Known for his evocative and soaring melodies, Grammy Award-winning crooner Leon Bridges shared the moving single “Sweeter” last week as a reflection on racism. The singer followed-up with a visual that celebrates his roots growing up in the Black community in Fort Worth, Texas. Now, Bridges returns with a stunning live rendition of the swooning single.

Backed by a full live band, including Terrace Martin who gives a captivating saxophone solo, Bridges delivers his emotional track in a concrete lot. “I thought we moved on from the darker days / Did the words of the King disappear in the air / Like a butterfly,” he sings.

Bridges penned the lyrics to “Sweeter” from the viewpoint of a Black man taking his last breath and reflecting on his life as part of the cycle that is systemic racism in America. In a statement alongside the track, Bridges reflected on his own experiences with racism. “Growing up in Texas I have personally experienced racism, my friends have experienced racism,” Bridges said. “From adolescence we’re taught how to conduct ourselves when we encounter police to avoid the consequences of being racially profiled. I have been numb for too long, calloused when it came to the issues of police brutality. The death of George Floyd was the straw that broke the camels back for me. It was the first time I wept for a man I never met.”

Watch Leon Bridges perform “Sweeter” above.

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A collection of Black Major League Soccer Players announced the formation of an organization dedicated to sparking change on and off the pitch. In a statement that acknowledged the decision to announce the group’s formation on Juneteenth, the Black Players Coalition of MLS announced that more than 70 players have decided to come on board with the initiative.

The group’s executive director is Toronto FC defender Justin Morrow, who told reporters that the group’s intentions, per ESPN, are “to have a voice in all racial matters as it relates to MLS, increased Black representation in the MLS Players Association and the highest levels of MLS, and to have an impact in Black communities.”

“It kind of felt like my world was crumbling, and when I reached out to my Black soccer player peers, they all felt the same way,” Morrow told reporters. “And so when we came together on that call, it was the most hopeful thing in one of the darkest weeks of my entire life. And I say that because it was like seeing my brothers and being in a room full of friends. And you know, everyone was there full of love and compassion. And it was really there that we decided that we needed an organization for ourselves.”

Morrow said that the initiative came together following conversations — first over Instagram, then via video calls as more individuals wanted to get involved — with other players. The group now includes more than 70 Black players, and beyond Morrow, the BPC’s board is made up of former D.C. United forward Quincy Amarikwa, Nashville SC defender Jalil Anibaba, Portland Timbers forward Jeremy Ebobisse, D.C. United goalkeeper Earl Edwards Jr., Philadelphia Union defender Ray Gaddis, D.C. United goalkeeper Bill Hamid, New York City FC goalkeeper Sean Johnson, Colorado Rapids forward Kei Kamara, Minnesota United defender Ike Opara, Chicago Fire forward C.J. Sapong, and FC Cincinnati defender Kendall Waston.

Amarikwa laid out some of the “measurable changes” for which the BPC will fight, both on and off the pitch, and announced that they have “secured $75,000 in charitable contributions in partnership with the MLS Players Association on behalf of the Coalition to date.” In a statement, Major League Soccer announced its recognition of the group and stated its intention to collaborate on projects moving forward.

“MLS proudly recognizes and supports the Black Players Coalition of MLS — a group of players who today, on Juneteenth, have established themselves as influential change leaders,” MLS said. “The League looks forward to continued and longstanding collaborations with the Black Players Coalition of MLS through efforts aimed at developing the game in Black communities, prioritizing diversity, and addressing implicit bias through league-wide cultural and educational initiatives.”

Noname’s Book Club launched in 2019 as an online community dedicated to highlighting and discussing authors of color and encouraging the support of local book stores. The rapper’s book club has been a major success and even began raising funds to send their monthly reads to prisons in various cities. Femme It Forward, an organization aiming to uplift Black creatives and musicians, is now following suit and breaking ground on their own book club.

Femme It Forward’s Revolutionary Reads book club kicks off this month. The group tapped Megan Thee Stallion and Rapsody to join in their first discussion, as well as a handful of activists and organizers. The first assigned reading is Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1967 Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos Or Community? After reading, Megan and Rapsody will join the rest of the group in a meaningful discussion about the prominent work.

