Here’s a strikingly unconventional interpretation of Ludwig van Beethoven’s 1806 composition, 32 Variations on an Original Theme in C minor, by the Canadian virtuoso pianist Glenn Gould.

The work of James Joyce has inspired many a musician—from John Cage to Kate Bush, and Lou Reed to Irish band Therapy?.

The venue isn’t as large. The head of hair isn’t as full. The beat doesn’t drive as hard. But the song remains the same. Above, Mick Jones revisits a Clash classic, “Train in Vain,” at the opening of The Rock and Roll Public Library in 2009.

A couple of days ago, Mick Fleetwood told NPR that a band’s greatest hits belong to its fans “to be reinterpreted and create a backdrop for parts of their lives.

Blank on Blank, the nonprofit group that uses the magic of animation to bring forgotten interviews back to life, has come out with a new episode featuring the Beastie Boys in their early days. “Beastie Boys on Being Stupid” (above) is built on excerpts from a 1985 interview with Rocci Fisch for ABC Radio.

Any investigation into San Francisco’s jazz heyday of the 1950s requires a stop at the Club Hangover. Operated by bandleader Doc Dougherty on Bush Street throughout the decade, the club became a Dixieland jazz headquarters.
Now home to an adult movie theater, the club is long closed.

On January 1, 1984, 25 million viewers tuned in to watch Good Morning, Mr. Orwell!, a live satellite program created by the Korean-born video artist, Nam June Paik.

Oh, not another Bowie post! Oh yes, yes it is. We don’t keep our love for Bowie secret, and along with his first album in ten years comes new archival material: new to us that is, and maybe to you too.
Now, if your primary experience of Bowie was through his early 70s character Ziggy Stardust—a rock opera creation as much as Hedwig or Dr.

On June 5, 1965, Joan Baez played a special concert at the BBC Television Theatre in Shepherd’s Bush, London. Although her fame at the time was newly eclipsed by that of her recently estranged lover Bob Dylan, Baez was very much in her prime.

Very early in his career as a bandleader, Miles Davis developed a reputation for a too-cool persona on stage. Whether turning his back on the crowd or walking offstage while his sidemen soloed, his refusal to cater to audience expectations only enhanced his mystique.