The British amateur fretted instrument orchestra was a product of the late Victorian and Edwardian banjo and mandolin ‘crazes’. Lacking deep community roots, early organisations were numerous but mainly short-lived. However, reconstituted as more broadly based clubs, they enjoyed a substantial revival from the later 1920s and played a major role in the preservation of fretted instrumental culture at a time when it was losing purchase in wider popular musical life. Clubs and orchestras provided a significant outlet for the musical talents of lower-middle and working-class amateur musicians and, although always ultimately male-dominated, gave greater opportunity to women than was the norm within amateur instrumental music-making. The charitable concerts that featured so strongly in their work provided an impressive record of public service. However, their instrumentation and middle-of-the-road repertoire rendered them increasingly unfashionable in the changed popular musical climate of the 1950s and entirely marginal by the end of the 1960s.

In Britain, the Select Committee of the government department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport has investigated the economics of streaming and recommended that the share of revenues for record companies should decrease so that songwriters can earn more. This article addresses lobbying activity that has resulted from this recommendation. To support their causes, songwriter representatives and record company organisations have made incorrect or misleading use of data from the report Music Creators’ Earnings in the Digital Age. This article looks at the impact of these uses and provides corrections and alternatives to the statistics that have been employed. It also looks at the importance of the issues that have been raised. In conclusion, it addresses aspects of record company accounting that will need to be considered if an increase for songwriters is to be made at their expense.

In order to reveal normative prototypes undergirding various formal sections, this article introduces the ‘Anchoring vi Schema’: a medium length major-mode passage (typically eight or 16 bars) that initiates on an unambiguous hypermetric downbeat (for example, the beginning of a verse or chorus). The Anchoring vi Schema must begin with tonic harmony and deploy submediant harmony at its midpoint – the second most hypermetrically strong beat. The identification of the Anchoring vi Schema enables closer readings of phrase expansion and deletion in popular music. A comparison of the common harmonies used in eight- and 16-measure passages reveals some striking similarities, particularly in terms of where tonic and subdominant chords are likely to occur. Although the endings of formal sections can take a variety of paths – including arriving at various tonal goals within a range of possible times – hypermetrically accented beginnings and midpoints show greater consistency in their organisation.

Based on 21 months of ethnographic fieldwork in Cairo with musicians who perform a musical style known as shaʿbi, this article unravels the complex role that the state-affiliated Musicians’ Syndicate plays in musicians’ working lives in order to investigate the contradictions of state control over music in Egypt. Focusing on moments of encounter between musicians and Syndicate officials, I consider why my interlocutors’ time was split between evading the Syndicate and its restrictions, and embracing the Syndicate by calling for it to implement harsher interventions. Doing so not only sheds light on the reality of cultural production in an authoritarian state, but also prompts a broader reconsideration of scholarly approaches to popular music censorship, requiring us to move beyond dichotomies of ‘state vs. society,’ ‘censors vs. censored,’ and ‘resistors vs. oppressors’ that have tended to dominate scholarship on music censorship.

This article examines the critical reception of Feist's 2017 album Pleasure, and interpretations by reviewers of the mysterious hiss that permeates most of the album's tracks. I firstly contextualise Pleasure in relation to the aesthetics of record production. I then examine interviews with Feist and her collaborators to identify the source of the hiss, and explain its presence on Pleasure. Lastly, I examine a corpus of 20 reviews, showcasing how critics (mis)identified and (mis)interpreted the sound, as well as the effect of this on their overall understanding of the album. To explain the relationship between the hiss and accompanying music, I assume a semiotic perspective. Following Poyatos, I regard these two kinds of sound as part of distinct yet related cosystems of signs, loosely analogous to the relationship between verbal utterances and nonverbal behaviours in face-to-face communication. Through this lens, I analyse how Pleasure's hiss was heard to modify, support, emphasise and undermine the meaning of the music by reviewers.