It's been nearly a decade since Meshell Ndegeocello last released a new and original album. Although we did get an excellent collection of covers in 2018 (Ventriloquism), it was 2014's Comet, Come to Me that last gave the world a glimpse of Ndegeocello's highly unique creative approach. That album found Ndegeocello exploring a relatively genre-agnostic (if somewhat indie-rockist) approach alongside her regular collaborators and a clutch of guests. Although the set was just a bit more than EP length, it showed an artist still unwilling to be hemmed in by anyone's expectations of what her music should sound like. Fast forward to 2023: Ndegeocello has lost her parents, suffered through the isolation and creative restraints of a pandemic, and come out on the other side with a new label (Blue Note) and an album, The Omnichord Real Book, that is both her boldest stylistic exploration yet, but also one that's resoundingly true to the creative journey she's been on since the '90s. To be clear, Omnichord both is and is not "a pandemic album"; while certainly inspired by the reality of the last few years, Ndegeocello has taken that energy and funneled it into a kaleidoscopic and energetic batch of tunes that celebrate individuality and collaboration, with more than a dozen guests scattered throughout the album's 18 tracks. And yes, her new home at Blue Note is an appropriate one: not because she's decided to make that late-career "guess I should make a jazz album" move that many middle-aged artists make, but more because the stylistic definition of "jazz" has, over the past few years, moved closer and closer to the soulful, funky futurism that Ndegeocello has trafficked in for decades. The eight-minute "Virgo" doesn't arrive until the last third of the album, but it is an expansive declaration of intent, an intensely rewarding piece, and probably the clearest distillation of what Ndegeocello is doing on Omnichord. Steeped in Afrofuturism and anchored by throbbing synth grooves and staccato funk guitar, the song also features Brandee Younger's harp, and a swirling Farfisa organ played by Julius Rodriguez; it's a robust open dialogue between extremely talented musicians, but also one mediated by Ndegeocello's insistent space-brained vision; that it gets reprised at the end of the album in an evocative arrangement by jazz icon Oliver Lake only underlines the strength and mutability of the material here. Of course, Ndegeocello's robust, whispery singing voice is still a primary ingredient, and it's in top form throughout the album—evocative and occasionally ethereal but always intensely expressive. And on a few numbers she gets a great assist from South African singer Thandiswa Mazwai, most compellingly on the driving funk workout of "Vuma." © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

The Last Dinner Party is a love-them-or-hate-them band: Either you are charmed by the theatricality—the high-fashion take on barmaid/wench costumery, singer Abigail Morris' over-the-top delivery, the musical girl-power of it all—or you are likely to roll your eyes. Lush, louche, lusty and fun, the band's songs and style draw from a history of Siouxsie Sioux, Bryan Ferry, Florence Welch and early '80s New Romantics. It's the kind of grand-scale zeitgeist shift, kick-started by Wet Leg, that was inevitable after the humble trend of lo-fi bedroom pop. "Nothing Matters," the alternative-radio hit, is truly excellent, with an alchemic formula of clicky New Wave drums, hair-metal guitar riffs, vivid trumpets and a cathartic chorus meant to be shouted at shows: "And you can hold me like he held her/ And I will fuck you like nothing matters." "Caesar on a TV Screen" is wonderfully weird, encompassing swoony verses, a mischievous Roxy Music-style pre-chorus and a majestic chorus. Morris (who sounds like her arched eyebrow never drops) chews up all the scenery—over-enunciating, milking her English accent, and having the time of her life—with lines like "And just for a second, I could be one of the greats/ I am Caesar on a TV screen, champion of my fate!" Earworm "My Lady of Mercy" is about having a crush on Joan of Arc and sounds like crusaders rushing into battle, complete with cheerleader handclaps, rumble-strip rhythm, a snarling guitar line from Emily Robert and a monster chorus. The Infectious "Sinner" offers tempestuous Morris the sweetened foil of guitarist Lizzie Mayland, as the two trade verses and harmonize over Aurora Nishevci's baroque piano; it feels like a delightful game of cat-and-mouse. Appropriately, Prelude to Ecstasy is mixed by A-list producer Alan Moulder, who has a long history of working with high-drama bands like My Bloody Valentine, Nine Inch Nails and Interpol, and he helps The Last Dinner Party go up to 11: Spinal Tap meets Velvet Goldmine. (Visually, it's hard to recall a rock band having this much fun with fashion—referencing everything from Picnic At Hanging Rock to Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette—since early Duran Duran and Culture Club.) Even the less-bombastic moments, like ballerina-sweet piano ballad "On Your Side" or the chamber pop of "Portrait of a Dead Girl," play cinematically. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

In celebration of their 40 th anniversary, The Cure didn’t just hire out a little pub in their hometown of Crawley, Sussex – they hired out the whole of Hyde Park instead! What an epic location for an epic group. The recording of this concert on July 7, 2018 in London in front of a crowd of 65,000 people is a reminder that the style, sound, creativity, song- writing and atmosphere that Robert Smith and his gang bring to the table is like no other. With his mascara, lipstick and static hair-do, the lead singer of The Cure has never sung so well despite being only a few months off his 60 th birthday here. The concert journeys through four decades of hits (which are sometimes cold wave but are mostly pop) and you can really appreciate the breadth of their work, along with all those melodies that you recognise subconsciously and Robert Smith’s ability to just get on with it. Joined onstage by his long-time partner in crime Simon Gallup (bass), as well as Reeves Gabrels (guitar), Roger O’Donnell (keyboards) and Jason Cooper (drums), he sings some beautiful versions of Pictures of You, In Between Days, Just Like Heaven, A Forest, Disintegration, Lullaby, The Caterpillar, Friday I’m in Love, Close to Me, Boys Don’t Cry, 10:15 Saturday Night and Killing an Arab. © Max Dembo/Qobuz

Michael Jackson had recorded solo prior to the release of Off the Wall in 1979, but this was his breakthrough, the album that established him as an artist of astonishing talent and a bright star in his own right. This was a visionary album, a record that found a way to break disco wide open into a new world where the beat was undeniable, but not the primary focus -- it was part of a colorful tapestry of lush ballads and strings, smooth soul and pop, soft rock, and alluring funk. Its roots hearken back to the Jacksons' huge mid-'70s hit "Dancing Machine," but this is an enormously fresh record, one that remains vibrant and giddily exciting years after its release. This is certainly due to Jackson's emergence as a blindingly gifted vocalist, equally skilled with overwrought ballads as "She's Out of My Life" as driving dancefloor shakers as "Working Day and Night" and "Get on the Floor," where his asides are as gripping as his delivery on the verses. It's also due to the brilliant songwriting, an intoxicating blend of strong melodies, rhythmic hooks, and indelible construction. Most of all, its success is due to the sound constructed by Jackson and producer Quincy Jones, a dazzling array of disco beats, funk guitars, clean mainstream pop, and unashamed (and therefore affecting) schmaltz that is utterly thrilling in its utter joy. This is highly professional, highly crafted music, and its details are evident, but the overall effect is nothing but pure pleasure. Jackson and Jones expanded this approach on the blockbuster Thriller, often with equally stunning results, but they never bettered it.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

At the close of experimental solo careers for both Thom Yorke and Phil Selway, and the film soundtracks of Jonny Greenwood, Radiohead has finally come back to the fold with their ninth studio album. It's proof that talent never leaves you, more than thirty years after the band got together. Talent yes, surprises no. In fact, the biggest surprise on A Moon Shaped Pool is that there is no surprise. The Oxford grown quintet has undoubtedly just released their most "classic" album, almost with their eyes closed. Yorke is omni-present in the sound, and you can hear his influence throughout. As such, it's like listening to an old Radiohead record, without having heard it before. Radiohead have set aside their experimental tendencies in favour of sometimes minimalist, sometimes luxurious arrangements. Even in the most impressive arrangements for strings, Jonny Greenwood seems to be aiming for purity, (see Daydreaming). His diverse works on the 7th Art and, most notably, for the director Paul Thomas Anderson (Greenwood penned the soundtracks to There will be Blood, The Master, and Inherent Vice) have clearly given him a new vision that makes its presence felt. Even on the most intimate tracks (Desert Island Discs), Radiohead maintains a certain majesty, and when they get to post-rock (Full Stop and Present Tense), their musique becomes grandiose. With such an album, Radiohead pushes the legend slightly further, preserves its distinct style, and adds to its already legendary discography.© CM/Qobuz

Having re-established his reputation with the musically varied, lyrically enraged Freedom, Neil Young returned to being the lead guitarist of Crazy Horse for the musically homogenous, lyrically hopeful Ragged Glory. The album's dominant sound was made by Young's noisy guitar, which bordered on and sometimes slipped over into distortion, while Crazy Horse kept up the songs' bright tempos. Despite the volume, the tunes were catchy, with strong melodies and good choruses, and they were given over to love, humor, and warm reminiscence. They were also platforms for often extended guitar excursions: "Love to Burn" and "Love and Only Love" ran over ten minutes each, and the album as a whole lasted nearly 63 minutes with only ten songs. Much about the record had a retrospective feel -- the first two tracks, "Country Home" and "White Line," were newly recorded versions of songs Young had played with Crazy Horse but never released in the '70s; "Mansion on the Hill," the album's most accessible track, celebrated a place where "psychedelic music fills the air" and "peace and love live there still"; there was a cover of the Premiers' garage rock oldie "Farmer John"; and "Days That Used to Be," in addition to its backward-looking theme, borrowed the melody from Bob Dylan's "My Back Pages" (by way of the Byrds' arrangement), while "Mother Earth (Natural Anthem)" was the folk standard "The Water Is Wide" with new, environmentally aware lyrics. Young was not generally known as an artist who evoked the past this much, but if he could extend his creative rebirth with music this exhilarating, no one was likely to complain.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

In 2013 when, to everyone's surprise, the impeccable Same Trailer Different Park won the Grammy Award for best country album, Kacey Musgraves wisely dodged the pitfalls of Nashville: namely, the temptation to become yet another knock-off Taylor Swift. And it shows in her lyrics about homosexuality, dope smoking and single mothers – themes that are none too popular on the more conservative fringe of American country music... for Pageant Material, her second work, which came out in summer 2015, the Texan continued in much the same vein. Where a song looks to be setting out on a well-worn, cliché-ridden path, our young cowgirl gives a sharp tug on the reins and really makes the writing shine. We alternate between pure country and pop country, by way of some numbers with much more of a slightly retro rock flavour, with banjo and pedal steel guitar, or, going the other way, languorous violins... Without completely revolutionising the genre or rattling the walls of Nashville, this daughter of Golden, Texas certainly left fans wondering what her next album was going to look like... In Spring 2018, Kacey Musgraves gave them their answer. A third album, this time slanted a little more towards pop. While country fundamentalists might switch off, the curious would do well to listen to Golden Hour to the end. It might be the fact of her recent wedding to colleague Ruston Kelly that colours this record with love with a capital L. Without coming off soppy, these love songs offer real emotion and a new sincerity. In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Kacey Musgraves said she was influenced by Neil Young, Sade and the Bee Gees! Quite an eclectic and surprising triumvirate, but after listening to Golden Hour right the way through, it makes sense, kind of. Let yourself be carried away by songs that flower like an Indian summer, and their strikingly moving melodies. © Max Dembo/Qobuz

Hailed for songwriting skill and an unironic embrace of outlaw country, Chris Stapleton, on his fourth album, puts his vocal versatility on impressive display. Supported by a moody, shadowy string section, he unfurls a torch-singer side on "Cold," a heartbreaker that lives up to its name in feel and lyrics—"Why you got to be so cold/ Why you got to go and cut me like a knife/ Put our love on ice." The lowdown-and-dirty guitar of "Whiskey Sunrise" is matched for power by a wailing blues delivery from Stapleton. And he cuts loose with a Southern-rock howl on the Tom Petty-esque swamp stomp "Devil Always Made Me Think Twice." An early Petty influence is alive and present across Starting Over, with Heartbreakers Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench guesting on guitar and Hammond B3, respectively. Stapleton co-wrote the simmer-to-fury "Watch You Burn" with Campbell, and the guitarist's signature style is front-and-center on "Arkansas," a heavy Southern-rock blues burner celebrating the underrated beauty of the Ozarks. The ghost of Guy Clark also blesses the sessions, as Stapleton covers a back-to-back shot of the songwriter's "Worry B Gone" and "Old Friends" and former with a velocity that makes Willie Nelson's gentle version sound cute. (A flow-like-the-creek cover of John Fogerty's "Joy of My Life" is more faithful.) As on previous releases, Stapleton's wife and collaborator Morgane Stapleton lends angelic vocal harmonies, sweetening the sobering, Kristofferson-sounding ballad "When I'm With You," which find her husband taking stock of middle age and where it goes from there: "I'm 40 years old/ And it looks like the end of the rainbow ain't no pot of gold." She also shows up on that song's spiritual flip side and the album's title track, an optimistic, stripped-down guitar jangle: "I can be your lucky penny/ You can be my four-leaf clover.” Indeed, for all his tough-guy appearance, there's always been a tender side to Stapleton, and he shows every bit of it on "Maggie's Song," an absolute tearjerker about a found dog's life and death that's teed up and ready for a pickup truck commercial. (Nothing wrong with that.) And lest anyone ever doubt his outlaw tendencies, Stapleton ends on an absolutely gorgeous kiss-off to the country capital: "So long Nashville, Tennessee/ You can't have what's left of me." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

A “roadhouse” is a kind of roadside bar located in the middle of nowhere for drinking and listening to music. Thanks in part to David Lynch’s Twin Peaks, roadhouses have acquired a unique reputation and irremediably generate an image that is at once strange, comforting, and melancholic. For the conception of their sixth album, the members of the Australian group The Paper Kites have certainly had a Lynchian ambiance in mind, as the record’s sleeve proves. The photo taken by Dara Munnis represents an actual roadhouse where the group played every night for a month. All of the album’s songs are taken from the concerts performed during this unique residency in the small town of Campbells Creek. Sam Bentley, the leader of the group, explains that Roadhouse is the fruit of a “collective dream”. “We wanted it to be a combination of all the greatest dive bars you’ve ever been to, late-night watering holes, smoky taverns, biker bars”, he adds. The overall color of the album is country and folk, found in the ballads dominated by the banjo, the harmonica, or even the steel guitar (“Rolling On Easy”, “The Sweet Sound of You” and “Hurts So Good”). Others, like “Marietta”, “Mercy” and “I Don’t Want to Go That Way” can instead be put away in the syrupy romanticism aisle, which is emphasized by the singer’s beautifully mournful voice. As for the tracks “Black & Thunder” and “June’s Stolen Car”, they stray a bit from the original folk trajectory and swing toward a more bluesy rock flavor. It’s an atmospheric album that feels like a comforting pause in the middle of a long trip on the desert roads of Australia. ©Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

After a trilogy that propelled them to the top, Imagine Dragons are once again lighting concert halls on fire with a fourth opus: Origins. The Las Vegas band had made an impressive entrance with a subtle blend of rock and pop, adorned with almost dance tones. With Natural, Dan Reynolds sings at the top of his voice over a catchy chorus, a technique used throughout the rest of the album. Energetic and rhythmic choirs (Machine), eighties-style electro bass and romantic vocals (Cool Out), and even folk melodies on the acoustic guitar (West Coast) − Imagine Dragons have gone for eclecticism and it works! Even though they are carrying on the tradition of XXL hit songs and relying on harmonic powers, it’s their punchy songwriting that shines through. Their latest album, Evolve, explored relatively dark territories, whereas with Origins the scope significantly expands: identity problems, messages of hope, realisation of various anxieties… Imagine Dragons express many different emotions. It’s an album that will once again ensure exponential success to these kings of the charts. © Anna Coluthe/Qobuz

With Dan Auerbach now a studio owner and label chief, it's natural to wonder how he is finding the time to write quality songs and record with his original band. Or focus enough to make another masterpiece like 2004's Rubber Factory or 2011's El Camino. That situation may have influenced the title of this collection, but any fears about consistency or the way forward are dispelled by the opening riff rocker, "Wild Child." The vintage Black Keys three chord tromper "Your Team is Looking Good" also rocks convincingly, and they get back to one of their core strengths—Mississippi hill country blues stomp, which they celebrated on their last album, Delta Kream—in "For the Love of Money." In a strange turn, the biggest guest here, ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons isn't asked to do much in the mid-tempo "Good Love," which he co-wrote.  Recorded at Auerbach's Easy Eye Sound studio in Nashville over a five-month period in summer and fall of 2021, Dropout Boogie was engineered by M. Allen Parker and Caleb VanBuskirk and mixed by the A-list talents of Tchad Blake and Tom Elmhirst. Percussionist Sam Bacco adds variety to Patrick Carney's drumming. A deceptively capable vocalist, Auerbach takes a very credible stab at writing and singing a ballad in "How Long" which is fleshed out by a harpsichord and backup vocals by Cincinnati's Andy Gabbard (Thee Shams, Buffalo Killers) who also tours as The Black Keys' second guitarist. Auerbach sings incendiary lyrics, "If we make it to your town/ We're gonna burn the damn thing down" in odd, leisurely fashion in the decidedly non-menacing, "Burn the Damn Thing Down." And near its end, "Baby I'm Coming Home" breaks into the signature riff from the Allman Brothers, "Midnight Rider."  As the album's second half winds down, so does the strength of the tunes, but you'll still find the same fuzzy guitars, big beats and layered vocals that have made their sound special.  If not essential Black Keys, the lower key Dropout Boogie is at least more of what's made them one of the last major rock bands left alive.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

The Last Dinner Party is a love-them-or-hate-them band: Either you are charmed by the theatricality—the high-fashion take on barmaid/wench costumery, singer Abigail Morris' over-the-top delivery, the musical girl-power of it all—or you are likely to roll your eyes. Lush, louche, lusty and fun, the band's songs and style draw from a history of Siouxsie Sioux, Bryan Ferry, Florence Welch and early '80s New Romantics. It's the kind of grand-scale zeitgeist shift, kick-started by Wet Leg, that was inevitable after the humble trend of lo-fi bedroom pop. "Nothing Matters," the alternative-radio hit, is truly excellent, with an alchemic formula of clicky New Wave drums, hair-metal guitar riffs, vivid trumpets and a cathartic chorus meant to be shouted at shows: "And you can hold me like he held her/ And I will fuck you like nothing matters." "Caesar on a TV Screen" is wonderfully weird, encompassing swoony verses, a mischievous Roxy Music-style pre-chorus and a majestic chorus. Morris (who sounds like her arched eyebrow never drops) chews up all the scenery—over-enunciating, milking her English accent, and having the time of her life—with lines like "And just for a second, I could be one of the greats/ I am Caesar on a TV screen, champion of my fate!" Earworm "My Lady of Mercy" is about having a crush on Joan of Arc and sounds like crusaders rushing into battle, complete with cheerleader handclaps, rumble-strip rhythm, a snarling guitar line from Emily Robert and a monster chorus. The Infectious "Sinner" offers tempestuous Morris the sweetened foil of guitarist Lizzie Mayland, as the two trade verses and harmonize over Aurora Nishevci's baroque piano; it feels like a delightful game of cat-and-mouse. Appropriately, Prelude to Ecstasy is mixed by A-list producer Alan Moulder, who has a long history of working with high-drama bands like My Bloody Valentine, Nine Inch Nails and Interpol, and he helps The Last Dinner Party go up to 11: Spinal Tap meets Velvet Goldmine. (Visually, it's hard to recall a rock band having this much fun with fashion—referencing everything from Picnic At Hanging Rock to Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette—since early Duran Duran and Culture Club.) Even the less-bombastic moments, like ballerina-sweet piano ballad "On Your Side" or the chamber pop of "Portrait of a Dead Girl," play cinematically. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

It is important to realize that Norah Jones is not just a famous persona waving from the cover of a glossy magazine, or simply “a pretty face". The truth is far deeper... Day Breaks is further evidence of her undeniable talent, but also of a tangible artistic evolution. Mixing beautiful original compositions with a sprinkling of great classics (Horace Silver, Neil Young and Duke Ellington), the sixth album from the New Yorker who grew up in Texas brings her many and diverse passions together in one place.  Always lying within the realms of jazz, soul, pop and folk, it is her sincere and visceral love for the former that inhabits this stylish album, which doesn't dwell in the past for a single second. Over the years, the piano (much like her vocals) have toggled between nonchalance and pugnacity. Saxophonist Wayne Shorter, bassist John Patitucci and drummer Brian Blade are among the accomplices invited to the party here, and the experience of those involved is truly telling. Somehow, Day Breaks manages to see eye to eye with Come Away With Me, her first disc released back in 2002, and one that propelled her to the top of the charts. This 2016 vintage is even more structured than previous efforts. Mastered to perfection, the latest effort serves to epitomize the grace and beauty of this timeless artist. © MZ / Qobuz

The debut EP from 15-year-old electronic pop singer/songwriter Billie Eilish, dont smile at me arrived in August 2017 from the Interscope label. Produced and co-written by Eilish's older brother, Finneas O'Connell, the eight-track release features the lush and lonesome single "Ocean Eyes," a song that first went viral for the Los Angeles-based artist in 2016 and brought her to the attention of Interscope. Eilish's sound is sleek, sometimes quirky, and often characterized by clever wordplay. Subsequent singles "watch" and "COPYCAT" were issued in the summer of 2017 in advance of the EP's release.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

Tori Amos has said that her new album—her 16th—is "about your losses, and how you cope with them." For her, that includes pandemic lockdown and the Capitol riots, as viewed from her remote farm in Cornwall, England. The area inspired her with its ancient mythology, including tales of pixies and giants; the fairytale Jack the Giant Slayer, aka Jack and the Beanstalk, was born of Cornish lore. As always, Amos herself isn't afraid to take on so-called giants. "Devil's Bane" warns of men who would try to control women and has a sort of Led Zeppelin feel, with its witchy guitar and big drums, courtesy of Pearl Jam's Matt Chamberlain (who last worked with Amos on 2009's Midwinter Graces). "Ocean to Ocean" places blame for political insurrection—"There are those who never give a goddamn for anything that they're breaking/ There are those that only give a goddamn for the profit that they're making"—a faint guitar cry like an accusatory echo. Yet there's hope as she sings, "There is a way out of this" while uplifting strings echo her optimism. Ocean to Ocean contains surprises, too. Over the years, Amos's theatricality has evolved from Under the Pink's baroque stylings and Little Earthquakes' Kate Bush-inspired drama. But there are some nostalgic moments on this record. "Addition of Light Divided" is especially Bush-like, and melancholy ballad "Flowers Burn to Gold," comfortingly, feels like it could've been lifted from one of those old albums—with Amos' left-hand piano work as heavy as the physical feelings of mourning, while her right hand tries to pull up out of it. "I am fascinated when someone has gone through a tragedy, and how they work through their grief. That is where the gold is ..." Amos has said. "I'm going to meet you in the muck." For "Speaking With Trees," with its spritely piano and galloping drums, that means turning to nature for comfort. On "Swim to New York State" (a song of loss, driven by moody strings) she's still in the bargaining stage of grief: "I'd swim to New York State from the Cornish coast of England, for even just a day," she sings, searching for reconnection. "Birthday Baby" slinks along like a tango, celebrating resilience: "This year, you survived through it all/ A cosmic apocalypse, a stab to the heart." And "29 Years" is remarkably, powered by a looming undertow of bass and drums, along with a sort of reggae-rock guitar. "Spies," meanwhile, is as "poppy" a song as Amos has penned in years. Written to quell her daughter's nightmares and fear of bats, it's a "lullaby" set to a racing beat and busy, mischievous bass, with absurd imagery about "spies" who chase away night terrors: "Scary men dipped in mustard (English mixed with Dijon)/ Mrs. Crabby Apple/ Won't get custard/ Won't get crumble." It's playful—ready to be a great TV show theme—and totally suits her. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz