“We are not serious when we are 17.” But Billie Eilish has all the marks of a serious young lady and someone who we should indeed take seriously. At the age of sixteen she released the noteworthy Don’t Smile at Me, an EP created with the help of her older brother, Finneas O’Connell. The EP is comprised of the singles Copycat, Bellyache and Ocean Eyes and was posted two years earlier on Soundcloud when Eilish was just 14 years old. Critics hailed her music due to its depiction of a lost adolescent with bleached hair, dressed in oversized sweaters. With the album When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? and its strange title and shocking cover, Eilish and her dark hair flaunt their more obscure side. One is immediately struck with how well polished Finneas O’Connell’s production is after an intro in which Eilish jokingly mocks her brother for his Invisalign (a kind of invisible dental brace). The first track Bad Guy features an EDM beat which contrasts with the dreaminess of the subsequent Xanny. The rest of the album follows this trend, weaving together both harsh and soft songs combined with the mature lyrics of a girl who was diagnosed with Tourette’s at the age of 11 and speaks of Xanax and young girls descent into a hellish existence. In this mix of gloomy pop and creepy trap beats, Eilish excels. A real eye-opener. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

Not only is Isabelle Faust one of the greatest violinists of our age (and perhaps all ages), but she  is also blessed with a powerful curiosity, seemingly always on the lookout for composers and  repertoire off the beaten track, as a glance at her discography will show. This collection of compositions by the eccentric genius Pietro Antonio Locatelli, is a splendid illustration of Faust's adventuresome repertoire. Locatelli's violin works run the gamut, from  staggering virtuosity, exemplified here by his Concerto for Violin in A, Op. 3, No. 11, where the  composer stretches the capabilities of both violin and violinist, to the achingly  beautiful and tender Concerto Grosso in E-Flat, Il pianto d'Arianna, Op. 7, No. 6. Faust is easily up to all the challenges posed: the jaw-dropping difficulties of the Concerto in A—including  finger-busting double stops and high notes (16th position!) played just a fraction of an inch  from the bridge—as well as the gorgeous lyricism of Il pianto d'Arianna. Also on this release are other works by Locatelli that are all striking in their originality and played with equal aplomb by  Faust and sensitively accompanied by Giovanni Antonini and his forces. © Anthony Fountain/Qobuz

As far as sophomore slumps go, bands have done a whole lot worse than The Black Crowes. Their debut, Shake Your Money Maker, blew through the stultified 1990 mainstream rock scene with a shameless pillaging of southern rock, Memphis soul, and arena swagger that may have been largely unoriginal, but was delivered with such infectious, sleazy sincerity that it was unsurprising that it racked up hit after hit and wound up going multi-platinum. A clear fork in the road presented itself to the band when it came time for the follow-up: Continue being the best bar band in America or dig in and make an "artistic statement" that risks derailing their ascent like so many other bands before them? Well, apparently the Crowes said "Why not both?" and emerged with The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion, in which they dove even deeper into their roots to emerge with a singular take on gutbucket Americana. Still thick with the charm and audaciousness that defined the best moments on Money Maker, the 10 tracks of Southern Harmony are all-killer-no-filler, yet still remarkably dynamic in tone and tenor. Although the opening fusillade of "Sting Me," "Remedy," and "Thorn in My Pride" front-loads the album with its biggest hits, the album truly reveals its treasures when it moves past those straightforward rockers and ballads and gets murkier. Having enlisted a new guitarist (Marc Ford) and keyboardist Eddie Harsch, the band's sonic palette had grown and matured, so on cuts like "Black Moon Creeping" and "My Morning Song," the brothers Chris and Rich Robinson get to flex their weirdo urges and stretch out into proto-jam-band territory. And yes, there's a cover here, but instead of a barnstormer like Otis Redding's "Hard to Handle," it's a cathartic, soulful take on Bob Marley's "Time Will Tell." While Southern Harmony didn't sell quite as well as its predecessor, its chart hits and double-platinum status were none too shabby, and, when combined with the album's creative accomplishments, it positioned the band as a long-term artistic contender rather than a good-time supernova. This incredible anniversary edition excellently expands on that theme, delivering unreleased outtakes, live-in-studio performances, and a fierce live concert that show just how powerful and inspired the Crowes were during this era. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Six years after her last record to date, Lilies, Belgian singer Melanie De Biasio returns with Il Viaggio, a new, ambitious record whose simultaneously intimate, conceptual, and experimental scope has never before been so self-assured and empowered. Presenting itself as a sort of autofictional travel diary in which the singer and composer interrogates the very notion of identity by intimately exploring her father’s Italian origins, Il Viaggio can be understood as a series of sonic short films mixing post-jazz, alternative rock, ambient, concrete, and new music into a sort of dreamlike, imaginary journey from Italy to the USA.Conceived in close collaboration with producers Pascal Paulus and David Baron, Il Viaggio alternates between acousmatic, cinematic compositions pulsing with muted, heady grooves (“I’m Looking For,” “Chiesa”) and falsely-naive pop melodies switching from funereal to melancholic, and drifting off into dreamlike detours worthy of David Lynch (“Now Is Narrow,” “Mi Ricordo Di Te”). Whatever the context may be, Melanie De Biasio, with her sensual and ethereal voice, brings into being a weightless universe that is at once abstract, organic and on edge, diving into the most intimate depths of her history and psyche in order to bring to the surface snippets of universally accessible sonic imagery. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz      

Under a symbolic change in labels (Asylum for Island), Tom Waits is changing style! With this revolutionary masterpiece, the Californian moves away from his bluesy Randy Newman spirit, where Broadway is reignited by the originality of the violin and jazz piano pasodoble. We now see him incorporate a sense of European decadence,welcoming the cabaret spirit of the Brecht/Weill tandem into his music. UFO noises, atypical instruments, crazy vocal production; Swordfishtrombones is a carnival of sounds and atmospheres where the madness is never far (Captain Beefheart sometimes comes to mind). A grand barnum; Uncle Tom dons a costume he never will again. A ramshackle Mr Loyal, with a blues soul and an avant-garde pen, howling like a wolf. A Howlin' Wolf, of course... © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

It’s important to remember that before becoming a gold-standard pop star, Taylor Swift grew up on Nashville country music. Music City's folklore now seems a long way off for the thirty-year-old singer. However, Taylor Swift has never stopped dipping her pen into the same ink as her cowgirl elders, perfectly handling romance, heartbreak, introspection, sociopolitical commentary and personal experiences, such as when she sang of her mother’s cancer on Soon You’ll Get Better… It was in lockdown, with restricted means and limited casting, that she put together Folklore, released in the heart of summer 2020. The first surprise here is Aaron Dessner on production. By choosing The National’s guitarist, whom she considers one of her idols, Swift has opted for a musician with sure-footed tastes and boosted her credibility among indie music fans. She hammers this home on Exile with Justin ‘Bon Iver’ Vernon (the album’s only duet), a close friend of Dessner's with whom he formed Big Red Machine.This surprising, even unusual album for Swift is by no means a calculated attempt to flirt with the hipsters. And it really is unusual for her! No pop bangers, nor the usual dig aimed at Kanye West; the album is free of supercharged beats and has delicate instrumentation (piano, acoustic guitar, Mellotron, mandolin, slides…). Folklore toes a perfect line between silky neo-folk and dreamy rock. It’s as if the star had tucked herself away in a cabin in the forest to dream up new ideas, much like Bon Iver did in his early days… By laying her music bare and relieving it of its usual chart music elements, Taylor Swift has added more substance to her discography. This is clear on August, which would never have resonated as well if it had been produced by a Max Martin type… Upon announcing the album, Swift wrote online: “Before this year I probably would’ve overthought when to release this music at the ‘perfect’ time, but the times we’re living in keep reminding me that nothing is guaranteed. My gut is telling me that if you make something you love, you should just put it out into the world.” A wise decision for a beautiful and mature record. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Imagine Dragons give away the plot with the very title of Evolve, the 2017 sequel to 2015's sophomore set, Smoke + Mirrors. Not content to stay in one emotional or musical spot, Imagine Dragons consciously move forward on Evolve, pushing themselves into a positive place, a transition that mirrors lead singer Dan Reynolds working through a heavy depression. Some of that darkness seeped into Smoke + Mirrors, but it's not heard here. Opening with "I Don't Know Why," a glitzy dance-rock song that nods at a disco past but exists in an EDM present, the record often rides along to a neon pulse. It's not that Imagine Dragons have abandoned the heavy-footed stomp they patented on "Radioactive," but they've threaded in busy, percolating electronic beats and give plenty of space to gilded keyboards. When the tempo is quick, the results are festival-friendly electro-rockers. When the tempo is slow, the results feel like a hybrid of Coldplay and Mr. Mister -- power rock ballads spiked with laser drums. As throwback as that sensibility may be, the band strives to be thoroughly modern, emphasizing rhythms and gargantuan hooks to tightly constructed compositions. Whenever the group tries a new sound -- pumping up "Mouth of the River" with fuzz guitars or attempting a bit of rap-rock on "Start Over" -- it feels not like experimentation but like a quick scan through a new music playlist. And that means Evolve feels very much like the digital Zeitgeist of 2017.