The Music Portfolio 2002

Annie Leibovitz

Herb Ritts

Mark Seliger

Rankin

Jonas Karlsson

Julian Broad

David LaChapelle

Norman Jean Roy

Fabrizio Ferri

Let the suits who sell the music whine about tough times. Those who make it— veterans such as Bruce Springsteen, Dr. John, and Dolly Parton, or new faces such as Ashanti, Musiq, and the Hives—know that when the going gets rough, music really takes off. On the next 57 pages, the grit looks great as the Rasta philosophy of Burning Spear meets the Tantric allure of Sting, Enya's castle faeriedom rubs shoulders with Joan Baez's enduring idealism, and the unreconstructed licks and lips of the Rolling Stones butt heads with the street cred of Rakim, Eminem, and Dr. Dre

The Boss BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN, singer, songwriter, superhero.

Twelve studio albums of all-new material; three live albums; two compilation albums; nine of his albums have gone multi-platinum;

12 Top 10 singles; seven Grammys; one Academy Award; inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1999.

Bruce Springsteen has a knack for matching up his innermost thoughts with public sentiments. It happened with his breakthrough 1975 masterpiece,

Born to Run, and it happened again with his 1980 double album, The River, and it happened yet again with his 15-million-selling Born in the U.S.A. in 1984. With world events demanding someone other than the current crop of pop-music stars to deliver something timely and soulful, Springsteen stepped up and came through. On The Rising, his latest report on the state of the American heart and mind, his special talent for articulating the private confusions of millions is there in force. And now that the album has hit the top of the charts, he's back doing what he does best: putting himself and his gravelly voice to the test before arena crowds across the country, with the trusty E Street Band watching his back.

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz in Asbury Park, New Jersey, on August 2, 2002.

The Heavyweights RAKIM, EMINEM, and DR. DRE, living legends of hip-hop.

Rakim: one platinum album and three gold albums; born William Griffin; also known as Rakim Allah. Eminem: three multi-platinum albums; five Grammys; born Marshall Mathers III. Dr. Dre: two multi-platinum albums; one platinum single and two gold singles; four Grammys; born Andre Young. When Rakim released The 18th Letter in 1997, critics proclaimed that the man who had helped usher in hip-hop's golden era 10 years earlier with Paid in Full and Follow the Leader (his landmark albums with D.J. Eric B.) had returned to rid the world of profane and irresponsible gangsta rap. How could those trend watchers ever have foreseen the rise of Eminem? With beats and street cred supplied by Dr. Dre, Eminem took profanity and irresponsibility to a new extreme and in the process became the most important pop star since Kurt Cobain. His third album, The Eminem Show, went platinum in under two weeks this summer, and he is the star of the upcoming film 8 Mile, which is essentially a biopic. Now Rakim has joined Eminem on original gangsta Dr. Dre's Aftermath Records, and although no one expects him to start rapping about guns and bitches, everyone expects his world-class flow to benefit from Dre's famous G-funk production. Meanwhile, Dre is mapping out Detox, his third solo record, which he envisions as a "hip-hop musical." Will Broadway be next to go gangsta?

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz at the home of Jimmy lovine, chairman of Interscope Geffen A&M Records, in Los Angeles on May 31, 2002.

The Diva DEBORAH VOIGT, soprano.

Appears on 17 albums; one Grammy; one gold medal for best female vocalist at the Tchaikovsky competition (1990); one Richard Tucker Award (1992); named Chevalier de I'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres by the French government (2002).

Deborah Voigt, the star soprano internationally renowned of late for her unique combination of exquisite singing and hilarious comic acting as the petulant prima donna in Strauss's Ariadne auf Naxos, has steadfastly resisted the temptation to jump too quickly into the huge, difficult roles that make reputations but damage unripened throats. Now that she is 42 and her voice has reached its big, luxurious, top-to-bottom-beautiful prime, however, Voigt is ready to tackle one of the epic roles many believe she was born to sing: Isolde. Having sung sections of Wagner's Tristan und Isolde in recital and on a recording of duets with Placido Domingo, she will make her muchanticipated debut in a stage production in May at the Vienna State Theater. Next stop: Brunnhilde and "The Ring." In the meantime, Voigt will enjoy a blockbuster season at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, singing Chrysothemis in Strauss's Elektra, the title role in Verdi's Aida, Cassandra (which won her a Grammy in 1996) in a new production of Berlioz's Les Troyens, and her famous Ariadne. If that's too highbrow for you, check out this month's Classical Action and Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS benefit, where Voigt, who spent her childhood trilling along to My Fair Lady in Chicago and California, will be singing show tunes for charity.

Photographed by Jonas Karlsson in the Austrian Alps surrounding Salzburg (the site of Julie Andrews's memorable The Sound of Music scene) on August 5, 2002.

The Sheik ENRIQUE IGLESIAS, pop phenomenon.

Six albums, three of them platinum, one multi-platinum; one Grammy; two World Music Awards; eight Premio Lo Nuestros awards.

