For All Time opens with a swish lover-man theme flecked with Clavinet, brass, woodwinds, and Jessica Childress' breathy vocal. Over the course of Andrew Cohen's sixth Mayer Hawthorne album, multiple variations on that intro bubble up as brief interludes, conceivably serving a second purpose for Hawthorne shows -- breaks for Cohen to switch outfits or maybe wheel out a mobile wine cellar. Although the peacocking could come off as histrionic, it befits an album exhibiting easy confidence and fully satisfied romantic indulgence. It also helps that Cohen, despite having leveled up with outside writing and production for Doja Cat, Jordan Ward, and Chika, still doesn't present Hawthorne as too-serious a character. Typifying the man's innate aptitude for applying a little self-deprecation to his debonair persona, "The Pool," a spangled psych-soul fantasy, carries a cautionary line about the dangers of being fair-skinned in blistering sunlight. Other than that escapist highlight, For All Time glows with real-life conviction offered with subtle winks that somehow don't make a listener doubt Cohen's sincerity. The wedding playlist-bound title song from a lyrical standpoint is simple love balladry, but it's elevated by a nuanced lead from Cohen that communicates delight, relief, and gratitude. Brighter and even more effective are the relaxed disco throwback "On the Floor" (quoting and name-checking Shalamar over a melodic Blu DeTiger bassline), the churning ballad "Deeper Vibration," and the future lowrider oldie "Tell Me," along with the funkier slink of the Jesse Boykins III collaboration "Physical Touch" ("Send me that pin, I'm on the way/Get the job done like Big Daddy Kane"). Overall, there's more sonic likeness to the first Hawthorne LP, A Strange Arrangement, than there is to any of the relatively polished and varied four that followed it. Cohen as usual is the primary musician, playing an average of six instruments per song -- the basics to glockenspiel and Mellotron -- and produces with some help from Rodaidh McDonald, Imad Royal, and Michael Brun. A fleet bonus cover of the Edge of Daybreak's 1979 dancefloor soul obscurity "Eyes of Love" is an inspired finishing touch, not something Cohen could have pulled off with as much vocal and multi-instrumentalist skill back in 2009. Take that to the bank.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

Shania Twain entered a self-imposed exile following the supporting tour for 2002's Up!, suffering from a then-undisclosed contraction of Lyme disease. Troubles compounded, as they often do. Twain split from her husband, Robert John "Mutt" Lange, in 2008, a traumatic event on its own that was complicated by the fact that he was her collaborator on the blockbusters The Woman in Me (1995), Come on Over (1997), and Up! This meant she had to start over personally and professionally, which explains the long delay between Up! and Now, which was released in September of 2017. Many trends have come and gone during that 15-year gap and Twain -- assisted by not one producer but a roundtable, as is standard for 21st century blockbusters -- decides to split the difference between chasing fashion and staying true to her glitzy country-pop. It's a tricky move made harder by the fact that so much of her '90s appeal rested on her unfettered exuberance, and that sunniness is understandably tarnished due to the bruises she sustained during her difficult hiatus. Twain addresses this pain on Now -- sometimes directly, sometimes elliptically -- but she makes it plain that she's come out from the darkness, celebrating that she's "Home Now" with the "Light of My Life" and "Life's About to Get Good." Worthy sentiments all, but the problem is these songs -- and Now in general -- don't feel nearly as bright and cheerful as Twain's records with Lange, nor do they deliver the same kind of sweet, sentimental rush on the ballads. Now is melodically undernourished, with hooks never quite materializing in either the choruses or the excessively polished arrangements designed to support Twain, not sell the tracks. That production, a mishmash of Vegas showstoppers and feints toward the electronic-glazed AAA charts, feels as hesitant and inarticulate as the songs. Sometimes, Twain's signature charm surfaces -- "Because of You" (present only in the album's 16-track Deluxe Edition) has a lovely, gentle sway, "You Can't Buy Love" is a fizzy bit of bubblegum in the vein of Amy Winehouse's "Valerie" -- but Now feels fussy, as if every element was triple-guessed because the pressure to have a triumphant comeback was too great.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Five albums by Al Jarreau are bundled together for this U.K.-issued release in the Original Album Series. There's We Got By (1975), Glow (1976), All Fly Home (1978), This Time (1980), and Breakin' Away (1981). Each disc is packaged individually within a thin cardboard pouch that replicates the front and back sleeve design of the original release. Some casual fans might be disappointed that the compact box leaves out the double-live album Look to the Rainbow, but this is a rather affordable way to obtain the singer's first five studio albums for the Warner Bros. label.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

Originally issued as two separate EPs in 2007, Avantasia's Lost in Space doubleheader never received an official physical release in North America, so the chances that this handy single-CD repack that emerged the following year will piss off their fans are slim to none -- especially with an ABBA cover, "Lay Your Love All Over Me," on hand to draw the brunt of spiteful indignity from the heavy metal faithful. And it doesn't end there; Lost in Space also features a rocking waltz through "Dancing with Tears in My Eyes," by '80s synth-happy new romantics Ultravox; a suitably rococo sashay across Freddie Mercury's slick solo single, "In My Defense"; and, least controversial of all, a faithful bash over one of metal's all-time classic '70s obscurities, "Ride the Sky," by German cult favorites Lucifer's Friend. All of which should make it obvious to close-minded metal heads that Lost in Space -- far from being the musically progressive, two-part concept album that its title might suggest -- is in fact a sojourn into more accessible songwriting regions for Tobias Sammet's pet project. But for those who can appreciate a few well-done cover versions like the above, as well as a couple of well-wrought commercial rock songs, there's much to like about the incredibly infectious modern AOR of the title track (available in three different incarnations, no less) and the flamboyant über-ballad "The Story Ain't Over," boasting a duet with frequent Avantasia collaborator Amanda Somerville. Power metal isn't missing entirely, mind you, just accounting for a minority share for once, via familiar-sounding offerings like "Another Angel Down," "Promised Land," and the Iron Maiden-esque "Scary Eyes." And that's it; all done! That wasn't so bad now, was it? Sure, although the ABBA track may lead to endless ribbing from his metal buddies, Sammet's creative vision for Lost in Space is ultimately about as consistent and impressive as it is for all his other projects, making these oftentimes surprising song choices less important than the element of pleasant surprise that comes with them. © Eduardo Rivadavia /TiVo

This is a rather incredible collection: ten CDs enclosed in a tight black box that includes every one of the recordings Verve owns of Billie Holiday, not only the many studio recordings of 1952-57 (which feature Lady Day joined by such jazz all-stars as trumpeters Charlie Shavers and Harry "Sweets" Edison, altoist Benny Carter, and the tenors of Flip Phillips, Paul Quinichette and Ben Webster). Also included are prime performances at Jazz at the Philharmonic concerts in 1945-1947, an enjoyable European gig from 1954, her "comeback" Carnegie Hall concert of 1956, Holiday's rather sad final studio album from 1959, and even lengthy tapes from two informal rehearsals. It's a perfect purchase for the true Billie Holiday fanatic.© Scott Yanow /TiVo

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