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

Bridge Over Troubled Water was one of the biggest-selling albums of its decade, and it hasn't fallen too far down on the list in years since. Apart from the gospel-flavored title track, which took some evolution to get to what it finally became, however, much of Bridge Over Troubled Water also constitutes a stepping back from the music that Simon & Garfunkel had made on Bookends -- this was mostly because the creative partnership that had formed the body and the motivation for the duo's four prior albums literally consumed itself in the making of Bridge Over Troubled Water. The overall effect was perhaps the most delicately textured album to close out the 1960s from any major rock act. Bridge Over Troubled Water, at its most ambitious and bold, on its title track, was a quietly reassuring album; at other times, it was personal yet soothing; and at other times, it was just plain fun. The public in 1970 -- a very unsettled time politically, socially, and culturally -- embraced it; and whatever mood they captured, the songs matched the standard of craftsmanship that had been established on the duo's two prior albums. Between the record's overall quality and its four hits, the album held the number one position for two and a half months and spent years on the charts, racking up sales in excess of five million copies. The irony was that for all of the record's and the music's appeal, the duo's partnership ended in the course of creating and completing the album.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

Four years after the release of her previous album -- an eternity in her discography -- Ariana Grande made a graceful return to the spotlight with her revealing seventh set, Eternal Sunshine. Mostly a response to the headline-grabbing details of her relationships, as usual, the conceptual journey takes listeners through the dissolution of one union (which ended in divorce) and the slow healing that was aided along by the sparks of another (which generated no small amount of controversy). The bulk of the lyrics are a direct reference to the drama, with Grande taking the high road with poise and class, while leaning into any negative perceptions with a wink and some sass. Those tabloid-fodder moments (like "The Boy Is Mine" and "True Story") add some fuel to the flames; however, Grande makes a concerted effort to maintain focus on personal growth through introspection on tracks like the reflective "I Wish I Hated You" and "Don't Wanna Break Up Again," which humanize her into an everywoman promoting healthy self-care tactics like self-soothing and therapy. For those who had been expecting a full-on, house-influenced raver, an album packed with "Yes, And?" style bops won't be found here. Instead, Grande strikes a balance between the warm, lush R&B tones of Positions and Thank U, Next with the lighter, feel-good fare found on Sweetener. "Yes, And?" is indeed the energetic centerpiece of this album, a blissful dose of dancefloor magic that follows the "Express Yourself"/"Born This Way" lineage of ballroom-inspired empowerment anthems. Though not as buoyant, the shimmering "We Can't Be Friends (Wait for Your Love)" is a Robyn-esque slice of neon synths, twinkling production, and throbbing groove, which boosts the bittersweet vulnerability of her lyrics, while the sparkling kiss-off "Bye" keeps the disco revival train chugging along as Grande dances her woes away. Beyond that, Eternal Sunshine sticks close to impeccably produced midtempo songs that highlight her vocal range and the mountain of thoughts she has to get off her chest at such a pivotal stage in her life. It's anything but boring; rather, these tracks hypnotize (the reawakening of "Supernatural"), comfort ("Eternal Sunshine"), and nourish the soul like the titular rays of light ("Imperfect for You"). Closing with the horn-swelled "Ordinary Things," Grande calls on her grandmother Marjorie for some sweet, sage advice about making a relationship last, a touching bit of wisdom to frame the young artist's very adult breakup and the healing, however messy, that followed. After the late-2010s blitz that saw her conquering the charts on an annual basis with output of steadily decreasing quality, the years spent re-centering and growing up were clearly fruitful, resulting in one of her strongest, most cohesive efforts to date. Eternal Sunshine is Grande in peak form, a magical maturation that is elevated, resilient, and confidently restrained.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Another fine Webster release on Verve that sees the tenor great once again backed by the deluxe Oscar Peterson Trio. In keeping with the high standard of their Soulville collaboration of two years prior, Webster and the trio -- Peterson is joined by bassist Ray Brown and drummer Ed Thigpen -- use this 1959 date to conduct a clinic in ballad playing. And while Soulville certainly ranks as one of the tenor saxophonist's best discs, the Ben Webster Meets Oscar Peterson set gets even higher marks for its almost transcendent marriage of after-hours elegance and effortless mid-tempo swing -- none of Webster's boogie-woogie piano work to break up the mood here. Besides reinvigorating such lithe strollers as "Bye Bye Blackbird" (nice bass work by Brown here) and "This Can't Be Love," Webster and company achieve classic status for their interpretation of the Sinatra gem "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning." And to reassure Peterson fans worried about scant solo time for their hero, the pianist lays down a healthy number of extended runs, unobtrusively shadowing Webster's vaporous tone and supple phrasing along the way. Not only a definite first-disc choice for Webster newcomers, but one of the jazz legend's all-time great records.© Stephen Cook /TiVo

Recorded at Wally Heider's Studio III in Los Angeles and first released 29 May, 1969 on Atlantic Records, this album was remastered in 2012 and reissued in Hi-Res. This Crosby, Stills & Nash self-titled debut album is one of the true masterpieces of the rock'n'roll canon. 

"[A] shining demonstration of the aptitude that made Monét a sought after collaborator, but here, in the album’s comfy old-school soul and sharp modern edge, she preserves something fresh and unique for herself."© TiVo

If you were Frank Sinatra's daughter and wanted a career in music, how would you go about stepping out of your father's shadow? After a couple of cutesy singles cut with the producer behind Annette Funicello records, Nancy Sinatra, Frank's oldest child found her groove as the kind of female badass rebel that her father likely adored: fashion influencer who brought miniskirts from Carnaby Street to America's Main Street; daring agitator who shared a rare interracial kiss with dad's pal Sammy Davis Jr. on national TV; Playboy cover star at age 54. It's the attitude and image that's given her career a lasting aura and made it influential for artists as diverse as Primal Scream, Morrissey and Lana Del Rey who has modestly referred to herself as a "Gangster Nancy Sinatra." As this well-curated compilation proves, Sinatra's most influential music comes from her '60s collaboration with oddball pop chameleon Lee Hazlewood. Although the pair's vaguely sensual duet on the still puzzling, hippie-cowboy epic, "Some Velvet Morning," earned them artistic credibility, the crowning achievement of their partnership and Sinatra's calling card was 1965's "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'"—a Hazlewood original that he originally intended to sing. Sinatra convinced him it needed a women's voice to turn it from a tale of spousal abuse to one of female empowerment. Her instincts proved prescient and her deadpan delivery and Hazlewood's snappy production style built around an unforgettable bass line birthed a defiant feminist '60s anthem. Other Sinatra/Hazlewood numbers included here are the fuzz guitar march, "Lightning's Girls," a tremolo-guitar led version of "Bang Bang" (Cher's first million selling single), and duets that charted with Hazlewood: "Summer Wine," "Jackson." The ace card in the Sinatra/Hazlewood union was using Los Angeles studio vets the Wrecking Crew as the backing band. With pros like Hal Blaine on drums, Al Casey, Glen Campbell and Larry Carlton on guitar and Carol Kaye on bass, it's all well-recorded and beautifully mixed music, solid and stylish, and brimming with a confident Angelino brand of white pop soul. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

The Cars' 1978 self-titled debut, issued on the Elektra label, is a genuine rock masterpiece. The band jokingly referred to the album as their "true greatest-hits album," but it's no exaggeration -- all nine tracks are new wave/rock classics, still in rotation on rock radio. Whereas most bands of the late '70s embraced either punk/new wave or hard rock, the Cars were one of the first bands to do the unthinkable -- merge the two styles together. Add to it bandleader/songwriter Ric Ocasek's supreme pop sensibilities, and you had an album that appealed to new wavers, rockers, and Top 40 fans. One of the most popular new wave songs ever, "Just What I Needed," is an obvious highlight, as are such familiar hits as "Good Times Roll," "My Best Friend's Girl," and "You're All I've Got Tonight." But like most consummate rock albums, the lesser-known compositions are just as exhilarating: "Don't Cha Stop," "Bye Bye Love," "All Mixed Up," and "Moving in Stereo," the latter featured as an instrumental during a steamy scene in the popular movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High. With flawless performances, songwriting, and production (courtesy of Queen alumni Roy Thomas Baker), the Cars' debut remains one of rock's all-time classics.© Greg Prato /TiVo

It's such a joy when artists continue to explore new territory. On her addictively strange, loop-based, dubby, and intentionally blown-out second solo record for Matador, the multimedia artist, Body/Head co-founder, and Sonic Youth's trailblazing bassist, vocalist, and songwriter finds new levels of sonic digital dirt to explore. Gordon's already made distinctive music outside of the alternative rock/improv bubble of her peers, notably on 2019's No Home Record, a collaboration with producer Justin Raisen (Lil Yachty, Charli XCX), who she notably met while renting an Airbnb or through a restaurant encounter with her brother, depending on the source.Where No Home Record sometimes sounded like it was trying too hard to catch up with the times, all of the choices made on The Collective (also made with Raisen) are solid, syncretic choices, even when the beats and loops are cut-up, distorted, and haphazard. It's nasty and noisy and smart as hell. With its cover art blurrily depicting a pair of hands caressing a cellphone, it's clear these songs were made in the present. "I'm a Man" is hilarious and should be first on your next mixtape. We're reminded at times of the delightfully noisy record the members of Panasonic made with the vocalist from Suicide as Vainio / Väisänen / Vega.With its embrace of new technology and cutting-edge sounds from current hip-hop and experimental music, it's hard not to be reminded of artist Cindy Sherman's current digital collage work. Gordon shows fierce strength shifting styles, engaging with the most contemporary culture, and messing about with new tools.  © Mike McGonigal/Qobuz

If you're a fan of Grandaddy, you know not to hold your breath. In 2000, The Sophtware Slump—a prescient, lo-fi forecast of humanity's problems with technology—earned Jason Lytle's Modesto, California, band a well-deserved spotlight. But they split up in 2006, months before the release of Just Like the Fambly Cat, over financial frustrations. Grandaddy reunited in 2017 for Last Place, a lyrical account of Lytle's divorce, then stopped touring and recording after the death of longtime bassist Kevin Garcia. Now Grandaddy is back, but only time will tell if it's a fleeting return. Blu Wav's title is a mash-up of bluegrass and new wave, though that doesn't really capture the album's vibe. Inspired by listening to Patti Page's "Tennessee Waltz" while driving across the Nevada desert, Lytle determined to borrow the sweet sway of bluegrass waltz and cocoon it in synth and fuzzy electronics. Waltz time is prominent on the record, as is pedal steel—to poignant effect on "Long As I'm Not the One," which reaches for moments of pomp majesty, and "You're Going to Be Fine and I'm Going to Hell," an alt-country meditation that opens up to a lush ELO-esque dreamscape. Loss and loneliness, constant companions in Lytle's music, are all over the place. "Ducky, Boris and Dart" is a plush farewell. "On a Train or a Bus" is a dreamy, sad-bastard ballad about love gone away. "Jukebox App," an easy-amble waltz, finds Lytle deliriously wallowing in misery and threatening to play "all our songs" after spotting an ex with a new guy. "Silhouette of the flame that died/ Your hair lit up by that neon light/ You and some dude knocking back the shots/ While I'm out here in the parking lot," he sighs/sings, fuzzed-out synth plucking the heartstrings. Paired with steel guitar, "Watercooler" proves Lytle can craft a heart-wrenched melody with all the pop aspirations and gimlet-eyed lyrics of Fountains of Wayne. "And you cry in the bathroom stall," he sets the scene, "Cuz I won't call although I know you hurt." ("Most of my relationships have involved girls who worked in office settings," Lytle has said. "This song is about the end of one, or perhaps a few, of those relationships.) When it all gets to be too much, he returns to the honey-sweet promise of "Cabin In My Mind": "There's a safe and loving glow/ Beyond the curve where you once were." There are several lovely sketches of songs—fleeting thoughts—including spacey "Let's Put This Pinto on the Moon" and satisfying outro "Blu Wav Buh Bye," that leave you wanting more. But as Lytle sings on the beautiful, forward-looking "Nothin' To Lose," "Cut and run toward the sun/ Our work here's done." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Joe Cocker's debut album holds up extraordinarily well across four decades, the singer's performance bolstered by some very sharp playing, not only by his established sideman/collaborator Chris Stainton, but also some top-notch session musicians, among them drummer Clem Cattini, Steve Winwood on organ, and guitarists Jimmy Page and Albert Lee, all sitting in. It's Cocker's voice, a soulful rasp of an instrument backed up by Madeline Bell, Sunny Weetman and Rossetta Hightower that carries this album and makes "Change in Louise," "Feeling Alright," "Just Like a Woman," "I Shall Be Released," and even "Bye Bye Blackbird" into profound listening experiences. But the surprises in the arrangements, tempo, and approaches taken help make this an exceptional album. Tracks like "Just Like a Woman," with its soaring gospel organ above a lean textured acoustic and light electric accompaniment, and the guitar-dominated rendition of "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" -- the formal debut of the Grease Band on record -- all help make this an exceptional listening experience. The 1999 A&M reissue not only includes new notes and audiophile-quality sound, but also a pair of bonus tracks, the previously unanthologized B-sides "The New Age of Lily" and "Something Coming On," deserved better than the obscurity in which they previously dwelt.© Bruce Eder /TiVo