GRAMMY-nominated producer/songwriter Warren "Oak" Felder knows how to craft Top 10 hits—including Alessia Cara's "Here" and "Scars To Your Beautiful" and Demi Lovato's "Sorry Not Sorry," to name just a few. Though he has the skills and experience to craft top-charting songs, he passionately believes that the music industry should foster an environment that ensures all creatives get paid—not just the ones dominating the airwaves.  

"I think it's important for creators of music to be able to create music and make a living off of it. Because right now, the only way that you are going to be able to do your job and make money to live off of is if you're getting hits," Felder recently told the Recording Academy. "How many records do you have in your life that you listened to that weren't singles, but are just as meaningful to you?"

The Los Angeles-based, Istanbul-born alt-rock lover is also dedicated to the art of mentorship and paving the way for younger creatives. Last month, he led one of the GRAMMY Museum's Summer Sessions, speaking to a theater full of high school students hopeful to pursue songwriting careers. We sat down with Felder to find out what he learned from the students, why he believes in music education and his biggest piece of advice for aspiring musicians and songwriters/producers.

You just wrapped up the GRAMMY Summer Session program. How'd it go?

Fantastic. I was sort of awed by just the concept of it. Those kids are awesome. And the program is fantastic.

<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="en"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">Had a blast <a href="https://twitter.com/GRAMMYMuseum?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@GRAMMYMuseum</a> for <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/summersession?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#summersession</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/grammymuseum?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#grammymuseum</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/DTLA?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#DTLA</a> met so many talented songwriters and musicians <a href="https://t.co/WPbSAtZVas">pic.twitter.com/WPbSAtZVas</a></p>&mdash; Ava August (@avaaugustmusic) <a href="https://twitter.com/avaaugustmusic/status/1145430336081281024?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">June 30, 2019</a></blockquote><script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>

Were there any good questions from the kids, or something else that stood out to you from it?

Yeah. So one of the questions really focused on working in the studio with an artist, on bringing an artist story to the forefront and how to do that.

I feel like people forget that production and music is so psychological and they say, "Oh, well you just go in the studio, you make a beat, you write a song and you record." People forget there's a psychology to it. So that awareness surprised me. I don't think I was aware of that until I was older and much less dumb than I was when I was a kid.

Music education is SO important, but often ignored or defunded in public schools. Why do you think music education is important?

I think the kids that learn how to play the piano and play some sort of instrument when they're younger develop and demonstrate better cognitive abilities as an adult. And I think it's something that serves you, even if you're not a musician afterwards. If you've learned how to play the piano and you forgot, you still created the pathways in your brain that allow you to solve different problems, probably more efficiently than other people would.

Creativity is very important for coping with life in general. If you have an early relationship with music, it makes music as a coping mechanism a little better for you. So, education and music would apply to society as a whole. Being born and raised in another country where music is a focus educationally, I definitely see a difference between a place that doesn't focus on it as much from an educational standpoint, and a place that does.

How do you integrate teaching and mentorship into your work in the music industry?

I consider myself a natural teacher because I like to talk a lot. You kind of have to show people the ropes. I have a guy assigned to me that I consider it my responsibility to teach him. Even beyond that, after I'm done with production, I think I would continue to teach it afterwards. I definitely have the gray hairs to match with professorship, so I'm definitely going to try for that. I think teaching is important, otherwise, we'd all be sort of aimlessly walking around figuring things out by trial and error.

Did you have any mentors when you were first starting out in the industry?

The first one that comes to mind is my oldest brother Dennis. He's an amazing musician and a great guy. He definitely was an inspiration to me. I feel like I've been following him my whole life, trying to be as good as he is. I'm still not, but I'm getting there.

Another early mentor for me was an R&B producer, guy named Teddy Bishop. He gave me my initial view of what being a record producer is like, the template for what it's supposed to look like. I've been applying that to what I've been doing since.

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How do you think people within the music industry can foster a more collaborative, inclusive environment?

I think there is still the perception of corruption in the music industry. I think that the day that I am not surprised when a woman walks up to me and says, "I am a producer." That shouldn't be a surprise. The moment we can get ourselves to that point as creatives, we will diversify and mutate the state of music to a point of amazingness. Because for every idea that comes from a stereotypical producer, there's an idea that wasn't heard from someone who's not a typical producer. That's going to add to the culture when we finally get to that point. I think that should be everybody's focus.

Do you have a vision to help ensure more diverse groups are working in the studio?

Absolutely. I needed somebody for my team who did pop music very well as a producer. So I asked a friend of mine if he knew anybody and he pointed me to this producer named Zaire [Koalo] Simmons from South L.A. You wouldn't typically associate a young black producer as being somebody who is immediately capable of doing pop music at a high level. You do have black producers who are capable of doing pop music. This kid floored me. And then I was like, "Well, do you do urban tracks?" And he blew me away again.

So the rule is, give everyone a shot. Because the real thing is talent, it doesn't really matter who it comes from. It's almost like a cheat because you get to look in places that other people might not be looking. And you'll find gems that exist there.

L-R: Zaire, Oak & Nelly | Photo: Courtesy of artist

So, being conscious about when you're opening the door and that you're not just looking to the usual suspects.

Yeah. That's really important. Plus, it's our responsibility to mutate the culture. And the only way to do it is if people who typically don't have a voice are given one. That's our responsibility. I take that seriously.

You've worked with a pretty major, diverse group of artists. What's the biggest thing you've learned so far in your time collaborating as a songwriter/producer?

What I've learned is that the lack of an ego is a superpower. I'm a believer that anybody at any moment could have a better idea than you will ever have.

So I think humility is what gives you the ears to hear that idea. There have been times where I had a clear concept, direction and vision for what I want it to be. And I walked in the room and somebody says, "We should do this." My immediate reaction is no, that's not what I wanted.

[But you have to] put down your ego. That's the biggest thing that I've learned. Your ego has no space in a room of collaborators. You leave that mother***er at the door.

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So, if you have 10 people in a room, and everyone has an idea, how do you foster an environment where everybody is listening, is collaborating, and isn't getting upset when their idea moves to the side?

