This article explores the German band Corvus Corax and their reinterpretion of the Middle Ages as a creative answer to Germany's problematic history of nationalism. Invoking the community ideals and ideological values of the 1960s and 1970s, which, in the context of the GDR took on even more significance, Corvus Corax borrowed ‘authentic’ medieval texts and melodies, rendering them in acoustic arrangements inspired by medieval performance practices. In short, German ‘folk’ bands invented ‘medieval’ rock to sidestep Nazi connotations with the word ‘folk’. Besides invoking the semantic shift from ‘folk’ to ‘medieval’, I argue that the band adopts the figure of the medieval minstrel and asserts that his multilingual texts, ‘foreign’ instruments and colourful performance practices speak to an inclusive, diverse and cosmopolitan community. Paradoxically, they do so by first positioning the medieval minstrel as a punked-up, marginalised ‘outcast’. The cultural capital of this outcast status helps medieval rock bands like Corvus Corax carve out a space for marginalised voices who, in their new privileged positions, offer a form of retribution for politics of exclusion, racism and authoritarianism.

This essay tracks a predominant fantasy of music in global liberal-capitalist culture: music as ‘the only real magic’. Although discussion of music's ‘magic’ has been characterized as a vestige of Romanticism, I argue that it became a cornerstone of ordinary/everyday music discourse circa 1900, around the time that sociologists defined modernity as mostly bereft of magic and configured the aesthetic as its remaining stronghold. Juxtaposing claims of magic in ordinary music discourse with a coeval archive of these ‘disenchantment’ narratives, I trace music's institutionalization as magic in the historical moment from around 1900 to the present. This history reveals that music remains commonly experienced as ‘the only real magic’ insofar as it offers deeply ameliorative forms of affective connection felt to be scarce in other domains. Accordingly, it indicates the immense healing power that music has accrued particularly over the last century while also adumbrating the conditions of scarcity from which this potency has emerged.

Analyses of music and environment are proliferating, yet new conceptions are needed to make sense of growing ecological crisis in the Anthropocene. From an empirical project tracing guitars all the way back to the tree, I argue for deeper conceptual and empirical integration of music into the material and visceral processes that constitute ecological crisis itself. Musicians are not only inspired by environmental concerns for compositional or activist purposes. They are entangled in environmental crisis through material and embodied relations with ecosystems, especially via the musical instruments we depend upon. I foreground three ‘more-than-musical’ themes to make sense of unfurling forces: materiality, corporeality and volatility. Musical instruments are gateway objects that invite contemplation of material and corporal relations. Such relations bind together musicians and non-human others. Material and corporeal relations with increasingly threatened upstream forests, and endangered tree species, are being confronted and reconfigured. In the context of ecological crisis, guitars do much more than make pleasing acoustic sounds. Via guitars we co-generate, with non-human others, a sound track of crisis both melancholy and hopeful.

This article examines the politics of race, religion and nation in relation to blackface minstrelsy during the first decades of the twentieth century. Having been superseded by more modern amusements, minstrelsy was outdated as a performance genre, yet the minstrel show served as a forum for Neil O'Brien and the Knights of Columbus fraternal society to participate in the invention of a white American Catholic identity. For fraternal society members, estranged from national belonging by religious difference, these performances situated the group as proponents of an old-fashioned American tradition, structured around anti-blackness. At a time of anti-Catholic sentiment, Catholic fraternal society members gathered for minstrel performances, distancing themselves from black people and marking themselves as white Americans.

Having first raised questions of musical evaluation, and introduced my analytical approach, I proceed to an empirical, in the sense of more-or-less objective, analysis of the metric and melodic aspects of the songs on those five LPs that constitute Joni Mitchell's early style: Song to a Seagull (1968), Clouds (1969), Ladies of the Canyon (1970), Blue (1971) and For the Roses (1972). The results of this style analysis are then summarised. Next I proceed to a more phenomenologically inclined examination of ethereal, since evanescent or ‘ghostly’, ‘haunting’ characteristics of musical fluidity and expansion in Mitchell's music. Such passages of ‘stretched’ musical time arise from several properties: regulated yet ambiguous metric irregularity, swinging around the beat and melodic flow. The essay concludes with close examinations of the longest and most fluid musical properties of ‘Willy’ (Ladies of the Canyon) and ‘Case of You’ (Blue).

