The Rocket Man and his longtime friend Carlile, along with familiar faces Bernie Taupin and Andrew Watt, recreate the playfulness and sense of fun on some of John’s Seventies gems

Turkish fans had urged the rock band to cancel the show as thousands of citizens protest the recent arrest of mayor Ekrem Imamoglu

Turkish fans had urged the rock band to cancel the show as thousands of citizens protest the recent arrest of mayor Ekrem Imamoglu

A New York judge has ruled that the Canadian star’s legal team can begin discovery

DJ and producer shares update from hospital

Brilliantly led by Collette, PJ Hogan’s 1994 story of a lovable loser was the feelgood sensation that rescued the band’s reputation – how can you resist it?

When writer-director PJ Hogan made Muriel’s Wedding in 1994, he surely knew he had struck feelgood-movie gold. But maybe he didn’t realise he had personally authored a pivotal moment in Abbamania’s global history: the momentous transitional phase between the band being taboo-naff and being world-conqueringly beloved. (Maybe Mr Hogan should be getting a cut of the Mamma Mia! musicals and the Abba Voyage live show.) Hogan also gave us our first real view of Toni Collette who started the way she meant to go on: being outstanding in everything she is in.

But back in 1994, it was still appropriate that a loser – albeit a lovable loser – could be depicted as an Abba fan; but this movie gets something right that the endless pedantic jukebox musicals that came later get wrong. This crucial pro-Abba film is not itself obsessed with Abba and the soundtrack isn’t wall-to-wall Abba; our heroine says, once she tastes success, “I haven’t listened to one Abba song. That’s because now my life’s as good as an Abba song.”

Rod Laver Arena, Melbourne
Her farewell tour is a pockmarked history of her roots and wide-ranging influences, full of her trademark elan and vigour

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Fandom isn’t a good look on a critic; we’re supposed to be sober and impartial, analytical and measured. What to do, then, when called upon to review your favourite idol, the singer who first turned you on to the power of pop? Judicious rumination or tinny screams of delight?

There’s room for both in this swan song from 80s pop eccentric Cyndi Lauper, as irrepressible here as when I saw her as a teenager, then touring her new album True Colours. She’s had an illustrious career, including a side gig composing musicals – Kinky Boots, and soon an adaptation of 80s workplace comedy Working Girl – but the bulk of her hits are drawn from her first two albums, including the astonishing debut She’s So Unusual.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun – the song that gives this farewell tour its name – is also by far Lauper’s most famous – though the audience has to wait till the very end for it, in a riot of colour and light directly inspired by Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama. In the buildup, we get a pockmarked history of Lauper’s roots and musical inclinations. Those less familiar with her are likely to be shocked by her power and versatility, her voice ranging across blues, jazz, rock and country without ever losing its bright pop sensibility.

The night opens with the quirky, infectious She Bop, followed quickly by The Goonies ‘R’ Good Enough – a song she refused to play live for many years until she was badgered by Australian fans into including it. Both are performed with elan and vigour, Lauper’s signature jittery moves and syncopated inflections demonstrating the idiosyncrasy of her talent. I Drove All Night comes soon after, sultry and looping, her voice still carrying plenty of heft and texture.

Throughout, the show is peppered with numbers from later albums in a retrospective of Lauper’s outre career. We get an excellent rendition of Who Let In the Rain, from her 1993 record Hatful of Stars, the LED screens providing a torrential background to the sweetly melancholic ballad. Sally’s Pigeons, also from that album, is supported by a vivid recollection of her childhood in blue-collar Queens, including a video essay of memories and associations.

A massive part of Lauper’s appeal as a live performer, apart from the sheer virtuosity of her voice, is the rambling, discursive monologues that bookend many of the songs. They give a sense not only of the warmth and humility of the woman but the audacity and authenticity of the artist, who shot like a strange comet from the working-class Italian-American family of her youth. There is something endearingly homespun about the show, like an extremely well-resourced slide night.

A New York judge has ruled that the Canadian star’s legal team can begin discovery

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The ex-member of Brother Beyond now writes chart-toppers for stars. Why has he decided to make a musical of seedy, gutter-life classic Midnight Cowboy, a film he can’t bear?

Troop into Eg White’s living room, past the bright, spacious kitchen and the yapping terriers (“Meet the unwelcoming committee!”), then descend into the snug basement studio with its underfloor heating and you will have reached the place where pop bangers are born: hits for Adele (Chasing Pavements), Will Young (Leave Right Now), Duffy (Warwick Avenue) and countless others. The Ivor Novello award-winning songwriter, born Francis White, sits in front of a desk cluttered with screens and consoles and thingamajigs. In T-shirt, jeans and trainers, he looks as lean as the neck of a Stratocaster. When he is in quizzical mode, as he very often is, four deep grooves appear on his forehead like the strings on a bass guitar.

White’s newest project is the music for a stage version of Midnight Cowboy, the Oscar-winning 1969 buddy movie with Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman as deluded outsiders adrift in New York, adapted now by Bryony Lavery. Most of its 15 songs – from sanguine ballads to Latin-tinged stompers – were composed not here in White’s west London home but on a family holiday to Colombia. For two hours each morning, while his wife and children were still in bed, he wrote on a cheap baritone ukulele, which he plucks off the wall from between rows of guitars to show me. “You can take it in the hand luggage,” he says cheerfully. “If your kid sits on it, which happened a few times, it lives.” Presumably he means the ukulele, not the kid.

‘Remember Freedom of Speech?’

The artist and musician is a brilliant subject for an epic, in-depth biography, but this is merely hagiography

In 1966 a woman sat down at the Destruction in Art Symposium at London’s Africa Centre and invited people to cut off her clothes. It was an era when Yves Klein used naked women as paintbrushes and Allen Jones made sculptures of fetishistically dressed women posed as furniture. But Yoko Ono was in control of her own self-sacrifice. It was the third time she’d performed this paradoxically passive action, and each time it was the audience who exposed themselves as they took scissors to her clothing.

This was also the beginning of a sojourn in London for the Japanese-born New York artist that would catapult her from avant garde obscurity to global fame. Her exhibition at the Indica Gallery that same year was visited by John Lennon, who climbed one of her artworks, a ladder to the ceiling. At the top he used a magnifying glass to read the tiny word “YES”. The love kindled that day would be blamed for breaking up the Beatles.

The singer hit out at his previous band’s ‘dirty deeds’

Rare intimate performance will take place a week before the release of the band’s first album in nine years

The US-Canadian dual citizen speculates he may be ‘barred or put in jail to sleep on a cement floor’ after his European tour, after years of speaking against Trump

Neil Young has shared his concerns of being barred from the US after his European tour later this year, thanks to his outspoken critiques of Donald Trump.

On Tuesday, on his website Neil Young Archives, the 79-year-old musician – who has dual Canadian-American citizenship – wrote of his fears after the recent spate of people being detained and deported upon entering the US. These incidents have been credited to vague or unspecified visa issues, but have frequently affected individuals who have criticised the Trump administration either publicly or in messages on their phone read by immigration officers.

Exclusive: The Grammy-winner tells Caitlin Hornik what inspired her forthcoming music and shares an update on her next Broadway-aimed musical

The President has enraged Canadians with his calls for the country to become America’s 51st state

It could be that you really dislike a song, or perhaps the person who sings it. Either way, your DJ needs to know

Name: “Do not play” lists.

Age: It’s probably been a thing for pretty much as long as playlists have been a thing, but it’s now more officially a thing because there was just a New York Times article about them.

So Sam Mendes has cast his Beatles tetralogy, but none are from Merseyside. Don’t worry, I’ve just invented the Beatles Cinematic Universe

Sam Mendes has announced the cast for his colossal four-film Beatles extravaganza: Harris Dickinson as John, Paul Mescal as Paul, Barry Keoghan as Ringo and Joseph Quinn as George – and to tumultuous acclaim he brought his Fab Four on stage at the CinemaCon event in Las Vegas, a now well-established affair in the film world, incidentally, satirised in a forthcoming episode of Seth Rogen’s TV comedy The Studio.

I’m sorry to say, however, that Sam has almost entirely ignored the casting suggestions that I made in February last year. For what this is worth, I went with Leo Woodall as Paul, Finn Wolfhard as George, Harry Melling as Ringo and Barry Keoghan as John (though Barry got Ringo in the end). But I like to think that Sam Mendes and his producer Pippa Harris were thinking on more or less the same lines as me. Interestingly, there are no American actors doing Brit accents – just the kind of well-trained British or Irish actors who can fabricate perfect American accents for American roles elsewhere.

The British-Guyanese singer topped the reggae chart with 1978’s Walk Away, but despite work with Robert Plant and others, she’s rarely returned to the studio. This interview might change that…

In December 1978, Marie Pierre was at No 1 in the UK reggae chart with the lovers rock classic Walk Away, a beautiful tearstained lament on a troubled relationship. Her 1979 debut album Love Affair, powered by another enduring scene song in Choose Me, remained one of Trojan’s best-selling albums well into the 1980s; Pierre, with her crystalline multi-octave voice, seemed destined to follow her contemporary, Silly Games singer Janet Kay, into mainstream pop-reggae success.

But in the 46 years since, Pierre has never released another album. A career that promised so much has – despite TV work and successful backing singing gigs with Robert Plant, Donna Summer and Chaka Khan – been one of frustration and thwarted ambition. Misfortune, mistrust and mistreatment, personal and professional, have sidelined her. “I feel as though I’ve been in chains,” she says on a video call. “I’ve been anchored for no good reason.”

Whether you’re a parent or not, you should be able to talk candidly about how tough it is having kids

A few weeks ago I told my friend – a good friend – that I was considering having a third kid. The colour washed from her face, and before her filter could kick in she said: “Please don’t.” She corrected herself. “You don’t really want to, do you?” I realised she thought I was unhappy. She thought I regretted it all. She was wrong on both accounts, but I didn’t blame her for coming to such a stark conclusion.

That friend was not Chappell Roan. But the pop star is being pelted with the internet equivalent of soiled nappies for saying “all [her] friends who have kids are in hell” and “she doesn’t know anyone who’s happy with children at her age”.

Screaming girls. Puppy-love songs. That haircut. As the Canadian superstar’s first record turns 15 – the same age he was when he became internationally inescapable – Mark Beaumont takes a look at his fast rise and often overlooked legacy

All four Beatles biopics, focusing on each member of the band, will be released in cinemas in April 2028

“The Beatles changed my understanding of music,” the film director Sam Mendes told an audience at CinemaCon 2025 in Las Vegas on Monday. “I’ve been trying to make a movie about them for years.”

And it seems the long and winding road will reach its destination in April 2028, as the James Bond and American Beauty director confirmed four biopics of the Fab Four – one for each member.

The novelist was just 12 when the ex-busker stunned a mammoth crowd at the Free Nelson Mandela concert – and sent everyone racing to Woolworths for her astonishing debut album. Its simple, honest, perfect songs of protest have mesmerised the writer ever since

On 11 June 1988, I was 12 and sitting with my family watching the Free Nelson Mandela Concert on TV. As a clan, we were old hands at trying to free Mandela, having done our fair share of marching and boycotting over the years, and this concert felt like the culmination of all that. There was a lot of excitement in the room: we squeezed on to the sofa and opened the windows wide. (If the wind’s blowing in the right direction, you can hear a Wembley audience roar from Willesden.)

Many world-famous musicians played that day. Most of them I don’t remember, but one I will never forget: Tracy Chapman. I think a lot of people feel that way, though when you rewatch the footage you realise what she was up against at the time. Nobody cheers as she takes the stage. In fact, the crowd seem hardly aware she’s arrived. People are chanting, chatting or just partying among themselves.

‘It’s become a sort of folk song. It’s played at weddings and funerals. Dundee United play it when we win. I’ve met people who’ve told me, “I was a worker for the council for 20 years” – just like the guy in the song’

I was a teacher in Glasgow but I wanted to start a band and write songs that meant something to people. Dignity began life during a holiday in Crete in 1985. I bought Sounds magazine at the airport. Morrissey was on the cover and the headline “Home thoughts from abroad” got me thinking about Glasgow. I was living in a tenement flat in Pollokshields, from where I’d see the cleansing department guys sweeping the road. So I started writing about a “worker for the council, has been 20 years” who dreamed of sailing away on a “ship called Dignity”.

A revelation at Pontins fuelled the producer to avant garde acclaim. But with ‘sublime’ sounds came struggles with substances. Her intense new album peels back the plaster

‘Kissed by a witch, I got hexed!” Aya howls through a storm of screaming electronics and bass groans on I Am the Pipe I Hit Myself With. The song revisits a time before Aya Sinclair was one of the UK avant garde’s most exciting talents – when she was still a Huddersfield teenager, newly into Christian rock. The music gave her “this tingly, bubbly sensation”, she says. “And someone said: ‘This is the holy spirit.’” The experience led her to join a Pentecostal congregation for a couple of years, but after confiding in a church friend about some “feelings” – Sinclair would later come out as a trans woman – she was “kicked out for being queer, essentially. I was given an ultimatum, to either closet myself or leave.” As she whispers in this track, over the quickening click of a Geiger counter, “they had me out on a witch-hunt, when I found myself”.

It’s a suitably vulnerable, conflicted opener to her new album Hexed!, which plays out in a lurching mix of heavy metal and hardcore electronics. The record sounds twisted and contorted, wincing at the pain of “peeling back the plaster”, she says over a video call. She is warm, funny and seemingly at peace – following the traumas and battles with substance abuse that she revisits on this nightmarish, alien album.