It’s good to know that one thing in this crazy world never changes: Ringo Starr remains the most charming man on the planet. The Beatles legend might be the most universally beloved figure in the music world, but even at the age of 85, he’s got more songs in him. As he cackles, “It’s like my 4-year-old granddaughter says: ‘Siri, play Ringo!’”
Ringo is getting ready to drop his new country album, Long Long Road, with the single “Choose Love” available on Friday. He made it with producer T Bone Burnett, a year after their acclaimed Nashville collaboration Look Up. “I love country music, so it wasn’t hard,” Ringo says. But he gets a little help from his friends, including hot young vanguard artists like Molly Tuttle and Billy Strings, as well as stars like Sheryl Crow and St. Vincent.
Ringo’s relentless vitality is a marvel, 60 years after the man sang “Yellow Submarine.” When you see him onstage these days, he’s a whirlwind, constantly in motion. It raises the question: would Ringo agree he’s still the best dancer in rock & roll? “Yes, I agree,” he says. “I’m just sort of a mover.”
He’s truly an inspiration — he spends the show either drumming or shimmying, when he could probably get away with an armchair. “That would be so great,” he says. “The drum chair is like an armchair: ‘Okay, let’s goooo.’ No, you’ve got to be upright and into it.”
Long Long Road shows that Ringo’s still into it, as always. He surprised everyone last year with Look Up, his first country record since his 1970 solo gem Beaucoups of Blues. But he sounds invigorated by making a Nashville album that’s legitimately up to date, with cutting-edge musicians. “That’s who he is,” Burnett says. “He’s been a convener for a long time, and a collaborator.”
On Long Long Road, due on April 24,he’s playing with a cast of new-school renegade pickers including Tuttle, Strings, and Sarah Jarosz. “Isn’t that far out?” Ringo says. “Molly’s been so great, and Billy Strings is amazing. What a great welcoming I had when I went to Nashville. It was just a great experience, so we just got on and made another one.”
The single “Choose Love” is a twanged-up remake of the title song from his 2005 album, where Ringo sings the line, “The long and winding road is more than a song.” That line still resonates for him. “It’s a long, long road, brother,” he says. “It’s sort of my life: leaving Liverpool, living in London, getting to New York, coming to L.A. So that’s why I want to call it Long Long Road. I wasn’t even going to call it “It’s A…” because that’s giving it length. Just Long Long Road can go on forever.”
Ringo radiates all his famous wisdom and mirth, as well as his wall-shaking laughter. (As John Lennon told him in A Hard Day’s Night, “You’re a window-rattler, son.”) Today, his Zoom screen has a background of a tropical beach with palm trees. “I like to have this on,” he says. “It’s a backdrop for the winter. Then when the summer comes, we’ll have something else.” He drops quintessential Ringosophical proverbs like, “I just get up in the morning, do my stuff, and do my stuff.”
Last year, he made his debut at the Grand Ole Opry, at Emmylou Harris’ invitation. He performed “Act Naturally,” the Buck Owens classic he croons on the Beatles’ Help! He also filmed the special Ringo & Friends at the Ryman, featuring stars from Brenda Lee to Rodney Crowell to Jack White, who sang “Don’t Pass Me By.” (Tuttle did the honors on “Octopus’s Garden.”) The Ryman special also had a tribute from an old mate, Paul McCartney, who knows something about long and winding roads. As Macca said, “He was the first guy in the Beatles to really turn us on to country music.”
The new album continues his Nashville Ringossance. “I like to think I made the right move, made the right turn,” he says. “How it happened is we went to listen to Olivia Harrison reading her book [Came the Lightning], her poems for George. She had about 50 people there, and one of them was T Bone, who I’ve bumped into many times since the Seventies.” He asked Burnett to write him a song, but got more than he bargained for. “He sent a country track over. I said, ‘All right, so I’m going to make a country EP now?’ But then he came into town and we sat around and I thought, oh, maybe he could produce an album on me. I said, ‘Well, how many songs have we got?’ And he had them in his pocket — nine.”
