A beautifully frenetic electronic-pop oddball — and we mean that in the greatest way — Dan Deacon has announced plans to release a new full-length album this summer. It's triumphantly titled America. Deacon is giving fans a taste of the new record with the song "Lots."
The Magnetic Fields' music provides one of several outlets for frontman Stephin Merritt's inspired songwriting. The band began recording a string of eclectic albums in 1993, and finally found mainstream recognition with 1999's three-disc 69 Love Songs.
Neil Young and Crazy Horse have a new record coming out Tuesday. Americana is blistering guitar romp through the classic American songbook, from the 1800s to doo-wop and beyond. Well today we we have a 40 minute film created by Bernard Shakey (Young's alias) filled with the music from Americana.
Regina Spektor has spent much of the past decade perfecting an oddly lovely mix of sweet melodies, piano-driven pop, flashes of experimentalism, and cheery but wistful ruminations on love and heartache. But Spektor writes and performs with the passion of punk, and her otherwise innocent story-songs take unconventional turns.
May is Asian-American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month. All month, Tell Me More is talking to people who trace their heritage to that part of the world, and have changed the game in various fields.
Nonprofit "game changer" Ritu Sharma knew from a young age that she wanted to make a difference. Now, as the president and co-founder of Women Thrive Worldwide, she is hoping to lift women and children around the world out of poverty by influencing U.S policy.
I'm Michel Martin and this is TELL ME MORE from NPR News. Do you ever go to the world music section looking for tunes and say to yourself, what does world music really mean? Well, our next guest might be the poster child for what it should mean. He's lived all over the world and, from those travels, has created a sound he rightly calls a global party. His latest album is titled Everyday Salama, meaning every day is a blessing.
Every summer for the past 33 years, a widely scattered group of close friends my husband made in summer camp in the 1960s has rented a beach house on the Jersey Shore for two weeks. I was enfolded into the group some five years into its existence. Apart from the camaraderie — which is precious beyond measure — one of the pleasures of returning to the same place every year lies in observing the subtle changes in the landscape: some new sand on a beach that's suffered erosion; the appearance of a new coffee-and-bagel joint within jogging distance of the rental house.