While June marks Revolutionary Reads‘s inaugural month, Femme It Forward plans on continuing the book club well into the future. According to their website, Revolutionary Reads aims to start a meaningful conversation. “The series will open the door for women of all walks in life to join together to discover methods in which each of us can do our part to heed off racism in our various environments to secure a better reality for ourselves and for future generations,” they wrote.

The book club discussion kicks off 6/24 at 8 p.m. EDT. Sign up to join here.

For many years now, Enes Kanter has been a vocal critic of the Turkish government and President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. Kanter has accused Erdoğan’s authoritarian regime of humanitarian violations and oppression against its own people, as well as ties to various terrorist organizations in the region.

Because of that, Kanter has received numerous death threats and has been prevented from traveling overseas as the Turkish government issued an international warrant for his arrest. In addition, Kanter has been estranged from his family, members of which have been forced to publicly denounce him for fear of retaliation.

His father, Mehmet Kanter, a professor, has been held under accusations of terrorist affiliations by the Turkish government and in 2018 was sentenced to 15 years in prison. But the younger Kanter and several news outlets on Friday reported that his father has been acquitted and released.

It’s clear Kanter will continue to be a vocal figure against Erdoğan’s regime, despite widespread intimidation tactics, because as he laid out, there are plenty of other individuals he believes have been wrongly imprisoned by the Turkish government. Kanter has also thrown his support behind the Black Lives Matter movement, attending several rallies in recent weeks to protest police violence.

The RX is Uproxx Music’s stamp of approval for the best albums, songs, and music stories throughout the year. Inclusion in this category is the highest distinction we can bestow, and signals the most important music being released throughout the year. The RX is the music you need, right now.

“God, do I owe you money?”

In the flurry that is album release week, Jaime Wyatt forgot the exact timing of our phone interview — so when I called she wasn’t sure who was on the line. In her typical off-the-cuff style she joked about worrying the call was from a debt collector, and not a journalist eager to discuss Neon Cross, her spectacular full-length debut, released late last month via the Nashville-based label New West Records. Warm and charming, Wyatt is about as blunt as they come when she talks about the stories behind her new songs, the landmarks in LA that inspired some of them, and the personal transformation that spurred her to a whole new level as an artist and a person.

In some ways, Neon Cross feels like Wyatt’s true debut, though it follows up an initial EP, Felony Blues, a seven-track project released in 2017 that more formally introduced her to the indie country scene. Though Felony Blues was instantly beloved by those who heard it, few did. Wyatt didn’t achieve mainstream acclaim for the release — and she also hadn’t been fully honest with herself. As a recovering addict, and at that time, a closeted queer woman, Wyatt relapsed shortly before the release, partially because she was continuing to struggle with and hide her true identity.

“My journey has included relapse, right around the release of Felony Blues,” Wyatt told me over the phone, as we began to dig into her backstory. “My downfall was with drugs, so I thought I didn’t have a problem with alcohol… but for me, it’s all the same. After that, it was more about getting to the root of why I drank and used — and that, for me, was just really, really discovering myself and my sexual identity. The shame and fear around coming out were directly linked to my relapse. That’s what I discovered, and I also discovered it was part of the reason why I felt so different and sad growing up — not knowing enough about myself and not feeling safe in being myself.”

Though she was born in LA, Wyatt grew up in the tiny enclave of Fox Island, Washington — near the larger cities of Gig Harbor and Tacoma — to musician parents with a taste for artists like Neil Young, The Grateful Dead (Bob Weir was a friend of her father), and alt-country icons like Steve Earle and Lucinda Williams. Her family had horses and an affinity for “Americana culture,” and she remembers seeing Bonnie Raitt perform live at just five-years-old, the whole experience cementing her own determination to be a musician. Wyatt’s parents bought her a guitar shortly after and she began experimenting with writing songs even as a kid.

Gigging at bars in her early teens, Wyatt eventually gained attention for her striking, scratchy alto and advanced songwriting, and scored a hit of sorts when her song “Light Switch” appeared on the soundtrack for the 2004 film Wicker Park when she was just 17. Signed to an early record deal with Lakeshore Records through that sync, Wyatt moved from Seattle to live with her sister in San Francisco, where she could better manage the drive down to the label in Los Angeles. But when she finally transitioned fully to Los Angeles, things took a turn for the worse.

