The Bee Gees' third album is something of a departure, with more of a rocking sound and with the orchestra (apart from a few well-placed harp arpeggios) somewhat less prominent in the sound mix than on their first two LPs. The two hits, "I've Gotta Get a Message to You" and "I Started a Joke," are very much of a piece with their earlier work, but on "Kitty Can," "Indian Gin and Whisky Dry," and "Such a Shame" (the latter written by the group's then lead guitarist, Vince Melouney), among other cuts, they sound much more like a working band with a cohesive group sound, rather than a harmony vocal group with accompaniment. Their writing still has a tendency toward the dramatic and the melodramatic, which would manifest itself prominently again on their next album, Odessa, six months later, but here the group seemed to be trying for a somewhat less moody, dark-toned overall sound, and some less surreal lyrical conceits, though "Kilburn Towers" (despite some pop-jazz inflections) and "Swan Song," as well as "I Started a Joke," retain elements of fantasy and profundity. [In 2006, as part of the shift of the group's back catalog to Reprise Records, Idea was reissued in remastered form, with seriously improved sound and expanded to two CDs with a brace of chronologically-related outtakes -- comprising some of the most fascinating material of their history -- initially as part of the collection The Studio Albums 1967-1968.]© Bruce Eder /TiVo

Since 2019, Taylor Swift has been leading her fans and her music into a space-time rift worthy of a science-fiction block-buster: when she releases a new album, there's a 50/50 chance that it's an old one. What is the meaning of this devilry? Well, it’s mainly due to complicated and conflicting contracts, copyrights and (very) large sums of money, that have  all led Taylor Swift to decide to re-record and re-release her first six albums with some bonus, previously unreleased period tracks. The latest replicant is the album Speak Now, originally released in 2010. This third album of Taylor Swift’s was a major milestone in her discography: aged just twenty, she wrote all the songs for the first time, whilst moving away from the country aesthetic that had made her famous. It was a very personal album, with a lot of diary-style love stories from the point of view of a young woman barely out of her teens. Thirteen years on, it’s clear why Taylor Swift would sing these songs again (to get her hands back on the revenue generated by her old albums). But how? With a fuller voice, and by tidying up some of the lyrics that might be found off-putting today. Hardcore fans and commentators may cry revisionism, but the rest of us will certainly be delighted to find this early album almost unchanged © Stéphane Deschamps

Among the major tenor saxophonists of the last 75 years, Charles Lloyd has always stood apart. Most of his peers were based in New York but Lloyd, a Memphis native, often worked out of the West Coast.  He frequently collaborated with rock musicians in the 1960s and 1970s, including the Beach Boys, the Doors, Roger McGuinn, and others; at the time, it was uncommon for an important jazz figure to have such close ties to the rock scene.  Those associations reveal an artist open to new sounds as he follows his own path.Decades later, the octogenarian continues to be a singular force, and on the excellent 2024 release, The Sky Will Still Be There Tomorrow, he leads a stellar new band: pianist Jason Moran, bassist Larry Grenadier, and drummer Brian Blade. Lloyd revisits older material with fresh ears, and the double album also includes six new compositions along with versions of the spiritual, "Balm in Gilead," and J. Rosamond Johnson and James Weldon Johnson's hymn, "Lift Every Voice and Sing."On the opener, "Defiant, Tender Warrior," which features an arrangement by Lloyd and Moran, Blade deftly deploys rumble, clatter, and hiss to create a foundation and an enveloping atmosphere. Lloyd's fluttering high notes, just-so breathiness, and speedy note-flurries sensitively play off Moran's take on the piece's tender melody.  Lloyd's sole alto sax performance occurs on the title cut, one of the album's new pieces. At first, the track sounds like a loosened-up version of bebop, but soon Moran's dissonant piano changes the vibe. A groove that recalls Keith Jarrett (a former Lloyd sideman), emerges, and a spare, bluesy section follows. Wherever the music goes, the engaged quartet brings it to full flower. On "Beyond Darkness," Lloyd displays a warm, nicely shaded tone on alto flute. Blade's rolls and cymbal hits, Grenadier's groove, and Moran's impressionistic lines create a gentle pelagic ambience for Lloyd's lyrical explorations. Beyond darkness, indeed, this is wonderfully blissed-out music."Defiant, Reprise; Homeward Dove" looks back to the opener. The two tracks perfectly bracket an album that gracefully takes the listener on a journey with Lloyd and his sensitively attuned band. As the last notes sound, there is a sense of a cycle completed.  © Fred Cisterna/Qobuz

Arriving swiftly on the heels of Moving on Skiffle, Accentuate the Positive is certainly a kissing cousin to its 2023 companion: it's another spirited revival of a style that a young Van Morrison held dear. Despite being titled after the Johnny Mercer & Harold Arlen standard, Accentuate the Positive isn't an ode to the Great American Songbook. It's nominally a celebration of the early days of rock & roll, an era that did see various styles, attitudes, and demographics mingle, so Morrison's decision to punctuate classics by Chuck Berry, the Everly Brothers, Little Richard, and Chuck Willis with pop tunes, country hits, and jump blues isn't far afield: all this music was part of the early explosion of rock & roll. Besides, Van Morrison has never been a rockabilly cat, he's a blues shouter and he plays precisely to those strengths here, leading his band through lively and loving readings of rock & roll oldies, never apologizing for the unabashed nostalgia of the entire enterprise.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Over the past 24 years, Tracey Thorn has released four solo albums and published four books. Ben Watt founded a label, Buzzin' Fly, and made his own solo records. But it's been nearly a quarter century since the married duo produced a record together as Everything but the Girl. Fuse is worth the wait. During that time, and before, the band's influence has remained strong—there's no shortage of singers cooing beautiful misery over drum-and-bass beats. But, as Romy Madley Croft of The xx has said of Thorn: "One of my goals always is to say a lot while saying very little … and I definitely think that Tracey does that." On lush "Nothing Left To Lose," Thorn sounds as smoky and soulful as ever against Watt's sonic reverberations, even as she gives in to submissive desperation. "I'm here at your door/ And I've been here before/ Tell me what to do/ Cause nothing works without you/ I know the hour is late/ And I know you'll make me wait." At one point, the glitch beat drops down, then out, and you hear Thorn take a breath in—and it's as intimately meaningful as any words. She sounds comfortable wearing Dusty Springfield's mantle on stark and spare, deep and dark "Run A Red Light" and "When You Mess Up." The latter doesn't have a traditional ending; instead, it's just Thorn singing "Christ, we all mess up" as the music lingers, unsure if she'll return, then fades—content not to put a bow on it. Watt puts a sort-of AI effect on Thorn's voice for that song and adds an electronic tremor to it for "Caution To The Wind." "We have to fuck up my voice," Thorn has said of the record. "We were desperate to fuck up my voice. It's one of the key signatures of the band, so it was the most fun thing," Thorn has said of the experiment. The duo said they wrote the lyrics for shimmering "Lost" by typing "I lost..." into Google for auto-fill results. "I lost my place/ I lost my bags … I lost my perfect job/ I lost the plot," Thorn sings, before delivering the gut punch: "I lost my faith and my best friend/ I lost my mother." She gets lyrically playful on dreamy "No One Knows We're Dancing" ("First up, this is Fabio/ He drives here from Torino/ Parking tickets litter/ His Fiat Cinquecento") and sunny "Karaoke" (A guy then goofed through Elvis/ Why not, I thought, why not?/ If you want it you can own it/ Just aim, then take a shot"), one setting the scene at a dance club and the other at a karaoke bar. "After so much time apart professionally, there was both a friction and a natural spark in the studio when we began," Thorn has said of musically reuniting with her husband. "And it ended in a kind of coalescence, an emotional fusion. It felt very real and alive." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Since coming out with his debut album Natural Energy under the label ACT in 2019 at just 19 years old, young saxophonist and ringleader Jakob Manz’s career has taken off considerably, his acclaim extending beyond German borders. After doing a stylistic 180 with the other rising star of German jazz, pianist Johanna Summer, on the much more classical and restrained album The Gallery Concerts 1, followed by his recording as leader of a sort of international all-star band (Tim Lefebvre, Paolo Fresu, Nguyên Lê) of a positively groovy album-manifesto whose title couldn’t be more explicit (Groove Connection), the saxophonist is back with the vibrant and inspired The Answer, at the head of the Jakob Manz Project, the group closest to his heart.Still composed of Hannes Stollsteimer on piano and keyboard, Frieder Klein on bass, and Paul Albrecht on drums, the group is now elevated by percussionist Karl Degenhardt. While staying fundamentally loyal to a neo-fusion esthetic direction, influenced by the biggest names in the genre (David Sanborn, Marcus Miller, The Brecker Brothers), they welcome a series of guests across the album that open it up to new horizons, oriented towards both pop and world music. In particular, “Voyage Surréel'' comes to mind, on which Beninese guitarist and singer Lionel Loueke swiftly takes the ensemble on a journey into the polyrhythms of a dreamlike and powerfully poetic Africa, or “Keep On Burning,” where, under the influence of trumpet player Matthias Schriefl, the group pays homage to 70s soul jazz. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

