After the release of her 2019 debut album Immunity, Claire Cottrill could have capitalized on her music’s virality with another slew of made-for-TikTok bedroom-pop hits in the vein of the LP’s breakout songs, “Bags” and “Sofia.” But on her Laurel Canyon-esque 2021 follow-up Sling, the singer-songwriter opted for a far less commercial route. Amid the pandemic, she retreated to her family’s home in Atlanta where she traded her earlier musings about crushes and awkward growing pains for tales of domesticity and a newfound sense of confidence toward romance. The softer, spacious album, co-produced by Jack Antonoff with backing vocals from Lorde, toyed with psychedelia and retro folk-pop channeling the warmth of songwriters like Joan Baez and Carole King. But those who thought Sling might be a pit-stop or a one-off departure for Cottrill were wrong.
On her third album Charm, Clairo elevates the aesthetic she introduced on Sling and forges deeper into a lush palette of Seventies melodies. Now 25, she is playfully blurring the lines of pop, R&B, soul and folk with the sounds of the Wurlitzer, mellotron, organ and piano swirling around her. This palpable shift of self-assuredness is due in part to her own coming of age, but also a consequence of her tapping soul and funk savant Leon Michels (Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings, Menahan Street Band) as co-producer.
While her hushed vocals have always established a sense of closeness within her work, the Clairo of Charm exists as a much more intimate foray. “Second Nature” is a steamy, ever-evolving earworm that oscillates from horn-flanked adult contemporary to anxious keys. “It’s when you’re close enough to touch/I’ve forgotten the point/My train of thought destroyed,” she croons with a dreamy lilt. Teeming with yearning and desire, the flute-flanked “Sexy to Someone” is the epitome of a horny indie-folk anthem. The warm R&B groove of “Juna” allows Clairo to let go of her inhibitions amid a blossoming romance: “You make me wanna/Go buy a new dress/You make me wanna/Slip off a new dress.” Flanked by twinkling piano, her airy vocals float on “Slow Dance” as she navigates the nuances of a situationship. “What is it? That’s keeping one foot out/And the other crawling in bed,” she wonders.
There are also undeniable moments where Clairo builds on the pastoral nature of Sling. There’s the crystalline “Glory of the Snow,” the album’s opener “Nomad,” where her velvety vocals float over a wistful steel pedal and the crushing cymbals of the spacey psych-folk “Echo,” which evokes The Doors. But it’s Charm’s delicate closer, “Pier 4,” that serves as the record’s gut-punch, wrapping up the 11-track album like a cozy knit sweater. The hymn-like number sees Clairo grappling with her public-facing persona and the comfort of an introverted life. “What’s the cost of being loved?/When close is not close enough?” she ponders over a swelling vibraphone.
While listeners won’t find Brat summer-esque anthems on Charm, the album is a soothing balm, providing an understated rush that’s ultimately just as impactful. What Clairo proves is that craft is paramount and she’s primed to become one of the most revered songwriters of her generation.
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Ken Casey stuck around after the show in San Diego, California, talking to members of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers.John Francis Peters for Rolling Stone
Some of the challenge-coin haul.
The band started as a bet. “My band has a show in three weeks,” Casey’s coworker told him in 1996. “I dare you to open for us.”John Francis Peters for Rolling Stone
Dropkick Murphys (from left): Casey, DaRosa, Webster, Kelly, Rheault, Brennan, and Lynch John Francis Peters for Rolling Stone
Casey is largely the voice of the band, but the other members back him up. “We’re so lucky he’s the mouthpiece,” says Brennan, left. John Francis Peters for Rolling Stone
“Only the Irish can take a song about death and destruction, famine, alcoholism, and raise a glass like it’s an anthem,” says Casey. John Francis Peters for Rolling Stone
“Anytime it feels like things are about to plateau for us, something gives us a little bump,” says guitarist Lynch. “It feels exciting. It feels dangerous. It feels like doing something.” John Francis Peters for Rolling Stone
Jay-Z performing at the Stade de France in Saint-Denis in Paris.
Jay-Z Deserves the Super Bowl Halftime Gig
Where’s the love? Jay-Z asked that question 25 years ago, in the chorus of one of many songs in his catalog that still move audiences today. If he performs “Heart of the City” as part of his Super Bowl halftime show next February, those indignant bars are sure to be a highlight: “First the Fat Boys break up, now every day I wake up, somebody got a problem with Hov…” It would be an appropriate choice, too — because then as now, any time Jay-Z notches a new achievement, people find a way to complain.
The jokes and nonsense started almost as soon as the first rumors trickled out that Jay, whose company Roc Nation has executive-produced the Super Bowl halftime show since 2019, might be choosing himself to headline next year’s show. “Jay-Z just Dick Cheney’d himself for the Super Bowl,” Puck‘s Matthew Belloni quipped on X last week, alluding to the time that the late prince of darkness, who’d been asked to run the vice-presidential search committee for George W. Bush’s 2000 campaign, put himself on the ticket. (Super hip and current reference, and not at all apples-and-oranges.) Others pointed to TMZ reports that pop stars like Harry Styles and Justin Bieber had been asked first. “How are they the frontrunners, and he end up in the front?” Cam’Ron, who’s delighted in trolling Jay for many years, wondered aloud on his podcast. “Out of all the people on the roster, they couldn’t pick nobody else?” asked Cam’Ron‘s co-host, Ma$e.
These critiques miss the point, which is that Jay-Z is one of the best choices for a high-profile gig like this. He’s a superstar with a comparable level of name recognition to any other A-lister in music. He has a deep stack of classic songs going back decades. And he’s a highly skillful live performer who knows his way around a stadium stage, as he’s spent this year reminding people on his Jay-Z 30 tour. He tore down Yankee Stadium three nights in a row this summer; just last week, he rocked SoFi Stadium, which happens to be the same place where the 2027 Super Bowl is being held. He held the crowd’s attention with ease at all of those shows, and though there were plenty of glittery guests — that’s a given at a Jay show, and it will surely be true at the Super Bowl, too — he did it mostly through the force of his own magnetic energy. Let’s state the obvious here: Jay-Z is really, really good at rapping. We’re talking about one of the slickest, sharpest talkers in the history of words, someone who made it to the top through a sustained act of myth-making, then kept going. Are we seriously asking whether he can handle a 15-minute televised performance?
And yeah, there’s a touch of self-congratulation in the way he appointed himself. So what? Praising his own gifts is arguably Jay-Z’s greatest talent of all. He made a fine art out of self-applause. He told his story again and again, retracing the steps from Marcy Projects to the corner suite, and he made us believe. It would almost be insulting to the audience if he didn’t give himself the gig at some point.
Pop culture observers in recent years surely remember the backlash to Super Bowl headliners like Kendrick Lamar and Bad Bunny — all of it at least culturally conservative, and much of it frankly just racist. The blowback to Jay’s announcement is mostly coming from other quarters, at least for now (let’s just wait to see what the right-wing swamps make of this one). But it’s disappointing in a different way. Jay-Z has spent his career expounding hip-hop as a mainstream commercial force. He’s not a businessman, he’s a business, man. But he’s also an artist. He’s made huge amounts of money, and gotten himself into the rarefied rooms where he even has the ability to give himself a gig like this, by spinning his experiences into compelling narrative art, one verse at a time. Let’s not lose sight of how impressive his life’s work really is. Jay-Z is not some random C-suite bro, and he’s definitely not Dick Cheney. He’s one of the greatest rappers of all time, by any measure. He’s earned that Super Bowl spot.