In 1928 Maurice Ravel described the violin and the piano as “essentially incompatible”. Yet by then he had already composed for those instruments two sonatas (one of which was published posthumously), Tzigane, and the Berceuse sur le nom de [Gabriel] Fauré – a miraculous output for a supposedly mismatched duo! Written for the most part in the early twentieth century, these works reflect Ravel’s interests and influences, including Spain, jazz, blues and foxtrot, Hebrew songs.... All of these pieces show Ravel’s modesty and poetry, and his marvellous ability to bring enchantment to our world. Here Elsa Grether and David Lively present Ravel’s complete works for violin and piano, including two world premiere recordings: Gustave Samazeuilh’s arrangement of the Adagio assai from the Piano Concerto, and a transcription by André Asselin of the mischievous Five o’Clock Foxtrot from L’Enfant et les sortilèges. © Aparté

Like its predecessor, this album is less an insight into the musical sensibilities of David McCallum than an array of superb David Axelrod arrangements, again encompassing the hits of the day ("Batman Theme," "Michelle," "Call Me," "Five O'Clock World," "The Shadow of Your Smile," etc.), the variety of which is fairly dazzling. There is also one track each credited to McCallum and Axelrod as composers, respectively, which aren't bad at all -- again because of Axelrod's arrangements. "Far Away Blue," with its vivid brass and reed parts and driving beat, and the flute-dominated "The Edge," which sounds like a brilliant piece of film music in search of a movie, are both well worth hearing, and hold up at least as well as any of the established pop pieces.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

As good mods, the Jam always had a healthy respect for R&B and soul -- even the first album featured the revved-up Northern soul of "Non-Stop Dancing." With The Gift, however, Paul Weller seems to have become completely absorbed in it, and more specifically, in Stax-style soul with more than a hint of psychedelia à la "Psychedelic Shack." An uneven album marked by overindulgences like the instrumental "Circus" and unnecessarily long songs, The Gift still has no shortage of terrific songs, like the simply sublime "Ghost," "Town Called Malice" (the hit), and the funk workout of "Precious." Weller can obviously do "soulful" -- his voice has never sounded better -- but unfortunately, The Gift, with its excesses and marginal tracks, doesn't show his talents in the proper light. Points for ambition, but ultimately, this is their least consistent effort since This Is the Modern World.© Chris Woodstra /TiVo

Aphrodite's Child's second LP was in some ways both a continuation of and departure from their debut album, End of the World. There were some grandiose keyboard-based sub-British psychedelic tracks that could have fit in well on the previous record. The title song's celestial organ, for instance, is much like that on heard on U.K. psychedelic records of the period such as Rupert's People's "Reflections of Charlie Brown," though it's more sentimentally romantic than virtually anything a British band would have released, especially in its vocal delivery. Yet on other cuts, the group took on a markedly different character, whether it was mildly rousing social consciousness ("Wake Up"), pretty fair stomping power pop-psych ("Let Me Love, Let Me Live"), and, least successfully, good-time country-rock ("Take Your Time") and gravelly vaudevillian soul ("Good Time So Fine"). "Funky Mary," on the other hand, is a really cool departure into almost experimental soul-rock, its phased vocals backed by an almost musique concrète wash of bashing drums, Latin-African-flavored bongos, and jazzy vibraphone. If it's guiltier pleasures you're looking for, the unreservedly heart-tuggingly sad "Marie Jolie" is their best (if most saccharine) pop ballad with Mediterranean gondola balladeer overtones complete with accordion solo, though it's End of the World's "Rain and Tears" that the group's most remembered for in that department. "Such a Funny Night," which follows right after that, steers the boat back to pop-psychedelia in the twee British mold. Like their first album, then, it's a very uneven record, but one whose best half or so is pretty enjoyable psych-turning-into-prog with Greek accents to both the vocals and melodies, even if it's never going to be classified as especially hip.© Richie Unterberger /TiVo

Gottlieb Wallisch continues his acclaimed survey of jazz-influenced piano literature. In this volume we explore le tumulte noir ("the Black craze") in the French-speaking countries after the First World War, taking us to Paris and Brussels where the mood was hot for dancing. The fashionable status of this new craze attracted writers, composers, intellectuals and artists from all over the world, with American jazz music as the latest rage in the cafes and bistros of the day. The influence of dances from overseas spread like wildfire, taking hold amongst French and Belgian composers eager to free themselves from Germanic Wagnerism while riding the wave of popularity of hit records and cinema. © Grand Piano Records

On the face of it, pianist Oscar Peterson (whose virtuosity always allowed him to play an infinite amount of notes) and Count Basie (who made inventive use of silence and space by emphasizing single rhythmic sounds) would seem to have had little in common. However they both swing, and there was a definite overlapping in their repertoire. Peterson's Basie tribute is a near-masterpiece. With guitarist Herb Ellis, bassist Ray Brown, and guest drummer Buddy Rich all playing quite sympathetically, Peterson's arrangements make the nine Basie-associated songs (along with Peterson's original "Blues for Basie") all sound quite fresh and lightly swinging. Quite a few of these renditions (particularly "Easy Does It," "9:20 Special," "Broadway," and "One O'Clock Jump") are instantly memorable.© Scott Yanow /TiVo

As good mods, the Jam always had a healthy respect for R&B and soul -- even the first album featured the revved-up Northern soul of "Non-Stop Dancing." With The Gift, however, Paul Weller seems to have become completely absorbed in it, and more specifically, in Stax-style soul with more than a hint of psychedelia à la "Psychedelic Shack." An uneven album marked by overindulgences like the instrumental "Circus" and unnecessarily long songs, The Gift still has no shortage of terrific songs, like the simply sublime "Ghost," "Town Called Malice" (the hit), and the funk workout of "Precious." Weller can obviously do "soulful" -- his voice has never sounded better -- but unfortunately, The Gift, with its excesses and marginal tracks, doesn't show his talents in the proper light. Points for ambition, but ultimately, this is their least consistent effort since This Is the Modern World.© Chris Woodstra /TiVo

Franco Battiato has stated that Fleurs 2 will be the last installment of his non-sequential cover album trilogy, after 1999's Fleurs and 2001's Fleurs 3. It might as well be so, since what started as an intimate tribute is beginning to lose its charm. Many in Italy were extremely critical of Fleurs 2, deeming it a trifle unworthy of an artist of Battiato's stature -- not to mention an opportunistic commercial venture, released just in time for the holiday season. True, the Fleurs series is worlds apart from Battiato's typically demanding (if not downright hermetic) music. Once again, Battiato chooses a list of his personal favorite Italian, French, and English pop songs -- some well known, some obscure -- and sets them to delicate chamber music arrangements. The results are eminently tasteful, and hardly innovative. Still, what seems to hurt this record more for Battiato fans is the law of diminishing returns: he has been there before, and done it better. On the other hand, those unfamiliar with his previous work may find Fleurs 2 a rather exquisitely assembled collection -- with a few flagrant duds, granted, but also with several deeply moving moments. For one thing, Fleurs 2 features five stellar duets with an A-list of international vocalists: Carmen Consoli, Antony, Anne Ducros, Sepideh Raissadat, and Juri Camisasca. English-speaking audiences may be naturally curious about hearing Antony harmonize with Battiato in an Italian version of the rare B-side "Frankenstein," here renamed "Del Suo Veloce Volo" with completely changed lyrics -- and still as haunting as every Antony and the Johnsons song inevitably is. Fleurs 2's true masterpiece, however, is the opening track, "Tutto l'Universo Obbedisce All'amore," sung with Carmen Consoli. Not coincidentally, this humbly majestic love song is the only new Battiato original. There is no question that Battiato is a better composer than performer. It is precisely because of this that some of his choices seem rather inappropriate, such as the challenging standards "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay" and "Bridge Over Troubled Water." Battiato's insistence on singing in English and French is particularly puzzling, when his diction can be almost embarrassing at times. When he sings in Italian, it is a completely different matter: he can be a genuinely affecting vocalist, as this album eloquently illustrates. In sum, an uneven collection that is as pleasant a listen as it is oddly unrepresentative of one of Italy's most cerebral songwriters.© Mariano Prunes /TiVo

This studio session from 1977 features Count Basie in a quintet with vibraphonist Milt Jackson and guitarist Joe Pass. The predictably excellent group performs spirited versions of some of Basie's "hits" (including "Jive at Five" and "One O'Clock Jump"), some blues and a few standards. It is always interesting to hear Basie in a hornless setting like this one where he gets opportunities to stretch out on the piano.© Scott Yanow /TiVo