Cat Power—Chan Marshall—wanted to mark the moment in 1966 that "informs everything …  this precipice of time that changed music forever": Bob Dylan's "Royal Albert Hall Concert" (actually played at the Manchester Free Trade Hall), the one when he switched from acoustic to electric midway through—prompting an incensed folk purist to yell out "Judas!" Fifty-six years after that concert, Marshall delivered a sublime song-for-song re-creation of the set, at the actual Royal Albert Hall. "I'm not being Bob … I'm just recreating it, that's all. But not making it mine," she has said. Inevitably, though, the songs do become hers. It's evident right away, from "She Belongs to Me" (and shortly after, "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue"), the influence Dylan has long had on Cat Power's music. But with her husky voice, so like Nico's now and far from Dylan's youthful reediness, revealing traces of her Georgia upbringing ("She don't look baaaaack") and contrasting the clean acoustic guitar and shiny harmonica, she owns it. "Desolation Row" is a twelve-and-a-half minute marvel. The guitar is not blindingly bright like Charlie McCoy's flamenco flavor, but that works well with Marshall's more serious/less jaunty air here. Without aping Dylan, she hits his inflections, putting exuberant emphasis on the ends of lines ("And the good Samaritan! He's dressing!"). Her "Visions of Johanna" underscores the prettiness of the melody, while the way she sings the name "Jo-hanna" make it feel so much more exotic than it is. She gets playful with the familiar phrasing on the chorus of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and sings "Just Like a Woman" beautifully, offering a softer, less angular version of Dylan's classic. At 50, she was twice the age of Dylan when he recorded the song for Blonde on Blonde, and you can hear—feel—the extra tread on her heart. When electrified "Tell Me Momma" kicks in like the Wizard of Oz Technicolor moment, it's as thrilling as it's supposed to be, the first word of the titular line bitingly crisp each time. "I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)" plays up the soulful grooviness that always feels a little buried on Dylan's live recording, while "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down" expertly captures his wild-eyed edginess. Marshall's "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" is more elegant, even with its raw edges, than Dylan's young-man machismo. She does not recreate things down to the between-song patter but there is a moment, just before "Ballad of a Thin Man" (so slinky, so powerful), when someone yells out "Judas!"—and Marshall, serenely, responds, "Jesus." "I wasn't expecting the audience to recreate their part of the original show as well, but then I wanted to set the record straight—in a way, Dylan is a deity to all of us who write songs," she has said. And, as it did in 1966, closer "Like a Rolling Stone" sounds like liberation; maybe even like Marshall knows some part of this is hers now. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

In 2021, Bob Dylan was on the road for his Never-Ending Tour – his tours have been going by the same name since the late 80s. However, it ultimately came to an abrupt end due to a health crisis. Dylan started livestreaming the same year due to his inability to play in public, holding an intimate virtual concert filmed and broadcasted for just a few days. The performance is now known as the Shadow Kingdom, and is accessible to a large number of people despite remaining shrouded in mystery. Subtitled "The early songs of Bob Dylan", this album does not draw on the first albums of the indestructible folk-rock bard. Instead, he plays songs from the 70s and 80s. But the acoustic style, hovering between blues, folk and tipsy crooner songs, is from the time when Dylan made his debut.Mandolins, accordions, guitars, harmonicas, double bass, stories, and the exquisite voice that sings old songs that you can’t help but listen to and share. At 80 years of age, Dylan is completely at ease in this wooded and retro setting. The sound is acoustic, but there is still electricity in the air; the original rock'n'roll is never too far away. Recognisable anywhere, his instrument-like voice undulates around the melodies, before covering and transfroming them into pure dylanries, little pastoral epics. On Sierra's Theme, the unreleased instrumental that closes the album, we find ourselves humming like Dylan, almost as if we’d always known the song. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

Off the Wall was a massive success, spawning four Top Ten hits (two of them number ones), but nothing could have prepared Michael Jackson for Thriller. Nobody could have prepared anybody for the success of Thriller, since the magnitude of its success was simply unimaginable -- an album that sold 40 million copies in its initial chart run, with seven of its nine tracks reaching the Top Ten (for the record, the terrific "Baby Be Mine" and the pretty good ballad "The Lady in My Life" are not like the others). This was a record that had something for everybody, building on the basic blueprint of Off the Wall by adding harder funk, hard rock, softer ballads, and smoother soul -- expanding the approach to have something for every audience. That alone would have given the album a good shot at a huge audience, but it also arrived precisely when MTV was reaching its ascendancy, and Jackson helped the network by being not just its first superstar, but first black star as much as the network helped him. This all would have made it a success (and its success, in turn, served as a new standard for success), but it stayed on the charts, turning out singles, for nearly two years because it was really, really good. True, it wasn't as tight as Off the Wall -- and the ridiculous, late-night house-of-horrors title track is the prime culprit, arriving in the middle of the record and sucking out its momentum -- but those one or two cuts don't detract from a phenomenal set of music. It's calculated, to be sure, but the chutzpah of those calculations (before this, nobody would even have thought to bring in metal virtuoso Eddie Van Halen to play on a disco cut) is outdone by their success. This is where a song as gentle and lovely as "Human Nature" coexists comfortably with the tough, scared "Beat It," the sweet schmaltz of the Paul McCartney duet "The Girl Is Mine," and the frizzy funk of "P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)." And, although this is an undeniably fun record, the paranoia is already creeping in, manifesting itself in the record's two best songs: "Billie Jean," where a woman claims Michael is the father of her child, and the delirious "Wanna Be Startin' Something," the freshest funk on the album, but the most claustrophobic, scariest track Jackson ever recorded. These give the record its anchor and are part of the reason why the record is more than just a phenomenon. The other reason, of course, is that much of this is just simply great music.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

In four albums, Worrisome Heart (2008), My One And Only Thrill (2009), The Absence (2012) and Currency Of Man (2015), Melody Gardot has managed to sneak in between Diana Krall and Norah Jones to also find her place in the selective club of the female singers that are “a bit jazzy but not too much”, this oneiric cast that was so popular during the 50s, and in which she soon made the singularity of her very sensual voice resonate. A voice that she ceaselessly took touring to locations all over the world, and multiple times over at that. And so, there are enough recordings in the cellar to release a live album. However, live discs are rarely a must. There is often something missing, this small impalpable thing, that only those present that night will have kept inside of them… This Live In Europe from Melody Gardot is lucky to have kept, precisely, this “small thing”… The American has probably meticulously built it (apparently, she has listened to more than 300 recordings before making her decision!) by avoiding the true-false best of. “Someday, someone told me, ‘never look back, because there’s no way you’re going back’, she says. It’s nicely said, but if you don’t look back sometimes, it’s hard to see that time is on the verge of catching up to you. We all need to quickly look back into the rear-view mirror from time to time in order to adjust our trajectory. This disc is precisely that, the rear-view mirror of a 1963 Corvette, a postcard of our touring all over Europe. We spent most of our time on the road these last few years, and we’ve taken advantage of this trip to not only get around and get some fresh air but also to try, as much as possible, to get rid of the rules and create something exciting. I’ve been dreaming for years of releasing a live album like this one.” This desire can be felt in every moment of this disc comprised of titles recorded in Paris, Vienna, Bergen, Amsterdam, Frankfurt, Barcelona, Lisbon, Zurich and London. Whether she performs her hits Baby I'm A Fool and My One And Only Thrill or covers the classic Over The Rainbow, Melody Gardot offers up a different point of view, but it’s always an open performance. To help her in her introspective trip that is constantly shifting, she is surrounded by her impeccable musicians, discreet but decisive. Drummer Charles Staab, saxophonist Irwin Hall and bass player Sami Minaie are completely in tune with her singing, like some kind of thin hand that you take and only let go of after the last note. Finally, there is this album cover which will lead to extensive press coverage… or not. © MD/Qobuz

After releasing two "head" records during 1970 and 1971, Stevie Wonder expanded his compositional palette with 1972's Talking Book to include societal ills as well as tender love songs, and so recorded the first smash album of his career. What had been hinted at on the intriguing project Music of My Mind was here focused into a laser beam of tight songwriting, warm electronic arrangements, and ebullient performances -- altogether the most realistic vision of a musical personality ever put to wax, beginning with a disarmingly simple love song, "You Are the Sunshine of My Life" (but of course, it's only the composition that's simple). Wonder's not always singing a tender ballad here -- in fact, he flits from contentment to mistrust to promise to heartbreak within the course of the first four tracks -- but he never fails to render each song in the most vivid colors. In stark contrast to his early songs, which were clever but often relied on the Motown template of romantic metaphor, with Talking Book it became clear Wonder was beginning to speak his mind and use his personal history for material (just as Marvin Gaye had with the social protest of 1971's What's Going On). The lyrics became less convoluted, while the emotional power gained in intensity. "You and I" and the glorious closer "I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever)" subtly illustrate that the conception of love can be stronger than the reality, while "Tuesday Heartbreak" speaks simply but powerfully: "I wanna be with you when the nighttime comes/I wanna be with you till the daytime comes." Ironically, the biggest hit from Talking Book wasn't a love song at all; the funk landmark "Superstition" urges empowerment instead of hopelessness, set to a grooving beat that made it one of the biggest hits of his career. It's followed by "Big Brother," the first of his directly critical songs, excoriating politicians who posture to the underclass in order to gain the only thing they really need: votes. With Talking Book, Wonder also found a proper balance between making an album entirely by himself and benefiting from the talents of others. His wife Syreeta contributed two great lyrics, and Ray Parker, Jr. came by to record a guitar solo that brings together the lengthy jam "Maybe Your Baby." Two more guitar heroes, Jeff Beck and Buzzy Feton, appeared on "Lookin' for Another Pure Love," Beck's solo especially giving voice to the excruciating process of moving on from a broken relationship. Like no other Stevie Wonder LP before it, Talking Book is all of a piece, the first unified statement of his career. It's certainly an exercise in indulgence but, imitating life, it veers breathtakingly from love to heartbreak and back with barely a pause.© John Bush /TiVo

While Jenny Lewis's fifth album, Joy'All, was recorded with country producer-of-the-moment Dave Cobb in Nashville and features the singer wearing a spangled costume that belonged to Skeeter Davis on the cover, it's a stretch to say the Nudie suit-loving Lewis has gone country. In truth, she's as country as she's always been—it's more of a vibe than a defining genre for her, in the way that Stevie Nicks brought a country flair to Fleetwood Mac or that '70s Laurel Canyon loved a cosmic steel guitar. "Apples and Oranges" magically feels like some lost Motown country record. Ballad "Essence of Life," with Jon Brion's vibraphone adding a note of wistfulness, recalls Dottie West, who doesn't get enough love now in Nashville. And "Giddy Up" is no high-octane, Shania-style banger; Lewis is a breathy disco diva singing about the search for true love at 47 over a cool jazz strut: "Take a chance/ On a little romance/ We're both adults." She has said this is a record about relationships—with others but, ultimately, herself. Set to a groove of warm John McVie–style bass, courtesy of regular Cobb contributor Brian Allen, "Psychos" paints a portrait of middle-age dating and getting ghosted by guys you maybe shouldn't be bothering with anyway. Meanwhile, yacht rock-ish "Cherry Baby" keeps the "Giddy Up" mood going as Lewis admits: "'Cause I fall in love/ Too easy, too easy/ With anyone/ Who touches me, fucks with me … Cherry, baby/ Will you be mine?" "Puppy and a Truck" is classic Lewis, with the singer in her own very specific midlife crisis. "I don't got no kids/ I don't got no roots/ I'm an orphan," she sings, confessing, "My forties are kicking my ass/ And handing them to me in a margarita glass …  So I'm 44 in 2020 and thank god I saved up some money." But that's not all she did: "Like a shot of good luck/ I got a puppy and truck." That easy-rolling number, like many others here, features excellently soulful backing vocals by Jess Wolf of Lucius. (It should be noted that Lewis has a particular talent for choosing vocalists who complement her lead, going back to the Watson Twins on 2006's Rabbit Fur Coat.) Fun "Love Feel" namechecks country outlaws and bears a little Miranda Lambert sass and a little of the '50s greaser doll appeal Lewis previously visited on I'm Having Fun Now from Jenny and Johnny, her duo with Johnathan Rice. And the lively closer "Chain of Tears" does, in fact, summon up a Skeeter-style spoken part and even evokes the break-up pain of the late singer's "End of the World," with Lewis lamenting, "I was hoping there was some pill I could take … Some procedure I could undertake/ To have your memory erased." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Singing standards, trying to bring something different to or imprint your style on a tune made famous by Sinatra, Garland or Holiday, is a brave venture in the 21st century. The eclectic and unpredictable Rickie Lee Jones, has also always been a sneakily talented, genre-spanning songwriter who approaches covers with the same determination she brings to her own songs. Jones has carefully built a proud though underappreciated career that now gives her the gravitas to have a little fun on the aptly named Pieces of Treasure. As she did for a selection of rock and pop covers on 2019's Kicks, Jones leans into well-known (and well-worn) pop music standards like Jimmy McHugh's' bouncy "Sunny Side of the Street" or Kurt Weill's enchanting ode to age, "September Song." Rather than drowning these chestnuts in sentimentality, she works her nimble vocal way at leisurely tempos that encourage finely detailed renditions, the kind she's always been fabulous at finding. The opener "Just in Time" is an on- target success as is her easy, swinging run through of George and Ira Gershwin's "They Can' Take That Away From Me" where just a bit of scatting is added. While the late Jimmy Scott will always own the Jimmy Van Heusen/Sammy Cohen knockout "All The Way," Jones gives her all here. Set against just an acoustic guitar, she earnestly wends her way through a warm version of "On the Sunny Side of the Street" in which the last note is held for more than a beat. Working again with Russ Titelman who, along with Lenny Waronker, produced her 1979 debut album, Jones says this album made her feel young again and was like a reunion with herself.  Titelman has said of Pieces of Treasure's sessions, "I adore the young Rickie Lee, but I love even more the old dame I watched pour her heart out every time she got in front of a microphone." Recorded with the very spare accompaniment of mostly just pianist Rob Mounsey, with appearances by guitarist Russell Malone and vibraphonist Mike Mainieri, Pieces of Treasure was tracked in New York City at Bass Hit Studio, whose owner Dave Darlington was one of four engineers, and also mixed the album.) As befits the project, Jones is close-mic'd and the instrumentalists are tastefully kept in the background. Rickie Lee Jones sounds reinvigorated by this trip down Tin Pan Alley. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

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

"The chemistry between that group was intense -- even their longest, most meandering jams are worth savoring for one reason or another."© TiVo

Proving that she's both fearless and capable of almost anything musically, Dolly Parton has taken her induction in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame seriously and made a rock album built from a slew of favorite mainstream covers and several originals she wrote for the occasion. The respect she commands as a worldwide celebrity is reflected by the massive guest list whose vocal tracks were recorded elsewhere and mixed together in Nashville by producer Kent Wells and a veritable horde of engineers. Vocalists who make an appearance on the songs that they originally made famous include Sting ("Every Breath You Take"), Steve Perry ("Open Arms"), Elton John ("Don't Let the Sun Go Down"), Debbie Harry ("Heart of Glass"), and Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr ("Let It Be"). The voice of Lynyrd Skynyrd lead vocalist Ronnie Van Zant returns from the grave to sing a verse and duet on the choruses in the epic and appropriate closer, "Free Bird."  While Parton could have allowed a smile to peak out here or there on this massive undertaking, she plays it straight throughout.  Not surprisingly, women receive commendable attention as songwriters and guest players with performances by Ann Wilson, Parton's goddaughter Miley Cyrus, Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, Lizzo and others. There are also flashes where Parton stops playing rock star. Her original "World on Fire" is a plea for unity and common sense to will out: "Now tell me what is truth/ Have we all lost sight/ Of common decency/ Of the wrong and right/ How do we heal this great divide/ Do we care enough to try?" What makes these 30 tracks work is that no one can sell it quite like Parton. While her voice strains on some  numbers—she's always been more of a careful interpreter than a furious belter—she's full of old pro wiles and is the soul of authenticity throughout; she gives her all to every number. In the rousing "(I Can't Get No) "Satisfaction" with P!nk and Brandy Carlile, Parton's between-line exhortations are heartfelt and spot on. Rather than arty re-interpretations or an empty marketing concept, this is an abundance of what Parton does best: feel the songs she's singing.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

After a prolific tear through the mid-'80s, the Cocteau Twins slowed down near the decade's end. Having released 5 albums and 8 standalone EPs between 1982 and 1986, they took an unheard-of two years to release Blue Bell Knoll, their first on U.S. major label Capitol Records, after which ... silence. There was no tour. No promo jaunt. Just a few magazine features and, if you were lucky to catch it on 120 Minutes, a music video featuring the group and their ever-faithful reel-to-reel machine. News reports surfaced that Elizabeth Fraser and Robin Guthrie had a baby, and that Simon Raymonde's father had died. Whispers circulated that Guthrie's cocaine habit was out of hand and that, despite the new baby, he and Fraser's relationship was in tatters. It would not have been surprising if the next thing the public heard from the Cocteau Twins was an announcement of their breakup. Instead, in September 1990, they released Heaven or Las Vegas, an album that could easily stand as the best work in their entire catalog. (4AD label head Ivo Watts-Russell called it "a perfect record," though that didn't stop him from dropping the band a month after its release, due to irreconcilable personality differences.) Despite whatever turmoil and crisis was consuming the band at the time—and by all accounts, there was more than plenty—Heaven or Las Vegas shines and shimmers with a sense of emotional resonance and clarity that had previously never been fully realized on a Cocteau’s release. The pop songs here–"Iceblink Luck," "Fotzepolitic," the title track–are explosively joyful and irresistibly catchy. Guthrie's intricate, gossamer guitar work glides atop sturdy, forceful beats anchored by Raymonde's liquid basslines and Fraser's voice at its most expressive and expansive (and nearly intelligible). Meanwhile, midtempo, introspective tracks like "Fifty-Fifty Clown" and "I Wear Your Ring" and, especially, the heart-wrenching beauty of the album's final three tracks ("Wolf in the Breast," "Road, River and Rail," and "Frou-Frou Foxes in Midsummer Fires") traffic in an emotional purity that's as close to plain spoken as the group had ever been. And while the precise lyrical components are still quite cryptic, the impact is inarguable. Heaven or Las Vegas is pure flex on behalf of the Cocteau Twins, showing off everything they're capable of doing, all at once, and at the highest level. It would be a remarkable piece of art by any group, but for one that was literally falling apart at the time, it's a dizzying accomplishment. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Unable to perform his 2021 spring tour at the Royal Albert Hall due to COVID-19 restrictions, Eric Clapton, a staunch defender of free access to his concerts, is playing an intimate show at Cowdray House, a plush mansion in England’s Sussex countryside. Spectators? Only one. In the balcony, his wife Melia McEnery, for whom the work is titled, in the form of a declaration of love: The Lady In The Balcony: Lockdown Sessions. But anyone else can watch too, since the whole thing was captured by Russ Titelman and even screened in the cinema. This is how the maestro responds to the harshness of the current situation: by offering moments of grace. With his musicians Chris Stainton (keyboards), Nathan East (bass) and Steve Gadd (drums), Clapton plays a whole range of classic blues songs from his discography: Key To Highway by Big Bill Bonzy, his cover of JJ Cale's After Midnight, Man of the World and Black Magic Woman written in the early days of Fleetwood Mac by Peter Green, whom Clapton salutes in passing, or the vintages Layla or Tears In Heaven. The old friends end on electric with Muddy Waters' brilliant Long Distance Call and Got My Mojo interspersed with Bad Boy from Clapton's first album. With the unlikely acoustics offered by the venue and a particular attention to the impeccable sound recording, Slowhand goes on a journey, in a peaceful mood, among friends. A Dantean era calls for an exceptional concert. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

Prince designed Purple Rain as the project that would make him a superstar, and, surprisingly, that is exactly what happened. Simultaneously more focused and ambitious than any of his previous records, Purple Rain finds Prince consolidating his funk and R&B roots while moving boldly into pop, rock, and heavy metal with nine superbly crafted songs. Even its best-known songs don't tread conventional territory: the bass-less "When Doves Cry" is an eerie, spare neo-psychedelic masterpiece; "Let's Go Crazy" is a furious blend of metallic guitars, Stonesy riffs, and a hard funk backbeat; the anthemic title track is a majestic ballad filled with brilliant guitar flourishes. Although Prince's songwriting is at a peak, the presence of the Revolution pulls the music into sharper focus, giving it a tougher, more aggressive edge. And, with the guidance of Wendy and Lisa, Prince pushed heavily into psychedelia, adding swirling strings to the dreamy "Take Me With U" and the hard rock of "Baby I'm a Star." Even with all of his new, but uncompromising, forays into pop, Prince hasn't abandoned funk, and the robotic jam of "Computer Blue" and the menacing grind of "Darling Nikki" are among his finest songs. Taken together, all of the stylistic experiments add up to a stunning statement of purpose that remains one of the most exciting rock & roll albums ever recorded.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

A portrait of the artist as a young man, The Nightfly is a wonderfully evocative reminiscence of Kennedy-era American life; in the liner notes, Donald Fagen describes the songs as representative of the kinds of fantasies he entertained as an adolescent during the late '50s/early '60s, and he conveys the tenor of the times with some of his most personal and least obtuse material to date. Continuing in the smooth pop-jazz mode favored on the final Steely Dan records, The Nightfly is lush and shimmering, produced with cinematic flair by Gary Katz; romanticized but never sentimental, the songs are slices of suburbanite soap opera, tales of space-age hopes (the hit "I.G.Y.") and Cold War fears (the wonderful "The New Frontier," a memoir of fallout-shelter love) crafted with impeccable style and sophistication.© Jason Ankeny /TiVo

In covering the Beatles, jazz pianist Brad Mehldau chose to focus on the "strangeness" of the band's music. But as he explains in the liner notes, it's also the "universality," present in parallel to strangeness, that makes it so inviting and influential; the combination of the two—which may also be the secret to the band's artistic immortality—is, according to Mehldau, what underpins his approach to this beautifully realized project. Filmed and recorded live in front of an audience at the Philharmonie de Paris, this session benefits from intelligently placed microphones and minimal applause. It was edited by Camille Grateau, mixed by Nicolas Poitrenaud, and mastered in the U.S. by Greg Calbi at Sterling Sound. Though cries of "sellout" from jazz purists are sure-to-come, listeners will find many insights into Mehldau's playing and the band's utterly original creative universe. Opening with an unbroken suite of three tunes in their entirety ("I Am The Walrus," "Your Mother Should Know and "I Saw Her Standing There"—the last of which he plays in barrelhouse piano style), it's very clear that Mehldau brought immense thought, passion and especially respect for the band's prismatic genius to this project. He genuinely feels this music, most of which was composed on piano. Sticking relatively close to the familiar melodies, Mehldau embroiders them with a flow of ideas and chordal tangents. His improvisations never venture too far out, however, nor are they ever disconnected from any song's basic emotional underpinning. As is to be expected, some interpretations are more successful than others. "Here, There and Everywhere," played mostly in the piano's highest registers, stretches and crystallizes but abruptly stops, apparently out of discovery. In other cases, Mehldau uncovers rich new veins of inspiration: He makes a high energy mini concerto out of the usually triumphant "Maxwell's Silver Hammer," improvising high notes, adding moody journeys of improvisation, and at times snapping back into choruses where he flashes ornate New Orleans piano professor bravado. Best of all, at least for sentimentalists, is the pianist—who's often accused of a certain detachment and coldness in his playing—lingering over lush Paul McCartney songs like "Golden Slumbers" and "For No One," raising their melodic purity to new heights of poignancy. A rambunctious, joyous success on every level. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

J.J. Cale was the embodiment of cool blues. With his atypical blend of rock, folk, country, blues and jazz, he was one of the most influential figures in rock'n' roll. Worshipped by Clapton, the Cocaine writer who spent most of his time in a mobile home remains the essence of a laid-back and relaxed musical style. For his fans, Stay Around is a gift from heaven. This posthumous record from April 2019 brings together fifteen unreleased songs mixed and produced by Cale himself and compiled by his widow, Christine Lakeland, and his old collaborator and manager Mike Kappus. "I wanted to find stuff that was completely unheard to max-out the ‘Cale factor'," says Lakeland, "using as much that came from John’s ears and fingers and his choices as I could, so I stuck to John’s mixes. You can make things so sterile that you take the human feel out. But John left a lot of that human feel in. He left so much room for interpretation.” Obviously, all these gems - from the stripped back Oh My My My to the more elaborate Chasing You - do not change anything at all about what we knew and loved about this king of cool. The quality of Stay Around, which never sounds slap-dash, proves that the man took every second of his art seriously. And as always with him, we come out of this posthumous album with the feeling of having fully lived a human and warm encounter. A sincere and engaging experience, connected to the soul and the gut. Marc Zisman/Qobuz