Orpheus Descending follows quickly on the heels of Strictly a One-Eyed Jack, the 2022 album that found John Mellencamp returning after a five-year silence. There, he invited Bruce Springsteen into the studio for a few songs, a nod to their shared past as heartland rockers. Here, the guest isn't as big a star, but the connection may run deeper. Much of Orpheus Descending features a returning Lisa Germano, the violinist who played with the rocker from 1987's The Lonesome Jubilee through 1998's John Mellencamp, tending to an adventurous solo career all the while. Germano's presence accentuates how Mellencamp is returning to the earthy, rangy roots rock of Big Daddy, a sound that seemed slightly out of time in the 1980s and now feels somewhat traditional; Mellencamp's blend of sinewy rhythms and burnished acoustics is recognizably his, yet it draws upon a sound that's now part of a shared past. It's a sound that's aged well, and Mellencamp has aged within it. His voice has been weathered to a nub; he now sounds eternal, even primal. His leathery croak helps give this lean, direct music a gravelly anchor that Germano offsets with her lithe, graceful support. Listening to their interplay gives Orpheus Descending an unexpected emotional kick that helps the record transcend the occasional overly literal lyric from Mellencamp, such as the lead single "The Eyes of Portland."© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

With three albums in three years, Drake maintains a productivity on par with his status on the American music scene. He delivers an album with flow in line with the rap blockbusters of the early 2020s, which rely on the opulence of their tracks, almost like outward signs of wealth. Far from going into autopilot, Drake explores an incalculable number of sound paradigms, his finger on the pulse of the latest trends, venturing into the emo rants of Yeat, who he features on  “IDGAF,” and into loops of dark samples on the hard hitting single “First Person,” where J. Cole also spits fire. With a touch of playfulness and mischief, the Canadian turns himself into a grimey schoolboy, shooting at anything that moves to settle the score and establish his dominance, then gets in his feelings on the very boom bap “8am in Charlotte.” For All the Dogs is a wiry, complex album, a deep dive into the psyche and the innumerable artistic desires of its artist. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

Giovanni Battista Pergolesi's Stabat Mater for soprano, alto, and strings is among the standards of 18th century sacred music, and Vivaldi's alto cantata Nisi Dominus, RV 608, is hardly less known. There are plenty of recordings available for both, but this one from the small Baroque orchestra PRJCT Amsterdam, marking that group's debut on the PentaTone Classics label, is a real standout. The soloists, countertenor Maarten Engeltjes on the alto part and (in the Pergolesi) soprano Shira Patchornik, are excellent, with voices that match in a way, having a penetrating quality that brings out the details of their lines in duets. The real stars, though, are the ensemble players themselves performing without a conductor. Mozart's mentor, Padre Martini, criticized Pergolesi's Stabat Mater for being too operatic and indeed too similar to the music in Pergolesi's comic opera La serva padrona. However, that is exactly the key to the work, to its exuberance in the midst of tragedy. The players of PRJCT Amsterdam set a suspenseful mood in the opening measures of the famous opening duet, and if "Fac, ut ardeat" does sound like an operatic love duet, that may be an entirely accurate interpretation. Engeltjes alone does not flag in the Vivaldi; sample the gorgeous and entirely original "Cum dederit," one of Vivaldi's masterstrokes of simplicity, for a taste of his voice at its best. PentaTone's sound from the Schellingwouderkerk in Amsterdam is ideal, and it is no surprise that this release made classical best-seller lists in the spring of 2024.© James Manheim /TiVo

In this new interpretation of Vivaldi’s famous Stabat Mater, hedonism gives way to a pain and suffering that’s uncommon in compositions by this red-headed priest. Accompanied by the Capella Cracoviensis and meticulously directed by Jan Tomasz Adamus, the Polish countertenor Jakub Józef Orliński offers a fresh take on this music. This is mainly owed to his skilful ornamentation that enriches Vivaldi’s long, yet rather simple vocal lines. This score by Vivaldi was only discovered in 1939, and this highly expressive performance gives the piece a haunting tone and a profoundly melancholic dimension.Le Stabat Mater is Vivaldi’s oldest known vocal masterpiece, dating back to approximately 1711. At this time, the composer was in Brescia helping his father, a violinist. A short time after, he would assume his post in Ospedale della Pietà in Venice (a hospice and music conservatory for orphans). Vivaldi spent 40 years there as a violin teacher, principal composer and choirmaster. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Georg Philipp Telemann never wrote a Christmas oratorio, but that hasn't stopped performers from assembling them out of holiday-season cantatas. The one here by veteran choral conductor Hermann Max and his instrumental group Das Kleine Konzert isn't the first one. It is not even the first one on the CPO label. There is no basis for objecting to this kind of creative repertory expansion, for Bach's Christmas Oratorio, BWV 248, was put together in basically the same way. Telemann isn't Bach, though most listeners will find satisfying listening here for the holiday season or any other time, and this album, in fact, made classical best-seller lists in early 2024. Max and company program five Telemann cantatas, unfailingly tuneful and well-made in the composer's characteristic way. One striking thing is that there are two quite late works from the 1750s and 1760s; the others are from earlier in Telemann's career, yet the style remains consistent. In some genres, Telemann caught on to the emerging light styles coming from Italy, but in church cantatas, he seems to have played it straighter. Max is not known as an adherent of the one-voice-per-part philosophy, yet here, his choruses are taken by the four soloists from his fine Rheinische Kantorei choir; there is no chorus. This is less than ideal. From what we know of Telemann's late occasional works, they were big, festive affairs. However, the decision was likely the result of COVID-era restrictions (the album was recorded in December of 2020), and in the airy acoustic of Cologne's Trinitatiskirche, one doesn't miss the choir much. Moreover, the choruses are mostly not simply chorales but are more complex polyphonic pieces; one quotes the old In dulci jubilo hymn, a pure Telemann move. The interpretations generally have Max's characteristic warmth, and the soloists (in the solos) are idiomatic and direct. Telemann lovers will enjoy this release.© James Manheim /TiVo

After a bit of surprising and quite good genre exploration on his previous solo album, Honestly Nevermind, on 2023's For All the Dogs Drake slides back into his usual M.O. of slow-as-taffy pull beats, alternately aggressive and morose rapping, and topics that range from how great Drake is to how rich Drake is to how misunderstand Drake is, with the occasional bit of misogyny added in to put some rotten cherries on top. Instead of the possible future glimpsed on Honestly Nevermind where he wasn't a one-note trap miserablist with a bad attitude toward women, Dogs brings to mind Drake at his self-defeating worst. He indulges in corny Scarface samples, takes tired shots at Kanye and Pusha T, drops so many names and cultural references that it sounds like an episode of Family Guy as written by AI, and almost every line revolving around women falls flat. Either he berates them for being liars, celebrates them for being of age, or criticizes them for being educated, unsophisticated, or not up to his exacting standard. It's depressing, and it's an act that's completely played out. Any hopes that Drake might have matured with age or thanks to being a father -- his son drew the album cover and it's one of the best things about the record -- are dashed within a few songs. It's annoying that Drake can't get out of his own way lyrically because quite a few of the songs have interesting music. Tracks like "IDGAF" and "Away from Home" have warped samples, dubby techno synths, and dazed beats that could have made for good backing for something less toxic and over the top. Drake seems to be going out of his way to convince people once again that he's for real, that he's the GOAT, that he started from the bottom and he's so high now he can't even make it out through the smoke. It's exhausting and obvious, making it a chore to get to the end of the 26 songs. He does rope in his usual cadre of established stars (21 Savage, J Cole, Bad Bunny) and up-and-comers (Teezo Touchdown, Yeat) to help out. Most of them are just along for the ride, slotting into the gray grind of the record like interchangeable Lego pieces. SZA does bring some balance to "Slime You Out," though, and she and Sexyy Redd add some juice to the bass track "Rich Baby Daddy." Drake the vocalist guests on the R&B ballad "Bahamas Promises" and proves again that he knows his way around a baby-making jam. Too bad the lyrics are the usual steaming plate of self-serving self-pity. It is a respite from the trap overload, but the sheer weight of the familiar beats and similar moods, same old Drake lyrical stance, and unrelenting misogyny add up to an overall negative listening experience. It might not be the worst Drake album, but it's in the conversation for sure.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

Ben Harper is a musical preacher of sorts, never one to be shy in speaking his mind about social conformity. If his first two albums -- Welcome to the Cruel World and Fight for Your Mind -- didn't clue you in, Diamonds on the Inside will definitely do so. Diamonds on the Inside marks Harper's fifth studio effort and this time he's emotionally in touch with what makes his heart burst. This is a passionate album, no doubt. His signature Weissenborn guitar joins him once more and Harper's classic groovy funk is heavy; however, Harper adds worldbeat to his musical plank. From the Marley-esque vibe of "With My Own Two Hands" to the African soundscapes of Ladysmith Black Mambazo on "Picture of Jesus," Harper's purist presentation is smooth. "When It's Good" gives a little country blues twang, while "Touch From You Lust" is a sexy haze of writhing riffs. "Temporary Remedy" follows the funk Lenny Kravitz-style, and Harper's a bit campy. It's a noticeable change from his typically serious stature and a nice shift in personality, too. Diamonds on the Inside is another stunning effort from one of rock's underground heroes. Harper has consistently worked with what appeals to him musically for nearly a decade, ignoring what fits the mainstream. Diamonds on the Inside is Harper's sixth chapter of truth and just one listen to the electric blaze of "Everything" will convince you.© MacKenzie Wilson /TiVo

The Sacrament of Sin is the seventh studio album from German power-metal outfit Powerwolf and follows their 2015 release Blessed & Possessed. Recorded at the beginning of 2018 at the Fascination Street Studios in Örebrö, Sweden with producer Jens Bogren (Amon Amarth, Opeth), the album sees the group deliver a collection of bold, anthemic power metal in their trademark style.© Rich Wilson /TiVo

In the seventeenth century, the Ospedale della Pietà in Venice took in young orphan girls who received advanced musical instruction. The concerts given there attracted visitors from all over the world, curious to hear these divine voices which remained invisible, since the girls performed hidden behind the grilles of the chapel gallery. Vivaldi became Maestro de’ Concerti of the Pietà in 1714, and it was his pupils who performed his famous Nisi Dominus. Today they are succeeded by the mezzo-soprano Eva Zaïcik, who brings out the full poignancy of the aria Cum dederit. Another motet by Vivaldi, Invicti bellate, also composed for the Pietà, features in this programme planned and conducted by Vincent Dumestre. He invites us on a musical journey centred on the figure of woman and on divine praise, with composers awaiting discovery such as Serafino Razzi (1534-1619) and Soto de Langa (1531 1611). © Alpha Classics

Not long into the ceaseless promotional parade for Born This Way, Lady Gaga’s second full-length record and easily the most anticipated record of the 2010s, a certain sense of inevitability crept into play. It was inevitable that Born This Way would be an escalation of The Fame, it was inevitable that Gaga would go where others feared to tread, it was inevitable that it would be bigger than any other record thrown down in 2011, both in its scale and success. This drumbeat, pulsating as insistently as Eurodisco, is so persistent that there is an inevitable feeling of anticlimax upon hearing Born This Way for the first time and realizing that Lady Gaga has channeled her grand ambitions into her message, and not her music. Gaga has taken it upon herself to filter out whatever personal details remain in her songs so she can write anthems for her Little Monsters, that ragtag group of queers, misfits, outcasts, and rough kids who she calls her own. Gaga is hardly insincere -- this isn’t an act, she’s been instrumental as a gay rights activist -- but her conquistador stance ironically reduces Born This Way to a collection of songs about fashion, freaks, and religion, with the occasional respite arriving via German unicorns. Unfortunately, this doesn’t play quite as weird as it reads. Whatever performance art shock Gaga had on The Fame/The Fame Monster has turned into pure theater. Her drama club ambition to marry rock & roll rebellion with her disco beats turns Born This Way into Like a Prayer by way of Bat Out of Hell. Gaga has chosen not to dig under the skin. She’s quite content to state her themes then let them be, using them as the connecting thread on an ‘80s pastiche set to a relentless Eurotrash throb. Echoes of Whitney Houston, Pat Benatar, and Bruce Springsteen -- whose longtime running partner Clarence Clemons blows sax on two songs --- can be heard throughout, but it is naturally Madonna who is the cornerstone, giving Gaga the “Express Yourself” melody -- which is reworked on no less than three songs on the Deluxe Edition (and really, with an album this over the top, why skimp with the standard edition?) -- and a pop precedent for Catholic guilt. Lady Gaga doesn’t so much rip off Madonna as knowingly recontextualize the Material Girl for a post-modern collage, the sly similarities offering tangible reminders that Gaga is the heir to the diva throne. And Born This Way does solidify her standing as something of a pop visionary, although Gaga is a little bit too eager to embrace her role as messiah, letting her skills as a songwriter slide ever so slightly. Gaga’s true gift is her considerable dexterity at delivering the basics. Unlike so many of her peers, she does not cut and paste her tracks digitally, she constructs from the chords up, then accessorizes at will. She doesn’t abandon this sensibility on Born This Way, but she does take it for granted, never pushing her compositions or productions into unpredictable territory. She serves up the expected, which can be quite satisfying: “Marry the Night” glistens with a neon pulse, “Born This Way” has a giddiness to its self-importance, “Judas” turns “Alejandro” into towering gothic disco, she achieves her metal-disco fusion on “Bad Kids,” and she even shows vulnerability on “Yoü and I.” All well and good, and all very entertaining, but this is an album that’s meant to be more: it’s intended to be a soundtrack to a way of life, but it winds up playing as a collection of songs.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The name of František Tůma is known mostly to scholars of the middle 18th century, and possibly not even to all of those, but the Czech Ensemble Baroque and conductor Roman Válek have been trying to change that situation, with Válek pointing out that both Haydn and Mozart knew Tůma's music and were influenced by it in their early years, especially in the realm of sacred music. This release comes with a guest star, countertenor Andreas Scholl, and his large legion of fans will certainly take to it; he is in fine form, and he is to be commended for lending his presence to this fairly obscure project in the midst of the big crossover releases he can often command. However, the sections with the other soloists are hardly less strong. Sample the second-movement "Tecum principium" tenor-bass duet with Ondřej Holub and Jiří Miroslav Procházka in the Dixit Dominus. This work is from 1743, slightly earlier than most of the other works on the album, but it is the most progressive, with lots of light galant figures in the first movement. It may be the stylistic variety that turned off the keepers of the historical canon; sometimes, as in the Motettum de tempore of 1750, he writes big arias that wouldn't have been out of place in an earlier Baroque opera. For today's listeners, though, Tůma's music is an appealing immersion in the various stylistic currents churning through the music of the middle 18th century, and it is, without exception, well made. Válek's orchestra and his choral singers are equally strong in a recording that will appeal to any lover of the late Baroque and early Classical periods.© James Manheim /TiVo

For his first album as a soloist, the Polish countertenor Jakub Józef Orliński chose to explore some of the rarest repertoires, to the point that several of the pieces presented here are world premieres. As a result, we are introduced to composers who are almost unknown today: Gaetano Schiassi (1698-1754), Domènec Terradellas (1711-1751) and Nicola Fago (1677-1745), alongside other composers who are famous today such as Hasse, Zelenka or Durante. Helped by the bass-baritone Yannis François, Orliński covers a large amount of time, from the end of the 17th century to the last third of the 18th century, though solely in the spiritual domain, with Masses, Dixit Dominus or sacred oratorios. That said, the vocal and instrumental writing borrows from baroque, with its vocalisations, its embellishments and its brightness. On top of this, the ensemble il pomo d'oro performs the work with great confidence. © SM/Qobuz

After "Te Deum", "Arvo Pärt - Live" and "Miserere", "Stabat Mater" is already the fourth album to emerge from the close artistic collaboration between the composer and the Bavarian Radio Chorus, and to be recently released by BR-Klassik. - In addition to this impressive piece, this newly-released album offers some of the works that are key to the composer's stylistic development, and rarely appear in the concert repertoire or as recordings. Despite or perhaps precisely because of the radical reduction of its means of expression, Pärt's music demands the greatest care in its performance from those playing, and is masterfully realized in this recording by the Bavarian Radio Chorus and the Münchner Rundfunkorchester under the conductor Ivan Repušic. Like almost no other contemporary composer, the Estonian Arvo Pärt (born 1935) has succeeded in bringing sacred music back to the attention of a larger audience, even outside the church service. Because of its meditative character and its return to the simplest basic musical forms, his music gives us an insight into key spiritual moments. To this end, even before his emigration from the Soviet Union, Pärt invented what he referred to as the "tintinnabuli style" (Latin for “little bells”) of composing. In 1977 he delivered one of the first significant examples of this style with the first version of Fratres, which still has no fixed and prescribed instrumentation. In its ascetic austerity and almost liturgical solemnity, the work is reminiscent of a communal prayer or a spiritual act. © BR-Klassik