In many ways, Sinatra at the Sands is the definitive portrait of Frank Sinatra in the '60s. Recorded in April of 1966, At the Sands is the first commercially released live Frank Sinatra album, recorded at a relaxed Las Vegas club show. For these dates at the Sands, Sinatra worked with Count Basie and his orchestra, which was conducted by Quincy Jones. Throughout the show, Sinatra is in fine voice, turning in a particularly affecting version of "Angel Eyes." He is also in fine humor, constantly joking with the audience and the band, as well as delivering an entertaining, if rambling, monologue halfway through the album. Basie and the orchestra are swinging and dynamic, inspiring a textured, dramatic, and thoroughly enjoyable performance from Sinatra. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

While in appearance, it seems like a sequel to Liberation -- a similar cover shot down to the typeface that is on the front, in this case showing Hannon in front of the IM Pei-designed entrance to the Louvre, while the back shows a similarly Rococo piece of decoration -- Promenade is in fact even more extremely and defiantly non-rock than its predecessor. With a larger number of string performers to accompany him, not to mention someone on oboe, sax, and cor anglais (English horn), Hannon retains only drummer/co-producer Darren Allison from the previous record to make what remains his most self-conscious art release to date. The opening "Bath" sets the course, with seacoast sounds and a brief spoken word bit that turns into a minimalist Michael Nyman homage before slamming into the song proper, where the guitars and bass take a back seat to the choir, strings, and woodwinds, all the while driven along by Allison's solid percussion. From there all kinds of twists and turns emerge in an alternate universe where classical instrumentation offers as much pop as a guitar strum. The extreme archness of "Going Downhill Fast" is also a pub singalong, while "Don't Look Down" builds to a dramatic, striking ending. Hannon's wickedly sharp wit informs almost everything; "The Booklovers" is the clear winner on that count, as Hannon tremulously recites a number of authors' names (with an appropriate accompanying sample or aside, often quite hilarious) over a stately arrangement. "A Seafood Song" and "A Drinking Song" celebrate exactly what they say they do, the latter offering up the great line "All my lovers will be pink and elephantine!" At the same time, the tender side of Hannon, which has sometimes been ignored, surfaces more than once, with "The Summerhouse," a nostalgic, wonderfully gentle piece on a lost season of love. This turns out to be one of Hannon's best songs ever. © Ned Raggett /TiVo

Over six previous albums, Kentucky's Black Stone Cherry continued to prove that their hoary hybrid of Southern rock, grunge, post-metal, and hard rock remains vital. The Human Condition underscores their deserved reputation as the brotherhood of Southern swamp metal, but there is immense growth in their creative process. Previously, BSC's recording process always involved cutting basic tracks while playing live on the studio floor. Working in bassist Jon Lawhon's Monocle Studios, the band did a 180: For the first time ever, they meticulously multi-tracked every note and sound. The sonic detail is indeed expansive, but the group sacrificed none of their power or swagger. They also felt a sense of urgency; while recording, the COVID-19 pandemic was spreading exponentially, and they undertook marathon sessions to complete the record. They finished days before the world shut down. The result is a startlingly fresh-sounding BSC album.Opener "Ringin' in My Head" offers muted feedback and dissonance before a bone-crunching guitar riff introduces the melody. Though written years ago, its lyrics are oddly prescient: "People people, your attention please/I need to tell all y'all about a new disease/it's crept right up from beneath our nose...I got a ringin' in my head/My bones are shakin'...I can feel it in my chest...The whole world's been shaken." The jam welds shattering grunge to metal as vocalist Chris Robertson sounds the alarm. "Push Down & Turn" offers scorching swamp metal. Robertson wails about his struggles with bipolar disorder and the band protects him with a maelstrom of overdriven riffs, chugging bass, and John Fred Young's thundering kick drums. "When Angels Learn to Fly" and "In Love with the Pain" are both exercises in the kind of anthemic AOR stadium rock balladry employed by bands such as 38 Special and the Outlaws. The muscular, dynamic production frames infectious, melodic hooks, vulnerable lyrics, and chiming group choruses. The metallic psych in "The Chain" channels Soundgarden in the best possible way. "If My Heart Had Wings" melds Dobro, electric guitars, piano, synth strings, and majestic processional drumming as Robertson heartbreakingly confesses his shortcomings in a relationship strained to the breaking point. BSC's customary inclusion of a classic cover remains in a noisy, slamming, irresistible read of ELO's "Don't Bring Me Down," offered with impeccable backing vocals and the filthiest bass line Lawhon has yet recorded. On "Devil in Your Eyes," Ben Wells channels Sonny Landreth's slide guitar sound before raging into dark, swirling Pearl Jam-esque hard rock. "Keep On Keepin' On" had to close the set. Despite its fist-pumping riff and hard rock vamp, the lyrical melody and group refrain return us to the tragic uncertainty of the present: "When everything that's good is gone, got to keep on keepin' on." The Human Condition's polished production might startle, but it's key to the band's most adventurous, mature, and finely wrought album to date, hands down.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

The Odes and Welcome Songs cover the major creative period of Henry Purcell, who composed them for festive occasions. However, in contrast to the musical pomp of Versailles that was commonplace during this time, the special events in which these songs were played were attended by very few. Damien Guillon and his ensemble, Le Banquet Céleste, have explored this chamber music’s intimate beginnings, conceiving this new programme comprising of thirty-seven richly expressive pages.Composed between 1680 and 1695, these pieces were intended to celebrate important occasions; for example, St Cecilia's Day or anniversaries such as that of King James II or Queen Mary. Others celebrate specific events, such as royal weddings, princely anniversaries or the centenary of Trinity College Dublin. Damien Guillon utilises his deep understanding of music to elevate his vocal and instrumental soloists to new artistic heights. "I like the idea of making music together in a group and uniting artists around a project," he says. Produced at the Poitiers Theatre, this new recording is full of life and joy, and is a true reflection of Guillon’s devotion to his craft. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Everything Vince Staples releases seems to be a success, and his fifth album is no exception. The Californian rapper has a knack for dispersing rays of sunshine through his music, like a kind of sonic optimism, while his lyrics never shy away from hard-hitting facts. He knows how to authentically relate tales from the streets he grew up on while still playing down the harshness of his lyrics. This masterful handling of contrast gives his words real weight. This is Vince Staples main strength, as well as his ability to surround himself with production giants. Ramona Park Broke My Heart features DJ Dahi, DJ Mustard, Tommy Parker as well as the regulars Kenny Beats and Zack Sekoff, giving the album a deceptively stripped-down feel. On the track Magic feat. Mustard, Staples seems to bridge the gap between the LA and Memphis sounds, while paying a glowing tribute to a whole section of the historic West Coast scene on DJ Quik. Aside from his incredible lyrics, the most poignant thing is the interludes between the songs. How does a person come to kill, to not remember the names of his victims because "the bullets have no name"? How does fate lead a Black American straight to prison if he makes the slightest mistake? Vince Staples tackles all this with grace, sometimes brutally. In this respect, he’s undeniably one of the best. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

The daughter of the popular late R&B singer Donny, husky voiced Lalah Hathaway is the perfect foil for Joe Sample's compelling notion that The Song Lives On. Finding a happy medium between the graceful straight-ahead jazz trio vibe of his Invitation album and the plucky pop energy of Spellbound, Sample provides Hathaway on seven of the 11 tunes with a showcase for her sultry approach. His and Bill Shnee's production approach is generally sparse, not much more than piano and bass, enhanced on occasion by Fender Rhodes and the occasional smoky input of Kirk Whalum. Sample doesn't seem to mind playing second fiddle most of the time, his trademark mix of dark chords and dancing, optimistic improvisations forming harmony lines behind her; often, though, his itchiness to step higher into the mix comes clear and he breaks into extended upbeat improvisations. On a cover of his Crusaders hit "Street Life," Hathaway turns the title into a mantra and Sample echoes her sentiments with sharp, percussive reiterations of the song's main melody. Then Hathaway stops and Michael Thompson steps in with some edgy electric guitar lines. Other song choices range from reverent takes on standards like "Fever" and "For All We Know" to vocal versions of older, well-known Sample instrumental hits; for example, with Norman Gimbel's cheery lyrics, Hathaway turns the once moody "All God's Children" into a life-affirming love song. The point seeming to be, in finding new life for both his old material and the classics, Sample is bringing a form of immortality to favorite songs. © Jonathan Widran /TiVo

Performance dynamo and chameleonic entertainment personality Robbie Williams made a rapid transformation -- from English football hooligan to dapper saloon singer -- for his fourth LP, Swing When You're Winning. Still, Williams' tribute to the great American songbook is a surprisingly natural fit with its intended target: '50s trad-pop patriarchs like Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. And just like those two loveable rogues, Williams has brawled and boozed in the past, but isn't afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve; in fact, he's one of the few modern pop stars to fully embrace affecting balladry and nuanced singing. Williams and longtime producer Guy Chambers are also extremely careful with their product, so it shouldn't be surprising that Swing When You're Winning has innumerable extra-musical touches to carry it over: the cover features Williams relaxing in the studio in a period suit; his contract with EMI enabled the addition of the treasured Capitol logo at the top of the sleeve, and several tracks were even recorded at the famed Capitol tower in Hollywood.Fortunately, Williams is no less careful with his performances. Since he lacks the authoritative air of master crooners like Sinatra and Bing Crosby (along with the rest of humanity), he instead plays up his closer connections to the world of Broadway. His readings are dynamic and emotional -- sometimes a consequence of trying to put a new spin on these classics (six of the covers are Sinatra standards, three are Bobby Darin's). He also invited, with nearly universal success, a series of duet partners: Nicole Kidman for the sublime "Somethin' Stupid," Jon Lovitz for the irresistibly catty "Well, Did You Evah," Rupert Everett for "They Can't Take That Away From Me," longtime Sinatra accompanist Bill Miller on "One for My Baby," even Sinatra himself for a version of "It Was a Very Good Year" on which Williams takes the first two verses (over the 1965 arrangement), then bows out as Sinatra's original counsels him concerning the later stages of life. Though it may be an overly close tribute to a familiar original (like many of the songs here), Williams' considerable skills with expression and interpretation largely overwhelm any close criticism. He's definitely much better on the comedy songs, especially the hilarious "Well, Did You Evah" (originally a duet for Crosby and Sinatra in the 1956 film High Society). Lovitz's rounded tones and faux-affected airs are a spot-on interpretation of Brother Cros, while Williams' emulation of a boorish lug ("That's a nice dress -- think I could talk her out of it?") is nearly perfect as well. Though arranger Steve Sidwell hasn't done many charts (and those for the movies Moulin Rouge, Bridget Jones' Diary, and Romeo + Juliet), he also acquits himself nicely aping classic scores for "One for My Baby" and "Beyond the Sea." The lone Robbie Williams original is "I Will Talk and Hollywood Will Listen," a sweeping pipe-dream fantasy of true American superstardom for Britain's biggest pop star. It could happen, too; Pierce Brosnan surely isn't growing any younger.© John Bush /TiVo

Sammy Hagar, the singer's last solo album, was released a year after his first album with Van Halen, 1986's 5150. Although it charted the highest of any of his records, peaking at number 14, it wasn't as successful as his three previous albums, suffering from a slick, synthesized production and a lack of consistent material. The power ballad "Give to Live" was a hit and a couple of the rockers raised above the pedestrian level, yet the overall product was rather faceless. Perhaps sensing the lackluster quality of the record, Hagar launched an MTV promotion to re-title the record; the winning entry was I Never Said Goodbye, and titled that way in subsequent pressings. The 1994 Unboxed compilation also called the album I Never Said Goodbye, not Sammy Hagar.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Super collection of the gal's best Mercury sides; circa 1956.© Opal Louis Nations /TiVo

Of all the multitudinous highways and byways down which the enterprising Deep Purple collector can travel, none, perhaps, is so surprising as The Butterfly Ball and the Grasshopper's Feast, Purple bassist Roger Glover's first "solo" album, and -- almost incidentally -- one of the most delightful children's records ever made. Yes, a children's record. In 1973, Glover was approached about creating a musical adaptation of artist Alan Aldridge and poet William Plomer's book of the same name -- a commission that surprised him, but which he nevertheless accepted. The book itself is delightful and, while Glover's work is unquestionably more heavily flavored by the near-psychedelia of the illustrations, the spirit of the text is retained as well, to create an album that stands among the few truly successful musical adaptations of an existing story yet committed to vinyl. Although Glover, as the album's premier composer, takes the bulk of the credit for this success, his co-conspirators, too, merit praise. Convening what resembles one of the greatest all-star lineups in heavy metal history -- and then banning them from even glancing toward their usual territory -- Glover is joined by Purple stalwarts David Coverdale and Glenn Hughes, future Rainbow frontman Ronnie James Dio, session stars Eddie Hardin and Tony Ashton, soul singer Jimmy Helms, Roxy Music's Eddie Jobson and John Gustafson, and three quarters of funk-rock aspirants Fancy. Each was given his own role to play and the resultant album is a tremendous mishmash of musical styles, from folky balladeering to psychedelic whimsy, but leaning most heavily toward an early-'70s pop/rock vibe -- for some reason, one could imagine the early Queen spending an awful lot of time listening to The Butterfly Ball and the Grasshopper's Feast. Given the heavily narrative nature of the project, it is best listened to in one session -- a handful of tracks certainly exist more to carry the tale than make a musical impact. Highlights, however, leap out from across the platter, with the macabre "Old Blind Mole" and the positively buoyant "Love Is All" the twin extremes around which the action revolves. Gustafson's hard rock "Watch out for the Bat," meanwhile, must surely have induced nightmares within the album's younger fans, while Dio's closing "Homeward" all but predicts the course of arena rock during the '80s. [The original vinyl packs 19 tracks; the 25th-Anniversary CD adds one, the European B-side "Little Chalk Blue," together with a fabulous enhanced multimedia clip ("Love Is All" again) taken from a projected animated TV series. It's a great package, as well as a chance to reacquaint yourself with one of childhood's most treasured tales.] © Dave Thompson /TiVo