The first season ended with a cliffhanger – did Jen kill Steve or not? But what is most poignant about the second season is not who killed him, but how well the show deals with grief, writes Charlotte Cripps

A third film is also in the works

Show's 2013 winner was approached by store detectives after she appeared to not pay for her shopping

Davidson is currently quarantining in his mother's basement

In celebration of his 94th birthday

High-concept drama is just waiting to be binged

The show ran for six seasons from 2009 to 2015

Tesla CEO is back on Joe Rogan's podcast

Show promises a 'funny and hopeful look at the search for love, sex and connection during this time of social distancing'

Holmes came under fire for giving validity to a conspiracy theory linking 5G to coronavirus

The 'Normal People' star played an Irish teenager whose sausage inspires him to travel the world

Scott was best known for playing Moriarty opposite Benedict Cumberbatch in 'Sherlock'

Director's new series stars Andre Holland as a once-famous American jazz pianist who has been unable to play since his son died

Joseph Maldonado-Passage was sentenced in January to 22 years in prison

Channel 4 star came to fame alongside her husband Leon, who died in 2017

In our current climate, we need the escapism of musicals more than ever, writes Isobel Lewis. So why haven't television networks jumped on the bandwagon?

'Roy was a fighter his whole life including during these final days,' his partner Siegfried Fischbacher said

TV presenter, wife Stephanie and their daughters played a game of Murder Mystery

Actor is famous for making her opinions known during interviews

Food writer Alison Roman accused Teigen of having people 'run a content farm' for her

(Matador)
The indie maverick is a purveyor of all styles on his studiously eclectic 12th album

There’s a strange psychological cross-pollination going on behind the mask that Will Toledo, the artist mostly known as Car Seat Headrest, sports on the cover of his 12th album. Indulging an alter ego called Trait, Making a Door Less Open seeks out deliberately eclectic hybrids of his wry, lo-fi indie rock style (heir to the likes of Beck, Lou Barlow and Eels) and the satirical EDM he and his drummer Andrew Katz make as 1 Trait Danger. The result is much better than anyone who’s heard the latter, who often veer perilously close to a Bloodhound Gang remix project, might expect: Can’t Cool Me Down has a sultry 80s electropop feel, while the roil of self-deprecation and naked emotion on There Must Be More Than Blood underlines Toledo’s debt to LCD Soundsystem.

The new styles don’t all gel. The sleazy, fuzzy synth-rocker Hollywood is pleasingly punchy, but brought down by facile lyrics (apparently Tinsel Town isn’t the dreamland it’s cracked up to be – who knew?). Two sister songs – the lumpen alt-rock Deadlines (Hostile) and the Hot Chip-with-extra-dour Deadlines (Thoughtful) – fail to charm, while What’s With You Lately is a wan, mopey strum that seems to have wandered in from an entirely different, very bad record. But on the likes of the pulsing, uplifting Famous and Life Worth Missing, Toledo finds new energy.

Singer who also worked with Ted Nugent and Megadeth dies at Florida home of a heart attack

Brian Howe, the singer who fronted the British rock supergroup Bad Company for eight years, has died aged 66. He had a heart attack at his Florida home.

Howe’s manager Paul Easton said: “It is with deep and profound sadness that we announce the untimely passing of a loving father, friend and musical icon.”

Continue reading...

As a pioneering female DJ duo, the two best friends were integral to the rise of the 90s dance scene, before a car accident changed everything. Storm talks about the soul sister she lost

Storm remembers the sound of glass shattering, but not how many seconds or minutes had passed before she realised something awful had happened. A 4.5kg metal cat’s eye had been dislodged from the road ahead by a passing van, and had smashed through their car windshield on the passenger side. It left Kemistry – her best friend and partner in one of the UK’s most pioneering drum’n’bass outfits – with devastating injuries. Minutes later, she died.

“I’ve had some really dark times and really dark thoughts,” says Storm, 20 years on from the accident. “Thoughts about me not being here, about going to join her.”

The Nigerian musician was a restless creator who embraced the physicality of drumming and innovated until the end

• Tony Allen’s 10 best tracks
• News report: Afrobeat co-founder Tony Allen dies aged 79

Few musicians can claim to have invented a revolutionary rhythm, but then few are quite like the late Afrobeat pioneer Tony Allen. Brian Eno called him “the greatest drummer that ever lived”, citing his style alongside James Brown’s funk breakbeat and the constant pulse of German band Neu! as the “three great beats of the 1970s”. Allen’s swirl of jazz, Yoruba and highlife was unlike anything the world had ever heard: a full-body polyrhythmic workout that would give most drummers sore wrists just thinking of it.

Allen came to prominence in Lagos alongside Fela Kuti. He started drumming in the late 50s while working at a radio station, looking to jazz icons such as Art Blakey and Max Roach for inspiration as he taught himself to play. In 1964 he met Kuti and they spent the next half-decade fine-tuning their fusion of west African party music and American funk and jazz, in the bands Koola Lobitos and, by 1969, Africa ’70. While Kuti, who died in 1997, is more well-known than his musical soulmate, he said that “without Tony Allen there would be no Afrobeat”.

Angélique Kidjo, Jeff Mills, Sébastien Tellier and more remember the late drummer: his humility, his brilliance, and his awesome sportswear

The keyboardist, who has died aged 71 of coronavirus, upended the rules of punk with organ arpeggios and a moustache – and pointed the way to post-punk

Music writer Pete Paphides’ recent memoir, Broken Greek, contains a vivid description of its seven-year-old author encountering the Stranglers for the first time, during a 1977 Top of the Pops appearance. “They landed in the living room while I was totally unsupervised,” he writes, “and scared the shit [out] of me. By now I would have seen images of punk rockers … but they looked like circus entertainers compared to [the Stranglers]. They looked too old to be punk. They looked like the sort of people you pass in the street and your mother puts her arm round you, stares at the pavement and doubles her walking speed … The point at which it all got too much was when the camera cut to Dave Greenfield – who has died from Covid-19 aged 71 – jabbing his keyboard while looking straight ahead with what seemed, beyond doubt, to be the eyes of a murderer, an effect somehow compounded by the army-surplus boiler suit he had decided to wear. Just like that, my list of phobias had got a little longer: worms, biting into mushrooms, insects, the fibreglass King Kong which stood next to a ring road in Birmingham city centre and, now, Dave Greenfield from the Stranglers.”

It’s funny writing, but it’s also very incisive about the Stranglers: in real life Greenfield was, by all accounts, the band’s most approachable and charming member, but otherwise Paphides has it spot-on. The Stranglers complained relentlessly about not being accepted by the punk cognoscenti, but what did they expect? They didn’t look like punks, particularly Greenfield, who defiantly sported that least punk of facial accoutrements, a moustache. They were old, at least by the standards of the day, old enough to have the kind of musical pasts it was wise to keep your mouth shut about in the scorched-earth environment created by the Sex Pistols: Hugh Cornwell had played bass in a band with Richard Thompson, later of Fairport Convention; Greenfield had been in a prog rock band called Rusty Butler.

The Kraftwerk co-founder remained a mystery even after death, but there is no doubting the impact he made with his group’s sublime, visionary music

• News: Florian Schneider, Kraftwerk co-founder, dies aged 73

Florian Schneider’s death came shrouded in a degree of secrecy. Gossip among fans about his health was first provoked at the end of April, when his fellow former Kraftwerk member Wolfgang Flür posted a sweet photo on social media of him and Schneider together in a bar, without explanation.

It had apparently been taken in 2016 – a decade and a half after Schneider and fellow founder member Ralf Hütter had served Flür with a lawsuit provoked by his autobiography I Was a Robot – and was subsequently deleted from Flür’s Facebook page. Then, a week later, another electronic musician based in Germany, the Manchester-born Mark Reeder, posted a brief eulogy; one commenter claimed that Schneider had died “several days ago”.