Falling into a cycle of drug use and addiction, Wyatt was eventually arrested for robbing her heroin dealer — a felony — and served eight months in LA County jail for the crime, before being released, and fighting the cycle of addiction, rehab, and relapse all over again. Though she managed to release her first EP in the meantime, and reclaim the title of felon, Wyatt didn’t really get free from her addiction until after that project came out. Dealing with the death of her estranged father and a close friend in tandem, Wyatt recommitted to getting clean. And she finally stopped repressing her queerness, coming out first to her family, and then realizing she wanted to be open about her identity in her career, too.

Particularly in a historically conservative genre like country, Wyatt knew being open about her status as a gay woman might actually lose her some fans. But she was determined to do it anyway. “I’ve gotten a lot of support coming out, but I’ve also gotten those negative comments on the internet,” she said. “Which hurt my feelings, of course, but it’s all the more important to me that I do continue to talk about my journey, and coming out, because saying that people are still homophobic and offended by that, it therefore highlights the need to talk about it.”

Linking up with Shooter Jennings, and eventually forming a deep friendship with him and his wife, Misty Swain, Wyatt began piecing together the songs for Neon Cross, which were heavily influenced by her time spent in LA right before she finally committed to sobriety.

“There’s a neon cross on a big hill off the 101 freeway in Los Angeles,” she remembered. “I could see that driving back to the valley where I was staying, after partying and drinking in the bars in Hollywood and Echo Park, and it was like, reminding me that my life was in shambles. On this record, I wanted to reclaim the symbol of the cross for myself.”

Wyatt isn’t religious, but getting deeper into sobriety, she’s had the kind of spiritual experiences that give the cross personal meaning as a symbol for her own recovery. However, her relationship to it isn’t necessarily what you’d expect — the title track is no sweet and sad hymnal. Instead, an insistent, driving backbeat carries the song’s triumphant kiss-off: “You don’t love me / Why don’t you nail me to a neon cross?”

“In a lot of ways, country music and music saved my life,” she said. “Like, giving me the will to live — even without drugs and alcohol — and the will to surrender and be able to stop using. The process of getting clean and sober, and coming out, and getting to the heart of my own truth felt very much like a rebirth that the cross is very symbolic of.”

That honky-tonk defiance sets the tone for Neon Cross much more than the slower-paced songs, though the album’s two features — Shooter himself, and his mother, Jessi Colter, (wife of the late Waylon Jennings, for those who don’t know) — both come in on more downtempo tracks. On “Hurt So Bad,” Jennings sings harmony on Wyatt’s epic ode to life’s tragedies, and since decrying terrible circumstances is a classic muse in the country tradition, this song could slot right next to any of the old ‘60s and ‘70s country tunes that are deified now.

And though there are plenty of moments on this album that fix Wyatt firmly in the outlaw country tradition — one she has literal claim to on account of her own record — her duet with Colter, (wife of the late Waylon Jennings, for those who don’t know) evokes the genre’s female country stars like Tammy Wynette. Over a twanging, blissed-out guitar line, Wyatt advocates for her place in the world, despite being “just a woman,” while Colter backs her up on harmonies. The song is both a testament to how little the world has changed for women in country music, and a sendup of the mainstream’s bro-centric ideals wrapped up as an old school ballad.

“I think being a woman has directly impacted my success and support in country,” Wyatt said. “Because it’s a male-dominant dominated industry and, and then country music and pop country is very much controlled by the good old boys. They want a woman who wants to be… the way they want a woman to be. I’m not that.” Which is more clear than ever on another standout, “L I V I N,” where Wyatt imagines heaven as a place where she’s hellbent on not breaking anything, or there’s the opener, “Sweet Mess,” a piano-driven, sweetly despairing reflection on a relationship that’s doomed to end in loneliness. There’s no pronouns used in the song, but the implicit queerness of it remains.

Truthfully, every song on Neon Cross sounds like it would be the crowning track for a lesser artist, and it’s the kind of album that plays through like a miracle, seamlessly, with no skips. No matter what Wyatt turns her attention to, her insights are funny, poignant, and poetic, and age-old subjects like mercy and demons feel new when she sings about them; the record’s ghostly closer, “Demon Tied To A Chair In My Brain,” is the best approximation of addiction I’ve heard in years, with brimstone fiddle and a bluesy smolder that lingers long after the song ends.

