This article examines Googoosh, the reigning diva of Persian popular music, through an evaluation of diasporic Iranian discourse and artistic productions linking the vocalist to a feminized nation, its ‘victimisation’ in the revolution, and an attendant ‘nostalgia for the modern’ (Özyürek 2006) of pre-revolutionary Iran. Following analyses of diasporic media that project national drama and desire onto her persona, I then demonstrate how, since her departure from Iran in 2000, Googoosh has embraced her national metaphorization and produced new works that build on historical tropes linking nation, the erotic, and motherhood while capitalising on the nostalgia that surrounds her.

Despite huge popularity and lasting cultural impact, reality television shows such as The X Factor, a British music competition that started screening in 2004, are seen by many as a cultural nadir. However, in this article I argue that, while reading reality TV as an index of an increasingly superficial, market-based culture makes a great deal of sense, it doesn't tell the whole story. Using the particular music-based dramas of The X Factor as a case study, I explore ways in which this show and populist reality television in general might be seen to embody both the predicaments and potential pressure points of contemporary neoliberal culture.

The authors of this book present four complementary approaches to the issue of commercial song, i.e. of that ‘gastronomic’ music produced by the music industry in order to meet trends that the industry itself discovers (and feeds) in the national market. The fact that they have restricted the focus of their inquiry to ‘gastronomic’ music already suggests the polemic attitude of their studies: considering that the whole family of ‘bad music’ – music aimed at satisfying needs by definition trivial, superficial, immediate, short-lived and vulgar – is examined and accused here, the reader might think that the authors have employed a considerable number of pages to convince us of something we never doubted. Yet the authors felt the need to establish – albeit by means of analyses that are at times animated and angry – the historical and structural foundations of such musical sleaze.

This article presents the historical transformation of Finnish commercial radio popular music policies from 1985 to 2005 and contemplates the role of terrestrial radio in contemporary digital age. It argues that a sender-centred paradigm of early commercial radio was replaced swiftly by receiver-centred paradigm, which has been applied since the early 1990s. The change of radio music cultures is described in detail by dividing it into three different eras: Block Radio, Format Radio and Media Convergence. The study draws on the research project consisting of case studies analysing the music content of various radio stations. The primary empirical data is composed of 32 interviews of radio personnel and the analysis of 4,500 individual songs broadcast by popular music radio stations with newspaper and journal articles supporting the primary data. Radio music culture is approached theoretically from the ethnomusicological perspective and thus defined as all practices that have an effect on broadcast music, including the processes of acquiring, selecting and governing music. The empirical results of the study show that the transformation of radio music cultures is affected by economic, technological, legal, organisational and cultural factors.

The ‘post-’ in both post-identity politics and post-genre musical practice refers to the same thing. Through readings of Taylor Swift's ‘Shake It Off’, Diplo's description of his practice as a DJ, producer and impresario, Sasha Frere-Jones's infamous New Yorker piece on indie rock miscegenation, and critical race theorists Cristina Beltran and Jared Sexton's critiques of post-racial politics, I demonstrate that progress past traditional commitments to white racial purity is both the defining characteristic of post-racial whiteness, and what makes multigenre pop practice count as post-genre. The ‘post-’ in post-identity is what distinguishes post-genre practice from supposedly more primitive forms of genre transgression, such as the love & theft-style cultural appropriation Eric Lott identifies in 19th century blackface minstrelsy or Pitbull's Latin American style racial/musical mestizaje.

While the recent scholarship on labour in cultural industries has drawn attention to the conditions and experiences of ‘creative’ workers, few publications have addressed the ethical values informing their work. In contrast to the widespread assumption that the commercialisation of culture in this era has led to the curtailing of moral values, this article argues that artistic work has never ceased to be informed by moral values, albeit not universal ones. I draw on recent theoretical considerations raised by Mark Banks concerning Alasdair MacIntyre's and Pierre Bourdieu's theories on work ethics within the problematics of creative and cultural industries. I provide an ethnographically grounded case study that extends the presentation of Roy Cape: A Life on the Calypso and Soca Bandstand. The analysis offered suggests how the relationship between what MacIntyre calls the ‘internal and external goods' of a practice requires considerable historical and ethnographic contextualisation. I argue for a pragmatic and experience-centred approach to work ethics in the context of the broader discussion of creative labour.

Flamenco music has consistently been misrepresented as an exclusively aesthetic construct only concerned with the transmission of essential and timeless values and with the production of beauty. This insidious mystification is a consequence of the influence that several decades of nacionalcatolicismo (the ideological construction of Franco's Spain) has had over flamenco, together with its obscure and unclear origins, about three centuries ago. This paper will suggest that, against this commonly held belief, flamenco music frequently has a political agenda, which may be explicitly expressed in the lyrics of the cantes, or implicitly apparent in the formal and ideological structure of flamenco itself and its recordings. Camarón and Pachón's seminal La leyenda del tiempo (Polygram, 1979) will be explored both in its own right as one of the peaks of contemporary (new) flamenco and also as a clear showcase of how flamenco may be politicized in various ways and serve a clearly ideological purpose without neglecting its musical and aesthetic role.

This paper sets out to reflect on the implications of the heritagisation of popular music by museums. ‘Heritage’ is not something that holds intrinsic value but rather represents a social construction that produces difference by adding value to specific objects within particular social dynamics. This means that heritagisation processes operant in museums prove highly susceptible to ideological distortion and hence require scrutiny. Studying the case of the Portuguese exhibition A Magia do Vinil, a Música que Mudou a Sociedade, I analyse two specific domains: the concepts and the narrative deployed to address popular music discursively; and the objects selected for exhibition, in conjunction with the interactive practices they foster with audiences. This case study demonstrates how popular music heritagisation practices may largely correspond with those approaches taken by conventional art exhibitions – not only through the uncritical discourses they reproduce concerning their subject matter, but also through the idea that vision is the means for engaging museumgoers.

Previous studies of indie music from the 1980s and 1990s have noted that it uses a number of stylistic markers – involving production values, singing style instrumentation and lyrical themes – to convey difference from a perceived mainstream. However, the ideal of difference also influences other aspects of songwriting. As a case study, this article examines early songs by the highly regarded indie band Pavement in which irregularity in phrasing and hypermeter supports a narrative of differentiation. Recurring strategies for creating irregularity include thwarting expected closure at the ends of phrases, using the sounds of words to project conflicting cues for grouping boundaries and creating highly irregular hypermetric lengths. These metric and phrasing devices, when heard in the context of songs, often have vivid narrative or expressive implications.

You are what you hear, not what you say. This personal reflection explores how listening to music in the post 9/11 context enabled me to negotiate ideas of diasporic Muslim identity when speaking as Muslim proved much more difficult. Islamophobia and Islamophilia both apply pressures on the kind of Muslim one can be in public. Listening to electronic music genres, hip hop and punk from the US and UK opened up spaces to engage with war and terror, racism and media. Much of this music refers directly to Muslim peoples, places and structures of feeling. Yet music that isn't explicit about the Muslim is also conscripted for life during wartime in which some of us feel wary about articulating those Muslim parts of our garbled selves. Music genres have specific affordances that modulate Muslim affects and discourses, and shape new and indeterminate ways of being Muslim.

This article studies the ways that Post-Internet ideas inform much contemporary musical production. Drawing on interviews conducted with musicians/artists self-consciously highlighting Post-Internet themes in their work, including Arca, Ryan Trecartin, 18+, Holly Herndon and ADR, the paper emphasises the significance of the term ‘Post-Internet’ for contemporary identity politics. It outlines the Post-Internet ideas of Karen Archey, Robin Peckham and Nathan Jurgenson, illuminating their indebtedness to posthuman discourses through a study of the music of Holly Herndon. It then introduces the notion of ‘digital queering’, a trend located in the work of many Post-Internet musicians. Mykki Blanco, 18+, Arca and Ryan Trecartin fuse the posthumanism of Post-Internet identity with the fluid gender deconstructions of queer theory. This is inspired by the ability to perform multiple ‘selves’ online as well as the intimate relationship with digital networks that is a consequence of Post-Internet ideas.

This article addresses the uses that record companies have made of two rhetorical tropes. The first is that only one in 10 artists succeed. The second is that they are investing in new music. These two notions have been combined to give the impression that record companies are taking risks both economically and aesthetically. They have been employed to justify the companies’ ownership of sound recording copyright and their system of exclusive, long-term recording contracts. More recently, the rhetoric has been employed to combat piracy, extend the term of sound recording copyright and account for the continuing usefulness of record companies. It is the argument of this article that investment in new music is not necessarily risk-taking; rather, it is the policies derived from risk-taking that provide the financial security of record companies.

This paper sets coordinates squarely for Holleran's ‘aesthetic center of the universe’ – venturing towards the black hole of the nightclub dancefloor. Further, it will investigate those writers determined to capture the electronic essence of this at times alien dance music culture within the rather more earth-bound parameters of the written word. How might such authors write about something so otherworldly as the nightclub scene? How might they write lucidly and fluidly about the rigid, metronomic beat of electronic music? What literary techniques might they deploy to accurately recount in fixed symbols the drifting, hallucinatory effects of a drug experience? In an attempt to address these questions this paper will offer an altogether outerspace overview of this subculture and its fictional literary output.

This article takes an imagined, transnational living room as its setting, examining jazz's place in representations of the ‘modern’ middle-class home across the post-war West, and exploring the domestic uses that listeners both casual and committed made of the music in recorded form. In magazines as apparently diverse as Ideal Home in the UK and Playboy in the US, a certain kind of jazz helped mark a new middlebrow connoisseurship in the 1950s and 60s. Yet rather than simply locating the style in a historical sociology of taste, this piece attempts to describe jazz's role in what was an emergent middle-class sensorium. The music's sonic characteristics were frequently called upon to complement the newly sleek visual and tactile experiences – of furniture, fabrics, plastics, the light and space of modern domestic architecture – then coming to define the aspirational bourgeois home; an international modern visual aesthetic was reflected back in jazz album cover art. But to describe experience or ambience represents a challenge to historical method. As much as history proper, then, it's through a kind of experimental criticism of both music and visual culture that this piece attempts to capture the textures and moods that jazz brought to the postwar home.

This article focuses on Arcade Fire's 2004 first album, Funeral. It is analytical in orientation, offering close (analytical) readings of Funeral's 10 tracks from the standpoint of reception of the album as particularly ‘emotional’. In order to explain Funeral's generation of extreme emotion, the article applies tools from current formal theory, particularly the theory of sentence phrase-structure. It connects sentence form with Spicer's notion of (ac)cumulative processes. With a nod to Osborn's article on ‘terminal climax’, it shows how Arcade Fire's sentential forms are unusually directed towards anthemic climaxes, associated with emotional breakthrough. The article also explores the tension in the music, grounded in the indie ethos in general, between ‘spectacular’ stasis and forward motion.

Led Zeppelin have long been hailed as the ambassadors of cock rock. Yet, the band's fourth album – the commercial behemoth otherwise known as IV – features collaborations with two women: Sandy Denny's vocal contributions to ‘The Battle of Evermore’ and Memphis Minnie's co-songwriting credit on ‘When the Levee Breaks’. The two tracks feature landscapes dominated by powerful female forces via Denny's Queen of Light character and her counterpart embodied in Memphis Minnie's dark floodwaters. Through an analysis of both songs’ feminised soundscapes, I explore the links between Zeppelin's musical style and the social and political climate of 1970s post-imperial Britain. Investigation into these women's roles not only fills a gap in Led Zeppelin research, but also allows for a wider consideration of the connection between gender and representations of landscape as an important component for popular music study, particularly in terms of the cultural attitudes and politics of a post-imperial nation.

This article examines the complex racial and national politics that surrounded British post-punk musicians’ incorporation of and identification with dub-reggae in the late 1970s. I analyse this historical moment from sociological, intra-musical and discursive perspectives, reading the musical incorporation of dub-reggae by The Police, Gang of Four and Joy Division against the backdrop of the era's music press discourse. I also unpack discursive representations of Jamaican musicians and ask: what role does subaltern performativity play in contributing to ‘imaginary’ critical conceptions of dub, particularly concerning the Jamaican melodica player Augustus Pablo? I conclude by suggesting that post-punk musicians’ incorporation of dub-reggae represents neither an unencumbered post-colonial socio-musical alliance nor a purely colonial one, but rather exceeds and therefore problematises these two positions.

Hip hop group Wu-Tang Clan sold only one, expensive copy of their album, Once Upon A Time in Shaolin. This exemplifies recent strategies by popular music artists to establish their work as art, with what Walter Benjamin calls ‘aura’, in response to the accessibility and dematerialisation enabled by digital technology as well as longstanding cultural condescension. Critics argue that popular music should not be restricted but shared, with digital technology increasing opportunities for shared consumption. This article considers the fate of music's aura in the age of mechanical reproduction, arguing that it does not disappear but is dispersed and diversified. The digital acceleration of mass reproduction has drawn mixed responses from artists, fans and commentators, and Shaolin and similar projects show how the separation of music from its physical commodity form has brought renewed attention to perennial tensions between the popular, artistic and commercial aspects of popular music.