First of all, if there's 10 people in the room, some of them are going to leave. It's easier to manage smaller groups of people. And then splits end up a little bit better if there's less people in the room. But yeah, if somebody has an idea, it gets out there.

You know what's funny, everybody has developed the concept of, "let me throw an idea out and if the room responds, then it sticks. If the room doesn't respond, no one says anything." You're in the room and people are writing songs and somebody goes, "Wearing leather pants." And it's silence, that idea was not a good idea.

So a room full of people who've figured that out, have learned how to regulate themselves, as a collective, works. That's what music is, a collective of creation. We're learning how to function as one unit, especially people you have good chemistry with.

What's your favorite part then about the collaborative process?

Self-discovery. And allowing the music that you make to do the same thing for yourself that it does for other people, through realizing other people's perspectives.

The story behind that is, I was in Jamaica working with Alicia Keys, she had invited a lot of us to come out and work for her project. I'm in a room with one of my producers and Miguel, who was there as a songwriter. He and I hadn't worked together up until that point. We're at this beautiful location, sitting at a table, just me, Miguel, Alicia and a couple other people. We're having a conversation about our biggest fears, going around the table.

Death is one of my biggest fears, beyond a person's rational fear of death. It gives me anxiety to even think about. I had no way of controlling that anxiety until I said "I'm scared of death." And Miguel goes, "You're scared of death? So you would want to live forever?" And I say, "Of course I would."

He was like, "Why? Where's the rush to do anything meaningful if you lived forever? If you were going to live forever, you'd probably have the most boring, unfulfilled existence."

He adds, "There's no fun in forever." And Alicia said, "That's a song." We ended up doing a song called "Where's the Fun in Forever" [by Miguel featuring Keys]. To this day, there's three songs I've produced that are my favorite and that's one of them. Because after we did the record, that anxiety lessened every time I thought about or listened to that song.

I can mark that as the first time that my own music has done for me, what other people's music, or my music, has done for other people. It's the collaboration with other people and learning their perspectives that I'm so grateful for because now I have a tool that allows me to deal with a difficult thought.

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How do you foster that kind of collaborative space where everyone feels safe to share their ideas? And to talk about the things that are raw and kind of scary but can really get those amazing songs and emotions?

I think it's about trust. When a person comes to my studio, especially if it's somebody that I've never met before, I have to expose my own vulnerabilities first. To give them the signal, look this a safe space. What that ends up doing is it gives the artist an opportunity to tell me things about their personal life they would never in a million years want anyone else to know. So that we can then take those stories and turn them into music, because that's the process.

But it starts with you being comfortable enough to expose your own vulnerabilities and hoping not to be judged for whatever they are. And like I said, having no ego is a superpower, because the ego is what gets in the way of being able to do that initially.

And then you have a session where people sit in a room and it's kind of awkward, nobody's saying anything. Where it's, "So what are you working on?" "Same sh*t you're working on." As opposed to, "I woke up this morning and I was feeling like crap because my dad called me," etc. You're having this kind of conversation with somebody that you've just met. It's a disarming thing to be that vulnerable with somebody else. And when they see that they open up as well.

That's the key, vulnerability, because it creates trust. And puts them in a position where they're able to say, "You know what, let's write a song about this thing that I experienced, that I would never in a million years tell anyone, but let's write a song with that energy in it." A lot of my biggest records are records that have been written that way.

That's really cool; leading by example and setting the tone.

Absolutely. I think the best kind of leader is the one that leads from the front.

So what's your biggest piece of advice for young, aspiring artists? What about for young songwriters and/or producers, those who are more behind the scenes?

I say this to everyone: Know your history. Current music is the tip of the iceberg, it's being supported by a large group of music that proceeded it. If you are a rapper, then you should know why Tupac is important, why disco is important, and why a break beat is important and how it contributed to the culture.

Actually, my partner (Andrew "Pop" Wansel) just produced a song for Nicki Minaj that samples a classic dancehall record (called "Filthy Riddim"). This record is historically and traditionally a song that will always get the club popping, but the newer audiences haven't been exposed to it yet.

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What do you want your legacy to be?

I want people to remember that he was a nice guy. And I want people who are successful in the industry to be able to turn around and say, Oak helped me do this. That's my biggest dream, wish, goal. Because I want, in 20 or 15 years, to be able to be the person who gave a shot to someone who made a difference. And in so doing that, make a difference myself.

What's your biggest hope for the trajectory of the music industry, the biggest thing that you wish to see that isn't happening yet or is just starting to happen?

I want us to get paid. I'm part of the MLC [the Music Licensing Collective], and I think it's important for creators of music to be able to create music and make a living off of it. Because right now, the only way that you are going to be able to do your job and make money to live off of is if you're getting hits. That wasn't the case in the '80s or in the '90s; you could've produced three records on an album that weren't necessarily singles. How many records do you have in your life that you listened to that weren't singles, but are just as meaningful to you?

In today's cultural climate, that is starting to become a thing of the past. Because the economic structure of the music industry only rewards people who have big singles, which means the big singles are the only ones that influence culture, i.e., there's no album record that really speaks to people.

And think about this: From a creative standpoint, when I get in the studio and I know the only thing that's going to make money is a big hit smash, that's all I'm focused on making. I'm not gonna make the "Where's The Fun In Forever" record, which wasn't a single, it was an album cut on that album. But it's a record that affected me and it probably affected other people in the same way. Those don't exist with the current model anymore.

The model needs to change to reflect that writers get paid for records that, even if they aren't big smashes, we get back to getting paid at a level that they will be allowed to live. That is my single biggest wish for the music industry right now.

Meet Ericka Coulter, The Inspirational Music Exec Amplifying Rising Talent With TheBasement

If Aaron Frazer had not wound up singing and playing drums with the soul outfit Durand Jones & the Indications, or on his own solo records, he suspects he may have ended up working as a music history teacher.  

"My favorite classes in college were music history. Even something I knew already, like the history of rock and roll, those are songs your dad probably played, but hearing it through the lens of somebody who truly loves it and looks at you and says, ‘Isn’t this amazing?’ that stirs something up in you," says Frazer.

Unfortunately for his would-be music students, Frazer did decide to make music. He started making hip-hop beats in high school, then learned to play the drums and studied music engineering at Indiana University, where he met the musicians who would form Durand Jones & the Indications in 2012. The quintet have released three studio albums (and one live record) of R&B, soul, and disco, each of which open with a statement of political consciousness.

It was in the early days of the Indications that Frazer learned he could do more than play drums and write songs: he had an innate ability to sing in the upper-range falsetto — an extremely useful tool in soul ballads. Arguably, Frazer's delicate lead on the Indications' 2017 single "Is It Any Wonder?" helped popularize the group.

Frazer released a solo album in 2021, fittingly titled Introducing…, produced by the Black Keys' Dan Auerbach.  With ample amounts of his signature falsetto, the debut is rooted in pure, sweet soul that could easily be mistaken for a recording from the '60s. Interspersed throughout his songs are bouncy bass lines, flourishes of horns, strings, organ and piano, funky guitar patterns, and backing vocals. Lyrics tell earnest stories of love, breakups, disappointment, loneliness, and joy.  

Frazer's second solo album arrives June 28.  Into The Blue features some of his trademark sweet soul sounds, and adds in inspiration from the Spaghetti Western film scores of Ennio Morricone, the lush jazz-rock recordings of David Axelrod, and late-90s hip-hop from artists like Nas and Jay-Z.

Into The Blue is a collaboration with GRAMMY-winning producer Alex Goose, known for his crate-digging samples and collaborations with artists like Brockhampton and Madlib. Goose and Frazer have a shared love of the tension that many hip-hop songs create by rigging disparate elements together. 

Similarly, Into The Blue combines cinematic string sections, breakbeats, and tambourines with driving bass lines, fuzz guitar, iPhone recordings and one-take vocals, and added a range of samples, including the '90s R&B group Hi-Five. Frazer’s love of hip-hop is evident in the beats: if you were to isolate the drumming on many of his tracks, they could easily lay the bedrock for an MC to rhyme over. 

Frazer recently spoke with GRAMMY.com about creating Into The Blue, his experiences with the Indications, working with Dan Auerbach, and his new life on the West Coast.

What inspired the new sounds you’re exploring in ‘Into The Blue’?

There were multiple changes in my life. My relationship of five years came to an end, and I moved across the country by myself from New York to Los Angeles. 

Durand Jones and The Indications had just finished an insane year of touring. We had spent seven or 10 months on the road. No more partner, no more band, and I was in a new city where I didn’t know many people. I was heading into the unknown, literally and emotionally, that was the feeling of the album.

What sound were you aiming for?

I’m a student of so many genres of music. So sonically, I’m always on a quest to bring all my influences together seamlessly and authentically, and I believe I’ve done that. It’s rooted in classics but [sounds] contemporary. 

It’s soul music, and falsetto-driven, but with a country Western influence I’ve liked since high school, like Mississippi John Hurt, and gospel and disco, and always hip-hop. Hip-hop has been in my DNA since high school; I wanted to partner with a hip-hop producer to bring that DNA to the forefront.

How did you combine those specific musical elements?

The construction of the album took a ton of work, but I think all of the influences blend together and it really makes sense. If you listen to Ennio Morricone and David Axelrod, they both have these cinematic string arrangements and operatic vocals, but the drums are like MPC fodder — like proto hip-hop. 

With Morricone, you hear the bass and it’s heavy. You hear the grimiest timpani drum sound. That is RZA all day. In hip-hop, they rely on samples, and they end up in conversation with so many records. It’s like chutes and ladders short cuts but with a homebase of cohesion. 

How did you first get into hip-hop, and how exactly does it appeal to you?

I was probably 10 when I first heard hip-hop. In high school I started making beats on Fruity Loops. I loved Will Smith’s "Big Willie Style" and Jay-Z's "Hard Knock Life." "Annie" is the softest s— ever, but he put this pocket behind it. It moved me, and lit my brain up. 

In high school I drummed for a musical production of Annie, and when we got to "Hard Knock Life," of course I started playing the Jay-Z version. The teacher was like, "Can you not do that?" 

You got into sound engineering at Indiana University. What attracted you to that work?

At that time I didn't have any sort of music theory background. I thought about majoring in percussion, but I’m not a classical music guy and I’m not a jazz drummer. I grew up listening to rock and hip-hop. Meg White and Questlove were my heroes, so I wasn’t shaped for the conservatory. I just wanted to make beats. My parents suggested I learn the practical side of things so I could get a job, so I was like okay, let me do this and figure it out. 

The Indications guys were classmates in the recording program. We started out making rock and roll, but we bonded over Dilla’s "Donuts," and the Jerry Butler "Just Because I Really Love You" sample pulled on our heartstrings. We geeked out on that, and then we met Durand [Jones], and that was the first time I could bring all my influences together. We were rowdy but soulful.

Is that around the same time you started singing a lot of falsetto vocals?

I discovered I could sing falsetto when I made a scratch vocal track for Durand. It was far enough removed from my own speaking voice that I could hear it as its own instrument, and it just felt like me for the first time. It’s been my signature style ever since.  

In the last few years, I’ve figured out ways to incorporate both registers of my voice. I didn't grow up singing, so it’s still an adventure to learn that instrument.

How did Durand Jones & The Indications impact your life? 

They are family. We have been through so much together. We traveled the world together. We put in so many hours on the road, and so many miles, and we got through it together. It’s not easy to tour, to get in the trenches and get in a van. Being able to grind it out together and grow together, being a part of a band that writes and produces together.

Now I think about us like the Avengers. There’s a main story line, and you create a universe around it, and everyone has their own worlds and universes. Right now I’m drumming on [keyboardist] Steve Okonsky’s jazz record, and Okonsky is playing bass on my record. I produced a record with a Durand on vocals.

It’s important to have a place you can go and learn from each other and collaborate, and also have a place to go on your own. We all are eclectic, I don’t think we’ll ever run out of interesting avenues to explore.

Dan Auerbach produced your first solo album, 'Introducing…'  in 2021. What did you learn from that experience? 

We were writing three or four songs a day, and we wrote the record in a week. We were blasting through songs. Dan accesses and celebrates first instinct and intuitiveness. You do two sessions a day, and you come out with a song per session.

Read more: From The Black Keys To Behind The Board: How Dan Auerbach's Production Work Ripples Through The Music Community 

On the new record, I tinkered for hours over some moments, but many moments just happened. On the song "The Fool," we used iPhone files. You can hear the drummer say "play it again," just like a demo. It had magic to it. We tracked it again, but the voice memo had a looseness to it, and I gave myself permission to use something that wasn’t perfect.  

"Perfect Stranger" was a one-take vocal. I could have auto-tuned it, but wanted it to sound like I was on the edge of tears, and about to lose it, which I was. Dan gives himself that same permission to embrace spontaneity.

You and producer Alex Goose experimented with samples on this new album. How so?

This record is fusing my childhood artistic self with the artist I’ve grown into. The first beat I ever made, I didn’t have production software. I had a CD compilation of jazz, put it in my tower computer, opened up Windows Movie Maker, dragged the audio in there and moved it around. That was one of my first experiences making my own music and looping. I wanted to bring that vibe back. One of the things that makes hip hop sound the way it does, is the tension created by rigging disparate elements together. 

Recorded with different rooms, preamps, and signals creates an amalgamation that you can’t get when everyone is playing in the same room. We recorded stuff in different places and stack those recordings on top of each other, so it feels hip hop even though it's not. When people hear this record, they might wonder if they’re hearing samples. 

What challenges popped up making this record?

When I first started, after moving to L.A., I was having trouble writing lyrics. I felt sad and heartbroken and lonely. At a certain point, a friend convinced me not to fight it, and just write about what I was feeling. As soon as I did, songs started to flow. 

I’m a private person, but audiences today expect you to share all details of your life. There’s no backstage options for artists now. It required me to be vulnerable, and remember the good things about my relationship and show people the giddiness and excitement of a new relationship. The challenges were more emotional than musical.

You’ve performed on shows like "The Tonight Show" and "CBS Saturday Morning." You have more than 4.8 million monthly listeners on Spotify. How does it feel to know your music is reaching so many people? 

It is wild. I think a lot about how lucky I am, knowing how many people in the world put out music every day on Spotify or Soundcloud or YouTube. It’s insane. I’m incredibly fortunate to reach people and talk to people about my records.

You have to work really hard and be really good but there’s also an element of luck. I try to help my bandmates and friends and also give people I don’t know a platform, tell my fans about them, and bring people on tour.

With the exception of college in the Midwest, you’ve always lived on the East Coast. How’s the West Coast treating you?

It’s definitely a cultural adjustment. I moved here because that’s where the culture lives. Soul music kind of fell by the wayside for a few decades, but now there’s a revival. The communities that kept that music precious and safe and alive and thriving were on the West Coast, from S.F. to L.A. and Phoenix, and San Antonio. That’s where this culture is alive, so I wanted to go and experience that, and see what doors open. 

I miss the subway and public transit. I miss my midnight honey turkey sandwich from the bodega, but L.A. has shown me so much love. It’s crazy to see all the lowrider, Chicano soul bands out here.

When the Indications first started, we made our music in a basement, not a bar. We weren’t entertaining people, so it was a soft, sweet soul, and it really touched a nerve. That style has exploded. It’s cool to know that we had a hand in shaping this movement.  

How Durand Jones' Debut Album 'Wait Til I Get Over' Helped Him Explore His Roots & Find Self-Acceptance 

"I strive for originality in my music," Prince declared in a 1985 interview with MTV. "That was, and will always be the case."  

It was this determination to do things his own inimitable way that birthed the decade's most audacious superstar project: Purple Rain.  

Prior to the album's June 25, 1984 release, Prince had scored some mainstream hits — including "1999" and "Little Red Corvette" — but hadn't fully blossomed into the prolific, world-conquering musical hero he's now immortalized as. Nor did he have acting experience. Yet, Prince somehow managed to convince his management and label into financing a big-screen hybrid of romance, drama and musical accompanied by an equally ambitious pop soundtrack.   

It was an inherently risky career strategy that could have derailed the Purple One's remarkable rise to greatness in one fell swoop. Instead, Purple Rain enjoyed blockbuster success at both the box office and on the charts, with the film grossing more than $68 million worldwide and the album topping the Billboard 200 for a remarkable 24 weeks.   

Initially conceived as a double album featuring protege girl group Apollonia 6 and funk rock associates the Time, the Purple Rain OST worked as an entirely separate entity, too. In fact, it had already sold 2.5 million copies in the States before the movie hit theaters, largely thanks to the immediacy of lead single "When Doves Cry," Prince's first ever Billboard Hot 100 No. 1.   

And a full 40 years on from its release, Purple Rain's diverse range of power ballads, hard rockers and party anthems still possess the power to stun, whether the phrase "You have to purify yourself in the waters of Lake Minnetonka" is familiar or not. Here's a look at why the GRAMMY-winning record — and 2010 GRAMMY Hall of Fame inductee — is regarded as such a trailblazer.

While the streaming age has encouraged artists and listeners to embrace multiple genres, back in the 1980s, "stay in your lane" was the common mindset. Of course, a musician as versatile and innovative as Prince was never going to adhere to such a restriction.   

The Purple One had already melded pop, soul, R&B, and dance to perfection on predecessor 1999. But on his magnum opus, the star took his sonic adventurism even further, flirting with neo-psychedelia, heavy metal and gospel on nine tracks which completely eschewed any form of predictability. Even its most mainstream number refused to play by the rules: despite its inherent funkiness, "When Doves Cry" is a rare chart-topper without any bass!  

As you'd expect from such a virtuoso, Prince mastered every musical diversion taken. And the album's 25 million sales worldwide proved that audiences were more than happy to go along for the ride. 

