Romarna Campbell had a sneaking suspicion that she was being tokenized. So she decided to indulge in a little mischief.

When the UK-based drummer was commissioned for a piece, she noticed something was off. Her male counterpart had received a detailed prompt; Campbell just got a bare request for music. "There was no guidance. There was no, 'We would like it in this space, or to be inspired by this,'" she tells GRAMMY.com. "They were very much more interested in having press shots and biographies than they were in this commission."

Campbell felt blithely compartmentalized — an unwilling vessel for a performative gesture. "It baffles me that you could reduce my art solely to me being Black or being a woman because it ticks a box for you somewhere," she continues. "And probably a funding box as well." To get one over on them, Campbell submitted the most rudimentary, half-baked music she could drum up — mostly some MIDI loops with rotten harmonies.

And, of course, it was accepted enthusiastically.

"During my friend's commission, he was sending them parts and they would give him feedback," she says. "I sent them this trash commission, and they sent me this really happy email that was like, 'Oh, Romarna, we're so grateful for your artistry.'" Campbell called out the commissioners, directing them to her Bandcamp stuffed with fully conceptualized and executed works as a point of reference.

When they requested a new composition, Campbell asked for more money — as she'd held up her end of the contract — which they couldn't, or wouldn't, give. And when they asked for a meeting about her experience to ascertain how they could improve it, Campbell refused.

"I'm not a cultural or diversity consultant," she says. "So, why is that my responsibility for an organization that's trying to say that they have this diverse roster of musicians and composers?"

*Romarna Campbell. Photo: Iza Korzack*

Campbell's story resonates because it bears so many hallmarks of what women and gender-expansive musicians face in jazz and creative-music spaces: tokenism, patronization, a request to "educate" those perpetrating such attitudes. This is ironic given how couched in progressive politics and academia this world is — imbued with an intellectual air.

Granted, women and gender-expansive musicians have made strides over the decades. Not only are brilliant yet underheralded artists of yore like Mary Lou Williams, Geri Allen and Lil Hardin increasingly venerated, analyzed and discussed, but the pages of magazines like DownBeat and JazzTimes are full of women and non-cis, non-hetero musicians.

But in almost every sector of the jazz world, there's a long way to go — from how writers talk about women, to fair representation on festival lineups, to interpersonal interactions at residencies and workshops, and so on. 

That's why Campbell joined up with M³, or Mutual Mentorship for Musicians — a community meant to establish "a new model of mentorship" that elevates women and gender-expansive musicians, while offering chances for unique, collaborative commissions.

*Jen Shyu, a co-founder of M³*. *Photo: Daniel Reichert*

Founded by musicians Jen Shyu and Sara Serpa in 2020, M³ is just one of a host of jazz-adjacent organizations offering an alternative to outdated and occasionally corrosive systems of gatekeeping, hierarchy and exclusion.

Because of the sheer diversity of its members' creative and cultural backgrounds, M³ provides a wellspring of insight. Across a litany of interviews with its members, common themes emerge — identifying fundamental issues, but also potential solutions.

"I think part of it needs to be developed on a grassroots level, on a community level, and even moreso on a structural and cultural level — where the culture starts to shift in terms of it being a male-driven community and culture," saxophonist and composer Caroline Davis tells GRAMMY.com. "This patriarchal, boys' club situation."

Speaking Mindfully

In Davis' view, a possible first step to challenging that paradigm is simply being mindful of the way we talk to each other in the jazz community — including who gets the often bandied-upon designator of "genius."

"Older women are not geniuses, but older men are always geniuses and they have their following," Serpa notes. "And I'm not talking about people in the mainstream or who have access and resources. We have had musicians in our cohorts that have been on the scene for 30, 40 years. Even us — we haven't heard of them."

Plus, in the jazz community, especially adept players are often described as "killing" or "murdering" or "taking no prisoners." Obviously, nobody means that literally, and it's generally meant as a term of endearment or admiration. Still, Davis says, speech like that can alienate in surprising ways — and not simply due to varying tastes or sensibilities.

"It could be as simple as us shifting our language to include less brutalized words," she continues. "Maybe that seems performative, but I think it actually makes a huge difference to shift the way we talk about music, and the way people are sharing music."

Guitarist and composer Jessica Ackerley agrees: "Everything is rooted in harming other people," they tell GRAMMY.com. "Which is completely ridiculous."

*Sara Serpa, a co-founder of M³. Photo: Ebru Yildiz*

To fellow M³ member Anjna Swaminathan, this doesn't just serve to swerve around sensitivities — it offers a more holistic and inclusive model of success that doesn't just mean brute athleticism and might.

"It becomes this ego fest of how fast you can play, how complex you can get, how many polyrhythms you can learn," Swaminthan, a multidisciplinary artist, tells GRAMMY.com. "Straight, cis, white men who probably thought that they were happy with that success — they themselves will be able to heal, because we are offering another option."

But a need for more thoughtful language doesn't just extend to the classroom, or backstage, or in private conversation; it applies to how journalists write about musicians who aren't straight, white males.

Sticking To The Music — And Dispensing Of Boxes

In features, profiles and reviews, wrongheaded writing usually goes in one of two directions. The first is an example of old-school chauvinism — a writer salivating over a femme-presenting person's appearance before dealing with their art in any meaningful way.

The second is shoehorning them into readymade categories — even, or especially, when it's to a "progressive" end. Miriam Elhajli, a singer, composer and improviser who uses she/they pronouns, recalls one particularly off-putting exchange to this end.

