Stage & idols

1920s–'40s swing horns and vocals plugged into modern house beats.

Disco samples, filter sweeps and robotic vocals: the French turned the '70s dance floor into glittering house.

Bright synth chords swell in the drop like a colourful emotional firework.

Max out the hype in 89 seconds: fast guitars, a declarative chorus and a title you can shout.

Group unison, sparkling arrangements and gaps left for the crowd's chants, songs written for cheering.

Showa-style hero themes: brass fanfares, male voices shouting attack names, robots and heroes charging out.

With no real singer present, a voice can still become a character people create together.

Turns excessive cuteness, repetition and strange logic into a channel of its own.

Speed a song up, raise its pitch, add an anime picture: an online remix culture that grew out of a Norwegian school project.

Swinging rhythm and blues plus country guitar, the first time teens screamed for music of their own.

One guitar riff, a big drum kit and one voice can fill a whole stadium.

When everyday identity is too narrow, create a bolder self in the spotlight.

Offbeat guitar "chk-chk" plus horns, bouncy joy you dance with bent knees.

Puts shadow, theatre and bodily rhythm into the same song.

Britain sung out loud: anthem choruses, guitar pop and working-class swagger.

Rock shouted out of hutong rehearsal rooms: raw, direct, carrying northern wind and poetry.

Fast, intensely melodic and emotionally full, the sound behind countless anime openings.

Music, body and look become a character together, and that character's fragility is sung to the whole venue.

Distortion, speed and myth turned up to the maximum, making power itself the story.

Big hair, spandex and shout-along choruses, the shiniest party metal of the '80s.

Fast double kick, soaring vocals and heroic sagas make metal bright and uplifting.

Orchestra, choir and metal band together, turning heaviness into opera.

Screams tear the wound open; the clean-sung chorus pulls you back.

Heavy metal guitars and drums with sweet J-pop idol melodies and choreography: cute and violent, both turned up to the max.

Gives a community, a person and a way of life a place to speak on their own beat.

Writes the tone, rhymes and personal stance of the Korean language into beats the body can hear.

Church fire carried into the street, one voice singing a whole community's dignity.

Four-on-the-floor and shimmering strings, inviting everyone to be the star of the same night.

Choir, organ and handclaps singing faith into joy that shakes the whole church.

Four or five singers around one microphone: the bass sings "bom bom", the lead takes the tune, sweet '50s street-corner harmony.

Hip-hop swing beats plus R&B harmonies, the coolest street dance music of the late '80s.

Pop built for both the dance floor and the charts: big hooks, four-on-the-floor and shiny production.

A love song that unfolds slowly and erupts at the end, singing one line until everyone cries.

Pop from Showa-era TV music shows: orchestral arrangements, idol smiles and a touch of sentiment.

Precise electronic production turns pop melody into a recognisable character and stage.

Weaves melody, dance and vocal roles into a stage language the world can remember.

An oom-pah two-beat and vibrato-laden singing, Korea's most nostalgic yet festive popular song.

Peking and Kunqu opera vocals brought into pop; one line of opera singing lifts the chorus.

Bright, round, crisply enunciated high notes between folk song and bel canto: the most familiar Chinese sound of gala stages.

A whole horn section swinging together, so nobody on the dance floor can stay still.

Candlelight, a piano trio and one singer: jazz standards sung lazy, sultry and unhurried.

The bandoneón's sighs and staccato writing a dangerous love story in a dim dance hall.

The rolling rhythm of a full percussion corps, the heartbeat of the carnival parade.

Rapid guitar rasgueado, handclaps and footwork, with a heart-rending voice.

Trumpets and tubas racing in odd meters, like a street wedding that won't stop.

Big song-and-dance numbers from Bollywood films: strings, tabla and electronic beats all making a grand entrance.

The surging passion of a large orchestra: storms, love and national epics.

Bel canto voices filling a whole theatre without mics, with orchestra telling of love, hate and fate.

Shamisen, shakuhachi and taiko meet rock or electronics, a Japanese night under lanterns.

Characters drive the plot through song, orchestra and chorus pushing emotion to a showstopper.