“I can’t help myself,” Burnett admits. “He invited me to write a song for him, and look what happened. I wrote a good long song for him.” But after their success with Look Up, the tunes just kept flowing. “It’s tremendous fun to write for his voice, for his spirit,” Burnett says. “He’s one of the most recognizable voices in the world, so his voice is in your head with every word you write. It becomes very easy. It’s like guide rails that you can just chase, to follow down a path.”
Ringo’s always had country in his soul. “Well, if I talk like that, it’s because of where I come from,” he says, exaggerating his Liverpudlian accent. “That’s very fooking country, innit? But growing up in Liverpool, we were blessed because it was a port. The ships would go to America and then come back and they’d have all the records, country and blues. Liverpool was like the capital of what’s happening now in America. The boys would bring in all these records. And after three days, they’d spent all their money, so they sold the records. That’s how it was.”
When the Beatles fell apart in 1970, Ringo made the country album Beaucoups of Blues, with the pedal-steel legend Pete Drake, who’d played on Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline. But instead of a superstar country-rock trip, Ringo went to Music Row to do it their way. “Pete Drake was the country guy who put it together,” Ringo says. “We were working in the studio with George Harrison, and I sent my car to get him at Heathrow. He said, ‘Hey, is that your car, hoss?’ He called me ‘hoss!’ ‘I see you like country music,’ because I had a lot of cassettes in the car. ‘You should come out to Nashville and make a country record.’ I said, ‘A month in Nashville, could I deal with that?” He said, ‘What? Nashville Skyline took two days!’”
Sure enough, the Nashville studio cats banged out Beaucoups of Blues fast. “I flew in and the first morning we picked five songs, recorded them in the day, then finished them at night. The next day, five more songs, first the band then me, so we did the album in two days. Takes you two days to plug in now.”
But Ringo and T Bone took care not to make Long Long Road a retro trip. Like Look Up, it’s full of fresh blood. “It’s Been Too Long” features vocals from Tuttle and Jarosz. “Ringo’s sung only a few duets in his life,” Burnett says. “But two of them have been with Molly Tuttle. They sound beautiful together. I love Annie Clark [St. Vincent] from Dallas; she’s a soul sister. Sheryl Crow, such an amazing woman. They’re for-real artists, and Ringo’s a for-real artist, so I wanted to put other people with him.”
Ringo Starr reunited with producer T Bone Burnett for ‘Long Long Road.’ Photo: Scott Ritchie*That’s the way Starr has always preferred to operate, as a team player. “It works for me,” he says. “I just love to play. I’ve got a lot of grandkids, and three of them are drummers. I’ve played on a lot of people’s records over the last ten years. I put my stuff on, send it back, and I say, ‘Use me or lose me!’ It may not be what they wanted, but anyway, not many of them have losed me.”
He’s heading back out on the road with his All-Starr Band, which has kept touring with a rotating cast since 1990. “The audience and I, we know each other,” he says. “I know they love me and they know I love them, so we can have some fun. I tell the band, ‘We’ve got to stay up.’ And that’s what we do.”
We should all have this man’s energy level. “Well, you’ve got to eat more broccoli,” he says. “All the good things about me, I blame broccoli for. So now I say, peace and love and broccoli.”
His plainspoken voice sounds reflective on Long Long Road — it’s almost certainly the best album ever made by an 85-year-old. It was recorded in Nashville and L.A., with six Burnett tunes and three by Starr. (“Give me a bit of a melody and a chord and I can write songs,” Ringo says with pride.) He also does a vintage 1950s tune by rockabilly pioneer Carl Perkins, one of the Beatles’ biggest heroes, titled “I Don’t See Me in Your Eyes Anymore.” Ringo sings it with the stoic sense of fate that’s always haunted his singing ever since classics like “It Don’t Come Easy” or “Photograph.”
All four Fabs were deeply immersed in country sounds. “Look, the Beatles, if they came out today, would be called an Americana band,” Burnett says. “All the way through, George Harrison played a Chet Atkins Country Gentleman guitar, and he played Carl Perkins-style finger-picking, which all goes back to Arnold Schultz, who taught Bill Monroe. Bill was the mandolin player in Arnold Shultz’s band and his Uncle Pen was the fiddle player.”