Authenticity is a key concept in the evaluation of rock music by critics and fans. The production of fakes challenges the means by which listeners evaluate the authentic, by questioning central notions of integrity and sincerity. This article examines the nature and motives of faking in recorded music, such as inventing imaginary groups or passing off studio recordings as live performances. In addition to a survey of types of fakes and the motives of those responsible for them, the article presents two case studies, one of the ‘fake’ American group the Residents, the other of the Unknown Deutschland series of releases, purporting to be hitherto unknown recordings of German rock groups from the 1970s. By examining the critical reception of these cases and taking into account ethical and aesthetic considerations, the article argues that the relationship between the authentic (the ‘real’) and the inauthentic (the ‘fake’) is complex. It concludes that, to judge from fans’ responses at least, the fake can be judged as possessing cultural value and may even be considered as authentic.

Sampling has been criticised as ‘a mixture of time-travel and seance’, ‘the musical art of ghost co-ordination and ghost arrangement’, and a process that ‘doubles (recording's) inherent supernaturalism’ (Reynolds, S., 2012, Retromania: Pop Culture's Addiction to its Own Past, London, Faber and Faber, pp. 313–14). Yet out of all the sample-based music forms, hip-hop receives the lion's share of attention in popular music literature; critics are puzzled by its appeal, scholars identify a plethora of problems in its function, and practitioners and audiences alike are mesmerised by its effect. Rap producers attribute an inherent ‘magic’ to working with past phonographic samples and fans appear spellbound by the resulting ‘supernatural’ collage. The author examines the music's unique recipe of phonographic juxtaposition, exploring the conditions of this ascribed ‘magic’, investigating gaps in perception between emotional and intellectual effect and deciphering parallels in the practice and vocabulary mobilised against a range of genres in performance magic.

This inquiry deals with the changing role of the technology and the use of phonographs and gramophones during the first half of the 20th century. Rather than looking at the UK or USA, which much previous research has done, the focus is on peripheral Sweden. More specifically the question is how phonography turned from being a scientific curiosity into becoming an everyday media technology, and how it thereby influenced culture and everyday musical communication. The findings show two distinct approaches to recorded music, which intermingle in today's unprecedented musicalisation of culture and everyday life around the globe – approaches respectively described as utilitarian and solipsistic.

MCs (rappers) such as Cardi B, Kendrick Lamar, Drake, Big Sean and Young Thug use triplet rhythms in their rapping, a practice that is known as triplet flow. This paper argues that the prevalence of triplet flow is one of the most aurally salient features of contemporary hip hop, and exemplifies the popularity and influence of the Atlanta-centred genre of trap music through its sparse, slow beats. Three types of triplet flow are defined – mixed, phrasal and total – and are used to explore how various songs and artists active in the late 1980s and early 1990s provided the stylistic blueprint for triplet flow's recent explosion in popularity. With the aid of a 50 song mini-corpus, the paper concludes with a general survey of stylistic characteristics common in many songs featuring triplet flow, and further analysis of two of these songs in order to illuminate the creative, rhetorical and virtuosic potential that underpins this ostensibly simple style of rapping.

With a return to authoritarian rule only a few years after the initially successful 2011 revolution, some Egyptian DIY musicians have made it a point to avoid the political. These musicians consider the ordinary politics of discursive critique and public protest to be ineffective and have opted to continue the revolution by appealing to the ineffable properties of listening as a less ideologically driven way to produce social change. This article explores how and why the sonic ineffable is believed to be a more utopian form of politics. It argues that mobilizing ‘magic’ is a particularly positioned solution to political failure that obscures the relations of power it perpetuates. Building from 30 months of ethnographic research conducted in Egypt among DIY musicians between 2010 and 2017, it avoids a romanticisation of the ineffable, showing instead how utilising the ambiguity between the conscious and subconscious aspects of sonic experience is a political tool not removed from power.

The article begins with a short history of German gangsta rap, followed by an overview of central theories and key concepts in hip-hop studies. It then focuses on a case study of a German gangsta rapper called Kollegah, who became one of Germany's most commercially successful artists of the past few years. The case study is divided into three parts: the first involves a deconstruction of both his artistic persona and his strategies of appropriating hip-hop cultures. This is followed by a closer look at two Kollegah productions, focusing on his rhyming and signifying skills. By adding a cursory qualitative media analysis of both Internet fan forums and print and television artefacts about Kollegah, very contradictory reactions can be depicted. The article is finally able to illustrate that this artist makes great use of a (typically German?) flavour of virtuosity and that he can draw from a very unique set of capital. Kollegah is viewed as representing a successful strategy of cultural appropriation and the use of different types of capital within the network of music business in its post-digital era.

This article discusses the role of music performance in football matches, highlighting the importance of the belief in its sonic powers as a trigger for causal relations between events. Music functions as a communicational axis linking the physical realm to mystical or intangible dimensions. By performing music and sounds on terraces, fans believe that they can change the course of the match, interfering in the mood, the bodies and, eventually, the result. Magic is a shared belief among fans, players and journalists, one that is activated through sounds and rituals. In football, the idea of magic is often perceived and referred to as a causal explanation for achievements and defeats that could hardly be understood or explained through rational and scientific knowledge. Music is a key feature in this process.

This article re-examines the use of arguments in favour of free speech when faced with difficult subjects in music, such as sexual violence against women. We present a new perspective on the 1985 US Senate Hearing on Record Labeling and challenge the orthodoxy that the Hearing was only a matter of free speech. Using critical discourse analysis we argue that the sexist environment of the Hearing, the misogyny of the musicians, plus homosocial bonding resulted in the PMRC's arguments being unaddressed as attention turned to censorship. Subsequent academic work has continued to focus on censorship, neglecting to investigate how music can propagate dangerous representations. This article indicates the need for a shift in popular music studies towards careful consideration of those aspects which are difficult and dangerous for women. It therefore opens up popular music to important new areas for critical examination and feminist analysis.

This article presents a case study of ecocritical black metal, delving into the apocalypticism of the California-based black metal band Botanist, who conjures a world in which plants have violently destroyed human civilisation. It first contextualises Botanist amidst the broader current of environmentalism in extreme metal as well as within wider cultural explorations of plants as subjective beings capable of violence. The article then examines how Botanist taps into the logic of apocalyptic environmentalism, as the music presents the essential narrative of apocalyptic bioterrorism: humanity, with wanton hubris, has sown the seeds of its own destruction, and earned whatever horrors befall it on the way to elimination. With its bleak outlook and strident sound world, Botanist's music threatens to destabilise listeners’ assumptions about their place in the world and offers an example of what apocalyptic ecological urgency in music could sound like.

Magic and mystery shroud Florence + the Machine's and Bat for Lashes's performances and interviews, which frequently frame the two groups’ frontwomen, Florence Welch and Natasha Khan, as ‘witchy’ or magical, or spur comparisons to Pagan aesthetics. This article investigates the unique ways the two bands use Pagan influences to speak to mainstream and Pagan audiences. Ultimately, the two groups set themselves apart from other bands through marketing that fuses commercialism with an esoteric religion. Florence + the Machine and Bat for Lashes create a ‘Pagan chic’ that draws in listeners through videos, instrumentation often featuring harp and tom-tom drums, fantasy-oriented lyrics, and stage props which use a Pagan lens to respond to current political events reminiscent of the counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s.

This article discusses the findings of an Arts and Humanities Research Council project researching how music festival communities in Scotland can address issues of environmental sustainability and climate change. It investigates how music festival communities are constructed with a focus on what role, if any, they might play in responding to the global challenge of environmental sustainability. Using music festivals in Scotland as a case study, we employed a variety of research methods to interrogate different constituents in music festival communities about their views and behaviours regarding climate change and environmental sustainability. These included festival audiences via onsite questionnaires; festival organisers and promoters via interviews and focus groups; and musicians via creative practice-led research. We conclude that rather than necessarily being a site for progressive or utopian socio-cultural experimentation (as they are occasionally portrayed in festival literature), music festival communities engage in complex and often contradictory behaviours when it comes to responding to – and making sense of – their own complicity in social challenges such as climate change.

The study of the recorded artefact from a musicological perspective continues to unfold through contemporary research. Whilst an understanding of the scientific elements of recorded sound is well documented, the exploration of the production and the artistic nature of this endeavour is still developing. This article explores phenomenological aspects of producing heavy metal music from the perspective of seven renowned producers working within the genre. Through a series of interviews and subsequent in-depth analysis, particular sonic qualities are identified as key within the production of this work: impact; energy; precision; and extremity. A conceptual framework is then put forward for understanding the production methodology of recorded heavy metal music, and how developing technology has influenced the production of the genre.

Taking inspiration from a press article comparing doom metal and New Age music, I explore individualism and magic in these musical cultures, reflecting on the ‘dirty, soothing secret’ suggested in that article's title. I trace the loosely defined characteristics of New Age music in the limited academic research on the topic, before situating the music in the wider New Age milieu which centres around the epistemological authority of the seeking self among diverse spiritual resources. Then, I examine the claims made about metal in the news article, drawing out themes which also relate to individualism and magic. Finally, I return to the concepts of the dirty, the soothing and the secret, arguing that these are not merely incidental aspects of the mainstream reception of New Age and metal music, but in fact can be understood as contributing to the magical potential of such music for listeners.