Enrique Iglesias makes music that is soft enough to nurture bedroom heartache and sturdy enough to carry to the 650th row. It's a knack he shares with his father, Julio. He never wanted to inherit his dad's Lothario reputation or his aging fan base. Instead, the young singer, who grew up in Miami listening more to Foreigner and Dire Straits than to salsa and merengue, captivated a generation of Spanish-speaking teenage girls with his Latin take on norteamericano arena pop. When he began releasing albums in English in 1999, he became part of a Latin-invasion triumvirate, alongside Marc Anthony (of East Harlem) and Ricky Martin (of Menudo). Last month Iglesias, 27, returned to singing in Spanish for Quizas (Maybe), his sixth album, but his days of slipping under the gringo radar are past, thanks in part to his public romance with tennis diva Anna Kournikova. He's a NAFTA superstar now, a balladeer without borders.

Photographed with models Lisa Marie Scott (left) and Lindy by Mark Seliger in Encino, California, on July 29, 2002.

The Gold Standard

THE ROLLING STONES, rock 'n' roll band.

Keith Richards, Ron Wood, Mick Jagger, and Charlie Watts. More than 40 albums; three Grammys, including one lifetime Achievement Award; inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989.

Twenty, 30 years ago, who would've thought that in 2002 halt the Beatles would be gone while the Rolling Stones would once again be packing their kit and hitting the road, this time for their 15th North American tour? The . ond's the silky, urbane opening of 'Monkey Man," which may be th seconds in rock 'n' roll; much of Bridges to Babylon, their studio album, which includes some of their most musically adven pleasurable work in decades; the fact that, from the looks of things, they haven't had any work done.

Photographed by Rankin at the Masonic Temple in Toronto on August 1, 2002.

The Country Girl DOLLY PARTON, singer, songwriter, actress A heme-park entrepreneur.

Fifty-five albums; 89 Top 40Vingles on Billboard's country chart (24 No. 1 s); has reportedly written 3,000 songs; seven Grammys; inducted into the Country Musi? Hall of Fame in 1999.

Dolly Parton's fans know she's as genuine as her platinum-blond hair is fake. From the start, she has deflected criticisms of her look with witticisms worthy of Mae West, such as "It takes a lot of money to make a person look this cheap." She was one of the first country-music stars to have success in the pop market ("Here You Come Again," "9 to 5") and in movies (9 to 5,

The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas). She triumphed again in 1986 when she opened Dollywood, a theme park not/for from the cabin where she grew up. Whitney Houston's 1992 rendition of her s&ig "I Will Always Love You," a country hit for Parton in 1974 and 1982, became one of the biggest-selling singles of all time. With country radio having abandoned its old-line stars in recent years,

Parton has turned out a trilogy of inspired, bluegrass-influenced albums—The Grass Is Blue,

Little Sparrow, and this year's Halos & Horns. "I had to get rich

to sing like I'm poor," she says.

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz at Dollywood in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, on April 12, 2002.

The Faerie Queenee ENYA, vocalist, songwriter, mystic serious unit shifter.

Five original studio albums, plus a greatest-hits collection and two contributions to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack; more than 60 million albums sold.

Few would have pegged Enya Brennan of County Donegal as a pop-colossus-in-the-making when she first attracted American attention in 1988, with her single Orinoco Flow." She was a New Ager with a novelty hit, a minor maker of music to be aromatherapized to.

But today the 41 -year-old Enya stands second only to U2 as Ireland's biggest-selling export, and her album A Day Without Rain was one of the top worldwide sellers of 2001 Even as her music insinuates itself into every corner of the world, though, Enya herself remains unknowable, living by herself in her Killiney castle, writing songs in solitude, letting her velvets and diaphanous fabrics billow in the breeze, revealing nil. What we do know about Enya is that hers is the music that plays in the waiting room of Heaven.

Photographed by Julian Broad at the Ragged School in London on June 27, 2002.

The Man Of the World STING, singer, songwriter, humanitarian, Tantrist.

Ten solo albums, all platinum or multi-platinum;

nine albums with the Police, seven platinum or multi-platinum; 15 Grammys.

Of all those who rose to prominence in punk's wake— the Clash, Joe Jackson, the Pretenders,

Talking Heads, Blondie, the B-52's—only Sting has remained a consistent force on the pop charts. And he's done so in a most counterintuitive way: since his old band, the Police, split in the wake of its most successful album, the multi-platinum Synchronicity, Sting has transformed himself into an adult-contemporary pop star, entertaining the masses with his scintillating mix of rock, jazz, gospel, rai, and French rap. He's sold us more than 40 million albums, but we also love him for the millions he's raised to protect the Brazilian rain forest. And, oh yeah, thatTantric sex thing, too.

Photographed at his home in Fjgline Valdarno, Tuscany, by Fabrizio Ferri on July 23, 2002.

The Wise Man JAMES TAYLOR, singer, songwriter.

Sixteen albums, 12 of them platinum or multi-pjatinum; four Grammys; inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2000.

For those who were introduced to James Taylor in the 80s, 90s, or—gasp!—00s* it's hard to imagine the tall, bald man picking gentle melodies on hii guitar as the tortured, self destructive troubadour he once was. Those vho v knew him in the 60s and 70s, though, may be equally surprised to hear just how good hjs new music is. Taylor, 54, is no qjiddle-aged rocker playing at youth, nor has he felt compelled to re-invent himself in each passing decade {James Taylor: The Grunge A/buml^-He still sings confessional folk rock, and if the success of His last two studio albums, the Grammy-winning Hourglass and the recently released October Road, is any indication,, he'll continue not only to sell out his annual tours, but also to be a chart force well into the 10s, long enough for Rufus and

Henry to brag about Sweet Papa James.