But Ringo was the most twangful of the lads. Before he even joined the Beatles, he played in a Liverpool skiffle combo called the Texans. “His drumming feel is very much a Texas feel,” says Burnett, a son of Fort Worth. “It’s a swing-time feel like Milton Brown and the Brownies.” Ringo’s always had the Lone Star State in his sound, as well as a lot of New Orleans. “He’s got a similar kind of intensity that Earl Palmer had, the drummer who played on all those Little Richard records. ‘Baby Don’t Go,’ on the new album, has a very New Orleans feel, very second-line. But the way he does it, it comes out completely original.”
Long Long Road reaches back to some of his earliest Americana influences. “On this record, we’ve done a Carl Perkins song,” Ringo says. “I hadn’t heard ‘I Don’t See Me in Your Eyes Anymore’ before. He writes in the way I love to sing.”
Singing the Perkins tune was the moment that brought Ringo’s entire musical journey full circle. “The first two songs I ever recorded with the Beatles were both Carl Perkins songs. And it’s like, we’re back to Carl again. That’s how it is. I mean, I don’t sit here and make the big plan. I just say yes to something, and it unfolds as we go along.” For Ringo, it’s still simple as that.








Chappell Roan performs onstage at the YouTube Brandcast event at Lincoln Center on May 13, 2026 in New York City.
Singer Karol G during the Monaco Grand Prix at the Circuit de Monaco, Monte Carlo. Picture date: Sunday June 7, 2026.
Marcello Hernández attends the 2026 Met Gala celebrating "Costume Art" at the Metropolitan Museum of Art on May 04, 2026 in New York City.









Albritton’s early sketches of Beatles George Harrison, Paul McCartney, and Ringo StarrJames Brosher/Indiana University
In the 2000s, Albritton used molds to make copies of her art to fund a nonprofit for struggling artists.(Photo by James Brosher/Indiana University)James Brosher/Indiana University
The original Plaster Casters of Chicago suitcase that Cynthia made in the 1960s is now housed in the Kinsey Institute archives in Indiana. (Photo by James Brosher/Indiana University)James Brosher/Indiana University
Albritton came up with the concept of making intimate casts out of dental alginate — and it became her calling card for years.© The Baron Alan Wolman Collection, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame
Albritton displays some of her artwork in her apartment in Chicago, where she spent most of her life.Jim Newberry
Later in her career, Albritton casted the breasts of female musicians.Richard Bellia


Jay-Z has turned the 30th anniversary of his classic debut album into a major marketing event
Jay-Z Knows the Past Still Pays
There’s a pleasant absurdity to the advertisements for JAŸ-Z30 that are currently found across New York’s subway tunnels. Their dramatic imagery — a stark black backdrop pierced through the center with a pair of hands, presumably Jay’s, fixed into the famous Roc diamond — invites a kind of religious authority that feels a touch ironic for anyone who’s old enough to remember all types of handwringing over those very hand symbols only a few years ago. And maybe that’s the point. By now, nostalgia’s grip extends layers deep. So much so that you could find yourself waiting for the train, reminiscing on the days when people still made jokes about the so-called Illuminati.
Jay-Z’s months-long campaign commemorating the 30th anniversary of Reasonable Doubt and the 25th anniversary of The Blueprint has indeed resurfaced the rapper-turned-mogul’s success story. Reasonable Doubt, released in 1996, positioned Jay as not only a resonant voice in hip-hop but also in the increasingly lucrative business around it. After major labels passed, the album was released independently through Roc-A-Fella Records and Priority Records, setting the tone for Jay’s career as a business…man.
And in the full-court press campaign around this summer’s anniversaries, culminating in this weekend’s trio of performances at Yankee Stadium, Jay’s business acumen is again at center focus. You’d be forgiven for throwing around buzzwords like “multichannel” or “cross-platform” to describe the slate of festivities. There was a Spotify-backed takeover of the J and Z trains; custom JAŸ-Z30 subway maps and a Google Maps guide; commemorative Brooklyn Public Library cards; and most recently Bowery Station and DUMBO pop-ups with archival footage and merch. (That these Yankee Stadium shows come on the heels of Taylor Swift’s wedding at MSG suggests some sort of mega-rich takeover of cultural institutions, but let’s leave that one for another day.)
The moves come as nostalgia continues to drive a considerable chunk of the music industry’s profits. In an era when old songs can circulate infinitely on streaming platforms, gaining new life in the form of everything from samples to memes, and when superfans are willing to spend on physical goods, limited merch, and live experiences, album anniversaries have become their own product launches. Jay-Z’s Reasonable Doubt campaign is only the splashiest recent example.
No wonder, then, that Beyoncé already appears to be setting the stage for her own run of commemorations for the upcoming 20th anniversary of her album B’Day in September. Over the weekend, she released her first new song in two years, titled “Morning Dew (Donk),” to tease the upcoming reissue. According to Luminate, older music still dominates attention, with only 43 percent of U.S. on-demand audio streams in 2025 coming from tracks released in the previous five years. This is also one reason why vinyl and physical formats have seen renewed value in recent years, with the RIAA reporting that vinyl sold 46.8 million units in the U.S. in 2025, compared with 29.5 million CDs. Luminate says superfans are 20 percent of U.S. music listeners and spend heavily on live events and physical merchandise; 73 percent of these fans purchase physical merch, versus 26 percent of general music listeners.
In today’s industry, having a major anniversary is like having a new product to promote, a way to participate in an already thriving marketplace for nostalgia. The demand is visible well beyond official artist stores: Vintage concert tees now trade as collectibles, with one 1967 Grateful Dead shirt selling at Sotheby’s for $19,300 and rare rap tees treated as wearable archives of hip-hop history. Anniversary campaigns give artists and labels a way to reclaim that energy, turning the secondary market’s appetite for old symbols into new, officially sanctioned products.
Jay-Z’s official anniversary store turns that logic into a menu of objects: a $1,500 collector’s crate, a $300 cassette box, $400 Yankees jerseys, and four-figure varsity jackets. Of course, Jay is far from alone when it comes to legacy acts cashing in on nostalgia. He’s more like one salient example of a much larger wave of artists and promoters marketing anniversary products that includes the Smashing Pumpkins’ Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness 30th anniversary super-deluxe edition, My Chemical Romance’s Black Parade stadium tour, and the returned Warped Tour, among many others.
Five years before Reasonable Doubt became the occasion for library cards, pop-ups, collector crates, and stadium spectacle, its 25th anniversary was marked by an NFT. In 2021, Sotheby’s and Roc Nation auctioned a one-of-one Derrick Adams artwork tied to the album, billed as the only official Jay-Z-authorized commemoration of the anniversary. Around the same time, Roc-A-Fella was in court over co-founder Damon Dash’s attempted sale of a Reasonable Doubt-related NFT, a dispute that ended with a judgment making clear that no shareholder could sell or dispose of an interest in the album — including through an NFT — without the company’s authorization.
That ownership question is becoming harder to avoid as music enters the AI era, where the archive is not only something to reissue, exhibit, or sell, but something that can be scraped, modeled, and trained on. Last week, SZA took to Twitter to express frustration with AI music company Suno, notably calling out Diplo by name as one of the company’s investors. “DO NOT GIVE AWAY YOUR VIBRANIUM !!! DO NOT TRAIN AI WITH YOUR GENIUS,” she wrote on Twitter. Her complaint was joined by Kenneth Blume, who said Suno’s workers were “stealing from countless struggling musicians.”
For an artist with a legacy as impactful as Jay-Z’s, the current anniversary boom feel like the latest phase of a longer project of deciding who gets to turn hip-hop history into intellectual property. Jay-Z’s legacy deserves preservation; few catalogs have made a stronger case for it. But the more that preservation arrives through limited-edition objects, auction platforms, luxury merch, and authorized experiences, the more it has to answer a harder question: When does protecting the archive become another way of extracting value from it?