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Måneskin is on a roll. After winning Eurovision in 2021, the Italian band has reached new heights, releasing singles which have propelled them into stardom and opened thousands of doors. ‘Mammamia’, ‘The Loneliest’ and ‘Supermodel’ are three killer tracks, all built on a solid foundation of stadium rock and teenage romance. However, their third album, RUSH!, is much more pop-orientated in both form and content. The beautifully saturated guitars form the perfect backdrop for Damiano David’s vocals. The songs revolve around the lyrics and take on a more rebellious, romantic vibe—except for the track ‘Bla Bla Bla’, which is more of a provocative, drunken, joyful affair. Imagery and metaphor abound in ballads such as ‘Timezone’ and ‘If Not for You’. They also deliver huge heavy bass on ‘Baby Said’ and ‘Gasoline’ and invite Tom Morello to feature on the track ‘Gossip’. RUSH! is a solid album, and it might just hail a new stage for Måneskin’s career. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

The sound world meticulously crafted by Roger Eno on the luminous The Skies, they shift like chords… builds on the limpidity of the piano and strings heard on his 2022 album The Turning Year.  But here it has shifted into an ethereal sound universe, with added depth from lines for guitar, clarinet, bass clarinet, electronics and more.The opening track "Chordal Drift" starts off shy, slowly meandering between chords. This actual chordal drifting has chordal centres and tonalities unfurling and recoiling like blossoming flowers—truly a serene way to begin an atmospheric album. Another world in Eno's universe, "Tidescape," opens with Jon Goddard's sparse electric guitar over a steadfast flute organ drone. Bass clarinet, clarinet and other instruments weave in and out of the scene, like astral debris floating past.  The interplanetary voyage then encases you in reverberating solo piano on "That Which is Hidden."  Its unsuspecting atonality provides a fantastic contemplative moment on this astral adventure. In fact, introspective moments are scattered throughout the record; they allow the listener to breathe, to think, to sigh, to weep. Sometimes silence is just as impactful as music.It's easy to get lost listening to The Skies, they shift like chords…; Eno has a spectacular sense for creating a world that could be interpreted uniquely by each listener.  One really can't help but stop and ponder. Tracks like the aptly named "Above and Below (Crepuscular)" present a perfectly crafted soundscape that could easily soundtrack a memory from anyone's bank. You can find Eno's solo piano interwoven between more atmospheric moments reminiscent of his film score writing, like on "Where Does This Lead Us?" and "Japanese Rain Garden." The piano underpins the entire album to create moments of strength, beauty, clarity or serenity.  "There always has to be something strong or utterly beautiful, otherwise there's the danger that it becomes like lift music…," Eno has said.   And elevator music this is certainly not, unless you plan to hit the emergency stop button and meditate for the next 45-odd minutes. The Skies, they shift like chords… is an interdimensional journey to be savoured and contemplated. Roger Eno is a master of emotion who can capture a thousand moments in the span of a few minutes. Breathing life into the individual experience, he leaves the listener to find meaning and curiosities in every corner of his music. That is the signature of a master artist. © Jessica Porter-Langson/Qobuz

The Sibelius Symphony No. 4 in A minor, Op. 63, is a classically gloomy work, received coolly by its original audiences even though the composer was enormously popular. Sibelius wrote it while suffering from throat cancer that could easily have killed him; as it happened, surgery was successful, and he lived for another 46 years. It is generally taken to exemplify a peculiarly deep kind of Nordic gloom. Conductor Santtu-Matias Rouvali has gained quite a reputation for shaking up conventional interpretations, and interested listeners put this album on classical best-seller lists in early 2024. Here, he delivers more of the same, with a reading of the Fourth that is nervous and even a bit action-packed rather than gloomy. His performance is actually slightly slower than average, but it doesn't seem like it with all the little climaxes Rouvali inserts into the work. It is almost as if he is coming down on the side of the Sibelius contemporaries who argued for a hidden program in the symphony, something Sibelius himself denied. It is not a typical Sibelius Fourth, but it is intriguing, and the Gothenburg Symphony follows Rouvali effectively through unknown territory. In a work that does indeed have a program, The Wood Nymph, Op. 15, Rouvali offers a highly persuasive performance. He closes with a familiar work, the Valse triste, Op. 44, No. 1, but here again, he pushes the tempo; it is not an encore-type Valse triste. It is hard to know what to think of Rouvali's readings; perhaps he will set new standards, or perhaps they will be interpretational blips. Sample and decide.© James Manheim /TiVo

A serpent woman haunts Cecile McLorin Salvant's dreams on her boldly realized seventh album, 2023's Mélusine. Inspired by the European folktale most famously detailed by 14th century French writer Jean d'Arras, Mélusine tells the tale of a shapeshifting maiden, half-serpent/half-woman, whose righteous anger takes on ever-more dualistic meanings under Salvant's dynamic musical sway. Having been lavished with accolades, including several Grammy Awards for her clarion, swinging jazz and French chanson-infused albums, Salvant has increasingly leaned into the more stylistically experimental and personal aspects of her artistry. It was an approach she took to new levels with 2022's Ghost Song, performing her poetic originals alongside unexpected covers of songs by Kate Bush and Sting. Centered on the title track, which she composed during the Ghost Song sessions, Mélusine is a gorgeously realized production. Although there are some English lyrics here, the album features the most French Salvant has sung on record. Thankfully, she offers translations of each song with a sentence that also highlights how each track illuminates the story.The album also finds Salvant (who produced the album with Tom Korkidis) pulling together all of her disparate influences, from her moody cabaret jazz reading of Charles Trenet's "La Route Enchantee" to her playfully mischievous interpretation of the 14th century composition "Dites Moi Que Je Suis Belle," the latter of which is done in dancerly duet with djembe percussion master Weedie Braimah. Along with Braimah, she's joined throughout by several longtime associates including pianists Sullivan Fortner and Aaron Diehl, bassists Paul Sikivie and Luques Curtis, drummers Kyle Pool and Obed Calvaire, and saxophonist Godwin Louis. Shifting the line-up track to track, Salvant offers inspired forays into '70s sci-fi-inspired Canadian musical theater ("Petite Musique Terrienne" from Starmania), the dramatic French pop of Veronique Sanson ("Le Temps est Assassin"), and an Afro-Latin take on 12th century troubadour Almuc Castelnau's "Dame Iseut" that Salvant sings in both Occitan and Haitian Creole, languages that underline her own rich dual heritage. There's even a synthesizer-accented take on Michel Lambert's haunting 1660 air de coeur "D'un Feu Secret" that sounds like electronic composer Suzanne Ciani, Ella Fitzgerald, and the Modern Jazz Quartet giving a Baroque court performance. Her originals here are just as stylistically wide-ranging as she pulls together jazz and Haitian compas rhythms on "Doudou," accompanies herself on analog synth on "Wedo," and weaves a dreamy overlay of vocals and electric piano on "Aida." It almost goes without saying that Salvant's voice is utterly sublime on Mélusine, rich with an earthy jazz warmth on one song and shimmering with a brightly attenuated operatic resonance on another. There's also a feeling that for her, the story of a half-serpent half-woman is in keeping with her life as a Black woman raised in Miami by a Haitian father and French mother. Whether it's with the themes of romantic heartbreak and bodily autonomy, or the global boundary-pushing musicality at play on Mélusine, Salvant's work is transcendent.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Often cited as one of the best hip-hop albums of the '90s, Illmatic is the undisputed classic upon which Nas' reputation rests. It helped spearhead the artistic renaissance of New York hip-hop in the post-Chronic era, leading a return to street aesthetics. Yet even if Illmatic marks the beginning of a shift away from Native Tongues-inspired alternative rap, it's strongly rooted in that sensibility. For one, Nas employs some of the most sophisticated jazz-rap producers around: Q-Tip, Pete Rock, DJ Premier, and Large Professor, who underpin their intricate loops with appropriately tough beats. But more importantly, Nas takes his place as one of hip-hop's greatest street poets -- his rhymes are highly literate, his raps superbly fluid regardless of the size of his vocabulary. He's able to evoke the bleak reality of ghetto life without losing hope or forgetting the good times, which become all the more precious when any day could be your