"Someone was trying to write this article about me, and they were like, 'Well, tell me about your sexuality. What are your pronouns?' And I was just like, 'Honestly, dude, this has nothing to do with the music," she tells GRAMMY.com. "I don't want to tell you any of that s—t because it has nothing to do with it."

Elhajli goes on to question the idea of "having my moment to shine" — just because they happen to fit in a category of marginalized people at a convenient time.

*Miriam Elhajli. Photo: Daniel Katzenstein*

"There's boundaries, and there's a personal life too," they say. "I don't want to be pigeonholed. I contain multitudes. Why should I have to adhere to any identity politics? Identity politics are just getting really claustrophobic right now for me. We're missing the plot a little bit."

Campbell's thinking would seem to jibe with this; she highlights how attempts at inclusivity can tip over into reductionism. This aligns with M³'s grander aim — not to divide musicians by perceived degrees of marginalization, but reflect the reality on the ground and open doors for talent from all walks of life.

"Maybe we can have a relationship between macho [behavior] and jazz in the history of jazz," pianist and composer Paula Shocron, who hails from Buenos Aires, tells GRAMMY.com. "But if you go to the States and see the jazz scenes, it’s not the same."

"I just want to make it clear that we're not, in doing this mutual mentorship for musicians program, [we're not making] an effort to eschew or exclude anyone," Davis adds.

As Shyu puts it to GRAMMY.com, "It's important to educate, but, at some point people have to educate themselves. We've made this model of M³. We want people to embrace that and make their own mentorship models. But at some point, don't the men and the white cis males, need to also have these conversations?

"It's more of an effort to say, 'Come along with us," Davis adds. "We're all here trying to fight this together, and we need everyone.'" This doesn't only apply to M³, but all the other organizations in their constellation trying to make jazz and creative music a fairer, more holistic place.

A Constellation Of Initiatives

Next Jazz Legacy, an apprenticeship program for women and nonbinary musicians, helmed by The New Music USA organization and Berklee Institute of Jazz & Gender Justice, is pushing for the same outcome.

"We not only have to face the facts that misogyny and sexism are still very much a part of the music industry," Terri Lyne Carrington, a GRAMMY-winning drummer and Next Jazz Legacy's artistic director, said in 2022. "We have to change the systems and patterns that have remained oppressive in order for the music to fully flourish and match how humanity is evolving."

When Kris Davis, a pianist and composer at the cutting edge of the New York scene, got the call from Carrington about Next Jazz Legacy, she felt close to tears.

"I thought, 'Wow, she's really going to make a difference. The mentors are super famous musicians,'" she tells GRAMMY.com. "And whether people know about the grant or not, they're going to see these young people's names next to these incredible mentors — and that's saying something to the community." (Today, she's on the advisory board.)

Linda May Han Oh, an Australian bassist who works in an apprenticeship role at Next Jazz Legacy, views these dovetailing initiatives as working in parallel with women's and LGBTQ+ rights writ large — including transforming gender roles and the right to vote.

"It's always been a very traditional role for a woman to be a wife, to be a mother, to stay at home while the male, the husband, works and tours and brings in the money," she tells GRAMMY.com. "And I think that in itself lends itself to inequality or inequity."

Oh impresses upon her students the importance of cultivating "your own resilience and your resourcefulness in a way that you can be as independent as you possibly can," she says. "It's a combination of grit, but also flexibility."

Also of note is jazz luminary Dee Dee Bridgewater's Woodshed Network Residency, which focuses on connecting, supporting and educating women and non-gender-conforming artists. In an interview with JazzTimes, Bridgewater's daughter and manager, Tulani, who co-founded the residency, cited "an appreciation for the gift of mentorship I’ve received at various junctures."

“I’ve tried to give back along the way,” she added. "But this opportunity created by my greatest mentor, my mother, offered a concrete and focused way to pay that forward."

Speaking with GRAMMY.com, the elder Bridgewater — a two-time GRAMMY winner — explains her unique, pragmatic approach to mentoring young women.

"I decided that I would concentrate on the business aspect of the music industry and try and give women a kind of head start for their careers," she says, "knowing that they would have all the information that they needed to have a career, to start a career, or to take the career to the next level — if they already had one started, but it was kind of faltering.

"It was born out of a kind of necessity," she continues. And if you wonder where rising musicians like saxophonist Lakecia Benjamin and bassist Amina Scott got their launchpad, thank Dee Dee Bridgewater for recognizing that necessity.

Going Global

These types of programs are far from exclusively stateside affairs. REVA Inc, a Brooklyn-based nonprofit with an aim to "develop art experiences that educate, inspire and heal people and communities," has a purview reaching as far as South Africa.

And the seed was an online hang during the pandemic, facilitated by their co-artistic director — tenor saxophonist, pianist and composer Jessica Jones, who also has run JazzGirls Day at Jazz at Lincoln Center in New York. The name? Global JazzWomenHang.

Soon, it was wholeheartedly embraced by a number of women from a South African jazz camp, Jazz Camp for Female Instrumentalists Mamelodi, and eventually hosted by one of the camp's founders, bassist and composer Sibongile Buda.

*Akhutleleng Kekwaletswe, Jessica Jones and Sibongile Buda. Photo: Leroy Nyoni*

When the pandemic made live performance impossible, Buda saw an opportunity. "[We searched] for a bigger concept of performance that could incorporate people in different countries," she tells GRAMMY.com. "And also show how the number of women has increased in all the countries that we kind of tapped into."

The online collaboration network eventually blossomed into a real-life festival in Botswana, helmed by Buda, Jones and saxophonist and music teacher Akhutleleng Kekwaletswe. A preceding one-day workshop arranged by Kekwaletswe found more than 50 girls on different instruments; the festival itself involved 24 women on stage.

"The future is very bright, That's a very common line in Botswana: 'The future is bright,' meaning that you see some hope," Kekwaletswe says. "There is a lot of positivity and positive energy towards what we are doing."

*The complete festival lineup. Photo: Nthabiseng Segoe*

Throughout the jazz ecosystem, this mission has serious wind in its sails. To say nothing of the Women in Jazz Organization (WIJO), whose membership has a significant overlap with M³ and Next Jazz Legacy. Among WIJO's mentorship class are Carrington, Caroline Davis, pianists Helen Sung and Marta Sanchez, trumpeter Bria Skonberg, and other modern greats.

"The impact that being a woman has on your pursuit of a jazz career can't be boiled down into one issue, nor should it," WIJO's founder, saxophonist Roxy Coss, told DANSR. Therein, she noted the multitude of indignities often involved: microaggressions, exclusions, discouragements, dismissals. "The fact of being a woman affects your experience entirely, and the specific ways it affects one's pursuit are often unnoticed, even by the woman herself."

This may hold true on stages, in conservatories, and in classrooms, and we've assuredly got a long way to go. But, rest assured: as this field goes, we've got our best and brightest on the case. And few who behold them on the bandstand would dare to say otherwise.

The Real Ambassadors At 60: What Dave Brubeck, Iola Brubeck & Louis Armstrong's Obscure Co-Creation Teaches Us About The Cold War, Racial Equality & God

The 2025 GRAMMYs, officially known as the 67th GRAMMY Awards, will air live on CBS and Paramount+ on Sunday, Feb. 2. Watch highlights from the 2025 GRAMMYs on live.GRAMMY.com.

The 2025 GRAMMYs telecast will be reimagined to raise funds to support wildfire relief efforts and aid music professionals impacted by the wildfires in Los Angeles. Donate to the Recording Academy's and MusiCares' Los Angeles Fire Relief Effort To Support Music Professionals.

Editor’s Note: This interview was conducted before the onset of the wildfires in Los Angeles.

Steve Cropper is still "selling energy" — putting forth what a younger generation might call blues rock "vibes" with his pals as if it were still 1970.

This ethos dates back to his time at the legendary Memphis label Stax Records, where Cropper served as a songwriter, producer, engineer and A&R. Crucially, Cropper was the guitarist in Stax's house band, Booker T. & The MGs — they of "Green Onions" fame — and backed artists including Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett, Sam & Dave, and Carla Thomas. Among his many bonafides, Cropper co-wrote Redding's "(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay."

In his post-Stax years, the two-time GRAMMY winner and nine-time nominee produced and played on sessions with Jeff Beck, Jose Feliciano, John Prine, John Cougar, and Tower Of Power. He later joined Levon Helm’s RCO All-Stars group and was among the original members in Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi's Blues Brothers band. Cropper resumed his solo career in the '80s, releasing several albums, while continuing to collaborate with leading lights like Paul Simon, Ringo Starr, Elton John and Steppenwolf.

Steve Cropper has stayed true to himself for over seven decades, thanks in no small part to advice from Stax founder Jim Stewart. "He said, 'Just play yourself and if they don't like it, they'll tell you,'" Cropper tells GRAMMY.com. "So I've been playing myself all my life and it's worked out. That's pretty cool."

At the 2025 GRAMMYs, Cropper is nominated in the Best Contemporary Blues Album Category for the aptly named Friendlytown, recorded with a mix of long-time collaborators and a few newer faces, together billed as Steve Cropper & the Midnight Hour. Friendlytown's 13 tracks are familiar, digestible and straight-ahead rockin' — the kind of tunes you'd be thrilled to hear in a local dive. Featuring ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons, Queen guitarist Brian May, singer Roger C Reale, and guitarist Tim Montana, Cropper co-wrote and co-produced all of Friendlytown with bassist Jon Tiven.

"Steve's guitar playing on the song 'Hurry Up Sundown' is probably some of his best solo work and rhythm work," Tiven says. "It's amazing that at this point in his career, he could still be creating some of the greatest music of his life. I think that's a wonderful testament to the strength of his talent."

Meet Me At The Friendlytown Trader Joe's

There was very little methodical music-making behind Friendlytown, which partially grew out of sessions Cropper put together for his 2021 album Fire It Up. "This record was just about a bunch of guys getting together and having some fun. It's just like, Let's have a blast and try to make the party come to the record, rather than the record come to the party," Tiven notes.

Cropper and Tiven had been working on songs for years with the hopes of finding friendly musicians to give them life. While some found homes, the duo sat on instrumentals for years — until Tiven ran into Billy Gibbons at Trader Joe's. When Tiven told the sharp-dressed man he was making a record with Steve Cropper, "He just lit up like a firecracker and said he'd like to bring us a song. I said, 'Well, it's only going on the record unless you play on it.' And he said, 'Well, that could be arranged.'"

Gibbons ended up on 11 tracks; Friendlytown marks the first time he and Cropper worked together in many years. The ZZ Top vocalist's influence is audible on the album, particularly the title track and Eliminator-esque "Lay It On Down."

In Session At Stax

While casual may be the name of Cropper's game these days, "it definitely wasn't 35, 40 years ago," he says. Back then (and largely before, as Cropper left the label in 1970), making music was "was very serious, and I don't even think the guys had a good time." With a laugh, Cropper recalls his best friend, the Stax bassist/MG Duck Dunn, pining for a world in which "Jim Stewart would've only smiled every now and then."  

While Cropper calls Stewart "the greatest guy I've ever met," the label head was known to be critical. "He knew if you fought for something, like a song, that it was a good song. And if you didn't fight for it, it wasn't worth nothing," Cropper says, chuckling. "He was right. I think about that all the time, but I don't use it. A songwriter could tell me how good a song they wrote is, but if I don't like it, I don't like it. I'm sorry!. I'm sure I've thrown away some good ones before." 

Read more: 1968: A Year Of Change For The World, Memphis & Stax Records

A young Cropper put up a couple of fights, and for good reason. He recalls stumping for Wilson Pickett's "Ninety-nine and a half": [Jim Stewart said] "You boys was out there woodsheddin’. That song ain't going to make it." Cropper pressed it, and Stewart relented. The track made the cut for Pickett's 1966 album The Exciting Wilson Pickett.

Another big Stax hit stayed on the shelf for nine months while Cropper and co. battled it out with Stax brass. "Finally Al Bell went to Jim and said, 'You got to put this record out. It's called ‘Knock on Wood.' And Jim says, 'Okay, but you got to use your own money,'" Cropper says. "He hated that record until it was a hit."

Reflecting on the hardest song he's ever played, Cropper quickly points to Sam and Dave's "Soul Man." But the 1967 smash isn't difficult for the reasons you might think: the guitarist had to balance a Zippo lighter on his leg during sessions and performances, which he used to mimic the song's opening horn line. "I always had to dance [when recording] with Sam and Dave, because they could hit a groove. A lot of guitar players don't know that I played with a Zippo lighter and I'd slide it," he recalls.

Cropper reportedly hated the sound and feel of new guitar strings — something, he says, is no longer the case in old age — and in a lip-smacking good tidbit of studio lore, explained how he managed his unique sound. "I carry a thing of ChapStick all the time and I would go up and down the strings; [that would] take about three months out of the string so it would sound like the rest of them."

Sittin' On A Legacy

After decades in the business, it seems as if Cropper – though ever a professional – doesn't take himself or the creative process too seriously. He jokingly shares a reccolation from a studio session during his Stax years: Once the session was finished, Cropper told the group "Damn, this sounds like a hit." "And Al Jackson said, 'Steve, they're all hits until they're released.' He's probably right."

One of Stax's reliable hitmakers was a close friend of Cropper's: Otis Redding. The two shared a deep musical bond and some shared history. Both musicians grew up on farms ("By the time I was 14, I was ready to leave the home. By the time I was 16, I was gone in my mind," Cropper notes) yet the guitarist describes Redding as "most streetwise person that I ever met. I think he just had it. It came natural to him."

Redding played guitar with one finger and you "never argued with Otis" — especially because he was never available for sessions for more than a day or two. Most Otis Redding albums, as a result, were compilations from different sessions.

"I remember we cut 'I Can't Turn You Loose' in 10 minutes," Cropper says. "[When we recorded] Otis Blue, we had everybody come back at 1 [a.m.] -- after they did their gig and they went home and had their shower – so we could cut it."

Cropper knew that  "(Sittin' On) The Dock Of The Bay" — arguably Redding's biggest hit, and Cropper's first GRAMMY win —  was a hit. "You know why I knew it was a hit? Because we had Otis the longest I'd had him; for two weeks."

The gentle lull of "Sittin'" was a radical departure from Redding's Southern soul bombast, and perhaps a sign of what was to come if the singer hadn't died tragically in a plane crash. "That one song, we searched for a long time. We call it crossover music; so it could go either way:, R&B, pop, whatever. That was the first one we ever had," Cropper says.

There's Always A Catch

Steve Cropper is still going strong at 83 years old. He reports that he enjoyed HBO's recent Stax Records docuseries, and has an unfinished instrumentals album in the can. He hasn't time for regrets, only dreams, but the name of the one person Cropper wishes he had worked with fires off like lightning: Tina Tuner.

Cropper saw the late legend three times. "I really did admire Tina. She was the closest person to Otis, I think, in the business. It's the yeller, screamer, but everybody loves their music. She was so good, it didn't matter how it was she's yelling and screaming," he says.

Tina Turner's loudest albums still have melody and something "people will walk away humming" — the very thing Cropper loved about  Stax records. "We were selling groove and all, rather than the music," Cropper says of his work with the MGs. "We don't care about the music. We just cared about melody and what's in the simplicity of the song."

Editor's Note: This article was updated with a new photo and YouTube videos on Dec. 16, 2024.

When it comes to holiday music, you can never go wrong with the tried-and-true classics.

Who doesn't love Nat "King" Cole's "The Christmas Song," Elvis Presley's "Blue Christmas," Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You," Charles M. Schulz's GRAMMY-nominated A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, or any new version of a festive favorite?

Even so, it's always good to get out of one's comfort zone. With that in mind, unwrap these 12 outside-the-box Christmas songs, spanning rock to rap and featuring everything from refreshing spins on the familiar to unexpected holiday thrills.

Read More: New Christmas Songs For 2024: Listen To 50 Tracks From Pentatonix, Ed Sheeran, LISA & More

This firsthand account of spending the most joyous holiday locked up and separated from the one you love offers a different kind of longing than the average lonesome Christmas tune. In signature John Prine style, "Christmas In Prison" contains plenty of romantic wit ("I dream of her always, even when I don't dream) and comedic hyperbole ("Her heart is as big as this whole goddamn jail"), with plenty of pining and hope to spare.

"Christmas In Prison" appeared on Prine's third album, 1973's Sweet Revenge, and again as a live version on his 1994 album, A John Prine Christmas, which makes for perfect further off-beat holiday exploration.

When it comes to gloriously tasty six-string instrumentals, no one does it better than GRAMMY-winning Texan Eric Johnson. For his take on this timeless Christmas carol, the "Cliffs Of Dover" guitarist intermingles acoustic-based lines, sublime clean guitar passages and Hendrix-y double-stops with his trademark creamy violin-like Strat lines. The result is a sonic equivalent on par with the majesty of the Rockefeller Christmas tree. (For more dazzling holiday guitar tomfoolery, look into the album it's featured on, 1997's Merry Axemas.)

Who doesn't want a large semiaquatic mammal for the holidays? For then-10-year-old child star Gayla Peevey, not only did she score with the catchy tune, she also got her wish.

The 1953 novelty hit, written by John Rox, rocketed up the pop charts and led to a fundraising campaign to buy Peevey an actual hippo for Christmas. Children donated their dimes to the cause, and the Oklahoma City native got her hippo, named Mathilda, which she donated to the Oklahoma City Zoo.

The song itself features plodding brass instrumentals and unforgettable lyrics such as, "Mom says a hippo would eat me up but then/ Teacher says a hippo is a vegetarian." It seems Peevey still has a fond legacy with the hippo activist community — she was on hand in 2017 when the Oklahoma City Zoo acquired a pygmy hippopotamus.

In a contemplative mood this Christmas? Try getting into the holiday spirit by way of meditating on the true meaning of the season with this brash, uptempo Southern California crust punk tune.

Now the best-known song from the Vandals' 1996 Christmas album of the same name, "Oi To The World!" remained a relatively obscure track by the Huntington Beach punkers until it was covered by a rising pop/ska crossover band from nearby Anaheim, Calif., in 1997. (Perhaps you have heard of them — they were called No Doubt.) Ever since, the song has been a mainstay of the Vandals' live sets, and they have also played the album Oi To The World! in its entirety every year since its release at their annual Winter Formal show in Anaheim, now in its 29th year.

Though it's best known from OutKast's 1994 debut album, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, the Christmas version of the track "Player's Ball" was released earlier on A LaFace Family Christmas, an L.A. Reid-led project to introduce new acts. The then-young Atlanta rapper duo took a Southern hip-hop spin on the season, which can come across as a little irreverent, but at least they're honest: "Ain't no chimneys in the ghetto so I won't be hangin' my socks on no chimneys." Though some people may not find it cheerful, OutKast's season's greetings give "a little somethin' for the players out there hustlin'."

You'd be hard-pressed to find a more heartbreaking Christmas story than this Tom Waits' masterpiece from 1978's Blue Valentine. "Charlie, I'm pregnant and living on 9th Street," begins the Christmas card narrative in which a woman writes to an old flame, reporting how much better things are going since she quit drugs and alcohol and found a trombone-playing husband.

Waits' signature early career piano-plinking and tall-tale-storytelling weaves through a dream world of hair grease and used car lots, even sneaking in a Little Anthony And The Imperials reference. In the end, our narrator comes clean with the sobering lyric, "I don't have a husband, he don't play the trombone" before pleading, "I need to borrow money to pay this lawyer and Charlie hey, I'll be eligible for parole come Valentine's Day." For the uninitiated, this is the off-beat genius of GRAMMY winner Waits at his finest.

Though they took some lumps in their '80s hair-metal heyday, few would dare deny Winger's talent and musicianship. Surely on display here, frontman Kip Winger (a GRAMMY-nominated classical musician) and his bandmates begin with a traditional unplugged reading of the Franz Xaver Gruber-penned holiday chestnut, complete with four-part harmony.

But then it gets really interesting: the boys get "funky" with an inside-out musical pivot that fuses percussive rhythmic accents, pentatonic-based acoustic riffing, Winger's gravely vocals, and some choice bluesy soloing (and high-pitched vocal responses) courtesy of lead guitarist Reb Beach.

With lyrics that include "I know I should have thought twice before I kissed her" in the opening, you know you're in for a sleigh ride like none other. It's therefore no surprise that Cyndi Lauper and Swedish rock band the Hives' unconventional Christmas duel describes many marital hiccups that might make some blush.

Yet, the raucous duet somehow comes out on a high note, concluding, "We should both just be glad/And spend this Christmas together." The 2008 track was the brainchild of the Hives, who always wanted to do a song with Lauper. "This is a Christmas song whose eggnog has been spiked with acid, and whose definition of holiday cheer comes with a complimentary kick below the belt," wrote Huffington Post in 2013. "It's also an absolute riot."

Leave it to LCD Soundsystem's producer/frontman James Murphy to pen a holiday song about the depressing side of the season. "If your world is feeling small/ There's no one on the phone/ You feel close enough to call," he sings, tapping into that seasonal weirdness that can creep up, especially as everything around you is incessant smiles, warmth and cheer, and pumpkin-spice lattes. While he doesn't shy away from examining the depressing side of surviving the holiday season as an aging 20-, 30-, 40-something, Murphy does at least give a glimmer of hope to grab onto, transient and fleeting though it may be, as he refrains, "But I'm still coming home to you."

As Snoop Dogg declares, "It's Christmas time and my rhyme's steady bumpin'." This track from the 1996 album Christmas On Death Row lets you know why "Santa Claus Goes Straight To The Ghetto." Church food, love between people, and happiness stand out as Christmas is "time to get together and give all you got; you got food, good moods and what's better than together with your people." Love in the hard hood might have to watch itself, but the various artists of Death Row contagiously testify to abundant love and seasonal joy.

Bypassing the urge to write new material on their rocking Christmas album, 2006's A Twisted Christmas, Twister Sister instead took the most recognizable holiday classics in the book and made them faster, louder and more aggressive. The result — which, to date, equate to the group's seventh and final album — is a supercharged concept collection of songs such as "Silver Bells," "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" and "Deck The Halls" bludgeoned by chainsaw guitar riffs, thundering drums and lead singer Dee Snider's soaring screams. This unusual combination makes A Twisted Christmas the perfect soundtrack for any child of the '80s still hoping to tick off the neighbors this holiday season.

In anticipation of the 2025 NBA All-Star Game in San Francisco, P-Lo breathes new life into T.W.D.Y.'s classic "Players Holiday." Featuring Saweetie, Larry June, Kamaiyah, LaRussell, G-Eazy, thuy, and YMTK, the track celebrates Bay Area culture with its infectious energy and hometown pride. With its dynamic lineup and energetic vibe, "Players Holiday '25" is a love letter to the region's sound and legacy that bridges hip-hop and basketball culture.

This article features contributions from Nate Hertweck, Tim McPhate, Renée Fabian, Brian Haack, Philip Merrill, Nina Frazer and Taylor Weatherby.

Editor's note: This article was updated to include the latest information about Kendrick Lamar's 2024 album release 'GNX,' and up-to-date GRAMMY wins and nominations with additional reporting by Nina Frazier.

When the world crowns you the king of a genre as competitive as rap, your presence — and lack thereof — is palpable. After a five-year hiatus, Kendrick Lamar declaratively stomped back on stage with his fifth studio album, Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers, to explain why the crown no longer fits him.

Two years later, Lamar circles back to celebrate the west on 2024's GNX, a 12-track release that revels in the root of his love for hip-hop and California culture, from the lowriders to the rappers that laid claim to the golden state.

“My baby boo, you either heal n—s or you kill n—s/ Both is true, it take some tough skin just to deal with you” Lamar raps on "gloria" featuring SZA, a track that opines on his relationship with the genre.

The Compton-born rapper (who was born Kendrick Lamar Duckworth) wasn't always championed as King Kendrick. In hip-hop, artists have to earn that moniker, and Lamar's enthroning occurred in 2013 when he delivered a now-infamous verse on Big Sean's "Control."

"I'm Makaveli's offspring, I'm the King of New York, King of the Coast; one hand I juggle 'em both," Lamar raps before name-dropping some of the top rappers of the time, from Drake to J.Cole.

Whether you've been a fan of Lamar since before his crown-snatching verse or you find yourself in need of a crash course on the 37-year-old rapper's illustrious career, GRAMMY.com answers nine questions that will paint the picture of Lamar's more than decade-long reign.

Who Discovered Kendrick Lamar?

Due to the breakthrough success of his Aftermath Entertainment debut (good kid, m.A.A.d city), most people attribute Kendrick Lamar's discovery to fellow Compton legend Dr. Dre. But seven years before Dre's label came calling, Anthony "Top Dawg" Tiffith saw potential in a 16-year-old rapper by the name of K.Dot.

Lamar's first mixtape in 2004 was enough for Tiffith's Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE) to offer the aspiring rapper a deal with the label in 2005. However, Lamar would later learn that Tiffith's impact on his life dates back to multiple encounters between his father and the TDE founder, which Lamar raps about in his 2017 track "DUCKWORTH."

How Many Albums Has Kendrick Lamar Released?

Kendrick Lamar has released six studio albums: Section.80 (2011), Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City (2012), To Pimp a Butterfly (2015) DAMN. (2017),Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers (2022), and GNX (2024). Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City, To Pimp a Butterfly and DAMN. received both Rap Album Of The Year and Album Of The Year GRAMMY nominations. 

What Is Kendrick Lamar's Most Popular Song?

Across the board, it's "HUMBLE." The 2017 track is Lamar's only solo No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 (he also reached No. 1 status with Taylor Swift on their remix of her 1989 hit "Bad Blood"), and as of press time, "HUMBLE." is also his most-streamed song on Spotify and YouTube.

How Many GRAMMYs Has Kendrick Lamar Won?

As of November 2024, Kendrick Lamar has won 17 GRAMMYs and has received 57 GRAMMY nominations overall, solidifying his place as one of the most nominated artists in GRAMMY history and the second-most nominated rapper of all time, behind Jay-Z. Five of Lamar's 17 GRAMMY wins are tied to DAMN., which also earned Lamar the status of becoming the first rapper ever to win a Pulitzer Prize.

His most recent wins include three awards at the 2023 GRAMMYs, which included two for his album Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers, and Best Rap Performance for "The Hillbillies" with Baby Keem. 

Does Kendrick Lamar Have Any Famous Relatives?

He has two: Rapper Baby Keem and former Los Angeles Lakers star Nick Young are both cousins of his.

Lamar appeared on three tracks — "family ties," "range brothers" and "vent" — from Keem's debut album, The Melodic Blue. Keem then returned the favor for Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers, featuring on "Savior (Interlude)" and "Savior" as well as receiving production and writing credits on "N95" and "Die Hard."

Read More: Meet The First-Time GRAMMY Nominee: Baby Keem On Inspiring Rap's Next Generation, Why "Producer Artists" Are The Best & The Likelihood Of A Kendrick Lamar Collab Album

Why Did Kendrick Lamar Wear A Crown Of Thorns?

Lamar can be seen sporting a crown of thorns on the Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers album cover. He has sported the look for multiple performances since the project's release.

Dave Free described the striking headgear as, "a godly representation of hood philosophies told from a digestible youthful lens."

Holy symbolism and the blurred line between kings and gods are themes Lamar revisits often on Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers. He uses lines like "Kendrick made you think about it, but he is not your savior" and songs like "Mirror" to reject the unforeseen, God-like expectations that came with his King of Hip-Hop status.

According to Vogue, the Tiffany & Co. designed crown features 8,000 cobblestone micro pave diamonds and took over 1,300 hours of work by four craftsmen to construct.

Why Did Kendrick Lamar Leave TDE?

After five albums, four mixtapes, one compilation project, an EP, and a GRAMMY-nominated Black Panther: The Album, Kendrick Lamar and Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE) confirmed that Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers was the Compton rapper's last project under the iconic West Coast label. 

According to Lamar, his departure was about growth as opposed to any internal troubles. "May the Most High continue to use Top Dawg as a vessel for candid creators. As I continue to pursue my life's calling," Lamar wrote on his website in August 2021. "There's beauty in completion."

TDE president Punch expressed a similar sentiment in an interview with Mic. "We watched him grow from a teenager up into an established grown man, a businessman, and one of the greatest artists of all time," he said. "So it's time to move on and try new things and venture out."

Before Lamar's official exit from TDE, he launched a new venture called pgLang — a multi-disciplinary service company for creators, co-founded with longtime collaborator Dave Free — in 2020. The young company has already collaborated with Cash App, Converse and Louis Vuitton.

Has Kendrick Lamar Ever Performed at The Super Bowl?

Yes, Kendrick Lamar performed in the halftime show for Super Bowl LVI in Los Angeles in 2022, alongside fellow rap legends Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg and Eminem, as well as R&B icon Mary J. Blige. Anderson .Paak and 50 Cent also made special appearances during the star-studded performance. As if performing at the Super Bowl in your home city wasn't enough, the Compton rapper also got to watch his home team, the Los Angeles Rams, hoist the Lombardi trophy at the end of the night.

Three years after his first Super Bowl halftime performance, Lamar will return to headline the Super Bowl LIX halftime show on Feb. 9, 2025 — just one week after the 2025 GRAMMYs — at the Caesars Superdome in New Orleans. 

Is Kendrick Lamar On Tour?

Yes. Kendrick Lamar is currently scheduled to hit the road with SZA on the Grand National Tour beginning in May 2025. Lamar concluded The Big Steppers Tour in 2022, where he was joined by pgLang artists Baby Keem and Tanna Leone. The tour included a four-show homecoming at L.A.'s Crypto.com Arena in September 2022, followed by performances in Europe,Australia, and New Zealand through late 2022. 

Currently, there are no upcoming tour dates scheduled, but fans should check back for updates following the release of GNX.

Lakecia Benjamin didn't call her last album Pursuance just because it's a Coltrane tune. Sure, that guest-stuffed 2020 album paid tribute to John and Alice — but also to Benjamin's indomitable doggedness.

And over Zoom — where she looks crisp and prosperous in futuristic, trapezoidal glasses and a chunky, ornate gold necklace — Benjamin's tenacity is palpable.

"You've got to just say, Until the day I die, I'm not going to stop," Benjamin declares to GRAMMY.com. "I only have one gig today. Okay, tomorrow I'll have two. The next day I'll have three, and I'm not going to leave. I'm not going to stop. Oh, I don't have a record deal. I'm not stopping."

So much could have tripped her up for good: The jam sessions she was laughed out of, with a dismissal to "Go learn changes." The epic cat-herding session for Pursuance, which could have fallen apart completely. The car accident she suffered in 2021, on the way home from a gig, which could have easily been fatal.

Benjamin just wanted 2023's Phoenix to be a worthy entry in her growing discography. The jazz saxophonist didn't have GRAMMY dreams; she didn't even presume it would be more successful than Pursuance.

Now, Phoenix is nominated for three golden gramophones at the 2024 GRAMMYs: Best Instrumental Album, Best Jazz Performance ("Basquiat") and Best Instrumental Composition ("Amerikkan Skin").

"I was just trying to tell my story about what happened to me, what's continuously happening to me," Benjamin says of Phoenix, which was produced by four-time GRAMMY-winning drummer and composer Terri Lyne Carrington. "Just trying to give people an idea of what it's like to be resilient, what it's like to not give up, what it's like to fight.

Read on for an interview with Benjamin about her journey to the GRAMMYs, and where she unpacks her personal dictum, which should apply to creatives the world over: "Keep going. Keep going. Keep going."

This interview has been edited for clarity.

What role have the GRAMMYs historically played in your life?

I remember being a little kid, watching the GRAMMYs and all. As a musician, at least in America, it's the highest award you can get.

It's something that you dream about. You dream about being nominated. You dream about walking on that stage. You dream about being in that audience, seeing your other peers and superstars performing. I personally dreamed about the red carpet.

Are there past jazz nominees that you found super inspiring?

All of them, really. Chick Corea, Christian McBride, Ron Carter, Terri Lyne, Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter. There are just so many.

I first interviewed you for JazzTimes about your album-length tribute to John and Alice Coltrane, Pursuance. What was the underlying theme of Phoenix?

Just the idea that things are possible. You don't have to get things done in a certain timeline, in a certain frame. You just have to keep going, with a lot of determination. That was my goal.

I did not think that the reception would have been bigger than Pursuance. There's no way I saw that coming. It's been a really wild rollercoaster year, for sure.

Working with Terri Lyne Carrington was a huge step. It seems like you were swinging for something bigger. What was that thing?

She was actually the catalyst for the whole thing. I picked her before I even had the music — everything — because I wanted someone that could get the best out of me. Someone who's going to tell me the truth, tell me when it's not good enough, tell me what's not possible.

I felt that the guests that I have picked in mind — and they had already agreed to the project — were in her sphere of people that she's worked with. I felt she could understand my dedication in this project to highlight women musicians, and to highlight [how] women musicians have had to climb the ladder, and sometimes they fall back down and climb back up again.

I felt that her story is a true testament of that. I just felt she embodied where I am right now, and what I'm trying to do.

Terri Lyne commands such a musical universe. You could have made Phoenix with so many different configurations and ensembles. What made these particular folks perfect to tell your story?

The fact that [pianist] Patrice Rushen started as a jazz musician, moved into the pop world, super megastar, back into the jazz world, back into the trenches, still teaching and still educating.

Angela Davis — a huge iconic figure — had her own adversities. They all represent in their own stories the idea of persevering, the idea to keep going, but also doing that while operating at an extremely high level.

As a musician myself, there's always self-doubt about the past. I wish I did this when I was younger, I wish I made this choice, I wish I pushed harder, blah, blah. But it took until my thirties to realize that I have all this life to live. I don't have to cram everything into the now and beat myself up. It seems like you had a similar moment of self-realization.

I guess I still have those struggles as well too. I think we all do, but I think you start to realize you're alive right now.

You can't control what you did 10 years ago. You can't control what you did five years ago. You can only control what's happening right now, and you could sit around and sit in that regret and doubt, and that becomes your story. Or, you could choose to get up and decide, I'm going to make a new reality for myself. I'm going to brand myself, and I'm going to try to accomplish the things that I'm dreaming about.

Why dream about, If I had known this 10 years ago, I would've did this? But it's right now, you know it. You can go ahead forward and try to get there. You don't have to listen to other people's limitations, the part of their life and their reality. But it's not a part of yours.

We're all on Jazz Instagram. We see everyone competing over gigs and vibing each other out. It seems like you're trying to get out of that rat race and be like Terri Lyne, where it's a whole life — a continuum.

That's what I started thinking. Even as a bandleader, everyone's in this pool, crabs in a barrel trying to drag each other down, waiting for a call, waiting to say, "I have more gigs," waiting to say, "I have more GRAMMYs," and I decided the best thing I could do is to take my future into my own hands.

If I become a bandleader, if I'm making the calls, I'm the one doing this. I have a little bit more control, and then I can choose to say, You know what? I'm going to try to live out my dreams, and if it doesn't work out for me, I can die knowing I gave it my all. I did everything I can to get the things I want in life.

And to me, that's enough — if I know that I've tried the very best I can to do something.

What helped you get out of that tunnel-vision mindset?

I wouldn't say I'm all the way out of it, because those thoughts creep in; you're programmed this way. But I do think you have to just say, There's no other road I can take. I'm going straight. I'm not going through the sewer. If there's a roadblock, I'm not going to the left. I'm going straight down this road.

When I did Pursuance [I thought], You know what? I got all 45 of these cats up in here. I did it myself, on my dime, on my time, the way I wanted to do it.

After that, there's immense pressure. What's going to happen with Phoenix? Is it going to be good enough? Is it going to be this? And to know I was able to tell my own story. I was able to get these guests the same way, figure it out, get this music together and get it together, lets me know that I may be crawling to get there, but I'm getting there.

I'm moving forward, and I'm doing it in a way that I'm getting better as an artist. I'm not just getting more, I guess, accolades and noteworthy my actual talent is because I'm choosing to put the music first.

Here's a spicy question. How have people treated you differently now that you're a first-time GRAMMY nominee?

It's only happened recently, but it is drastically changing. I will say that. There are some people that this whole year, the last two years, it started to seriously change. There are people that went from thinking, I'm just an ambitious girl out there, "Good luck. She's trying her best," to taking me a little bit more seriously when I have these [nominations]; they're not dreams anymore. They're like, "She's making things happen."

Where are you at in your development as a saxophonist? What's the status of you and the horn?

I've got a long way to go, but you spend three years playing Coltrane, you'll definitely expedite the process of: at each gig I'm forced to be at a certain level, minimum.

I think I'm making some progress — and we'll have to battle that out with Terri Lyne, but I think I'm getting better, and that's the most important thing. I wish I could expedite that a little faster, but these albums are just pictures of where I am at the time.

John and Alice were such outstanding models for how to live a creative life.

It's inspiring. I tell you that. For everyone out there that is wondering how to keep pushing forward, how not to give up, every time you get a minor victory, that's another example of going the right way.

My first two albums were projects that were more, let's say, ear friendly. You would think people would gravitate to that more because they understand that music is more contemporary, and they [performed] decently.

But then I come out with this Coltrane project and it does exponentially better, and that's being true to myself, then I do another project that's even deeper into the pool of what it's supposed to be, and then has even more success.

I just think that we got to spend less time trying to find these gimmicks, and people really respond when something is authentic, when it's a live show and they see you pouring your soul out there authentically, that's what gravitates them — not trying to find a way to get over on them.

"Get over on them." What do you mean by that?

I feel like that's what a gimmick is. If I say, I'm going to hold this note for 10 minutes because the audience will really love it. I'm trying to find a way to convince them that this is good, this is cool.

I'm like, Let me dress up in this outfit, because this'll convince them. Rather than just coming out and just being like, This is who I am. This is what it is. And putting it all on the stage, and then they can see authentically, This is who I'm voting for.

Do you see a lot of charlatans out there in the jazz scene, just trying to dazzle with cheap tricks?

I will say that I pray for humanity to be more authentic.

Terri Lyne Carrington Is Making Strides For Inclusion And Mentorship In Jazz. And You Can Hear All Of Them In Her Sound.