(Clover Music)
With this long-awaited fourth album, the former teen idol has finally arrived as the kind of artist she was always meant to be

‘Look at me now” is a fitting opening line for Good to Know, the fourth studio album from R&B singer JoJo. The artist has been on a storied journey through the music industry and the public eye: first emerging as the 13-year-old singer of Leave (Get Out), she then spent years mired in legal disputes with her label that prevented her releasing music. After reigniting her passionate fanbase with a string of independent, darker-sounding mixtapes (and one viral Drake cover), she released Mad Love, her long-delayed third album, in 2016. But Good to Know, released on her own imprint Clover Music, with its themes of independence and self-knowledge, carries with it a sense that she has finally arrived as the kind of artist she was always meant to be.

(Pias)
Since his last outing, the south London musician and producer has eased up and moved to Margate. Yet this atmospheric return still carries the weight of the world

Ghostpoet – the brooding alias of south London-born Obaro Ejimiwe – is roughly a decade old this year. This dour bard has long been an artist ahead of his time. A track such as Cash and Carry Me Home, one of the highlights of his eclectic, jazz-inflected debut album – 2011’s Peanut Butter Blue and Melancholy Jam – defied genre as it mourned the self-inflicted pain of one drink too many. It now locates Ghostpoet as roughly adjacent to the south London jazz renaissance of the past few years – a multi-hyphenate scene in which most things go. Were it to be released today, its languorous, self-aware aperçus would find an even more receptive audience.

(Matador)
Will Toledo’s alt-rockers have emerged out of lo-fi fuzz, but seem unsure of where to turn as they drift toward the mainstream

Anyone wondering how things have changed in the world of lauded US alt-rockers Car Seat Headrest might consider the four years that separate Making a Door Less Open from their last album of new material. Ordinarily there would be nothing unusual about that gap – but in the first four years of Car Seat Headrest’s existence, its mastermind, Will Toledo, released seven albums (one of them a two-hour double), four EPs (one of them as long as an album) and two compilations of outtakes. That’s more than 150 songs and 12 hours of music: a lo-fi spewing forth of ideas that won Toledo a cult following, which then grew exponentially, both in size and rabidity, when he recruited a band and signed to the august US indie label Matador.

OVO
There are flashes of skill and rawness in this odds-and-ends mixtape but it feels like a clumsy lunge at commercial success

In a world where the boundary between mixtapes and albums is becoming ever more blurred, the title of Drake’s latest album highlights its interstitial nature. That said, it’s still slightly misleading. There are tracks here that sound like demos – the mopey James Blake-isms of Chicago Freestyle are audibly unpolished – but for the most part, it ’s a way of collecting up leftovers and leaks, spare tracks he apparently has lying around the studio.

Those inclined to view Drake’s career with a cool eye might be surprised he has any spare tracks lying around the studio, given the state of his last album. Listening to Scorpion, 25 songs long, required a certain degree of mental stamina: you needed to steel yourself against the panicky sensation that you might die of old age before it ended. But it wasn’t the sheer quantity that was the problem so much as the quality of what was there. Scorpion had its moments but was so hopelessly uneven that it was easy to buy into the theory that its length was not due to its author’s teeming multiplicity of fantastic ideas, but an attempt to game the streaming services: more songs means more streams, more streams means a higher chart placing.

(Family Hour/Thirty Tigers)
Sean and Sara Watkins are back and in reflective mood

California’s Sean and Sara Watkins are akin to royalty in American folk circles, firstly as founding members of the hugely successful Nickel Creek, and secondly as hosts of an 18-year residency at LA’s Largo club, where they perform alongside invited guests. Brother Sister draws on both strands of their history. Like its self-titled 2015 predecessor, the album sets aside the pizzazz of Nickel Creek for a down-home approach, but instead of boisterous, star-studded cover versions come five original songs and a minimal musical palette.

Alternating on lead, the pair’s vocals remain a model of sibling harmony, while the interplay between Sean’s intricate guitar picking and Sara’s elegant fiddle is similarly impressive – the breakneck bluegrass instrumental Bella and Ivan is a case in point. Mostly, however, the mood is reflective. Lafayette and Miles of Desert Sand chronicle the search for a better life, and Fake Badge, Real Gun is an artful snipe at Trump – “Throw your tantrums but the truth will be waiting”. Warren Zevon’s forlorn Accidentally Like a Martyr fits in neatly, while Charley Jordan’s ribald Keep It Clean is a gleeful example of a Largo session.

(Orchid Classics)
Natalya Romaniw (soprano), Lada Valešová (piano)
The on-the-rise soprano excels in this deeply personal Russian-Czech recital

Born in Swansea of Ukrainian descent, the outstanding young soprano Natalya Romaniw was singing – stunningly – the title role of Puccini’s Madam Butterfly at English National Opera when Covid-19 restrictions forced the abrupt termination of the run. She should also have performed the title role of Dvořák’s water nymph, Rusalka, at Garsington Opera this summer, where she made an impact in Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin in 2016 and Smetana’s The Bartered Bride last summer. Disappointing for her at this turning point of her career, and for her growing number of fans.

Romaniw’s new album, Arion: Voyage of a Slavic Soul – dedicated to the memory of her Ukrainian grandfather, “my great musical inspiration”, explores repertoire by the Russians Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsakov and Rachmaninov, and the Czechs Dvořák, Janáček and Novák. The pianist Lada Valešová captures the varied colours of the piano writing expertly, an equal and supportive partner. These 28 songs, especially the folk-rich examples by Janáček and Novák, suit Romaniw’s generous, big-toned voice, its timbre flecked and speckled with character and emotion. The eight songs by Dvořák grouped as Love Songs, Op 83, melancholy and lyrical, make us even more impatient to hear her Rusalka when the time comes.

US indie rock maverick Will Toledo is back with an experimental album that finds him collaborating with his own electronic side project

You cannot accuse Car Seat Headrest, AKA Will Toledo, of taking the easy route. Four years on from the release of breakthrough record Teens of Denial, Toledo is back with new album Making a Door Less Open, only now he is going under the name Trait and is wearing a gas mask in photos. Toledo’s restless and impassioned indie rock is looking a little different, too. The new album blends his classic songwriting chops with a bold exploration of electronic textures. This is the result of essentially making the album twice: once as Car Seat Headrest, and again alongside producer Andrew Katz as their jokey EDM side project 1 Trait Danger, before landing on a middle ground.

Related: The Guide: Staying In – sign up for our home entertainment tips

The musician on DIY smooching, dinner parties and why he won’t do interviews between 1.45pm and 2.15pm

Raised in Sheffield, Heaton, 57, founded the Housemartins in the early eighties. They had hit singles with Happy Hour and Caravan Of Love before splitting in 1988. Heaton then formed the Beautiful South, releasing 10 albums before disbanding in 2007. With former band member Jacqui Abbott, Heaton has released three albums, the most recent being Manchester Calling. He is married with three children and lives in Manchester.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Forgetfulness.

Curtis Jackson was shot nine times before becoming one of the world’s biggest rappers. He discusses growing up, getting rich and the art of the hustle

Curtis Jackson has downsized. The rapper/actor/businessman, better known as 50 Cent, used to live in a palace of a house formerly owned by Mike Tyson. Not any more. He has been in self-isolation for six weeks and is more than happy to make do with a three-bed apartment (on four floors, mind) in New York. He can’t remember when he was last in one place for so long, he says, and is learning about himself. “I’ve become a bit more comfortable with being in my own space. I don’t think being at home is a punishment.”

He bought the Tyson house after his triumphant first album; Get Rich Or Die Tryin’ shifted 12m copies in 2003, making it the bestselling album of the year. It was explosive – growling rap packed with threats, boasts and great songs such as In Da Club and Many Men.

The Welsh nurse-turned-indie rocker is now one of electronic music’s best exponents. She talks proving herself, the NHS and climate-crisis bangers

Kelly Lee Owens is showing me her crumpled bed, pixelated on the screen. It is five weeks into quarantine and this has quickly become the norm: an interview with an artist in their close quarters; ambivalent levels of grooming. Neither of us is wearing makeup, and neither of us care. “You know what I read?” begins the electronic musician, incredulously. “This is bullshit. There’s a [Daily Mail] headline saying that women’s breasts will be sagging because they’re not going to be wearing bras during this lockdown. So what?! Leave me to my saggy breasts.”

Related: The Guide: Staying In – sign up for our home entertainment tips

Our Listener’s Digest series continues with the unlikely major-label star and electronic music pioneer who emerged from the New York art world

• Read all the other Listener’s digest pieces
• The best arts and entertainment during self-isolation

Big Science (1982)

The cult pop star shares her self-isolation favourites, including Dua Lipa’s disco and Daft Punk’s dystopias

• The best arts and entertainment during self-isolation

Isolation has definitely been a test, but I’m really lucky: I’m able to work on new music while quarantined with my best friends in Toluca Lake, Los Angeles. I’ve been super active on Twitter and Instagram, and playing Animal Crossing and Mario Kart with my fans after sharing my Nintendo Switch codes online – it’s really important for me to check in on my fans as I worry about them a lot. They have truly kept me sane, so I’m keeping an eye open for anybody that needs to talk.

Related: Belle and Sebastian's lockdown listening: 'I have a dance-off with my kids every night'

Ty, who has died aged 47 of coronavirus, was a sharp and witty MC who ably nourished the UK hip-hop scene despite being ignored by the media

• Mercury prize-nominated UK rapper Ty dies of coronavirus

The death of British rapper Ty, aged 47, to complications from coronavirus came as a shock because it had appeared he was on his way to recovery after being moved out of intensive care. And for those of us who grew up with Ty’s voice circling our bedrooms, the shock resonates: this is an artist who touched so many with his humour and sharpness on the mic.

While all eyes were on grime in the early 2000s, Ty was charting a journey to a frontier that had yet to be fully explored. In 2001, he released his debut album, Awkward, on Big Dada, one of the few labels that would give a home to UK hip-hop acts such as Roots Manuva, Juice Aleem and Speech Debelle. It was the year of era-defining US albums such as Jay-Z’s The Blueprint and Nas’s Stillmatic, when the mainstream had gone the way of the shiny suit. But across the Atlantic, Ty ushered in the UK’s own hip-hop golden age, leaning towards the genre’s soul, jazz and funk origins.

The Liverpool singer-songwriter shifts effortlessly from alt-R&B to melodic, country-tinged pop

“You can be very creative using very little… I actually prefer having less to work with because that way you need to use more of your imagination,” the Liverpool-born Jetta told The Line of Best Fit last month. That spareness and sense of freedom is audible in her work, which she writes, records and produces herself. Her sound recalls the alt-R&B of Kelela or the xx, or the intimate balladry of Jessie Ware, but where mere copyists would hang endlessly on a yearning chorus and a dark blue mood, Jetta knows when to shift it up with a smart melodic left turn or a deft change of pace.

Now based in London, she’s been singing since she was four – her father was a recording engineer, her mother a choirmaster – and performing solo and singing backing vocals for the likes of Paloma Faith since she was 17, streamlining the powerful, punchy, soulful pop of her 2014 EP, Start a Riot, to a subtler, smokier style. That experience tells in her rich voice, the versatility of which recalls FKA twigs or Martina Topley-Bird. She switches easily from the bruised and contemplative Friend to the popping UK garage bop of Livin’ to the country-tinged, compulsive chime of forthcoming single I Wanna Know: a world of sound in a formidable one-woman operation.