And though Wyatt recently relocated to Nashville, the influence of Los Angeles on the album is another important piece for Neon Cross. “This is my LA country record, and to me it really embodies the grittiness of Los Angeles,” she explained toward the end of our call. “I lived in LA for twelve years, I love LA and I love the people in LA and the ideas and the food and the progressiveness of that. But Nashville is growing in that way as well, and it’s become a really lovely artists community.”

In speaking about community, and the story of the record, it would be remiss not to mention Neal Casal, who contributed guitar, harmonica, and wurlitzer throughout. Casal passed away in August of last year, taking his own life, and Neon Cross is dedicated to him. At its core, this record is designed for the misfits and the outcasts. It’s a record by a recovering addict who is a queer woman and a felon. But even with that context, the most striking feature about Wyatt is that she’s a damn good songwriter.

Neon Cross doesn’t fit squarely with much of the country music being released today, but it never feels retroactive or vintage, it’s never try-hard or cookie cutter. It’s just Jaime’s feelings, and the story of her life. And that makes it inherently valuable. For the mainstream audiences and listeners in America who tend to only accept one or two country records into their hearts per year, Neon Cross absolutely deserves to be in that rarefied company for 2020.

Neon Cross is out now via New West Records. Get it here.

MTV animation fans still hoping for a Daria reboot will have to settle for the next best thing: a reboot featuring one of the show’s iconic characters. Thursday brought word that Comedy Central had reportedly picked up Jodie, a spinoff of the late 90s MTV hit cartoon Daria.

According to Deadline the show will reportedly follow Jodie Landon, with Tracee Ellis Ross voicing the character and serving as an executive producer on the series.

Comedy Central has nabbed animated series Jodie, a spinoff of MTV’s iconic Daria, with Tracee Ellis Ross voicing the main character and executive producing. The series, from creator and head writer Grace Edwards and MTV Studios, will be paired with Comedy Central’s flagship series, South Park.

The original Daria ran from 1997 to 2001 on MTV and is revered by those who grew up in the era where MTV aired animated television shows. Rumors of a reboot have swirled for years, including word in 2018 that both Daria and The Real World were primed for reboots. But what Comedy Central picked up will be a show focused on a post-college Jodie, not the one we saw in high school.

The new series is based on Jodie Landon, Daria’s friend at the fictional Lawndale High. Jodie picks up with her character graduating from college and entering a complicated world.

What Daria did for showing how inane high school was for Gen X, Jodie will do for exploring the trials and tribulations of a first job for a new generation. The series will satirize workplace culture, Gen Z struggles, the artifice of social media and more. With themes of empowerment along gender and racial lines, explorations of privilege, and a wicked sense of humor, Jodie will shine a light on the personal and professional issues young Black women face today.

Daria itself, mind you, was a spin-off of Beavis and Butthead, so there’s certainly some fertile ground in the extended universe for more shows. Jodie will reportedly be packaged with South Park on the comedy network.

[via Deadline]

BTS truly is a global group, and they’re making sure they have their bases covered all over the world. They recently announced they will be releasing Map Of The Soul: Journey, which mostly features Japanese versions of songs from their recent album, Map Of The Soul: 7. The whole record isn’t just a re-hash, though, as there are a pair of new original songs included as well: “Your Eyes Tell” and “Stay Gold.” Now, the group has shared the golden latter track.

The new song comes as BTS made chart history in Japan. Forbes notes that today, Japanese music chart Oricon shared mid-year sales stats, and Map Of The Soul: 7 is the best-selling album in Japan in 2020 so far, thanks to its 429,000 sales. That might sound like a relatively ordinary feat, but it’s actually quite rare: This is the first time in 36 years, since Michael Jackson’s 1984 album Thriller, that a non-Japanese artist has topped the charts for the first half of a year.

Meanwhile, BTS — and their fans — have really shown up in recent days: They donated a million dollars to Black Lives Matter, and the BTS Army quickly matched, and surpassed, that donation.

Listen to “Stay Gold” above.

Map Of The Soul: Journey is out 7/14 via Big Hit Entertainment. Pre-order it here.

I’ve always been labeled as different. Growing up in Texas, I was the Black girl interested in skateboarding and emo rock, while simultaneously embracing what I was culturally “supposed” to be into, like hip-hop and basketball. As I grew older, this trait went on to translate into my choice of spirits. I was the 20-something woman drinking bourbon neat. No appletinis for me. This is just to say: Being unique has never fazed me, but I have noticed that my comfort in my own skin has caused others to have reactions.

I remember the first response when I started ordering bourbon at bars and restaurants in my late 20s. There was this look of shock and awe from a Scandinavian dude who was genuinely perplexed that not only a woman but a woman of color was drinking a beverage mostly associated with bearded old white guys. Though that is often how the world markets whiskey, it’s much different from my reality. I grew up with Black men, namely my dad and grandfather, enjoying a glass of bourbon neat. So when I think of whiskey, I associate it with good times at family reunions and get-togethers that called for a celebratory dram.

Once I started writing, I was always keen to expand from fashion and music journalism into spirits, but never thought I’d fit in because I didn’t mesh with the white male motif I saw dominating the booze industry — from whiskey to bespoke cocktails to beer. That is until two years ago, when I digitally met Emily Saladino, then an editor at VinePair. Taking a shot on me, Saladino offered a platform to write my first spirits piece, a profile of the Texas whiskey boom. To cover the story, I attended a tasting in Houston featuring an array of top whiskey producers. While there, I noticed not only was I one of few women present, but also one of only a handful of Black people in attendance.

Little did I know this would be the start of a lonely journey. A sojourn that’s left me asking: Where are all the Black people, particularly women of color, in the whiskey industry? Has it always been this way? Can it change? (Hopefully, soon?)

In 1964, the US Congress declared bourbon “America’s Native Spirit.” Still, current marketing trends and history have largely ignored or erased the presence of Black producers and consumers from the story of whiskey. Sometime during the 1850s, Nathan “Nearest” Green, born into slavery but emancipated after the Civil War, was one of these voices. He was a master distiller without the title, the man who first taught a young Jack Daniel the whiskey distilling craft.

Post-Civil War, other Black people played crucial roles in the larger whiskey story. Louisville-born bartender Tom Bullock was the first Black person to write a cocktail book. Released in 1917, Bullock’s book, The Ideal Bartender, featured a recipe for the bourbon-based cocktail, “Old Fashion,” which he’s credited with inventing.

Sadly, the role of slaves in the whiskey trade was never written down. It’s lost to history.

Generations later, I think it’s fair to say there’s an inclusion and representation problem with regards to Black people in the industry. I’ve seen it. I’ve been on so many spirits-focused press trips and whiskey tastings in which I’m the only person of color. And while I’m glad to say that I’ve never been singled out as “the Black woman” on such trips and tastings in a negative way, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate more diversity — both in front of and behind the bar.

Rather than viewing being a minority in this industry as an obstacle, however, I see it as an opportunity for me to help pave the way and open the landscape for more people of color to express themselves in industries, particularly in the spirits category, that are largely white. Fawn Weaver, CEO and co-founder of Uncle Nearest Premium Whiskey (yes, as in Nathan “Nearest” Green mentioned at the outset) takes a similar approach.

“I don’t look at challenges as challenges,” she says. “I look at challenges as simply stepping stools. I just put every challenge on top of each other to create a ladder that I need. The greatest opportunity I have seen was that there has never been a successful African American-owned spirits brand. I’m the first to be successful at this.”

This accomplishment speaks volumes for the whiskey industry in general and Weaver in specific. She’s shown that women of color can have positions of power in the industry and be successful in it. In doing so, she’s bringing her lived experience as a Black woman to bear on the creative direction of the brand. The whiskey industry is largely open to technical innovation, I hope to see people embrace fresh perspectives like Weaver’s just as eagerly.

Samara Rivers, the founder of the Black Bourbon Society, is another woman of color in the industry who I admire. She’s on a mission to promote diversity and inclusivity in the whiskey field and her success is undeniable. The Black Bourbon Society has over 10,000 members across the country — a stat that whiskey marketers have surely noticed.

Whiskey companies, hear this: Your demographic includes Black women, such as me. And Fawn. And Samara. There’s an army of us okay with being considered different (even if that shakes the boring status quo). If your company isn’t having the necessary conversations about diversity in whiskey, expect us to call you out. It’s time to add Black voices into a story that we’ve long been expunged or excluded from.

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