last. As a narrator, he doesn't get too caught up in the darker side of life -- he's simply describing what he sees in the world around him, and trying to live it up while he can. He's thoughtful but ambitious, announcing on "N.Y. State of Mind" that "I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death," and that he's "out for dead presidents to represent me" on "The World Is Yours." Elsewhere, he flexes his storytelling muscles on the classic cuts "Life's a Bitch" and "One Love," the latter a detailed report to a close friend in prison about how allegiances within their group have shifted. Hip-hop fans accustomed to 73-minute opuses sometimes complain about Illmatic's brevity, but even if it leaves you wanting more, it's also one of the few '90s rap albums with absolutely no wasted space. Illmatic reveals a great lyricist in top form meeting great production, and it remains a perennial favorite among serious hip-hop fans.© Steve Huey /TiVo

The "difficult second album" is one of the perennial rock & roll clichés, but few second albums ever were as difficult as Use Your Illusion. Not really conceived as a double album but impossible to separate as individual works, Use Your Illusion is a shining example of a suddenly successful band getting it all wrong and letting its ambitions run wild. Taking nearly three years to complete, the recording of the album was clearly difficult, and tensions between Slash, Izzy Stradlin, and Axl Rose are evident from the start. The two guitarists, particularly Stradlin, are trying to keep the group closer to its hard rock roots, but Rose has pretensions of being Queen and Elton John, which is particularly odd for a notoriously homophobic Midwestern boy. Conceivably, the two aspirations could have been divided between the two records, but instead they are just thrown into the blender -- it's just a coincidence that Use Your Illusion I is a harder-rocking record than II. Stradlin has a stronger presence on I, contributing three of the best songs -- "Dust n' Bones," "You Ain't the First," and "Double Talkin' Jive" -- which help keep the album in Stonesy Aerosmith territory. On the whole, the album is stronger than II, even though there's a fair amount of filler, including a dippy psychedelic collaboration with Alice Cooper and a song that takes its title from the Osmonds' biggest hit. But it also has two ambitious set pieces, "November Rain" and "Coma," which find Rose fulfilling his ambitions, as well as the ferocious, metallic "Perfect Crime" and the original version of the power ballad "Don't Cry." Still, it can be a chore to find the highlights on the record amid the overblown production and endless amounts of filler.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Use Your Illusion II is more serious and ambitious than I, but it's also considerably more pretentious. Featuring no less than four songs that run over six minutes, II is heavy on epics, whether it's the charging funk metal of "Locomotive," the antiwar "Civil War," or the multipart "Estranged." As if an attempt to balance the grandiose epics, the record is loaded with an extraordinary amount of filler. "14 Years" may have a lean, Stonesy rhythm, and Duff McKagan's Johnny Thunders homage, "So Fine," may be entertaining, but there's no forgiving the ridiculous "Get in the Ring," where Axl Rose threatens rock journalists by name because they gave him bad reviews; the misinterpretation of Dylan's "Knockin' on Heaven's Door"; another version of "Don't Cry"; and the bizarre closer, "My World," which probably captures Rose's instability as effectively as the tortured poetry of his epics. That said, there are numerous strengths to Use Your Illusion II; a couple of songs have a nervy energy, and for all their pretensions, the overblown epics are effective, though strangely enough, they reveal notorious homophobe Rose's aspirations of being a cross between Elton John and Freddie Mercury. But the pompous production and poor pacing make the album tiring for anyone who isn't a dedicated listener.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Faced with some unexpected free time due to a lockdown inspired by a global pandemic, Taylor Swift turned inward. The result of her introspection was folklore, an album whose hushed atmosphere belies the speed of its composition and recording. Once she started the project, Swift turned to her longtime colleague Jack Antonoff for some input, but she also contacted an unexpected new collaborator: Aaron Dessner, the driving force behind the acclaimed indie rock band the National. Dessner's presence is a signal that folklore represents a shift for Taylor Swift, moving her away from the glittering pop mainstream and into gloomier territory. All of this is true, if perhaps a bit overstated. The 16 songs on folklore are recognizably her work, bearing telltale melodic phrases and a reliance on finely honed narratives that turn on exquisitely rendered lyrical details. Still, the vibe of the album is notably different. Sweetness has ripened into bittersweet beauty, regret has mellowed into a wistful sigh, the melodies don't clamor for attention but seep their way into the subconscious. None of these are precisely new tricks for Swift but her writing from the explicit vantage of other characters, as on the epic story-song "the last great american dynasty," is. Combined, the moodier, contemplative tone and the emphasis on songs that can't be parsed as autobiography make folklore feel not like a momentary diversion inspired by isolation but rather the first chapter of Swift's mature second act.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

With their debut album, 2022's The Overload, Leeds outfit Yard Act fell squarely under the umbrella of post-Brexit post-punk while managing to stand out with an in-your-face, disgruntled delivery by vocalist James Smith, timely political subject matter, alternately playful and biting wit, and an infectiously nervy musical bearing. The album shot to number two in the U.K. and snagged a Mercury Prize nomination, so it would be reasonable to question how they would follow it up. It turns out that the group left their collective foot on the accelerator by returning with all the idiosyncratic attributes of their debut while majorly expanding their sound with a kitchen-sink approach to sampling and genre (cited inspirations span Fela Kuti, Ennio Morricone, 2000s dance-pop, and more), all aided by bringing Gorillaz's Remi Kabaka, Jr. on board to produce. The resulting Where's My Utopia? gets the groove going with the weird and warped "An Illusion," which, after a sampled "It’s now my great pleasure to introduce to you the greatest voice of the entire century," opens with a wearily spoke-sung, "It's a bank holiday/So all the hospitals are shut/Guess I'll have to saw off my own foot." After developing into something cinematic enhanced by strings and sunshine pop-styled backing vocals, that's followed by the funky, half-rapped "We Make Hits," a diatribe against landlords and income disparity that makes reference to the Grammatics, Nile Rodgers, and "post-punks latest poster boys," while calling the titular hitmakers "two broke millennial men" ("And we'd do it again"). The irreverence continues on the more autobiographical "Down by the Stream," which employs old-school hip-hop befitting millennial childhood remembrances. While the album is loaded with memorable rants, self-deprecating confessions, and party-hearty rhythms, it still provides a showstopper in the form of the seven-and-a-half-minute "Blackpool Illuminations," an engrossing, memoir-style narrative punctuated by sniffles and second-party questions and underscored by a gyrating groove, at least until Smith pulls the rug out from under us a minute from the end. Among other entries, the wiry "Petroleum" examines relationship self-sabotage, and singer/songwriter Katy J. Pearson makes an appearance on the driving "When the Laughter Stops," whose stanzas include learning that a much-anticipated audition is for the role of a corpse. Wry, riveting, chaotic, and infectious throughout, Where's My Utopia? easily upstages what was an impressive debut.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

Although for the last few years, saxophonist and clarinetist Chris Potter has often traveled off the beaten path in terms of orchestration (from the very electric, groovy stylings of 2019’s Circuits, to the experimentations in chamber music on Imaginary Cities in 2015), there’s no denying that it’s in the traditional format of an acoustic quartet with piano that the musician best demonstrates his improvisational talents. Discovered in the mid-90’s alongside legendary drummer Paul Motian, going on to partner with some of the greatest creators in contemporary jazz music (from Dave Holland to Pat Metheny and Steve Swallow), Potter, present on a phenomenal number of albums as a sideman and with over twenty records to date under his own name, comes out on top as one of the greatest saxophone players of his generation. Leading an exceptional ensemble of all-stars, Chris Potter reunites with pianist Brad Mehldau, previously featured on Moving In (1996), and collaborates seamlessly with drummer Brian Blade and bassist John Patitucci, both former partners in Wayne Shorter's quartet. Potter delivers the quintessence of his lyrical style with admirably controlled energy, resulting in an extraordinary, organic, and cohesive rhythm.With a repertoire of eight original compositions offering a wide array of textures and atmospheres which make space for a great deal of individual expression without ever neglecting the group’s collective message, the ensemble develops a kind of modern jazz that is both melodic and of great harmonic sophistication. The music combines constant emotional engagement with an admirable sense of restraint. Nothing is ostentatious or spectacular about this music, solidly anchored in tradition, of an extraordinary intelligence and sensibility, bringing to life in the most moving way a musical philosophy that is top-notch. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz