With her tragic early death (though hardly surprising given Amy Winehouse's lifestyle) a truly unique voice of contemporary soul stopped singing on July 23, 2011. She has a voice that should never be overshadowed either by her chaotic life covering the pages of British tabloids, or by her struggles with alcohol and drugs, or even the hundreds of videos of failed concerts on YouTube... When the Winehouse phenomenon exploded with this second album, the sublime Back To Black being far superior to her first record Frank, soul music was going through a slump with hollow, syrupy R&B singers and sanitized productions flooding the scene. Few people tried to develop the path established by Aretha Franklin, Ann Peebles, Nina Simone, Tina Turner, Dinah Washington and Marlena Shaw. But then along came Amy Winehouse, with her incredible timbre, her genuine songs (which she wrote herself, unlike 90% of her peers), her vintage-tinged productions (which were never passé) and brass-filled instrumentation. To top it all off, even her image was distinctive: 50’s beehive, biker tattoos and a cheeky attitude. Back To Black topped the charts for months all over the world, and it's still a real masterpiece of soul music and R&B. When critical opinion meets popular opinion – something relatively rare that’s worth underlining - the enjoyment is only tenfold. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Though it's officially his debut studio album, Agust D's D-Day is the third major release from Suga of BTS. As the rap alias of the K-pop superstar, Agust D delivers angst and aggression in droves, breaking from the polished image and ethos of his day job in favor of brutally honest introspection and personal emotions. Like most of the solo projects released in the wake of the planned BTS hiatus that started in 2022, D-Day is frustrated and hungry, focusing on themes of liberation and building inner strength in the face of outside pressure and challenges. Suga's talents as a rapper are on full display here, as he weaves from laid-back delivery on "SDL" to lightning-speed bars on the gnashing "Haegeum" and "HUH?!" with fellow BTS rapper j-hope. "AMYGDALA" and "Polar Night" turn inward, while that pensive, personal focus reaches a peak on album highlight "Snooze," a gorgeous, melancholy standout that features vocals from Woosung of the Rose and a piano sample from the late great Ryuichi Sakamoto. Sure to end on a hopeful note, Suga samples BTS' own song of the same name on the contemplative "Life Goes On." Though not as hardcore as D-2 or youthfully raucous as Agust D, D-Day is the most emotionally mature offering from Suga's alter ego to date, carrying him another step forward in his evolution.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Much has been made of the fact that Olivia Rodrigo—unlike Phoebe Bridgers,Beabadoobee and Sabrina Carpenter—wasn't asked to join Taylor Swift on her Eras tour after failing to give Swift songwriting credit on two tracks from Sour, Rodrigo's 2021 debut. (The non-collaborative credits, largely for influence, were added later and to much hullabaloo.) But Rodrigo shouldn't be opening for anyone. She's a towering pop star with an appealingly awkward edge, admired by Annie Clark and Kathleen Hanna, who has called Rodrigo "a revelation." She lives up to that potential on her second album, a bottle rocket messily shooting off excitement and confusion and barbs, some of which land right back in her own heart. As a tween, Rodrigo starred in an American Girl movie. At 20, she's singing "all-american bitch," a clever roller coaster that goes from dreamy folk—her voice soft like breath on a dandelion puff—to giddy pop-punk. "With perfect all-American lips/ And perfect all-American hips/ I know my place, I know my place and this is it ... I scream inside to deal with it," she howls with sarcasm and angst. "bad idea right?" is an irresistible made-for-radio song, with head-banger guitar and new wave bounce, about hooking up with an ex against all better judgment ("See you tonight/ It's a bad idea right? Whatever, it's fine"). "Vampire" deliciously melds traces of Swift (bite your tongue) and My Chemical Romance as Rodrigo aims for the rafters and commits to the to the metaphor: "You sunk your teeth into me/ Bloodsucker, famefucker/ Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire." "Lacy" is a surprising bit of gothic folk that taps into complicated feelings of friendship and jealousy, its sweet guitar darkly contrasting with a sinister vocal effect. "ballad of a homeschooled girl" bounces on spring-loaded bass and careening '90s indie-rock guitar as she lays bare self-perceived social awkwardness: "I'm on the outside of the greatest inside joke/ And I hate all my clothes/ Feels like my skin doesn't fit right over my bones … Everything I do is tragic/ Every guy I like is gay." Rodrigo and producer Daniel Nigro have a keen sense of dynamics, varying the pop-punk and piano ballads that made Sour a smash. "Making the Bed" makes the most of a big swoony bridge, "Logical" lashes out at a "master manipulator" and "Teenage Dream" finds Rodrigo already worried about outgrowing her youthful charms: "And when does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough?" It's fucked-up and scary and sad, and it builds to a scream-along that is pure catharsis. "get him back!" is anthemic and unafraid to look a little crazy: "Wanna kiss his face (And then I want to get him back)/ With an uppercut (Then I want to get him back)/ I wanna meet his mom (And then I want to get him back)/ Just to tell her her son sucks (Then I want to get him back)." A former Disney girl, Rodrigo is never going to be able to hide her theater-kid tendencies, but there's plenty of room for the drama here. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

This may be the "Beyoncé goes country" record—but, in truth, she's always been here. A Houston native and rodeo fan, she released countrified "Daddy Lessons" on 2016's Lemonade then upped the ante with a Chicks remix that was met with industry backlash. But no one puts Beyoncé in a corner, and Cowboy Carter is her gracious "told ya so" moment. First single "Texas Hold 'Em" saw her become the first Black woman to top Billboard's Hot Country chart, and it's a joy: echoing the Chicks' and Shania's C&W pop, but also Rhiannon Giddens' mountain folk (that's her playing banjo on the song) as well as all-American sweet soul music. The excellent Raphael Saadiq is a co-writer, and his touch shows. And damned if the affecting ballad "16 Carriages"—grand in the "Halo" tradition—doesn't sound like an autobiographical recounting of Beyoncé's career start as a teen. "At fifteen, the innocence was gone astray/ Had to take care of home at an early age/ I saw Mama cryin', I saw Daddy lyin'/ Had to sacrifice and leave my fears behind," she sings, chillingly, against crackling percussion and Robert Randolph's pedal steel. No wonder Dolly Parton blessed the cover of "Jolene," intro-ing that song with a comparison of her own titular character to the notorious Becky with the good hair. Beyoncé layers on the twang and tweaks the lyrics: "Jolene, I know I'm a queen, Jolene/ I'm still a Creole banjee bitch from Louisianne (don't try me)." Willie Nelson shows up as a radio DJ spinning samples from Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Son House. "Spaghettii" opens with a spoken intro from pioneer Linda Martell—the first Black woman to perform on the Grand Ole Opry, in 1969, but who also faced racism on the road and returned to South Carolina to be a bus driver. Over drill beats, Beyoncé shows off her rap skills in a stunning display ("Just a fishin' expedition, dumb admission/ In the kitchen, cookin' up them chickens/ Extra leg, but I ain't even tryna kick it/ Cunty, country, petty, petty, petty/ All the same to me, Plain Jane, spaghetti"), joined by Shaboozey. He also guests, as does Pharrell, on wild bull ride "Sweet Honey Buckiin,'" which starts with Bey crooning Patsy Cline's "I Fall to Pieces." The Cowboy Carter guest list is dizzying: rising star Willie Jones (gospel-inflected "Just for Fun"), Miley Cyrus (ride-or-die R&B ballad "II Most Wanted"), Gary Clark Jr. (sun-streaked yacht rocker "Bodyguard"). Post Malone joins the party for slow-burn flirt "Levii's Jeans," produced by The-Dream and Nile Rodgers. A goosebump-inducing cover of The Beatles' "Blackbird" showcases four of the most exciting young Black women in country music right now: Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, Tiera Kennedy and Reyna Roberts. There are sweet lullabies ("Protector"), giddy-up grind ("Tyrant") and Beyoncé singing a bit of the aria "Caro Mio Ben" ("Daughter"). And "Ya Ya" is an absolute  jaw-dropper—packed with Tina Turner energy and interpolations of Nancy Sinatra and the Beach Boys—that slides into a snippet of Chuck Berry's "Oh Louisiana" reworked as a psychedelic blues fever dream.  © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Songs in the Key of Life was Stevie Wonder's longest, most ambitious collection of songs, a two-LP (plus accompanying EP) set that -- just as the title promised -- touched on nearly every issue under the sun, and did it all with ambitious (even for him), wide-ranging arrangements and some of the best performances of Wonder's career. The opening "Love's in Need of Love Today" and "Have a Talk with God" are curiously subdued, but Stevie soon kicks into gear with "Village Ghetto Land," a fierce exposé of ghetto neglect set to a satirical Baroque synthesizer. Hot on its heels comes the torrid fusion jam "Contusion," a big, brassy hit tribute to the recently departed Duke Ellington in "Sir Duke," and (another hit, this one a Grammy winner as well) the bumping poem to his childhood, "I Wish." Though they didn't necessarily appear in order, Songs in the Key of Life contains nearly a full album on love and relationships, along with another full album on issues social and spiritual. Fans of the love album Talking Book can marvel that he sets the bar even higher here, with brilliant material like the tenderly cathartic and gloriously redemptive "Joy Inside My Tears," the two-part, smooth-and-rough "Ordinary Pain," the bitterly ironic "All Day Sucker," or another classic heartbreaker, "Summer Soft." Those inclined toward Stevie Wonder the social-issues artist had quite a few songs to focus on as well: "Black Man" was a Bicentennial school lesson on remembering the vastly different people who helped build America; "Pastime Paradise" examined the plight of those who live in the past and have little hope for the future; "Village Ghetto Land" brought listeners to a nightmare of urban wasteland; and "Saturn" found Stevie questioning his kinship with the rest of humanity and amusingly imagining paradise as a residency on a distant planet. If all this sounds overwhelming, it is; Stevie Wonder had talent to spare during the mid-'70s, and instead of letting the reserve trickle out during the rest of the decade, he let it all go with one massive burst. (His only subsequent record of the '70s was the similarly gargantuan but largely instrumental soundtrack Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants.)© John Bush /TiVo

Just prior to the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, Green Day released Father of All… -- an album co-produced by Butch Walker that found the punk-pop veterans ratcheting up the glam as they tightened their song structures. It's difficult to separate the album's short shelf-life from the culture's sudden lockdown but in any case, Father didn't open up a new horizon for Green Day, so they went back to what they know works: heavy, hooky power pop given crunch and weight by Rob Cavallo, the producer who helped beef up their sound 30 years prior on their major-label debut Dookie. Saviors follows the same rough blueprint as its forefather -- garagey rockers are countered by exuberant melodies and wistful ballads -- but the trio is smart enough to not attempt to mimic either the snottiness or their frenetic rhythms here. Green Day sound exactly like what they are: rock & roll lifers settling into middle age, irritated by some shifts in culture but still finding sustenance in the music they've loved for decades. They may rhapsodize about a "Corvette Summer" in a salute to the glory days of pre-MTV AOR but age hasn't made them crankily conservative or excessively nostalgic. Green Day send certain catchy rock styles from the past through a loud, muscular filter, an execution that tempers their lingering punk influences without seeming lumbering or slow. The ballast makes Saviors seem streamlined and steady, a shift in emphasis that is impossible to ignore on first listen; they seem as if they're retracting. After that initial impression fades, Saviors sounds cleaner, stronger, and purposeful, all due to the still-sharp pop instincts of Bille Joe Armstrong. Age may dampen Green Day's roar, but it has also heightened their songcraft, and that's reason enough to give Saviors time to let its hooks sink in.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The key to Chris Stapleton's immense success, of course, is his remarkable, inimitable vocal tone: a worn-leather rasp that can stretch high and low, project real strength and sweetness, and isn't specifically "country"—there are traces of Stax soul, Ray Charles' R&B and deep-fried Southern rock. But Stapleton also feels reliable; he's an artist of integrity and good taste who doesn't bother with false moves or trying on trends. In short, he is classic in real time. And that hasn't changed with Higher, his fifth solo album (after fronting the band Steeldrivers for years) in less than a decade. Co-produced once again with Dave Cobb, the album taps into the catholic formula that works well for him. Single "White Horse" is glorious arena rock, a sinewy flex with some particularly heavy moments. "South Dakota" brings Memphis-blues stomp, slithering confidently and managing to make that prairie state sound badass: "I'm in South Dakota/ Trouble ain't hard to find." Written with Miranda Lambert, "What Am I Gonna Do" is a mid-tempo pleaser with lazy-sun Skynyrd guitar and Stapleton, as always, beautifully complimented by harmonies from his wife Morgane Stapleton. She matches him as an equal duet partner and not just support on "It Takes a Woman," a '70s-ish country ballad that gives Stapleton the chance to hit an otherworldly note as he sings, "You make me hiiiiiiiigh and keep my feet on the ground." Sultry "Think I'm In Love With You" delivers a very '80s adult-contemporary vibe, complete with urbane strings—violin not fiddle. "Loving You On My Mind" is silky R&B, Stapleton sounding like a natural lover man as he sings, "Ever since there's a morning/ I've been wondering/ How you do that thing you did last night." He pushes toward falsetto on that one, but goes all the way on soulful ballad "Higher." Acoustic "Mountains Of My Mind" is gentle as a mountain stream and evokes memories of Guy Clark, while memorable "The Bottom" has a Willie Nelson feel, as Stapleton finds a way to deepen country's tangling of love—and heartbreak—and alcohol: "The heart holds a memory/ And the memory holds a past/ And the past holds a woman/ At the bottom of a glass/ So I don't have a problem/ If I don't see the bottom." And "Crosswind" is a metaphor-rich driving song ("carrying a heavy load," "picking up speed") that mimics the rhythm of rolling truck wheels for an excellent snapshot of outlaw country: "Trying to keep all the rubber on 65/ Might not make it out alive/ White-knuckling the wheel just to survive/ Caught in the crosswind." The parts are old, but Stapleton makes it feel brand new. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire, guitarist Bill Frisell, and drummer Herlin Riley keep things stripped to their essence on Owl Song. And like the title's avian creature, these topnotch musicians clearly have sensitive hearing. The result is attuned, attentively crafted music that wastes no notes as it conveys emotional heft.At times, Akinmusire's compositions have the directness of folk or pop shaped by refined improvisation. Akinmusire often sticks to simple lines and employs repetition to an unusual degree. Frisell wrings gorgeous tones from his instrument without the use of a lot of fancy effects. And Riley's excellent drumming could almost be described as modest. (He does, however, bust out on "Mr. Riley," an exciting duet with Akinmusire.) On "Owl Song 1," plaintive trumpet and guitar state the piece's extended melody over brushed snare and soft bass drum accents. The players' interaction is intimate, interconnected. Certain moments can catch the listener off guard: a tiny change in inflection or timbre can highlight an affecting shift. Frisell's cycling chord pattern and Riley's tambourine and hand drum are present throughout "Weighted Corners." Akinmusire intones lovely shapes, but more intriguingly, his performance is an example of his use of repetition. It's surprising to hear a trumpet repeat a figure again and again; it lends a pushing-the-envelope edge to the hushed setting.   "Henya," which has a psychedelic-like vibe, unfolds at an unrushed pace. Riley's free-time drumming, more active than elsewhere, shines. Clattering hits and effective cymbal splashes create a charged backdrop for long-held trumpet tones and searching guitar. During a key stretch late in the track, the chord progression comes to the fore, displaying the subtle emotional poignancy that marks this reflective album.  © Fred Cisterna/Qobuz

It all starts with an Acid-stretched (the 1990s software program) vocal loop of indeterminate origin before the rhythm reveals itself. And that exact combination heralds the return of the Chemical Brothers, with their first new full length in four years. It's a subdued, weird, and slyly eclectic release. Beautiful Feeling isn't situated in any way close to the chill out room, but one supposes it's more suited to the pace that middle-aged bodies can dance to than the all-out assaults the UK-based duo leveled us with in the 1990s.The shimmering, k-hole-dropping "Feels Like I Am Dreaming" and the dissonant track four "Goodbye" are the real treats here; "Goodbye" is its own revelation. The distorted organs collide atop each other and a lovely house vocal sample, with a slew of sci-fi arpeggios beneath it all but the Brothers are not avant-garde. They never let it get weird for too long, but they know how to push an envelope or two. The beat isn't composed of a thousand cats yawning in sync; that beat sounds like a maxed-out 808 and you want to go to carpentry school just to learn how to raise the roof for it (sorry).That bass line which propels "No Reason" is straight-up future funk like one might have heard in a Paris club in 1999. Except not; the production is too of-the-moment, its structure a bit too perfectly skittery. Likewise, "Fountains" pits almost Caribou/Manitoba-style leftfield elements (and some downright ELP-worthy keyboard wankery) with four-on-the-floor crunch and very light funk vocals."Skipping Like a Stone," with Beck, is a sweet reminder that the 53-year-old can really hit falsettos well when he wants to.  Just when you think there might not be enough block rockin' beats, songs like "Magic Wand" and "The Weight" drop heavy funk in recombinant glory. The Chemical Brothers were of course one of the first to bring underground sounds to worldwide arenas. And sure, part of that has to do with the kind of spectacle they worked to create—something that Daft Punk and deadmau5 would later adopt, finesse, and blow to the sky so high that it was dead before it hit the ground. The reason the Chemical Brothers still matter is that they're still so good, and we need them. Even when they're treading water and not exactly innovating, that water's the perfect temperature, filled with really good looking people, and with promise of one heck of a fun weekend. © Mike McGonigal/Qobuz

One of the biggest-selling jazz albums of all time, not to mention bossa nova's finest moment, Getz/Gilberto trumped Jazz Samba by bringing two of bossa nova's greatest innovators -- guitarist/singer João Gilberto and composer/pianist Antonio Carlos Jobim -- to New York to record with Stan Getz. The results were magic. Ever since Jazz Samba, the jazz marketplace had been flooded with bossa nova albums, and the overexposure was beginning to make the music seem like a fad. Getz/Gilberto made bossa nova a permanent part of the jazz landscape not just with its unassailable beauty, but with one of the biggest smash hit singles in jazz history -- "The Girl From Ipanema," a Jobim classic sung by João's wife, Astrud Gilberto, who had never performed outside of her own home prior to the recording session. Beyond that, most of the Jobim songs recorded here also became standards of the genre -- "Corcovado" (which featured another vocal by Astrud), "So Danço Samba," "O Grande Amor," a new version of "Desafinado." With such uniformly brilliant material, it's no wonder the album was such a success but, even apart from that, the musicians all play with an effortless grace that's arguably the fullest expression of bossa nova's dreamy romanticism ever brought to American listeners. Getz himself has never been more lyrical, and Gilberto and Jobim pull off the harmonic and rhythmic sophistication of the songs with a warm, relaxed charm. This music has nearly universal appeal; it's one of those rare jazz records about which the purist elite and the buying public are in total agreement. Beyond essential.© Steve Huey /TiVo

At 23 years of age, Stevie Wonder’s music is in its innovative stages in Innervisions, released on August 3, 1973. Playing all kinds of instruments, featuring musicians such as Jeff Beck, Ray Parker Jr., David Sanborn and Buzz Feiten, and touching on a range of themes from drugs, ghetto, spirituality, politics, racism and of course love with a big L, Michigan’s musical genius manages to create the ultimate fusion of soul, rhythm’n’blues, funk and pop. The sound of his synthesisers was unprecedented at the time and works well with this spiritual soul music that is full of crazy melodies. Innervisions provides the perfect soundtrack for difficult times in America, like in Living for The City where Stevie recalls the trials and tribulations of a young black man from Mississippi who went to New York for a job he would never get, before ending up behind bars (to make his 7-minute composition even more realistic, he incorporates street recordings, siren sounds and arrest-dialogues). With He’s Misstra Know-It-All, Stevie takes a thinly-veiled dig against the incumbent president, Richard Nixon. This album is the perfect addition to Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On released two years earlier as we leave the blues behind and embrace the broken American dream instead. It’s also very personal for Stevie Wonder, who has the original Innervisions cover engraved in braille, “This is my music. It’s all I have to say to you and all that I feel. Know that your love helps mine to stay strong”. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

It goes without saying that this second album was hotly anticipated. Having shot to international superstardom with When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? and having already taken five Grammy Awards, Billie Eilish has flipped the script without changing the fundamentals. Her tortured dark pop has evolved with the ironically-titled Happier Than Ever. "Almost none of the songs on this album are joyful", she points out. Take the cover, where she poses as Our Lady of Sorrows, this gifted but tearful icon chooses to clothe yesterday's sorrows in soft and voluptuous pop sounds. Where the last album was all about nightmarish fiction, this more intimate work takes a realist turn. Very eclectic musically, sometimes vintage, sometimes futuristic, its sixteen tracks rack up one surprise after another: Billie is never where you expect her to be.The sequences are carefully worked-out. Eilish oscillates between slow tempos (Getting Older, Billie bossa nova) and haunting EDM beats on Oxytocin – the hormone of love – or minimalist sounds (as on OverHeated), making for an amazing mix of genres. Thus, among Grimes-like syncopated choruses (GOLDWING), autotuned R'N'B (NDA) in the style of 070 Shake, folk ballads (Halley's Comet) and spartan soundscapes (Not My Responsibility), she manages to slip in the guitar-vocals number "Your Power", an emotional peak on which she speaks about suffering abuse. Accompanied by her brother, Finneas O'Connell, an enjoying a slick production job, Billie Eilish has created a masterful record which she hoped would prove timeless. That ambition is easy to understand when she mentions Frank Sinatra, Antonio Carlos Jobim and Julie London as influences. "It was the most enriching and deepest experience I have ever had with my music," she says. Fortunately, at just 19, there are likely to be many more. © Charlotte Saintoin / Qobuz

If you care about Joni Mitchell at all, this record is such a big deal. Recorded at the Newport Folk Festival in 2022, it captures the surprise performance—and first full set in 20 years—by the towering singer-songwriter. It's a study in humanity, love, fandom and the passage of time. Ringmaster Brandi Carlile opens the concert by describing what a real Joni Jam is like—the storied hootenannies at Mitchell's Laurel Canyon home, where musicians sing to honor, entertain and impress her. (Those onstage include Dawes' Taylor Goldsmith, Marcus Mumford, Shooter Jennings, Allison Russell, Wynonna Judd and more.) "Grab any old Martin guitar and tune it up ... the pets are here ... watch out for the orchids, they're everywhere," Carlile paints the scene.  "How are we going to have a Joni Jam without our queen? We're not!" And the crowd roars as Mitchell returns to the Newport stage for the first time since 1969. Then the iconic jangle of "Big Yellow Taxi" kicks in, performed as a group singalong with Mitchell's late-life velvet voice standing out here and there. The harmonies melt, with Lucius's Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig steering the ship, but it's Mitchell who gets the last word in, growling "put up a parking lot" and gleefully laughing as the song fades. It's a bit of a shock, even after she switched to a contralto in the mid-'70s, to not hear the mezzo-soprano that made the song famous, but incredibly moving, too. Mitchell suffered an aneurysm in 2015 that meant she had to learn to walk and sing and play guitar again. Which makes her spry, cool guitar on an instrumental version of "Just Like This Train'' all the more remarkable. And Mitchell's voice only gets stronger as the set goes on. Carlile and her wild-honey croon take the lead on "A Case of You," but Mitchell picks it up at the chorus to chill-inducing effect and keeps going, with Carlile and Mumford twisting around her like gentle but supportive vines. Carlile sounds fabulous taking the high notes on a groovy "Carey," and Mitchell is like silver when she hollers: "Oh, you're a mean old daddy, but you're out of sight!" She tells a fun story about driving a Mercedes across the country and how Hejira was written on the way. "I didn't have a driver's license so I had to tailgate on truckers, you know, they always signal when there's cops ahead," Mitchell cackles. Goldsmith then takes the lead on "Amelia," with Mitchell slightly behind him like an austere shadow; the same happens as he leads the gang through "Come in from the Cold"—and when Mitchell implores the title, she sounds more heartfelt than ever. "Both Sides Now" is so mortal and beautiful; when, at 79, Mitchell sings that final chorus—written when she was 23—it's almost unbearable: "I've looked at life from both sides now/ From win and lose and still somehow/ It's life's illusions I recall/ I really don't know life at all." But closer "The Circle Game" (written for Neil Young after he lamented leaving his teens and turning 20) is joyous. "We're captive on the carousel of time," Mitchell sings, so happy to be here. It ends with her laughing heartily. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Pianist Vijay Iyer, bassist Linda May Han Oh, and drummer Tyshawn Sorey recorded their debut, Uneasy, shortly before the pandemic hit the United States, receiving critical acclaim upon its release in 2021. Compassion, the acoustic trio's follow-up, finds the three musicians in top form again. Iyer wrote all of the material except for Stevie Wonder's "Overjoyed," Roscoe Mitchell's "Nonaah," and one other track. Sorey is a lauded composer, and Oh's releases as a leader feature her fine compositions, but the pair's extraordinary improvisatory and interpretive skills are what's on display here. The title of "Arch" refers to Archbishop Desmond Tutu, the well-known South African anti-apartheid activist. The cut is an example of how inventive this rhythm section can be: Oh's playing is strikingly expressive throughout the range of her instrument, and Sorey's drumming is marked by accents that enliven the music's flow. Iyer can be quietly impressionistic or let loose dense, forceful passages that bear traces of McCoy Tyner. "It Goes" was originally composed to accompany an Eve L. Ewing poem that imagines a warm encounter with Emmett Till had he lived into adulthood rather than being lynched at 14. This wordless version works nicely as a solo piano piece, one with a gentle bounce evocative of Erik Satie.  Compassion closes strongly with its most electric track,  "Free Spirits/Drummer's Song." Penned by the late saxophonist John Stubblefield, it is a catchy, hard-driving slice of post-bop that clearly energized the group. Later, "Drummer's Song," by the late pianist Geri Allen, emerges. The band really blasts off as they dig into Allen's irresistible hook: Sorey's drumming brims with ever-shifting details and a thrilling sense of propulsion, and Iyer's tension-and-release moves are gripping.   © Fred Cisterna/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

If Arctic Monkeys launched a tentative retreat on Suck It & See, their first effort after being seduced by Josh Homme, the group once again forge ahead into bold new territory on AM, their fifth album. Neatly splitting the difference between the band's two personalities -- the devotees of barbed British pop and disciples of curdled heavy rock -- AM consolidates Arctic Monkeys strengths, a tricky task in and of itself, but the band pushes further, incorporating unapologetic glam stomps, fuzzy guitars, and a decidedly strong rhythmic undercurrent. At times, AM pulses to a distinctly danceable rhythm -- "Fireplace" percolates while "Why Do You Only Call Me When You're High" simmers and "Knee Socks" nearly rivals Franz Ferdinand in disco rock -- but this isn't an album made for nights out; it's a soundtrack for nights in. Too much of Alex Turner's mind is preoccupied with love gone wrong, jealousy, and general misanthropy, so even when he's singing about a "No. 1 Party Anthem," he's doing so with a nearly visible sneer. Such an undercurrent of cynicism makes AM an ideal album to listen to under the cover of darkness, but due to the Arctic Monkeys' muscular wallop and musical restlessness, it never feels like the band is wallowing in bleakness. Instead, this is vibrant, moody music that showcases a band growing ever stronger with each risk and dare they take.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo