Recorded in London with Andy Wright, their regular producer, this Simply Red album was first conceived as a scathing response to the COVID-19 pandemic. In order to get through this difficult period, Mick Hucknall, the famous lead singer of the British group (founded in 1985), focused on the positive things that surrounded him and attempted to transcribe this state of mind into his music. Among these positive elements are his wife and family, to whom he dedicates the opening song, Better With You, with its resplendent melody and energetic rhythm. In similar fashion to this track, the album is full of songs that emanate a contagious optimism – whether it’s funky (Just Like You), bluesy (Slapbang), rock (Too Long At The Fair), or even jazzy (Butterflies). It’s also clear that the red-haired singer-songwriter demonstrates his gift for the sensual ballad, especially when it allows him to showcase his famous falsetto (Let Your Hair Down, and his impressive guitar solo thanks to Kenji Suzuki). Mick Hucknall also mentions certain current topics that are close to his heart, such as the migrant crisis in Hey Mister. The album ends with Earth In A Lonely Space, clearly influenced by the Beatles' Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds. A flagship group of the 1980s, influenced by the 1960s yet perfectly at ease in their 2023 sneakers: this is Simply Red showing everything they’ve got to offer with their 13th album. ©Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

Sitting atop the charts in 1975, Elton John and Bernie Taupin recalled their rise to power in Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, their first explicitly conceptual effort since Tumbleweed Connection. It's no coincidence that it's their best album since then, showcasing each at the peak of his power, as John crafts supple, elastic, versatile pop and Taupin's inscrutable wordplay is evocative, even moving. What's best about the record is that it works best of a piece -- although it entered the charts at number one, this only had one huge hit in "Someone Saved My Life Tonight," which sounds even better here, since it tidily fits into the musical and lyrical themes. And although the musical skill on display here is dazzling, as it bounces between country and hard rock within the same song, this is certainly a grower. The album needs time to reveal its treasures, but once it does, it rivals Tumbleweed in terms of sheer consistency and eclipses it in scope, capturing John and Taupin at a pinnacle. They collapsed in hubris and excess not long afterward -- Rock of the Westies, which followed just months later is as scattered as this is focused -- but this remains a testament to the strengths of their creative partnership.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Architects of the angst-filled, post-grunge/nu-metal wave of the early 2000s, Staind ceased operations in 2012 and, in true tormented fashion, re-formed just as the COVID-19 pandemic was taking hold, which stopped their momentum. Emboldened by a successful 2022 tour, the band headed into the studio with Erik Ron (Godsmack, Panic! at the Disco, Black Veil Brides) to lay down a new set of songs. Bolstered by the potent singles "Lowest of Me" and "Cycle of Hurting," Confessions of the Fallen stays true to the Staind formula (dark, heavy, introspective, and anthemic), with some tasteful electronic flourishes giving the foundation a fresh coat of paint.© Tivo Staff /TiVo

Four years passed between Atlanta rapper and Dreamville affiliate JID's critically fawned-over 2018 album DiCaprio 2 and its proper follow-up, The Forever Story. Those years (an interminable amount of time between releases by commercial rap standards, even with JID showing up as a featured artist on multiple tracks and firing off a joint mixtape with EarthGang and Spillage Village in 2020) have culminated in an even sharper, more musically dense articulation of JID's profound talents with The Forever Story. The album is packed with nonstop displays of technical ability, complex wordplay, inventive use of beat switches, unpredictable shifts in flow and delivery, and forthright expression of experiences both personal and culturally shared. JID's stylistic range covers straightforward boom-bap steadiness as he ruminates on growing up poor on "Crack Sandwich," slippery flows over soul samples and anxious trap hi-hats on the 21 Savage-assisted "Surround Sound," interstellar jazz funk touches on "Stars," and even an unexpectedly beautiful collision of heavy synthesizer sequences and gospel harmonies on closing track "Lauder Too." The impressive list of contributors to The Forever Story includes production work from Thundercat, James Blake, Kaytranda, and others, while guest performances from Lil Durk, Kenny Mason, Ari Lennox, Lil Wayne, and several others keep the already angular flow of the record moving along at a head-spinning rate. With The Forever Story, JID turns in an album every bit as ambitious and monumental as the two solo studio outings that preceded it, growing in terms of technical talent while also opening up more lyrically.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

Coming off their work on Dntel's beautiful This Is the Dream of Evan and Chan, Jimmy Tamborello and Death Cab for Cutie's Ben Gibbard team up again for their full-length debut as Postal Service, Give Up. Instead of covering that EP's territory again, with this album the duo crafts a poppier, new wave-inflected sound that recalls Tamborello's work with Figurine more than Dntel's lovely subtlety. However, Ben Gibbard's famously bittersweet vocals and sharp, sensitive lyrics imbue Give Up with more emotional heft than you might expect from a synth pop album, especially one by a side project from musicians as busy as Tamborello and Gibbard are. The album exploits the contrast between the cool, clean synths and Gibbard's all-too-human voice to poignant and playful effect, particularly on Give Up's first two tracks. "The District Sleeps Alone" bears Gibbard's trademark songwriting, augmented by glitchy electronics and sliced-and-diced strings, while "Such Great Heights"' pretty pop could easily appear on a Death Cab for Cutie album, minus a synth or two. Despite some nods to more contemporary electronic pop, Give Up's sound is based in classic new wave and synth pop, at times resembling an indie version of New Order or the Pet Shop Boys. Songs like "Nothing Better," a duet that plays like an update on Human League's "Don't You Want Me?," and the video-game brightness of "Brand New Colony" sound overtly like the '80s brought into the present, but the tinny, preset synth and drum sounds on the entire album recall that decade. Sometimes, as on "Recycled Air" and "We Will Become Silhouettes," the retro sounds become distracting, but for the most part they add to the album's playful charm. The spooky ballad "This Place Is a Prison" is perhaps the most modern-sounding track and the closest in sound and spirit to Gibbard and Tamborello's Dntel work. The crunchy, distorted beats and sparkling synths recall both This Is the Dream of Evan and Chan and Björk's recent work; indeed, this song, along with the "All Is Full of Love" cover Death Cab included on their Stability EP, could be seen as an ongoing tribute to her. Overall, Give Up is a fun diversion for Tamborello, Gibbard, and their fans. It doesn't scale the heights of either of their main projects, but it's far more consistent and enjoyable than might be expected.© Heather Phares /TiVo

Thirty years later and the musical talent and inspiration is still as impressive as ever. Dream Theater release not a mere 13th album in a glorious career, but a real rock opera - and in two acts! A mammoth project called The Astonishing comes into being as James LaBrie (vocals), John Petrucci (guitar), Jordan Rudess (keyboards), John Myung (bass) and Mike Mangini (drums and percussion) take up their instruments in this tribute to rock. The score is an impressive masterpiece, with instrumental virtuosity managing. Untouchable masters of progressive metal, the Boston gang recorded these 34 titles in Cove City Sound Studios, Long Island, with Petrucci as producer and the participation of sound engineer Richard Chycki (Aerosmith, Rush) - combine this with the input of legendary arranger, composer and Canadian conductor David Campbell (also Beck's father), and you've got yourself a seriously impressive team. The Astonishing tells the story of a post-apocalyptic retro-futuristic dystopia... need we say more? © CM / Qobuz

Faye Webster's songs are like the musical equivalent of a drizzly morning when you know the sun is on its way—beautiful, sleepy in an appealingly decadent way, and full of promise. "Better Distractions," the gently percolating opening track from the singer-songwriter's fourth album, is a little jazzy, a little country, a little folky, flirting with the melody of "Something Stupid" while Webster comes on like a melting-butter version of Rickie Lee Jones. No wonder Barack Obama chose it as one of his favorite songs of 2020. "Sometimes" washes over you like a warm bath, while "A Stranger" employs sweeping romantic strings borrowed from an old movie—then adds deep pauses between drum beats to both heighten the drama and force the listener into a state of relaxation. The slip-sliding guitar of "Kind Of" has a similar magic effect, but the slightly off-kilter drum beat keeps you engaged and on your feet. "It feels kind of tucked away," Webster sings again and again, which is a pretty apt description of the song itself. Weirdly, "Kind Of" also suggests Webster could write a killer ballad for Gwen Stefani, as does "In a Good Way," its flamenco-flirting guitar smartly bouncing off her vocal melody. "Both All the Time"—"There's a difference between lonely and lonesome/ but I'm both all the time"—uses a plodding bass to underscore a sense of delicious wallowing, then adds triangle to interrupt her dark reverie, like the return of a typewriter putting a definitive punctuation on a thought. (It also lives up to the album title.) With its lazy sax, "A Dream with a Baseball Player" is a light and sexy take on girl-group shoop-shoop. "Overslept" finds Webster matched for low-key loveliness by Japanese singer-songwriter mei ehara. And "Cheers" is positively strident for the extremely low-key (if sometimes anxious-sounding) Webster, its slinky guitar bobbing atop a caffeinated rhythm, like a Courtney Barnett outtake. Good stuff. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

IIII is the fourth album from German DJ and producer Robin Schultz and follows 2017 Uncovered. The album, which includes the single "All We Got," sees the producer delivering a blast of anthemic house-tinged pop.© Rich Wilson /TiVo

Rattus Norvegicus, the Stranglers' first album (and first of two in 1977), was hardly a punk rock classic, but it outsold every other punk album and remains a pretty good chunk of art-punk. On the other hand, No More Heroes, recorded three months later and released in September 1977, is faster, nastier, and better. At this point the Stranglers were on top of their game, and the ferocity and anger that suffuses this record would never be repeated. Hugh Cornwell's testosterone level is very high, but it's still an enjoyable bit of noise that holds up better than anyone would have guessed at the time.© John Dougan /TiVo

Carly Pearce named her 2021 project -- an album teased as a mini-LP in February, then delivered in full as 29: Written in Stone in September -- after a tumultuous year in her life, 12 months that saw her get married and divorced and lose her close collaborator busbee to cancer. Pearce found empathetic collaborators in Shane McAnally and Josh Osborne, a pair of Nashville heavyweights who help the singer/songwriter process these significant life changes by co-writing a collection of seven songs where she grapples with loss and growth, often in a quiet, introspective fashion. There are exceptions to this rule, of course. With help from Patty Loveless, Pearce sings an effectively gritty tribute to Loretta Lynn, "You're Drinkin', My Problem" is much more effervescent than the title suggests, while the project's lead single, "Next Girl," is a sprightly kiss-off. "Next Girl" is poppy but in a retro sense -- it has none of the bright modern sheen busbee brought to his productions -- and it helps set the stage for six keening, searching autobiographical tunes. While Pearce's lyrics can occasionally be a bit too on-the-nose -- it's not that she delves into personal details, it's that she ties up her messy emotions with a tidy bow -- her vulnerability is endearing, and the craftsmanship, aided by producers Shane McAnally and Josh Osborne, is sturdy, so the music retains its appeal even after the stories become familiar. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

When Ice Cube split from N.W.A after the group's seminal Straight Outta Compton album changed the world forever, expectations were high, too high to ever be met by anyone but the most talented of artists, and at his most inspired. At the time Cube was just that. With AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted the rapper expanded upon Compton, making a more full-bodied album that helped boost the role of the individual in hip-hop. Save the dramatic intro where a mythical Ice Cube is fried in the electric chair, his debut is filled with eye-level views of the inner city that are always vivid, generally frightening, generally personal, and sometimes humorous in the gallows style. Ripping it quickly over a loop from George Clinton's "Atomic Dog," Cube asks the question that would be central to his early career, "Why there more niggas in the pen than in college?," while sticking with the mutual distrust and scare tactics N.W.A used to wipe away any hopes of reconciliation ("They all scared of the Ice Cube/And what I say what I portray and all that/And ain't even seen the gat"). "What I'm kicking to you won't get rotation/Nowhere in the nation" he spits on the classic "Turn Off the Radio," which when coupled with the intoxicating Bomb Squad production and Cube's cocksure delivery that's just below a shout, makes one think he's the only radio the inner city needs. The Bomb Squad's amazing work on the album proves they've been overly associated with Public Enemy, since their ability to adapt to AmeriKKKa's more violent and quick revolution is underappreciated. Their high point is the intense "Endangered Species," a "live by the trigger" song that offers "It's a shame, that niggas die young/But to the light side it don't matter none." This street knowledge venom with ultra fast funk works splendidly throughout the album, with every track hitting home, although the joyless "You Can't Fade Me" has alienated many a listener since kicking a possibly pregnant woman in the stomach is a very hard one to take. Just to be as confusing as the world he lives in, the supposedly misogynistic Cube introduces female protégé Yo-Yo with "It's a Man's World" before exiting with "The Bomb," a perfectly unforgiving and visceral closer. Save a couple Arsenio Hall disses, AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted is a timeless, riveting exercise in anger, honesty, and the sociopolitical possibilities of hip-hop.© David Jeffries /TiVo

To put Chinese Democracy in some perspective: it arrives 17 years after the twin Use Your Illusion, the last set of original music by Guns N' Roses. Consider that 17 years prior to the Illusions, it was 1974, back before the Ramones and Sex Pistols, back before Aerosmith had Rocks and Toys in the Attic, back before Queen had A Night at the Opera -- back before almost anything that Axl Rose worships even existed. Generations have passed in these 17 years, but not for Axl. He cut himself off from the world following the trouble-ridden Use Your Illusion tour, retreating to the Hollywood Hills, swapping every original GNR member in favor of contract players culled from his mid-'90s musical obsessions -- Tommy Stinson from the Replacements, Robin Finck from Nine Inch Nails, Buckethead from guitar magazines -- as he turned into rock's Charles Foster Kane, a genius in self-imposed exile spending millions to make his own Xanadu, Chinese Democracy. Like Xanadu, Chinese Democracy is a monument to man's might, but where Kane sought to bring the world underneath his roof, Axl labored to create an ideal version of his inner world, working endlessly on a set of songs about his heartbreak, persecution, and paranoia, topics well mined on the Illusions. Using the pompous ten-minute epics "Estranged" and "November Rain" as his foundation, Axl strips away all remnants of the old, snake-dancing GNR, shedding the black humor and blues, replacing any good times with vindictive spleen in the vein of "You Could Be Mine." All this melodrama and malevolence feels familiar and, surprisingly, so does much of Chinese Democracy, even for those listeners who didn't hear the portions of the record as leaked demos and live tracks. Despite a few surface flourishes -- all the endless, evident hours spent on Pro Tools, a hip-hop loop here, a Spanish six-string there, absurd elastic guitar effects -- this is an album unconcerned with the future of rock & roll. One listen and it's abundantly clear that Axl spent the decade-plus in the studio not reinventing but refining, obsessing over a handful of tracks, and spending an inordinate amount of time chasing the sound in his head -- that's it, no more, no less. Such maniacal indulgence is ridiculous but strangely understandable: Rose received unlimited time and money to create this album, so why not take full advantage and obsess over every last detail? The odd thing is, he spent all this time and money on an album that is deliberately not a grand masterpiece -- a record that pushes limits or digs deep -- but merely a set of 14 songs. Compared to the chaotic Use Your Illusion, Chinese Democracy feels strangely modest, but that's because it's a single polished album, not a double album so overstuffed that it duplicates songs. Modest is an odd word for an album a decade-plus in the making, but Axl's intent is oddly simple: he sees GNR not as a gutter-rock band but as a pomp-rock vehicle for him to lash out against all those who don't trust him, whether it's failed friends, lapsed fans, ex-lovers, former managers, fired bandmates, or rock critics. Chinese Democracy is the best articulation of this megalomania as could be possible, so the only thing to quibble about is his execution, which occasionally is perplexing, particularly when Rose slides into hammy vocal inflections or encourages complicated guitar that only guitarists appreciate (it's telling that the only memorable phrases from Robin Finck, Buckethead, or Bumblefoot or whoever are ones that mimic Slash's full-throated melodic growl). Even with these odd flourishes, it's hard not to marvel, either in respect or bewilderment, at the dense, immaculate wall of god knows how many guitars, synthesizers, vocals, and strings. The production is so dense that it's hard to warm to, but it fits the music. These aren't songs that grab and hold; they're songs that unfold, so much so that Chinese Democracy may seem a little underwhelming upon its first listen. It's not just the years of pent-up anticipation, it's that Axl spent so much time creating the music -- constructing the structure and then filling out the frame -- that there's no easy way into the album. That, combined with the realization that Axl isn't trying to reinvent GNR, but just finishing what he started on the Illusions, can make Chinese Democracy seem mildly anticlimactic, but Rose spent a decade-plus working on this -- he deserves to not have it dismissed on a cursory listen. Give it time, listening like it was 1998 and not 2008, and the album does give up some terrific music -- music that is overblown but not overdone. True, those good moments are the songs that have kicked around the Internet for the entirety of the new millennium: the slinky, spiteful "Better," slowly building into its fury; the quite gorgeous if heavy-handed "Street of Dreams"; "There Was a Time," which overcomes its acronym and lack of chorus on its sheer drama; "Catcher in the Rye," the lightest, brightest moment here; the slow, grinding "I.R.S."; and "Madagascar," a ludicrous rueful rumination that finds space for quotations from Martin Luther King amidst its trip-hop pulse. These aren't innovations; they're extensions of "Breakdown" and "Estranged," epics that require some work to decode because Axl forces the listener to meet him on his own terms. This all-consuming artistic narcissism has become Rose's defining trait, not letting him move forward, but only to relentlessly explore the same territory over and over again. And this solipsism turns Chinese Democracy into something strangely, surprisingly simple: it won't change music, it won't change any lives, it's just 14 more songs about loneliness and persecution. Or as Axl put it in an apology for canceled concerts in 2006, "In the end, it's just an album." And it's a good album, no less and no more.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Twenty years after her debut, Lisa Ekdah revisits pop gems past and present with the usual playfulness, finesse and class that we have become accustomed to from her. On Grand Songs, the Swede is covering a lot of ground, with versions of numbers by Billie Eilish (Wish You Were Gay), The Beatles (I Should Have Known Better), Bob Dylan (Most of the Time) and Beyoncé (If I Were a Boy), as well as Diana Ross and the Supremes (Stop! In the Name of Love), The Monkees (Take a Giant Step) and James Taylor (You Can Close Your Eyes). Like any jazz singer worth their salt, Ekdahl excels with this tricky material and takes advantage of it in order to showcase her unique vocal timbres. The backing here alternates between jazz quintet and large string orchestra with intimate sequences giving way to a dash of lush hedonism. Ekdahl is at her best when she dares to surprise, as on the delightful bossa nova version of I Should Have Known Better and her very 1950s jazz cover of If I Were a Boy. These two tracks are the clear the highlights of a delightful record. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

There have been plenty of George Strait compilations, and most of have been very good, but none have been as good as 2004's 50 Number Ones. While the 1995 box set Strait Out of the Box illustrated the range and depth of Strait's musical achievement, it may have been too lengthy for some listeners, and shorter compilations like the two-volume The Very Best of Strait left too many hits behind -- and by 2004, all those compilations were out-dated, since Strait continued to top the charts until the release of 50 Number Ones. This double-disc contains all the big hits that he's had since Strait Out of the Box, along with all of his classics from the '80s and early '90s. The title might bend the truth a little bit -- at least according to the Billboard charts, such latter-day singles as "True" and "Run" only peaked at number two, not number one -- but it doesn't matter, since this contains all of his major singles in one convenient package. And it's not noteworthy just because it's one-stop shopping, it's also noteworthy because it proves exactly how consistent George Strait's body of work has been over the last twenty-some years. From start to finish, there's not a slow spot here -- it's a thoroughly entertaining collection that belongs in the ranks of country's greatest-hits albums.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo