Pub Date : 2020-10-01DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.3.0383
Victoria Aschheim
{"title":"The Sound of a Superpower: Musical Americanism and the Cold War by Emily Abrams Ansari (review)","authors":"Victoria Aschheim","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.3.0383","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.3.0383","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"383 - 387"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43021260","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2020-08-28DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0240
Kate Galloway
In the opening scenes of the 2010 film Easy A, Emma Stone’s Olive arrives home from school to find an envelope with a card that just arrived in the mail from her grandmother. The cover of the card reads “To My Granddaughter. You’re My . . .” and on the inside, “Pocket Full of Sunshine!” completes the greeting. A five-dollar bill falls loose, and overly cheerful “Pocket Full of Sunshine” plays without warning. Closing the card quickly in disgust prompted by the song selection, Olive exclaims, “Worst song ever.” Olive gives the card a second chance, and her feelings toward the song shift as she spends an intimate weekend at home playing (and replaying) musical greeting card karaoke. Upon repeat replay, Olive performs along to the card while painting her nails, grooming her dog, dancing along to the track in her room, and even singing along in the shower. “Pocket Full of Sunshine” soundtracks her weekend until the limited-run battery is drained late Sunday night midway through her final power-ballad-styled bedroom performance.1 Musical greeting cards are performative, they function musically through their instrumentality, and they invite participatory responses from their recipient. When you receive a greeting card that has the ability to play a sound effect or a snippet of music, each time you open the card, you are a participant in a performance. The card doesn’t play until the recipient opens it. While some musical greeting cards are thicker in order
在2010年电影《轻松A》的开场白中,艾玛·斯通饰演的奥利弗放学回家后发现了一个信封,里面有一张刚从祖母那里寄来的卡片。卡片的封面写着“致我的孙女。你是我的……”,里面写着“口袋里充满阳光!”完成了问候。一张五美元的钞票松动了,过于欢快的《口袋里充满阳光》毫无征兆地播放。在歌曲选择的提示下,Olive厌恶地迅速合上卡片,喊道:“有史以来最糟糕的歌曲。”Olive给了卡片第二次机会,当她在家度过一个亲密的周末,播放(并重播)音乐贺卡卡拉OK时,她对这首歌的感觉发生了变化。在重复回放时,Olive一边画指甲,一边给她的狗梳毛,在房间里跟着曲目跳舞,甚至在淋浴时跟着唱歌。“Pocket Full of Sunshine”为她的周末配乐,直到周日深夜,在她最后一场充满力量的民谣风格的卧室表演的中途,有限电量的电池耗尽。1音乐贺卡是表演性的,它们通过其工具发挥音乐作用,并邀请接受者参与其中。当你收到一张可以播放音效或音乐片段的贺卡时,每次打开贺卡,你都是表演的参与者。只有收件人打开卡片,卡片才会播放。而有些音乐贺卡则按顺序较厚
{"title":"Musicking Fan Culture and Circulating the Materiality of Taylor Swift Musical Greeting Cards on YouTube","authors":"Kate Galloway","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0240","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0240","url":null,"abstract":"In the opening scenes of the 2010 film Easy A, Emma Stone’s Olive arrives home from school to find an envelope with a card that just arrived in the mail from her grandmother. The cover of the card reads “To My Granddaughter. You’re My . . .” and on the inside, “Pocket Full of Sunshine!” completes the greeting. A five-dollar bill falls loose, and overly cheerful “Pocket Full of Sunshine” plays without warning. Closing the card quickly in disgust prompted by the song selection, Olive exclaims, “Worst song ever.” Olive gives the card a second chance, and her feelings toward the song shift as she spends an intimate weekend at home playing (and replaying) musical greeting card karaoke. Upon repeat replay, Olive performs along to the card while painting her nails, grooming her dog, dancing along to the track in her room, and even singing along in the shower. “Pocket Full of Sunshine” soundtracks her weekend until the limited-run battery is drained late Sunday night midway through her final power-ballad-styled bedroom performance.1 Musical greeting cards are performative, they function musically through their instrumentality, and they invite participatory responses from their recipient. When you receive a greeting card that has the ability to play a sound effect or a snippet of music, each time you open the card, you are a participant in a performance. The card doesn’t play until the recipient opens it. While some musical greeting cards are thicker in order","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"240 - 261"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-08-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"42306606","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2020-08-28DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0217
Paula Harper
On March 11, 2011, popular internet humor blog the Daily What published a post containing a single YouTube video. The video’s static thumbnail evoked placid suburban domesticity: a medium close-up of a white adolescent girl smiling widely, framed against a background of green foliage. This post, with its innocuous image—seemingly suitable for advertising home insurance or back-to-school supplies—was inexplicably and provocatively captioned “Where Is Your God Now of the Day: I am no longer looking forward to the weekend.”1 Prior to the Daily What posting, the video had received relatively little online viewership. But just a few weeks later, on March 30, it had edged out the music video to Justin Bieber’s “Baby” to achieve the dubious distinction of the most “disliked” video on the YouTube platform.2 The video in question was “Rebecca Black—Friday,” one of the most infamous viral videos of the early 2010s.3 In the video, over the course of three minutes and forty-seven seconds, singer and central figure Rebecca Black narrates and moves through believably mundane situations— a schoolgirl eagerly anticipating the weekend as she completes her morning routine and commute, to a Friday night party full of friends.
{"title":"Receiving, Remixing, Recuperating \"Rebecca Black—Friday\"","authors":"Paula Harper","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0217","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0217","url":null,"abstract":"On March 11, 2011, popular internet humor blog the Daily What published a post containing a single YouTube video. The video’s static thumbnail evoked placid suburban domesticity: a medium close-up of a white adolescent girl smiling widely, framed against a background of green foliage. This post, with its innocuous image—seemingly suitable for advertising home insurance or back-to-school supplies—was inexplicably and provocatively captioned “Where Is Your God Now of the Day: I am no longer looking forward to the weekend.”1 Prior to the Daily What posting, the video had received relatively little online viewership. But just a few weeks later, on March 30, it had edged out the music video to Justin Bieber’s “Baby” to achieve the dubious distinction of the most “disliked” video on the YouTube platform.2 The video in question was “Rebecca Black—Friday,” one of the most infamous viral videos of the early 2010s.3 In the video, over the course of three minutes and forty-seven seconds, singer and central figure Rebecca Black narrates and moves through believably mundane situations— a schoolgirl eagerly anticipating the weekend as she completes her morning routine and commute, to a Friday night party full of friends.","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"217 - 239"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-08-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"45524434","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2020-08-28DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0131
K. Goldschmitt
In July 2017 The Verge reported that popular streaming music service Spotify was employing a handful of musicians to produce over fifty tracks to fill out the company’s “Peaceful Piano,” “Calm Vibes,” and “Music for Concentration” in-house playlists.1 Other news outlets soon followed suit with articles such as “Are Spotify’s ‘Fake Artists’ Any Good?” and “Spotify Is Accused of Creating Fake Artists—but What Is a Fake Artist?”2 Since 2013 Spotify has featured playlists that the company curates for users throughout the platform as part of the company’s branding. They are often the first thing that a user sees when opening the app and also appear in searches and in recommendations based on search results. They range widely from influential lists based on genre (e.g., “Rap Caviar”) to innocuous lists based on time of day, season, or mood (e.g., “Throwback Thursday” and “Late Night Vibes”). These playlists are so popular, in fact, that many in the record industry view placement on them as the equivalent of being featured on a top terrestrial radio show in the late twentieth century.3 Like prominent placement on a top radio station, placement on a popular playlist translates to immediate income via increased exposure and listening royalties, especially important factors for middle-class and struggling musicians. The artists named as “fake” by various music news outlets had no internet presence apart from Spotify, with vague, abstract artist logos
2017年7月,The Verge报道称,流行的流媒体音乐服务Spotify雇佣了少数音乐人制作了50多首曲目,以填充该公司的“和平钢琴”、“平静的Vibes”和“专注音乐”内部播放列表“Spotify被指控制造假艺人,但什么是假艺人?”2自2013年以来,Spotify一直在为整个平台的用户策划播放列表,作为公司品牌的一部分。它们通常是用户打开应用程序时看到的第一件事,也会出现在基于搜索结果的搜索和推荐中。它们的范围很广,从基于流派的有影响力的列表(例如“说唱鱼子酱”)到基于一天中的时间、季节或情绪的无害列表(例如,“Throwback Thursday”和“Late Night Vibes”)。事实上,这些播放列表非常受欢迎,以至于唱片业的许多人认为,在它们上的位置相当于在20世纪末的顶级地面广播节目中出现。3就像在顶级广播电台上的突出位置一样,在受欢迎的播放列表上的位置通过增加曝光率和收听版税转化为直接收入,对于中产阶级和苦苦挣扎的音乐家来说尤其重要。被各种音乐新闻媒体称为“赝品”的艺术家除了Spotify之外,没有任何互联网存在,他们有模糊、抽象的艺术家标志
{"title":"The Long History of the 2017 Spotify \"Fake Music\" Scandal","authors":"K. Goldschmitt","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0131","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0131","url":null,"abstract":"In July 2017 The Verge reported that popular streaming music service Spotify was employing a handful of musicians to produce over fifty tracks to fill out the company’s “Peaceful Piano,” “Calm Vibes,” and “Music for Concentration” in-house playlists.1 Other news outlets soon followed suit with articles such as “Are Spotify’s ‘Fake Artists’ Any Good?” and “Spotify Is Accused of Creating Fake Artists—but What Is a Fake Artist?”2 Since 2013 Spotify has featured playlists that the company curates for users throughout the platform as part of the company’s branding. They are often the first thing that a user sees when opening the app and also appear in searches and in recommendations based on search results. They range widely from influential lists based on genre (e.g., “Rap Caviar”) to innocuous lists based on time of day, season, or mood (e.g., “Throwback Thursday” and “Late Night Vibes”). These playlists are so popular, in fact, that many in the record industry view placement on them as the equivalent of being featured on a top terrestrial radio show in the late twentieth century.3 Like prominent placement on a top radio station, placement on a popular playlist translates to immediate income via increased exposure and listening royalties, especially important factors for middle-class and struggling musicians. The artists named as “fake” by various music news outlets had no internet presence apart from Spotify, with vague, abstract artist logos","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"131 - 152"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-08-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"47868763","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2020-08-28DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0176
T. Johnson
In early 2017 Chance the Rapper was on top of the world. He won three Grammy Awards, including Best New Artist, Best Rap Album, and Best Rap Performance, all for his freely distributed, independently released, stylistically eclectic mixtape, Coloring Book. Driven entirely by social media, touring, and streaming services, his wins seemed to embody the utopian potential of the music industry’s ever-increasing reliance on streaming to mediate popular music consumption. The Grammy website lauded Chance as the first “streaming-exclusive” artist to win an award, and his successes appeared to benefit from the liberational, decentralizing potential of novel digital distribution practices.1 This utopian vision was recently rearticulated by Daniel Ek, cofounder of Spotify, in an open letter accompanying the company’s official registration for public offering on the New York Stock Exchange. Filed with Spotify’s SEC registration documents on February 28, 2018, Ek’s letter extols his company’s purported boundary-erasing capabilities for both listeners and musicians. “In this new world,” he proudly proclaims, “music has no borders. . . . We’re working to democratize the industry and connect all of us, across the world, in a shared culture that expands our horizons.”2 Concurrent public and critical discourses similarly note a dissolution of popular music’s generic borders, often reaching the seemingly logical conclusion that, in a time when so many musicians create
{"title":"Chance the Rapper, Spotify, and Musical Categorization in the 2010s","authors":"T. Johnson","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0176","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0176","url":null,"abstract":"In early 2017 Chance the Rapper was on top of the world. He won three Grammy Awards, including Best New Artist, Best Rap Album, and Best Rap Performance, all for his freely distributed, independently released, stylistically eclectic mixtape, Coloring Book. Driven entirely by social media, touring, and streaming services, his wins seemed to embody the utopian potential of the music industry’s ever-increasing reliance on streaming to mediate popular music consumption. The Grammy website lauded Chance as the first “streaming-exclusive” artist to win an award, and his successes appeared to benefit from the liberational, decentralizing potential of novel digital distribution practices.1 This utopian vision was recently rearticulated by Daniel Ek, cofounder of Spotify, in an open letter accompanying the company’s official registration for public offering on the New York Stock Exchange. Filed with Spotify’s SEC registration documents on February 28, 2018, Ek’s letter extols his company’s purported boundary-erasing capabilities for both listeners and musicians. “In this new world,” he proudly proclaims, “music has no borders. . . . We’re working to democratize the industry and connect all of us, across the world, in a shared culture that expands our horizons.”2 Concurrent public and critical discourses similarly note a dissolution of popular music’s generic borders, often reaching the seemingly logical conclusion that, in a time when so many musicians create","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"176 - 196"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-08-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"45820473","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2020-08-28DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0197
Blake Durham
To the administrators, developers, moderators, team members, interviewers, uploaders, downloaders, seeders, musicians, designers, archivists, and historians who contributed countless thousands of hours of voluntary effort: our library could not have existed had you not been willing to build it piece by piece. —@whatcd.Twitter Post, November 18, 2016, https://twitter.com/whatcd/status/799751019294965760
对于管理员、开发者、版主、团队成员、采访者、上传者、下载者、种子者、音乐家、设计师、档案管理员和历史学家,你们贡献了无数小时的自愿努力:如果不是你们一点一滴地努力,我们的图书馆就不会存在。-@whatcd。Twitter Post, 2016年11月18日,https://twitter.com/whatcd/status/799751019294965760
{"title":"Circulatory Maintenance: CThe Entailments of Participation in Digital Music Platforms","authors":"Blake Durham","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0197","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0197","url":null,"abstract":"To the administrators, developers, moderators, team members, interviewers, uploaders, downloaders, seeders, musicians, designers, archivists, and historians who contributed countless thousands of hours of voluntary effort: our library could not have existed had you not been willing to build it piece by piece. —@whatcd.Twitter Post, November 18, 2016, https://twitter.com/whatcd/status/799751019294965760","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"197 - 216"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-08-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"41725680","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2020-08-28DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0125
Kate Galloway, K. Goldschmitt, Paula Harper
{"title":"Guest Editors' Introduction: Platforms, Labor, and Community in Online Listening","authors":"Kate Galloway, K. Goldschmitt, Paula Harper","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0125","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0125","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"125 - 130"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-08-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43841268","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2020-08-28DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0153
Eric Drott
SEOClerks is a microlabor platform. Like other, better-known sites, such as Amazon’s Mechanical Turk, Crowdflower, and Fiverr, the platform acts as a virtual labor market, bringing together buyers and sellers of services. Those seeking to have tasks done can publish job descriptions, detailing, among other things, the prices they are willing to pay, while those looking for work can advertise the services they offer and the fees they charge, as well as make bids on jobs posted to the platforms. Where microlabor platforms like SEOClerks differ from other, more traditional labor markets is in the scale, distribution, and digital mediation of the services being traded: generally speaking, microwork consists of small data-processing tasks distributed among a large group of individuals working remotely via the internet (examples include labeling images and video online, transcribing audio, and classifying the sentiment expressed in a review or comment posted to a website). And where SEOClerks differs from other microlabor platforms is in the precise nature of the digitally mediated services being bought and sold. As its name suggests, the platform specializes in search engine optimization, the ethically murky practice whereby individuals and companies game search engines and recommendation algorithms in order to gain a competitive advantage over rivals in capturing the attention of potential clients and audiences. But even the phrase “search engine optimization” is perhaps too much of a euphemism to accurately describe the kinds of transactions the site
{"title":"Fake Streams, Listening Bots, and Click Farms: Counterfeiting Attention in the Streaming Music Economy","authors":"Eric Drott","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0153","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.2.0153","url":null,"abstract":"SEOClerks is a microlabor platform. Like other, better-known sites, such as Amazon’s Mechanical Turk, Crowdflower, and Fiverr, the platform acts as a virtual labor market, bringing together buyers and sellers of services. Those seeking to have tasks done can publish job descriptions, detailing, among other things, the prices they are willing to pay, while those looking for work can advertise the services they offer and the fees they charge, as well as make bids on jobs posted to the platforms. Where microlabor platforms like SEOClerks differ from other, more traditional labor markets is in the scale, distribution, and digital mediation of the services being traded: generally speaking, microwork consists of small data-processing tasks distributed among a large group of individuals working remotely via the internet (examples include labeling images and video online, transcribing audio, and classifying the sentiment expressed in a review or comment posted to a website). And where SEOClerks differs from other microlabor platforms is in the precise nature of the digitally mediated services being bought and sold. As its name suggests, the platform specializes in search engine optimization, the ethically murky practice whereby individuals and companies game search engines and recommendation algorithms in order to gain a competitive advantage over rivals in capturing the attention of potential clients and audiences. But even the phrase “search engine optimization” is perhaps too much of a euphemism to accurately describe the kinds of transactions the site","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"153 - 175"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-08-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44294380","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
* Introduction * Space Is The Place * Notes * Selected Bibliography * Discography (by Robert L. Campbell)
*引言*空间就是地方*注释*参考书目精选*目录(罗伯特·l·坎贝尔)
{"title":"Space Is the Place","authors":"J. Szwed","doi":"10.1515/9781478012054","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1515/9781478012054","url":null,"abstract":"* Introduction * Space Is The Place * Notes * Selected Bibliography * Discography (by Robert L. Campbell)","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"16 1","pages":"232"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-04-30","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"42212011","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2020-04-03DOI: 10.5406/americanmusic.38.1.0078
R. Hopkins
{"title":"From “the Chord Was King” to “a Dynamic Journey”: Changes in the Barbershop Quartet Style in Contests Since the 1950s","authors":"R. Hopkins","doi":"10.5406/americanmusic.38.1.0078","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.38.1.0078","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43462,"journal":{"name":"AMERICAN MUSIC","volume":"38 1","pages":"101 - 78"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2020-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48461893","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}