency to define progressive rock through a ‘symphonic orthodoxy’ which preferences a limited, albeit highly successful, number of British groups operating in a relatively narrow sonic landscape. This article questions that orthodoxy by drawing on the lay definitions and understandings of fans to extend the definitions and geographies of progressive rock, and to characterise it as a European meta-genre. It examines the meta-genre's formative years at the beginning of the 1970s, and argues that progressive rock was inspired by the explorations of a European youth counterculture whose music was influenced by local socio-political and economic contexts, as well as by the music and attitudes of the American counterculture and of European Romanticism.

The art of crafting successful pop singles can be a hit and miss affair, and this essay addresses the notion of hits and misses through a consideration of ‘(They Long to Be) Close to You’ by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. In September 1963, Bacharach produced the first version of the song with Richard Chamberlain, but the recording was, and still is, considered an artistic failure, as was the version Bacharach produced with Dionne Warwick a year later. It was not until Richard and Karen Carpenter recorded the song in 1970, without input from Bacharach, that the full potential of ‘Close to You’ was realised. But what made the two Bacharach versions miss the mark, while the Carpenters, to use Bacharach's words, ‘nailed it’? If one identifies the elements of a recording's sonic surface that contribute to its success, the deficiencies of Bacharach's misses become as readily apparent as the strategies The Carpenters employed to score a hit. Specifically, this essay considers how groove, instrumentation, melodic style, tempo, manner of performance (both vocal and instrumental), and the disposition of the song's sections (verses and bridge) generate an expressive flow that either enhances (The Carpenters) or diminishes (Bacharach) the emotional impact of the story told in the lyrics.

This essay challenges the received wisdom that teenpix of the 1950s were dominated by a soundtrack of rock 'n' roll. I argue that this cycle of film production was marked by a diversity of musical genres, styles and types. Not only rock 'n' roll, but rhythm 'n' blues, folk, rockabilly, swing, West Coast jazz, bebop, Latin music such as the mambo, the rhumba, the cha cha chá, and Caribbean calypsos were all heavily featured in these films. This study is carried out through a focus on the temporal arrangements – fads, cycles, trends – that govern serial production and consumption of movies and popular music. Following Philip Ennis' thesis that rock 'n' roll is best defined by its ability to ‘crossover’ musical boundaries – to move, for example, across the pop, country, and rhythm 'n' blues charts – I argue that the film industry chose not to overly limit the music it had on offer and instead provided a varied package, some of which, it expected, would crossover and appeal to diverse and capricious teenage tastes.

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.

Indie pop, like rock and other independent genres more generally, has had a complicated relationship with mass culture. It both depends upon and simultaneously deconstructs notions of authenticity and truth. Independent genres have invited scholarly analysis and critique that often seek to unmask indie as ‘elite’ or to show the extent to which indie musics are, ironically, defined and shaped by consumer capitalism. Using songwriter Stephin Merritt's music and career as a case study, this essay explores the kinds of authenticities at work in indie pop. Indie pop, I argue, is a genre especially adept at generating ‘personal authenticity’. It is useful to turn to the concept of kitsch, understood here as an aesthetic and not a synonym for ‘bad’. Kitsch functions to cultivate personal attachment in the face of impersonal mass culture; it is this aesthetic, I argue, that indie pop has cultivated through its lo-fi and often nostalgic sound world and through its dissemination, which has relied upon dedicated collectors. The ‘honesty’ of this music does not arise from an illusion of unmediated communication, but instead from the emphasis on the process of mediation, which stresses the materiality of the music and the actual experience of listening.