Although the likes of Jill Jones, Wendy Melvoin and Lisa Coleman had contributed to previous Prince albums, Purple Rain was the first time the Purple One pushed his female musical proteges to the forefront. On "Take Me With U," he shares lead vocals with one of his most famous, Apollonia. On its accompanying tour, he invited Sheila E. to be his opening act. And in something of a rarity even still today, two of the soundtrack's engineers, Susan Rogers and Peggy McCreary, were women.   

Melvoin and Coleman would go on to become artists in their own right as Wendy and Lisa, of course. And Prince would also help to radically transform Sheena Easton from a demure balladeer into a pop vixen; compose hits by the Bangles ("Manic Monday"), Martika ("Love Thy Will Be Done"), and Sinead O'Connor ("Nothing Compares 2 U"); and provide career launchpads for Bria Valente and 3RDEYEGIRL.

As well as pushing all kinds of boundaries, Purple Rain also broke all kinds of records, including one at the music industry's most prestigious night of the year. At the 1985 GRAMMY Awards, Prince became the first Black artist ever to win Best Rock Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocal, beating the likes of the Cars, Genesis, Van Halen, and Yes in the process. Purple Rain also picked up Best Score Soundtrack for Visual Media at the same ceremony, and was nominated in the night's most coveted Category, Album Of The Year. 

Another impressive feat was the one that had only previously been achieved by the Beatles and Elvis Presley. With the same-named movie also hitting the top of the box office chart, Prince became only the third artist in history to score a No. 1 album, film and song in the same calendar year.

Although it seems positively chaste compared to the likes of "WAP," "Anaconda," and "My Neck, My Back (Lick It)," Purple Rain's tale of a "sex fiend" who enjoys pleasuring herself in hotel lobbies was deemed so provocative at the time of release that it inadvertently instigated a political taskforce. 

Appalled by the sexual lyrical content of "Darling Nikki," a track she caught her 11-year-old daughter Karenna listening to, future Second Lady Tipper Gore decided to set up the Parents Music Resource Centre with three other "Washington Wives." The organization subsequently persuaded the record industry and retailers to issue any album containing child-unfriendly material with Parental Advisory stickers. (Another Prince-penned hit, Sheena Easton's "Sugar Walls," was also included alongside "Darling Nikki" in the "Filthy 15" list of songs the PMRC deemed to be the most offensive examples.)

Prince was the first pop superstar from the 1980s holy trinity to bridge the gap between Hollywood and MTV, with Purple Rain arriving eight months before Madonna's star turn in Desperately Seeking Susan and four years before Michael Jackson's fantastical anthology Moonwalker. And it spawned a whole host of similar vanity projects, too.   

You can trace the roots of everything from Mariah Carey's Glitter to Eminem's 8 Mile back to the tale of a troubled musical prodigy — nicknamed The Kid — who finds solace from his abusive home life at Minneapolis' hottest night spot. And while the acting and screenplay were never going to trouble the Academy Awards (as lead actress Apollonia predicted, however, it did pick up Best Score), Purple Rain's spellbinding onstage performances captures the euphoria of live music better than any other concert film, fictional or real. 

"I'm not a woman, I'm not a man/ I am something that you'll never understand," Prince sings on Purple Rain's biggest dance floor number "I Would Die 4 U" — one of many occasions in both the album and film that challenged notions of masculinity, gender and sexuality even stronger than the Purple One had before.   

Indeed, although the early '80s was unarguably a boom period for white British pop stars outside the heteronormative norm, it was rarer to find artists of color so willing to embrace such fluidity. Prince, however, had no problem — whether sporting his now-iconic dandy-ish, ruffled white shirt and flamboyant purple jacket combo, or unleashing his impressive array of diva-like shrieks and screams on "Computer Blue" and "The Beautiful Ones." André 3000, Lil Nas X and Frank Ocean are just a few of the contemporary names who have since felt comfortable enough to express themselves in similarly transgressive fashion. 

From the apocalyptic rockabilly of "Let's Go Crazy" ("We're all excited/ But we don't know why/ Maybe it's 'cause/ We're all gonna die") and messianic new wave of "I Would Die 4 U," to the experimental rock of "Computer Blue" and self-fulfilling prophecy of "Baby, I'm A Star," Purple Rain delights at every musical turn. But it's the title track that continues to resonate the most.  

Following Prince's untimely death in 2016, it was "Purple Rain" — not "1999," not "Kiss," not "The Most Beautiful Girl in the World" — that many fans gravitated toward first. Initially conceived as a country duet with Stevie Nicks, the epic power ballad was described by Prince as pertaining "to the end of the world and being with the one you love and letting your faith/ God guide you through the purple rain."  

The superstar acts every inch the preacher on the emotional tour-de-force. And as the final song that Prince ever performed live — on the Atlanta leg of his Piano & A Microphone tour, a week before his untimely passing — closed the curtains on a truly revolutionary career.   

GRAMMY Rewind: Lizzo Thanks Prince For His Influence After "About Damn Time" Wins Record Of The Year In 2023 

Have we really been living in a Princeless world for eight years? It doesn't feel like it. With every passing year, Planet Earth feels more of the magnitude of the Purple One's unbelievable accomplishments. Which includes the sheer body of work he left behind: his rumored mountain of unreleased material aside, have you heard all 39 of the albums he did release?

Yes, Prince Rogers Nelson was an impressive triple threat, and we'll likely never see his like again. In pop and rock history, some were wizards in the studio, but lacked charisma onstage, or vice versa: Prince was equally as mindblowing in both frameworks.

His iconic, GRAMMY Hall of Fame-inducted 1984 album Purple Rain — a soundtrack to the equally classic film — turns 40 on June 25. Of course, crank up that album's highlights — like "Let's Go Crazy," "When Doves Cry," and the immortal title track — and spin out from there to his other classics, like Dirty Mind, 1999, and Sign o' the Times.

To get a full dose of Prince, though, you've got to raid YouTube for performance footage of the seven-time GRAMMY winner through the years. Here are seven clips you've got to see.

Feast your eyes on Prince, the year Purple Rain came out. With guitarist Wendy Melvoin, keyboardist Dr. Fink, drummer Bobby Z., flanking him, even suboptimal YouTube resolution can't smother the magic and beauty. Check out this killing performance of Purple Rain's "I Would Die 4 U," where Prince's moves burn up the stage, with Sheila E. as much a percussion juggernaut as ever.

Read More: Living Legends: Sheila E. On Prince, Playing Salsa And Marching To The Beat Of Her Own Drum

"Little Red Corvette," from 1982's 1999, has always been one of Prince's most magical pop songs — maybe the most magical? This performance in central New York state borders on definitive; bathed in violet and maroon, caped and cutting a rug, a 26-year-old Prince comes across as a force of divine talent.

"I always laugh when people say he is doing a cover of this song… It's his song!" goes one YouTube commenter. That's absolutely right. Although "Nothing Compares 2 U" become an iconic hit through Sinead O'Connor's lens, it's bracing to hear the song's author nail its emotional thrust — as far fewer people have heard the original studio recording, on 1985's The Family — the sole album by the Prince-conceived and -led band of the same name.

Watch: Black Sounds Beautiful: Five Years After His Death, Prince’s Genius Remains Uncontainable

Let it be known that while Prince could shred with the best of them, he could equally hold down the pocket. This Vegas performance of "1+1+1=3," from 2001's The Rainbow Children, is a supremely funky workout — which also shows Prince's command as a bandleader, on top of the seeming dozens of other major musical roles he'd mastered by then.

Read More: Bobby Z. On Prince And The Revolution: Live & Why The Purple One Was Deeply Human

Words can't describe Prince's universe-destroying solo over the Beatles' "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," in front of an all-star band of classic rockers including Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty, and George Harrison's son, Dhani. At song's end, Prince's guitar wails for a few more rounds, he tosses his Telecaster into the pit, and he struts offstage. We'll never see his like again.

If you're the type of Super Bowl devotee who skips the Halftime Show, please — make time for Prince. When he digs into the trusty "Let's Go Crazy," it's hard not to follow suit. With fireworks blazing, and the Love Symbol brightly illumined, Prince arguably outshined the football game — as he tumbled through inspired cover after cover, by CCR, Dylan, and more. Naturally, he crescendoed with "Purple Rain," augmented by the drummers of the Marching 100.

Read More: Behind Diamonds and Pearls Super Deluxe Edition: A Fresh Look At Prince & The New Power Generation’s Creative Process

At Coachella 2008, Prince offered a bounty of karaoke-style yet intriguing covers — of the B-52's ("Rock Lobster"), Sarah McLachlan ("Angel"), Santana ("Batuka"), and more. Chief among them was his eight-minute take on Radiohead's (in)famous first hit, "Creep," with a few quixotic twists, including flipping the personal pronoun I to a very Prince-like U.

"U wish U were special, / So do I," he yelps in the pre-chorus. Oh, Prince: to quote the radio-edited, de-vulgarized chorus of "Creep," you were so very special.

8 Ways Musicology Returned Prince To His Glory Days

"Hey, hey, you, you!" There's simply no debate: when it comes to the world of pop-punk, Avril Lavigne has always been the people's princess. Bursting onto the scene with her 2002 debut Let Go, the then-teen singer/songwriter was dubbed an overnight sensation with hits like "Complicated," "Sk8er Boi" and "I'm With You."She soon became one of the primary artists driving the pop-punk explosion of the 2000s — and remains one of the genre's primary legends more than 20 years later.

Lavigne's appeal went far beyond the mass of skaters and suburban kids who devoured her early music. Within months of Let Go's release, she had earned five GRAMMY nominations (tying fellow newcomer Norah Jones for the most nods of 2003) and a year later, she racked up three more. 

As pop-punk's first wave began to crest, the singer broadened her sights beyond the genre she'd helped pioneer, exploring everything from power pop to confessional alt-rock to Christian rock, as well as collaborations with artists as varied as Marilyn Manson and Nicki Minaj. And when pop-punk's second wave hit at the start of the 2020s, Lavigne made a triumphant return to the genre with 2022's Love Sux and the 20th anniversary reissue of Let Go. 

Now, she's set to release her first-ever Greatest Hits compilation on June 21, spanning more than two decades, seven albums and nearly two dozen hits on the Billboard Hot 100. To commemorate the album (and its coinciding Greatest Hits Tour), dive into 15 tracks that assert Lavigne's undeniable title as the "motherf—in princess" of pop-punk — from hits like "Sk8er Boi" to deep cuts like "Freak Out."

What better way to begin than with the song that started it all? Released as her debut single in the spring of 2002, "Complicated" declared a then-17-year-old Avril Lavigne as a major talent to watch.

Eventually, the pop-rock ode to teenaged authenticity became one of the biggest songs of the year, and led to her debut full-length, Let Go, becoming the third highest-selling LP of 2002 in the U.S. (It's since been certified 3x platinum by the RIAA and sold more than 16 million copies around the world.)

It's hard to overstate just how influential Lavigne's breakout year was, starting with "Complicated." The track peaked at No. 2 on the Hot 100, helping the newcomer earn nominations for Best New Artist, Song Of The Year, Best Female Pop Vocal Performance and Best Pop Vocal Album (for Let Go) at the 2003 GRAMMY Awards. Its runaway success also helped launch pop-punk's explosion into the mainstream, and the proliferation of artists and female-fronted bands that followed — from Paramore, Ashlee Simpson and Kelly Clarkson to Gen Z hitmakers like Olivia Rodrigo, Billie Eilish and Meet Me @ The Altar — are indebted to Lavigne's trailblazing success with the song.

Read More: Why 2002 Was The Year That Made Pop-Punk: Simple Plan, Good Charlotte & More On How "Messing Around And Being Ourselves" Became Mainstream

"He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious?" From those 15 words, Lavigne spun a pop-punk fairy tale for the ages.

If "Complicated" was an introduction to her talent, "Sk8er Boi" was the new star's real coronation as the reigning princess of the genre. Everything about Let Go's second single is nothing short of iconic, from the star-crossed love story between a skater destined for punk rock greatness and the ballet dancer who wasn't brave enough to love him, to the lip ring and striped tie Lavigne sported in the music video (the latter of which you can still purchase to this day from her official store). 

"Sk8er Boi" dispelled any notion that the teenage upstart would be a flash in the pan relegated to one-hit wonder status. In fact, the song notched Lavigne a second consecutive Top 10 hit on the Hot 100, and landed her a fifth GRAMMY nomination at the 2003 ceremony, for Best Female Rock Vocal Performance. But the cherry on top of it all? The eleventh hour twist in the track's bridge that the ballet dancer's loss was Avril's gain.

After all the commercial success and critical acclaim showered on her in the wake of Let Go, Lavigne chose to forgo taking the easy road with another pop-infused mainstream win. Instead, she plunged into the darkness for 2004's Under My Skin, exploring post-grunge, nu metal and even hard rock influences on the punk-infused LP. The biggest hit from the album was second single "My Happy Ending," which became Lavigne's fourth No. 1 at Top 40 radio and spent four weeks in the Top 10 of the Hot 100, peaking even higher on the latter than "Sk8er Boi" had two years prior.

The downcast breakup anthem was the first time Lavigne put her broken heart on display ("All this time you were pretending/ So much for my happy ending," she lamented as the piano-driven verses swirled into a guitar-heavy chorus), and the result was an electric kiss-off delivered with equal parts anger, shock and a tinge of bitter sarcasm. 

The singer may not have gotten her happily ever after, but turning the doomed relationship into a scathing goodbye certainly earned her the last laugh: the song helped propel Under My Skin to becoming one of the top-selling albums of the year worldwide.

Read More: Loving Olivia Rodrigo's "Vampire"? Check Out 15 Songs By Alanis Morissette, Miley Cyrus & More That Reclaim The Breakup Narrative

It wasn't all doom, gloom and angry tears on Under My Skin, however. Lavigne proved she was equally adept at bouncing back from a particularly disappointing Sk8er Boi with a devilish grin and a chip on her shoulder on the bouncing "He Wasn't."

While the brash ditty wasn't officially released as a single in the U.S. — instead being pushed to radio in Europe, the United Kingdom, Australia, and her native Canada — it quickly became a fan favorite from the album. Nearly 20 years on, the song and its rowdy music video (come for Avril wearing fairy wings and a bright pink tutu, stay for her shattering a camera with the butt of her guitar) rather perfectly encapsulate the singer's place as one of the rare female voices at the forefront of the second-wave post-grunge movement. 

"Freak Out," 'Under My Skin' (2004)

Giving authority figures the middle finger has long been a hallmark of Lavigne's brand, and nowhere is that more clear than on Under My Skin deep cut "Freak Out." "Try to tell me what I shouldn't do/ You should know by now I won't listen to you," she scowls before ratcheting up the lyrical drama on the booming chorus. 

The track's second verse serves as a veritable manifesto for an entire generation of emo kids, as Lavigne offers the following advice to her fans: "You don't always have to do everything right/ Stand up for yourself and put up a fight/ Walk around with your hands up in the air/ Like you don't care." When in doubt? "Just freak out, let it go."

In retrospect, Under My Skin is often rightfully credited as one of the defining albums of pop-punk's 2000s heyday. And it's clear Lavigne is proud of the album's impact on both her career and the genre she helped pioneer, considering four of its singles — including "Don't Tell Me" and "Nobody's Home" — are included in the 20 tracks featured on her upcoming Greatest Hits compilation.

Lavigne turned the power pop up to 11 for her third album, 2007's The Best Damn Thing, and traded the myopic grunge of her previous era for a blast of sugar-coated, self-confident sass. Lead single "Girlfriend" let the singer unleash her inner pop-punk princess like never before, as she played a mean girl with a flirtatious streak who somehow made stealing another girl's man seem lovable.

The unabashed bop was the first time Lavigne proudly declared herself "the motherf—in' princess," and the song's relentless sing-song hook was so addictive that it became the star's first single to top the Hot 100. Lavigne broke several records with "Girlfriend," which became one of the best-selling songs of 2007 and the most-viewed YouTube video of 2008 — as well as the first to ever reach 100 million views on the platform. 

Still can't get enough of "Girlfriend"? Hardcore fans know that the official remix with Lil Mama might even outdo the fizzy perfection of the original. 

"The Best Damn Thing," 'The Best Damn Thing' (2007)

For the title track off The Best Damn Thing, Lavigne doubled down on the bright and bubbly persona she'd donned on "Girlfriend." In fact, the song's opening rallying cry of "Let me hear you say hey, hey, hey!" and a call-and-response bridge are so downright peppy that it seems almost hard to believe they came from the same artist who thrashed her way through Under My Skin.

Released as The Best Damn Thing's fourth and final single, the song of the same name is more melodic than its chart-topping predecessor, with Lavigne unapologetically laying out the type of treatment she expects from a man in cheerleader fashion ("Gimme an A! Always give me what I want!/ Gimme a V! Be very, very good to me!"). After all, a pop-punk princess deserves a Cinderella story of her own. 

Riding high off the commercial success of The Best Damn Thing, Lavigne kicked off the rollout for her fourth studio album, 2011's Goodbye Lullaby, with "What the Hell," a playfully bratty banger that found her toying with a love interest and vowing, "All my life I've been good/ But now I'm thinking, 'What the hell!'"

Produced and co-written by pop impresarios Max Martin and Shellback, "What the Hell" melded Lavigne's snarky songwriting sensibilities and penchant for bucking authority with a catchy, singalong refrain. But the lead single actually proved to be something of an outlier on the pop-punk princess' fourth go-around, as the rest of the album utilized a stripped-back sonic palette to lay her heartbreak bare in the wake of divorcing Sum 41 frontman Deryck Whibley.

"Bad Reputation," 'Goodbye Lullaby' (2011)

Goodbye Lullaby may have been Lavigne's first foray into a more acoustic sound — complete with introspective lyrics and surprisingly sincere song titles like "I Love You" and "Everybody Hurts" — but she couldn't resist adding a little snarl to the album's softer, more sensitive proceedings. So for the deluxe edition of the album, she featured her take on Joan Jett's classic 1980 single "Bad Reputation" as a bonus track. 

Lavigne had originally recorded "Bad Reputation" for the soundtrack to the Japanese anime feature film One Piece Film: Z (it even reached the top 10 on Japan's Hot 100!). But she apparently liked the cover so much that it ended up on the track list of not one, but two of her albums, as the song was also included on 2013's Avril Lavigne.

Even as she approached her thirties, Lavigne wasn't about to give up her spot as pop-rock's resident wild child. Case in point: "Here's to Never Growing Up," the lead single off her fifth album, 2013's Avril Lavigne. Over a peppy stomp-clap rhythm, the singer shouts out an undying love of Radiohead, dancing on bar tops and making late-night memories with your best friends as the boombox blares all your favorite songs.

There's a thread of bittersweet nostalgia running through the midtempo jam — one that's sure to pierce the heart of any millennial listening as Lavinge sings, "Say, won't you say 'forever'?/ Stay, if you stay forever/ Hey, we can stay forever young." It's not that the singer's refusing to acknowledge the cruel act of getting older on the track, she's just rebelling against the notion that adulthood should be a dreary slog of, you know, taxes and laundry and all of those lame adult responsibilities. 

Lavigne once again put her middle finger to the sky and re-upped her rock star credentials on the appropriately titled "Rock N Roll," the second single off her self-titled album. The spirited singalong finds the singer reveling in her eternally bad attitude as she wails, "I don't care if I'm a misfit/ I like better than the hipster bulls–/ I am the motherf—in' princess/ You still love it."

Though "Rock N Roll" didn't make quite as much of an impact on the charts as some of the other hits on this list, it remains one of the most underrated bangers in her entire discography. Plus, the song gifted fans with the campy, comic book-inspired music video starring Lavinge, Danica McKellar, a drunk-driving Doberman and one very unlucky lobster as they race across a dystopian wasteland to save rock and roll from the clutches of an evil bear-shark. (Billy Zane shows up on a rocket-powered Segway at some point, too — just go with it.)

Proving that pop-punk doesn't always have to come with an in-your-face, "f— you!" attitude, Lavigne released "Head Above Water" — the lead single and title track to her 2019 album — five years into an often confusing, devastating and all-consuming battle with Lyme disease.

"One night I thought I was dying, and I had accepted that I was going to die," she revealed at the time of the song's unveiling. "My mom laid with me in bed and held me. I felt like I was drowning. Under my breath, I prayed, 'God, please help to keep my head above the water.' In that moment, the songwriting of this album began."

Lavigne taps into a truly admirable well of resilience and hope on the spiritual ballad as she sings, "Yeah, my life is what I'm fighting for/ Can't part the sea, can't reach the shore/ And my voice becomes the driving force/ I won't let this pull me overboard." Unlike anything that's come from the singer's catalog either before or since, "Head Above Water" remains a powerful testament to the beloved pop-punk princess' inner strength.

As the 2010s gave way to a new decade, pop-punk made a surprise resurgence in popularity while Lavigne was making major moves of her own; she left BMG after just one album to sign with Travis Barker's DTA Records in 2021 (about which she fittingly declared, "Let's f— s— up!"). Partnering with the blink-182 drummer sparked some serious magic in the studio, as her seventh studio album, 2022's Love Sux was a wildly entertaining return to her pop-punk roots after the emotional catharsis of Head Over Water.

On lead single "Bite Me," Lavigne effortlessly dusted off her crown and reclaimed her throne with an octave-jumping vocal performance. Along with proving she still has the chops, the singer simply sounds like she's having a hell of a lot of fun as she snaps back at an ex-flame who made the mistake of crossing her. Pop-punk's reigning princess? Try queen.

Read More: How 'Love Sux' Led Avril Lavigne To True Love, Her First Fangirl Moment And An Album Process That Was 'Just Stupid Fun'

"All I Wanted" feat. Mark Hoppus, 'Love Sux' (2022)

Lavigne collaborated with plenty of special guests on Love Sux, from blackbear (on love-drunk single "Love It When You Hate Me") to eventual tourmate Machine Gun Kelly (on delicious battle of the sexes "Bois Lie"), but no other duet on the album holds a candle to "All I Wanted" featuring blink-182's Mark Hoppus. 

The supercharged deep cut features the two trailblazers rocking out in a whirling dervish of escapist bliss, playing a sort of pop-punk Bonnie and Clyde as they bust out of the town they're stuck in. And in doing so, they proved they're more than happy to show the new kids at the rock show just how it's done.

And finally, a proper celebration of Lavigne's status as pop-punk royalty wouldn't be complete without including the biggest song she ever gave to another artist. As the story goes, the singer/songwriter originally penned "Breakaway" for her debut album, but the hope-filled anthem didn't quite fit with the vibe of Let Go tracks like "Complicated," "Sk8er Boi," "Losing Grip," and "I'm With You." So instead, she gave it to a fresh-faced newcomer by the name of Kelly Clarkson, who had just come off of winning a little reality TV experiment called "American Idol." 

After being featured on the soundtrack to The Princess Diaries 2, "Breakaway" became the centerpiece and title track of Clarkson's 2004 sophomore album, which helped turn her into a bonafide superstar — and the rest, as they say, is history. 

Lavigne started performing the song live for the first time on her 2019 Head Above Water Tour, which naturally left fans clamoring for a studio version. Blessedly, the pop-punk icon gave them exactly what they wanted by revisiting "Breakaway" in the recording studio for the 20th anniversary edition of Let Go in 2022. She even reinstated her original lyrics in the opening stanza ("Grew up in a small town/ And when the snow would fall down/ I'd just stare out my window") for a personal touch that connected back to her roots in Greater Napanee, Ontario. 

Clarkson may have made the song famous, but the beating heart of "Breakaway" will always be Lavigne's story — one of a small-town girl who bet on herself, only to become a trailblazing artist whose legacy is forever cemented in the pop-punk history books. 

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