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz at his home in Lenox, Massbchusetts, with his 18-month-old sons, Rufus and Henry, on June 10, 2002! *

The Guru RAVI SHANKAR, sitarist, composer, arranger, musical ambassador.

More than 40 albums; two Gramm/s; one eponymous institute devoted to advancing his legacy.

Most Westerners know Ravi Shankar best as the serene and handsome sitar wizard who taught George Harrison how to play a raga and performed at Woodstock and the Monterey Pop Festival in the late 60s, but Shankar actually first came to the West in the 30s, when he toured as a dancer with his brother Uday's musical troupe. Shankar returned to his native India to take up formal sitar studies, and by the 50s he was renowned as the instrument's premier practitioner. In the eyes of much of the world, the 82-year-old is India's Beethoven, Yo-Yo Ma, and Mick Jagger rolled into one, a perception reinforced by his collaborations with violinist Yehudi Menuhin, composer Philip Glass, and the Beatles' Harrison. In 2001, Shankar completed what he described as his final tour of the United States, during which he was accompanied on sitar by his gorgeous young daughter Anoushka. Now he is concentrating on setting up the Ravi Shankar Foundation in New Delhi, where a few highly promising students will train under the ultimate guru.

Photographed with his customized sitar by Mark Seliger in New York City on April 15, 2002.

The Pioneers SAM PHILLIPS and AHMET ERTEGUN, founders, respectively, of Sun Records and Atlantic Records.

Born sevefc jponths apart in 1923, Phillips and Ertegun could not have come from more disparate backgrounds—the former was a working-class boy from Florence, Alabama, the latter a Washington, D.C.-raised son of Turkey's ambassador to the U.S.— but both came to the same conclusion as young men: that black blues, gospel, and R&B were the greatest music in the world, and that there needed to be a new label to issue forth this stuff. Phillips founded Sun in Memphis in 1951, initially recording black acts. Then, in 1954, one Elvis Aron Presley sauntered in and cut a cover of "That's All Right." So began Sun's great run of white stars—Presley, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis. Ertegun founded Atlantic Records in New York City in 1947 as a one-room operation and scored his first hit two years later with Stick McGhee s "Drinkin' Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee." Thereafter, Atlantic flourished as the home of Ray Charles, Ruth Brown, the Drifters, and Aretha Franklin. Whereas Phillips sold his interest in Sun in 1968 and today plays the role of down-home raconteur, Ertegun, who sold Atlantic in 1967 to Warner Communications (now AOL Time Warner), relishes staying in the game, having put out the albums not only of the black pioneers but also of white acts from the Rolling Stones to Jewel.

Photographed by Norman Jean Roy at Jezebel in New York City on April 26, 2002.

The Cynic RANDY NEWMAN, singer, songwriter, pianist, composer.

Eleven albums, one of them gold; three Grammys; one Top 10 single ("Short People"); one Academy Award.

With a well-honed sense of dramatic irony, a knack for lovely pop melodies, and a croaking voice, Randy Newman has taken aim at patriots, rock stars, businessmen, wimps, a few American cities and states, and even God himself over the course of a career going back to 1968. He got the attention of a larger audience with the demented "Short People" in 1977. But the masses don't trust satirists, so the man who cheerfully sang of blowing up every continent on earth, save Australia, on his great 1972 release, Sail Away, has gone from album to album followed by a large cult audience including music critics, permanent grad students, and other songwriters. Newman has sneaked his music to the millions via his lush soundtracks to more than a dozen films, including Ragtime, The Natural, and Toy Story. He has also slyly courted children with his decidedly un-ironic movie songs, such as Monsters, Inc.'s "If I Didn't Have You," which this year, after 16 nominations, won him his first Oscar.

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz at Sony Pictures Studios Scoring Stage in Culver City, California, on March 27, 2002.

The Crush KYLIE MINOGUE, singer, actress, overseas icon.

Nine albums; upwards of 30 million records sold; a deific figure in Europe; known as "Min" to intimates.

The pocket-size Australian sex goddess seemed slated for U.S. oblivion a couple of years ago, having reached her 30s and not scored a major hit in this country since her 1988 cover of "The Loco-Motion"; in the dark days of the mid-1990s, she'd even dated Pauly Shore. But then came Kylie's Fever album, a smash in Britain (where her bum is more obsessed over than J.Lo's) that actually survived the trip across the Atlantic, yielding a No. 1 hit in "Can't Get You out of My Head." While Madonna was devoting her energies to motherhood, legit theater, and Kabbalah, Kylie shrewdly stepped into the breach, becoming the luscious, fashion-forward pop phenomenon who is—to repurpose the words of the poet Britney Spears— no longer a girl, and very much a woman.

Photographed by Herb Ritts in Los Angeles on June 14, 2002.

The New Folkies DAN ZANES, DAVID JOHANSEN, DAR WILLIAMS, and BETH ORTON

America's post-O Brother romance with old-time music rages on, but these four singers are all nontraditionalist folkies, each tweaking folk idioms to come up with a sound that's uniquely theirs. Zones, the former leader of the 80s roots-rockers the Del Fuegos, has re-invented hims^f as pre-teen America's hootenanny master, offering up exuberantly playecf versions of old Leadbelly and Carter Family tunes (as well as his own engaging compositions) on his three albums, the latest of which is Nighttime! On paper, Williams appears to be a boilerplate coffeehouse folkie— New England-based, liberal, into health food—but her music has always been refreshingly free of solemnity. She'll have a new release, Beauty of the Rain, out in February. From the get-go, the stalky, sad-eyed Orton was a folk fusionist, collaborating with such electronica maestros as William Orbit and the Chemical Brothers. But songs from her new album, Daybreaker, are lushly orchestrated showcases for her sleepy, regular-gal alto. Johansen is now living through his fourth professional incarnation: first he was the witty front man for the New York Dolls, then he was a solo rocker, then he became the pomaded Buster Poindexter, and now he's the front man for the Harry Smiths, using his menacing baritone to convincing effect on the old plaints and murder ballads collected on the landmark Anthology of American Folk Music.

Photographed by Rankin at the Bottom Line in New York City on June 10, 2002.

The Earth Mother JOAN BAEZ, singer, activist.

More than 50 albums, eight of them gold.

She warmed up for the 60s, as one critic put it, making her name in 1959 at the inaugural Newport Folk Festival. There she stunned the audience and literally woke sleeping children with her bottled-at-the-source soprano. It was a sound as pure, as powerful, and as stringently beautiful as her barefoot-madonna stage persona— "controlled ecstasy" is how the liner notes to her first LP described it. That album, Joan Baez, became an unexpected hit in 1960, turning the folk revival from an adept's cult into a pop-culture phenomenon. But unlike many of her peers, she took her politics as seriously as her music; and while the sit-ins long ago dried up and the causes became less clear-cut, she has maintained her brave commitment to nonviolence even at the cost of alienating former allies.

Today she's 61, her once raven hair shorn and gray, and with her sorrowful vibrato toned down she's a more nimble and often wittier singer than she was in the 60s.

To paraphrase an ex: she was so much older then, she's younger than that now.

Work on a new album will begin soon.

Photographed by Herb Ritts in Los Angeles on July 22, 2002.

The Insurgents THE HIVES buzz-rock revivalists, snappy dressers.

Nicholaus Arson, Chris Dangerous, Howlin' Pelle Almqvist,

Vigilante Carlstroem, and Dr. Matt Destruction.

Two albums, the most recent of which is Veni Vidi Vicious; two EPs; five monstrous egos (they titled their British compilation album Your New Favourite Band).

"I heard that band the Hives. My daughter

I was like, 'God, that sounds like a Kinks demo!'"—Dave Davies of the Kinks.

The Hives were around for nine years before we realized we needed them.

But just when the U.S. rock scene was getting too angsty and baggy-shorted to bear, they burst forth from their native Sweden, replete with natty matching ensembles, Kinks-style slashed-speaker guitars, and an arsenal of comic-Neanderthal rock ravers to rival those of the Stooges, the Flamin' Groovies, and the Ramones. In singer Howlin' Pelle Almqvist, the Hives have a front man of young-Jagger sensuality and young-Rotten camp menace ("I'm stuck in ways of sadistic joy and my talent only goes so far as to annoy"—"Main Offender").

And in bassist Dr. Matt Destruction, they have the coolest fat-balding-guy-with-a-mustache-in-a-band since Cheap Trick's Bun E. Carlos.

Photographed by Rankin at NBC Studios in New York City on June 10, 2002.

The Life of the Party THE B-52'S, "tacky little dance band from Georgia" (their words).

Fred Schneider, Keith Strickland, Cindy Wilson, and Kate Pierson.

Ten albums (including the new anthology Nude on the Moon), and, in "Rock Lobster" and "Love Shack," two of the greatest white-person dance songs of all time.

"We weren't rock people," lead singer (or is it declaimer?) Schneider once said, trying to explain the B-52's mythos. "We just did our own thing, which was a combination of rock 'n' roll, funk, and Fellini, and game-show host, and corn, and mysticism." He left out: old science-fiction movies, surf guitar, Aqua Net, And we could still go on. Were they postmodern kitsch appropriationists? Outsider artists? Novelty act? Merely "fun"? These were questions rock critics felt obliged to scratch heads over in the late 1970s when the B-52's first made the national scene; everyone else in America was happy just to have a non-disco dance band. A quarter-century later, having seen retro-ism become commonplace, and having survived the death from AIDS of founding member Ricky Wilson (Cindy's brother), the B-52's are still dancing their mess around, with whispers of a possible new album in the works. It would be the group's first in 10 years.

Photographed by Mark Seliger in New York City on August 12, 2002.

The Jazz Singer CASSANDRA WILSON. singer, songwriter.

Fourteen albums; one Grammy; Down Beat's Female Vocalist of the Year, 1996-98, 2000-2002.

"A song always tells me what it needs."

The advice to the aspiring jazz singer was simple: "Bird and Sarah Vaugfym have already said what they're going to say," she was told in 1982. "You need to say what you're supposed to say." Since then, Cassandra Wilson, 46, has been doing exactly that—first with Brooklyn's innovative M-BASE collective and then with her own albums, which include the standards-heavy Blue Skies; 1993's top-selling Blue Light 'Til Dawn; New A/loon Daughter, winner of the 1996 best-jazz-vocal Grammy; and this year's Belly of the Sun. Laying down her husky contralto and fearless interpretations on songs as disparate as Robert Johnson's "Come on in My Kitchen," Hank Williams's "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry," U2's "Love Is Blindness," and Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time," Wilson (whom Bob Dylan has called one of his favorite singers) does not merely cover songs. She tweaks and blurs, disguises and transforms, making the familiar tunes as much her own as the songs she writes herself. But is it jazz? the critics carp. Who cares? It's Cassandra, and it's as good as singing gets.

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz in Woodstock, New York, on June 16, 2002.

The Sure Thing TOM PETTY, classic rocker, dry.

Thirteen studio albums, including a new one, The Last DJ, with his longtime band, the Heartbreakers; two Grammy Awards; inducted this year into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Though he first came along in the 70s, Petty has always been a 60s kind of guy, steeped in Byrdsian languor and AM-radio melodies. His actual 60s forebears love him for this—not only was Tom a Traveling Wilbury, but he was also the one relative youngster deemed worthy of singing a verse of "My Back Pages" alongside Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, Roger McGuinn, Neil Young, and George Harrison at Dylan's 30th-anniversary concert in 1993. Nine years on from that event, Petty is now himself an authentically grizzled old-time • rocker, and he wears it well. His new p songs on The Last DJ are as catchy and incisive as the stuff on Damn the Torpedoes and Full Moon Fever, with the added benefit of middle-aged crankiness—in "Money Becomes King," his rock-fan protagonist concludes that "all the music gave me was a craving for light beer."

Photographed at his home in Malibu, California, by Annie Leibovitz on March 26, 2002.

The Storyteller PAUL SIMON, singer, songwriter.

ixteen solo albums; 11 with Simon and Garfunkel; 12 Grammys; ne Broadway musical; inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2001; and, next month, a Kennedy Center Honor.

been absorbing musical styles since the 1950s when he was a nager growing up in Queens, crazy for rock 'n' roll and doo-wop. m there it was on to forgive-them-father folk songs—he was sensitive; early 60s—and a world listening tour that has included stops on the Sunset Strip and in England, Jamaica, South Africa, Brazil, nd Puerto Rico. Yet for all the diversity of inspiration, every record, from "The Sounds of Silence" to "Darling Lorraine," is unmistakably his own: urbane, conversational, sometimes discursive, elancholy more often than not. Revealing, too, but rarely confessional. "Little psychological tunes based on wandering melodies" is how he labeled his work years ago, with characteristic acuity and faux diffidence. He's not really that modest, nor should he be: has any other gwriter of his generation so broadened his reach while remaining as true to his muse? (And while we have your attention: would-someone please release that gorgeous cast album from The Capeman?)

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz on the roof of the Brill Building in New York City on June 6, 2002.

The Innovator MOS DEF, rapper, singer, actor.

Two albums, one gold; seven movies; one Broadway show; one television series; born Dante Smith.

At 28, Mos Def has the kind of talent that makes people believe in the possibility of a renaissance, not just for hip-hop but for American culture in general. His 1998 collaboration with Talib Kweli, Mos Def & Talib Kweli Are ... Black Star, and his 1999 solo debut, Black on Both Sides, gave a generation of fans reason to hope that hip-hop might kick its addiction to comic-book thug anthems and make room for intelligent street poetry.

Then Mos Def set his sights on rescuing rock 'n' roll from Limp Bizkit et al.

He put together a band called Black Jack Johnson, featuring members of Bad Brains, P Funk, and Living Colour, and went on tour. Fans with memories of Ice-T's cheesy rock band Body Count bought tickets anyway and were blown away. (A CD is due later this year.) In 2001, director George C. Wolfe cast Mos Def, a TV veteran who has appeared in seven movies, including Monster's Ball, in the Broadway production of Suzan Lori-Parks's two-man play, Topdog/Underdog. The play pulled in the Pulitzer Prize and two Tony nominations. Any other art forms in need of salvation?

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz at the Ambassador Theater in New York City on May 22, 2002.

The Night Tripper DR. JOHN, Louisiana funkmaster.

More than 29 albums; four Grammys. Dr. John resides in a deep, dark New Orleans, a hoodoo universe of sepulchres, strange medicine, and exalted conjure women. It was not always so. Born Mac Rebennack Jr., he was a child model for Ivory soap. At 19 he got his finger shot off (later reattached) in a Christmas Eve pistol mishap. But ever since those first moon-spooked performances in 1968—when he decided to take the stage as Dr. John the Night Tripper, wearing shaman regalia that would make a mummer blanch—he has been goosing pianos and casting spells by say-yang-ing the likes of "Iko Iko," "Right Place Wrong Time," and "Such a Night." His deep-fried larynx emits a bugle-force gargle of funk and R&B. Having earned Grammys for blues, rock, pop, and jazz, he serves up a genre jambalaya (recent albums honored Ellington and Creole). Cook he does. The good doctor's bark's still as sweet as his bite.

Photographed with his wife, Cat Rebennack, and their pug Lil' Guy Annie Leibovitz in Southampton, New York, on June 5, 2002.

The Traditionalists

GILLJAN WELCH and ALISON KRAUSS, folksings

Welch: three albums; one Grammy; one Country Music Award. Krauss: nine albums; 13 Grammys; five Country Music Awards.

Alison Krauss is a virtuous ffddle player with clgorgeous soprano. Gillian Welch is a smoky-voiced folksinger who Accompanies herself on spare guitpr*Krauss is one of those big, bold, knockout talents. Welch is the rough-h«Wn kind, depending more on a gritty delivery to put her songs acrbss. Wljat these two women have in common, aside from singing together on the surprise hit soundtrack O Brother, Where Art Thou?, is a certain decorum. There's no flashjust music for music's sake. Neither one would seem to have the right pedigree—Krauss, 31, grew up in Illinois, the daughter of a real-estate-agent fatheland an illustrator mother; Welch, 34, raised in Los Angeles, and her parents were television writers-composert—but like the pioneers inspired therrv, such as Bill Monroe, Woody Gbthrie, and Hank Williams, they have an earthiness that nevei^Bn out of style.

Photographed by Annie Leibo,vttsy3t Krauss's home'^^ashville on April 14, 2002.

The Agitators SYSTEM OF A DOWN, thoughtful headbangers.

Daron Malakian (guitar), John Dolmayan (drums), Serj Tankian (vocals), and Shavo Odadjian (bass).

Two albums, both platinum; three beards.

With all the One-Note Johnnies and mirthless makeup wearers out there in nu-metal-land, there was bound to emerge one band that would transcend the genre's narrow parameters and introduce such novel elements as tunefulness, gonzo humor, and political consciousness. But who'da thunk it would be a bunch of Armenian-Americans with novelty beards? System of a Down's Rick Rubin-produced second album, Toxicity, and its prehensile first single, "Chop Suey," established the group as the crossover darlings of nu-metal, listenable even to those of us who are not disaffected 14-year-old male lowans. The band with the odd distinction of having held the No. 1 album slot during the worst week in American history—Toxicity was released on September 4, 2001—System of a Down rose to the occasion, offering distressed kids an opportunity for catharsis on its "Pledge of Allegiance" tour, while Tankian, the band's ever engaged vocalist, offered more astute analyses of terrorism's causes than most of the commentators herded up by CNN and MSNBC.

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz backstage at Ozzfest in Holmdel, New Jersey, on July 19, 2002.

The University of Soul A STAX RECORDS REUNION

Front row: Donald "Duck" Dunn (bassist, Booker T. and the MGs), Eddie Floyd (singer),

Estelle Axton (label co-founder), Yvonne Staples (vocalist, the Staple Singers), and Mavis Staples (vocalist, the Staple Singers). Back row: Steve Cropper (guitarist, Booker T. and the MGs;

songwriter, producer), Booker T. Jones (organist, Booker T. and the MGs; producer),

Carla Thomas (singer), William Bell (singer, songwriter), Al Bell (label president, producer), Deanie Parker (executive administrative chief, songwriter), David Porter (songwriter), and Isaac Hayes (singer, songwriter, producer). Not pictured: the reclusive Jim Stewart, the label's co-founder, who also passed on attending his induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this year.

Stax was the label of Otis Redding, Sam and Dave, and Isaac Hayes—the grit and groove to Motown's glide and gloss. From the time of its first hit (Rufus and Carla Thomas's "Cause I Love You," 1960) to its 1976 shutdown, Stax and its subsidiary, Volt, defined Memphis soul and R&B with a torrent of terrific singles, among them Booker T. and the MGs' "Green Onions," Sam and Dave's "Soul Man" (written by Hayes and Porter), the Staple Singers' "Respect Yourself," Eddie Floyd's "Knock on Wood," and Hayes's "Theme fromShaft."Stax's story also happens to have been a rare one of harmonious, unexploitative interracial cooperation in the pre-corporate years of the music business, presided over as it was by two white music lovers, the brother-and-sister tandem of Jim Stewart and Estelle Axton (theStand ax, respectively).

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz on East McLemore Avenue in Memphis (in front of the Soulsville redevelopment project, on the site where the Stax Recording Studios stood) on July 23, 2002.

The Rambler GEORGE JONES, singer, songwriter, hell-raiser.

More than 200 albums; 164 singles on Billboard's country charts (more chart appearances than any other performer ever); two Grammys; inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1992.

On a Sunday morning in 1942, standing on a shoeshine stand in Beaumont, Texas, George Jones, aged 11, was singing and playing guitar. At the end of a few hours, he had amassed $24 from passersby. That was enough to feed his struggling family for a week, but the money never made it home.

He blew every last nickel in an arcade—an ominous beginning to his stormy career. In his drinking nd drugging days, Jones shot up tour buses and destroyed hotel rooms with a savagery to make Led Zeppelin blush. And he found himself once again broke and singing on the street after his 1975 divorce from duet partner Tammy Wynette, with whom he had recorded such classics as "We're Gonna Hold On" and "The Ceremony." But his devil-may-care attitude toward his own career could not disguise his immense talent. Now sober at 71 and working on a gospel album, he can count himself among the greats in any genre.

Photographed on his tour bus in Nashville by Annie Leibovitz on April 16, 2002.

The Future King SALVATORE LICITRA, tenor.

Appeors on three albums; two days' notice and one day to prepare for one night that will go down in opera history.

It is a story worthy of Puccini or Verdi: an old, ailing master bows out of his final performance and at the last minute is replaced by a young tenor who amazes the crowd, receiving a two-and-a-half-minute standing ovation. Life imitated art when Salvatore Licitra learned a mere 40 minutes before curtain that he would replace Luciano Pavarotti in what should have been Pavarotti s May fl farewell performance at the Metropolitan Opera in New York (The understudy had arrived the day before, after a hasty Concorde flight from London.) Despite having performed at Verona's Arena and Milan's famed La Scala opera house, Licitra is still relatively new, and at 33 is considered a youth in the opera world His honey-toned, bell-clear tenor resembles the masters'

(pick any one of the franchised Three Tenors), while still retaining enough youth for us to enjoy its progress into maturity.

Licitra's entrance into the echelons of opera's elite is by no means complete, but with that voice, stage presence, and force of personality, it is only a matter of time

Photographed by Jonas Karlsson at L'Arena di Verona in Italy, on August 10, 2002.

The Originals DE LA SOUL, hip-hop innovators.

Dave, Pos, and Maseo (born Dave Jolicoeur, Kelvin Mercer, and Vincent Mason, respectively).

Six albums; countless imitators.

De La Soul are still rising more than a decade after they pronounced themselves dead. Though the group's unofficial fourth member, the Phil-Spector-meets-Dr.-Seuss studio genius Prince Paul, departed after producing the groundbreaking 3 Feet High and Rising (1989), the stereotype-smashing De La Soul Is Dead (1991), and the seriously daring Buhloone Mind State (1993), the trio, who currently go by the names Dave, Pos, and Maseo, ' remain the most dependably innovative group in the game. On their debut, 3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul deliriously sampled such profoundly white artists as Johnny Cash, Steely Dan, and, alas, the Turtles, who filed a $ 1.7 million lawsuit and shut the door on the era of uncredited riff borrowing. Not content with exploring the funk-prescribed conventions of the genre's sound, De La Soul also gave us the skit, the hip-hop concept album, and the only haircut ⅝\ more ridiculous than the hi-top fade (remember the video for "Me, Myself and I"?). Last year's Bionix, the second installment in an ambitious trilogy called "Art Official Intelligence," suggests yet again that three, as they taught us back in 1989, really is "The Magic Number."

Photographed by Rankin at Electric Lady Studios in New York City on June 4, 2002.

The Independent MITSUKO UCHIDA, pianist.

More than 20 recordings; first place in the Vienna Beethoven Piano Competition.

Born in Japan, trained in Vienna, and self-actualized in London,

Mitsuko Uchida is the extraordinary product of three cultures, two of which she long ago rejected (Japan for its social rigidity, Vienna for its musical rigidity) and the third of which she embraces for its tolerance for eccentricity and freedom of expression. In 1982, Uchida astounded her adopted hometown with a rare cycle of Mozart's complete sonatas at Wigmore Hall; then she confirmed her reputation for thoroughness three years later by playing all 21 solo-piano concerti with the English Chamber Orchestra, which she conducted from the keyboard.

In the years since, she has offered inspired interpretations of Beethoven, Schubert, Bach, and a host of 20th-century composers. Next year, Uchida will kick off her two-season Perspectives series at Carnegie Hall with a lecture and several performances—as a soloist, with the Cleveland Orchestra (again, she'll had from the piano), and in a num~6 mber ensembles, proving that n artist with h )eaming charisn~ *ical intelligence can be fierce'y ndent and a se coUaboi~otor.

Photographed byl Ifl Mor~boro. Vermont,

The Rastaman BURNING SPEAR, singer, songwriter, percussionist.

More than 30 albums; one Grammy.

For a guy who performs under the name Burning Spear, Winston Rodney gives off a pretty peaceful, steady glow. Ever since 1969, when he stopped his neighbor Bob Marley on a country road in St. Ann's Parish in Jamaica and asked for a little help getting started in the music business, Rodney, despite his visionary spirituality and somewhat radical political outlook (he has named three songs and three albums after the Black Nationalist Marcus Garvey), has exhibited the work ethic of a first-year med student. He performs more than 100 shows each year and is currently at work on a new album. (If you haven't heard its predecessors, Island's brand-new 20th Century Masters best-of disc is a must.) In 2000 he won a Grammy for best reggae album, and although that may have seemed like yet another example -of the Recording Academy playing catch-up * (compare such other belatedly awarded veterans as Bob Dylan, Santana, and Steely Dan), there's no question that Calling Rastafari contained the key ingredients of Burning Spear's success—his reedy tenor, his Rasta philosophy, and the hypnotic grooves played by his eight-piece Burning band—in perfect proportion.

Photographed by Mark Seliger at Kill Van Kull Park in Bayonne, New Jersey, on April 30, 2002.

The Breakout ASHANTI, singer, songwriter.

One multi-platinum album; three Top 10 hits; no thesaurus.

She had three singles on the Top 10 list in the same week. The last music act to accomplish this: the Beatles—1,979 Billboard Hot 100 charts earlier.

Her album, Ashanti, sold 503,000 copies the week it was released. No new female solo artist has ever come close. Not bad for Ashanti Shequoiya Douglas, a sweet-faced 22-year-old with a kickin' dancer's body, who writes and sings sexy R&B relationship songs heavy on the word "baby," as in "Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby baby baby baby baby baby, I love when I hear ya name, got me sayin' baby, baby, baby, baby, baby."

All of which is to say, look for the Grammys to be this baby's national coming-out party.

Photographed by Herb Ritts in Los Angeles on July 26, 2002.

The Family Affair OLU DARA and NAS, country dad and city kid.

Olu Dara: two solo albums; one Django d'Or award from France; composed music for dozens of plays.

Nas: five albums, two of them multi-platinum and the rest merely platinum.

Ever since 1994, when lllmatic, his lyrically ingenious, emotionally aching, damned-near-perfect debut album, conquered critics and street corners alike, Nas (born Nasir Jones) has been struggling to confirm his status as the poet laureate of the projects.

At the end of last year, just when Jay-Z, his rival for supreme Big Apple bragging rights, was beginning to feel invincible, Nas, now 28, charged back into the game with Stillmatic, his fifth solo record, which sold over a million copies.

Nas's father, Olu Dara, born Charles Jones III, was a respected jazz trumpeter from the 70s on, but he never really liked playing the instrument.

(He stopped four-year-old Nasir from blowing, worried that the horn would damage his son's lower lip.) In the early 80s,

Dara took up guitar, formed two bands, and began writing and singing quirky blues and funk songs, but he had his doubts about recording as a soloist. The decisive push came from Nas, who contributed a rap to his Mississippi-bred dad's acclaimed debut album, In the World: From Natchez to New York (1998).

Last year, Dara scored again with Neighborhoods.

He was 60 at the time, which has to give pause to anyone attempting to keep up with these Joneses.

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz in Harlem on June 12, 2002.

The Sophisticate DAVE BRUBECK, pianist, composer.

More than 100 albums; countless performances; one Grammy for Lifetime Achievement; a National Medal of Arts in 1994.

His Clark Kent glasses from the 50s and 60s are as evocative a symbol of jazz cool as Miles Davis's swaybacked stance or Dizzy Gillespie's berets.

His 17-year partner in the classic Dave Brubeck Quartet, alto man Paul Desmond, also had a pair. The group made its name with an overtly intellectual approach to the music—unusual time signatures, classical counterpoint—that was sometimes criticized as eggheady: too straitened, too stolid. "Jazz in a gray flannel suit," in the words of one critic.

Not only did the group swing and swing hard, even in five-four time (as on the iconic "Take Five," one of the rare modern jazz tunes you can actually kind of dance to), but Brubeck and Desmond's melodicism helped the brainiac stuff go down vodka-tonic smooth. The public certainly thought so, making the quartet the most successful small group of its day. Now 81, Brubeck continues to challenge himself, his playing having grown ever more supple with age.

His next album will be a symphonic work with the London Symphony Orchestra.

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz at his Wilton, Connecticut, home on June 13, 2002.

The Indomitable Reg ELTON JOHN, showman, survivor, knight of the British Empire.

Forty albums, 35 of them gold, plus a brand-new career retrospective,

Elton John Greatest Hits 1970~2002; six Grammys; one Oscar (for "Can You Feel the Love Tonight," from The Lion King}; one Tony (for the Aida score); two celebrity godchildren (Sean Lennon and Liz Hurley's kid); inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1994.

Sir Elton had done everything right in recent years—given up drugs, overcome his eating disorder, embraced his sexuality, grown comfortable in a long-term relationship, become a vocal activist for AIDS research, modified his hairstyle, presided over the second-best party on Oscar night... everything right, it seemed, but come up with some decent tunes.

And then, last year, he went and fixed that problem. Taking stock of his peak artistic period, from Tumbleweed Connection (1971) to Blue Moves (1976), he and his longtime lyricist, Bernie Taupin, bore down, reconnected with the muse, and came forth with Songs from the West Coast, John's best album in years And so, as he takes to the road with such gorgeous new compositions as the Abbey Road-ish "I Want Love" in his repertoire, old Reg Dwight now knows he needn't rely anymore on 30-year-old songs like the Almost Famous sing-along "Tiny Dancer" to connect with his audience.

Photographed by David LaChapelle at the Neptune Plage Restaurant in Nice, France, on May 24, 2002.

The Next Big Things

Music history—not to mention VH1 —is littered with one-hit wonders and musicians who showed such promise, but... where are they now? Herewith, 12 artists (that's all we could fit on the couches) who are among the surest bets for future rock, pop, hip-hop, and soul survivorship.

Front row: Rosey, 29 (Dirty Child, featuring "Love"); Tweet, 31 (the gold-certified Southern Hummingbird, featuring the No. 1 single "Oops (Oh My)"); Claudette Ortiz, 21, of the R&B/hip-hop trio C^ity High (the gold-certified City High, featuring "What Would You Do"); and Vanessa Carlton, 22 (Be Not Nobody, featuring "A Thousand Miles"). Center row: Michelle Branch, 19 (the platinum-certified The Spirit Room, featuring "Everywhere"); Andrew W.K., 23 Get Wet, featuring the hard-rock anthem "Party Hard"); Craig David, 21 (the multiple-platinum-certified Born to Do It, featuring the No. 1 single "Fill Me In"); Sonny, 28, of the hard-core band P.O.D. (the platinum-certified The Fundamental Elements of Southtown and the multi-platinum Satellite); and Musiq, 25 (the platinum-certified Aijuswanaseing and the gold-certified Juslisen).

Back row: Stephen Richards, 25, of the hard-rock group TapRoot (Gift, featuring "Again & Again," and Welcome); John Mayer, 25 (Inside Wants Out and the platinum-certified Room for Squares, featuring the melodic gem "No Such Thing"); and Lamya, 28 (Learning from Falling, featuring her five-octave voice on "Never Enough").

Photographed by Annie Leibovitz in New York City on July 18, 2002.