Although it picks up a thread left hanging from - (subtract), which it follows by a mere matter of months, Autumn Variations represents a major break from tradition for Ed Sheeran in some important ways. The first of his albums to not follow a mathematical scheme in its title, Autumn Variations is also the first not to be released through a major label -- he put it out on his own imprint, Gingerbread Man -- and it also was made with one main collaborator, Aaron Dessner of the National. Many of these fresh starts are felt more than heard on Autumn Variations, which spends its 14 tracks in sepia-toned reflection. Sheeran's ruminations are inspired by the plights of his friends and family, a lyrical distance that amounts to a distinction without much difference; his reflections here feel as earnest as the personal musings that fueled -. Similarly, the vibe of Autumn Variations doesn't feel markedly distinct from -. Perhaps Dessner helps Sheeran keep his ebullience subdued -- "Amazing" and "Plastic Bag" come to the precipice of unfettered pop, then pull back -- but he mainly allows Sheeran to follow his introspective instincts, resulting in an album that sustains a mellow, melancholy mood without quite distinguishing itself as a collection of individual songs. Then again, that's kind of the point of the album: it's a pensive soundtrack for a specific season, nothing more and nothing less.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Writing songs and bringing them to life is usually a two-person job. While hardcore Bob Dylan fans will argue he's the best singer of his songs, many others, including Bettye LaVette, have sung them better. The gritty soul vocalist has built a career interpreting other songwriters and now, after giving her all to collections of tunes by Dylan and the various artists of the British Invasion, LaVette has turned her interpretive gifts to the work of Randall Bramblett. Bramblett had a pair of unjustly ignored solo records in the '70s, but has been on something of a comeback since hooking up with New West records in the early aughts. Comebacks have also become LaVette's specialty. Since cutting her first record in 1962 (which made it onto the R&B charts) at age 16, LaVette has toured with James Brown, made a great record in Muscle Shoals that was shelved for over 35 years, and even had a disco hit. LaVette! was produced by Jay-Vee Records co-founder Steve Jordan (currently Charlie Watts' replacement in the Rolling Stones), who, along with bassist Pino Palladino, anchors a backing band of guitarists Christopher Bruce and Larry Campbell, and keyboardist L. Leon Pendarvis; the album also features an all-assemblage that includes John Mayer, Steve Winwood, Ray Parker, J., James Carter, Jon Batiste and Pedrito Martinez. The basic tracks were recorded at New York City's Electric Lady Studios, with a smattering of additional recordings done elsewhere. (LaVette's vocals were captured in seven other studios.) All this firepower has been put to good use, as LaVette has again turned in another bravura vocal performance.  Whatever she's lost vocally—which truthfully isn't a whole lot—the 77-year-old has gained in brassiness and a deepened understanding of how a song can make people tick. "Mess About It" from Bramblett's 2008 album Now It's Tomorrow falls into a monster groove. The ballad "I'm Not Gonna Waste My Love," benefits from a sensitive pedal steel part by Larry Campbell and the strutting "Don't Get Me Started" plays to LaVette's strengths as a vocalist who will always tell it like it is. "Lazy (And I Know It)" is a talky, slow rant that will let her catch her breath during live performances and lower her no-nonsense attitude by laughing at herself and reveling in its honesty. Another late career triumph.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

On Be Yourself Tonight, Eurythmics' most commercially successful and hit-laden album, the duo meticulously blended the new wave electronic elements that dominated their previous sets with the harder straight-edged rock and soul that would dominate later sets to come up with a near-perfect pop album. This disc scored no less than four hit singles and kept them a mainstay on MTV's play lists during the channel's heyday. Fusing pop, soul, rock, electronic beats, and even gospel, this is arguably the duo's finest moment. The first hit, "Would I Lie to You," is a straight-forward rocker, complete with great guitar licks, a soulful horn section, and Annie Lennox sounding as vicious and vivacious as ever. The second single, which was a huge chart topper in Europe, "There Must Be an Angel," is nothing short of shimmering beauty, with Lennox providing truly angelic vocals and Stevie Wonder lending an enchanting harmonica solo. Aretha Franklin lends her powerhouse pipes for the duet "Sisters Are Doin' It for Themselves," which has gone on to become an immortal feminist anthem. From the soulful electronic beats (a rarity) in "It's Alright (Baby's Coming Back)" to the beauty of the Elvis Costello duet "Adrian" to the pain and longing of the sorrowful rocker "Better to Have Lost in Love (Than Never to Have Loved at All)," this album runs a wide array of musical styles, each song standing tall on its own two feet. This disc is, without a doubt, one of the best rock/pop albums from the 1980s and one of the grandest, most creative albums delivered by the ever-appealing and innovative duo of Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart. A true classic.© Jose Promis /TiVo

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

There are so many garage rock/dance-rock tunes perfectly stylized and glamorous for the pop kids in the city and in the suburbs of new-millennium America. What's nice about these the bands producing these songs is how they strive so desperately to individualize themselves. On a commercial level, they do quite well in delivering catchy pop hooks. When it comes to having actual talent, a select few actually do possess attention-worthy integrity. But there are others who don't, and they disappear from the American consciousness after a brief flirtation with success. Such theories, however, are left up to the individual music fan, so let's put that aside for a moment to experience the decadent pop world of the Killers. The Las Vegas foursome introduce a perfectly tailored new wave-induced art rock sound on their debut, Hot Fuss. They wooed MTV audiences and modern rock followers with the success of "Somebody Told Me" during summer 2004. This chunky-riffed single loaded with androgynous mystery and a dalliance with new romantic energy captures the infectious delivery of the Killers as a band. Vocalist/keyboardist Brandon Flowers does his best Simon LeBon imitation; the sex appeal and the boyish charm are perfectly in place as the rest of the band accents his rich, red-hotness just so. "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine" and "Mr. Brightside" are equally as foxy as the album's first single, affirming that a formula is indeed in motion. It's hard to deny the sparkle of Depeche Mode beats and the sensual allure of Duran Duran. After 25 years, those sounds still hold up; by 2004, however, it's an incredible task to pull this kind of thing off without selling yourself to the tastes of the masses. Interpol and the Walkmen have pulled it off; Franz Ferdinand and Hot Hot Heat have potential. The difference with the Killers is that the dynamic doesn't firmly hold together. The gospel/rock jaunt of "All These Things That I've Done" doesn't quit fit around the Cure-inspired synth reveries of "Everything Will Be Alright" and "Believe Me Natalie." "Midnight Show," as much as it plucks from Duran Duran's "Planet Earth" and "Is There Something I Should Know?," does show promise for the Killers. Hot Fuss came at the right time because the pop kids needed something to savor the summer with, and "Somebody Told Me" served that purpose. Now pull out your Duran Duran records and dance like no one is watching. © MacKenzie Wilson /TiVo

Ariana Grande took her first tentative steps into adulthood with My Everything, the 2014 album that tempered her retro-diva stance with modern R&B. Released two years later, Dangerous Woman consolidates this soulful shift while offering a snazzier, sophisticated spin on the '90s pop that provides the foundation of Grande's music. Much of the latter comes from a fruitful partnership with producer Max Martin and his colleague Ilya, a team responsible for over half of the standard album's tracks (they also have their hands in several of the deluxe edition's bonus cuts). Tommy Brown and Mr. Franks are the other chief collaborators here, shepherding many of the cuts with a heavier R&B influence -- the stuttering "Let Me Love You," featuring a verse from Lil Wayne, the slow-burning torch of "Leave Me Lonely" -- but their productions aren't far removed from the Martin/Ilya cuts. "Everyday," a heavy thrumming jam featuring Future, is helmed by Ilya alone and the Rihanna-copping "Side to Side" bears a Martin credit. What all the producers do is keep the focus on the individual track, carving it into a seamless sculpture of rhythm and melody where Grande winds up as the accent to the song. Restraint serves her well: there are times she lets go with a full-throated roar, but she spends most of Dangerous Woman at a simmer that reinforces the sultry seduction of the title. A fair chunk of the album is devoted to cinematic ballads, which makes the bright blasts of disco -- "Be Alright," "Greedy" -- so alluring, but the entire record benefits from this single-minded concentration. Track by track, Dangerous Woman has sly, subtle distinctions -- a little bit of torch gives way to some heavy hip-hop only to have frothy pop surface again -- and while some of these cuts work better than others, the range is impressive, as is Grande's measured, assured performance.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Although it picks up a thread left hanging from - (subtract), which it follows by a mere matter of months, Autumn Variations represents a major break from tradition for Ed Sheeran in some important ways. The first of his albums to not follow a mathematical scheme in its title, Autumn Variations is also the first not to be released through a major label -- he put it out on his own imprint, Gingerbread Man -- and it also was made with one main collaborator, Aaron Dessner of the National. Many of these fresh starts are felt more than heard on Autumn Variations, which spends its 14 tracks in sepia-toned reflection. Sheeran's ruminations are inspired by the plights of his friends and family, a lyrical distance that amounts to a distinction without much difference; his reflections here feel as earnest as the personal musings that fueled -. Similarly, the vibe of Autumn Variations doesn't feel markedly distinct from -. Perhaps Dessner helps Sheeran keep his ebullience subdued -- "Amazing" and "Plastic Bag" come to the precipice of unfettered pop, then pull back -- but he mainly allows Sheeran to follow his introspective instincts, resulting in an album that sustains a mellow, melancholy mood without quite distinguishing itself as a collection of individual songs. Then again, that's kind of the point of the album: it's a pensive soundtrack for a specific season, nothing more and nothing less.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Listening to this CD brings back a lot of memories. Mad Dogs & Englishmen was just about the most elaborate album that A&M Records had ever released, back in 1971, a double LP in a three-panel, fold-out, gatefold sleeve, with almost 80 minutes of music inside and a ton of photos, graphics, and annotation wrapping around it. A live recording done in tandem with a killer documentary film of the same U.S. tour, it was recorded at the Fillmore East, where the movie was a cross-country affair, and the two were, thus, completely separate entities -- also, as people couldn't "buy" the film in those days, the double LP has lingered longer in the memory, by virtue of its being on shelves, and also being taken off those shelves to be played. Unlike a lot of other "coffee table"-type rock releases of the era, such as Woodstock and The Concert for Bangladesh, people actually listened to Mad Dogs & Englishmen -- most of its content was exciting, and its sound, a veritable definition of big-band rock with three dozen players working behind the singer, was unique. The CD offers a seriously good sound, whether it's just Joe Cocker and a pianist and organist in the opening of "Bird on a Wire," or the entire band going full-tilt on "Cry Me a River"; the remastering was set at a high volume level and there was a decent amount of care taken to get the detail right, so you can appreciate the presence of the multiple drummers, and the legion of guitarists and singers, plus the multiple keyboard players. The lead guitar and solo piano on "Feelin' Alright," for example, come through, but so do the 34 other players and singers behind the lead. This record was also just as much a showcase for Leon Russell as it was for Joe Cocker, which A&M probably didn't mind a bit, as Russell was selling millions of records at the time. As is now known, and it's recounted in the new notes, the tour from which this album was drawn all but wiped out Joe Cocker -- on a psychic level -- because the music was presented on such a vast scale (and there is a moment in the movie where he mentions breaking up his former backing group, the Grease Band, with a hint of regret in his voice) and his own contribution was so muted by Russell's work as arranger and bandleader. He may well have been the "victim" of a "hijacking" of sorts, but the musical results, apart from the dubious "Give Peace a Chance," are difficult to argue about upon hearing this record anew, decades after the fact -- it's almost all bracing and beautiful.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

Arhoolie's Ball n' Chain is a terrific collection of late-'60s recordings from Big Mama Thornton. Supported on various tracks by Lightnin' Hopkins and Larry Williams, Big Mama runs through such familiar items as "Hound Dog," "Sometimes I Have a Heartache," "Sweet Little Angel," "Little Red Rooster," "Wade in the Water," and "Ball and Chain," turning in generally powerful performances. By and large, these don't necessarily rival her classic '50s recordings, but they are worth investigating if you're looking for something more.© Thom Owens /TiVo

Producer Giles Martin, son of the legendary George Martin, is at the helm of the soundtrack of the film Rocketman, which tells the story of Elton John's rise into the music world. The retro flavour of this biopic and its soundtrack works at full strength, especially when you consider that Martin Jr. was at the forefront of the pop frenzy that shook England in the 1960s and 1970s. Its elegant and punchy arrangements are certainly very close to the sound of the time, but it also sometimes brings in certain textures, a breath of fresh air that could be described as "postmodern". Rocketman's soundtrack album does not feature any instrumental music from the film, but only hits by the star performed by Taron Egerton, the actor who plays him on screen. Egerton certainly thrills with his vocal prowess, but we should not forget the presence of other actors in some songs: I Want Love is performed by Kit Connor, Gemma Jones, Bryce Dallas Howard and Steven Mackintosh, while The Bitch is Back, Don't Go Breaking My Heart and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road are duets with, respectively Sebastian Rich, Rachel Muldoon and Jamie Bell (who has the difficult task of playing Bernie Taupin, Elton John's favourite songwriter). But the piece of most bravura of this Rocketman soundtrack is certainly the schizophrenic delirium that is the song that closes the record since it is a cover of (I'm Gonna) Love Me Again by Taron Egerton in duet with Elton John himself. © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

The Who’s golden age has long passed, but this release is nothing short of a miracle. The London group’s magic was shattered upon the death of Keith Moon in 1978; their two 1981 and 1982 albums incidentally drew little interest. Their 2006 album, which came four years after the death of bassist John Entwistle barely raised the bar. It was difficult to expect anything great to come from the remaining duo but then, in 2019, Who was released. The tireless efforts of Pete Townshend, the band’s determined guitarist and composer was ready to do anything to make another album after many long years out of the studio. Produced by Dave Sardy (who we know more for his work with bands like Helmet, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Marilyn Manson and System of a Down), this record goes back to a true and honest form of rock that some more experimental additions (such as some electronic sounds) do not tarnish. Townshend, conscience of his age like his associate Roger Daltrey, recognises the futility of trying to chase after a lost youth. On the contrary, many of the songs seem to articulate the image of inevitability, the aging rocker. Are rockers destined for long-lasting careers? Perhaps not. But they have weathered the winds and here they are. The foundation to many of the songs is his novel Age of Anxiety which was intended to be converted into a musical before Townshend turned his interest onto making a veritable Who album. Who is a not the most full-on rock album and is less energetic than what we are used to. But it is incredibly well written (Rockin’ Rage, Detour), containing beautiful, unifying choruses (Street Song) and some forthright messages as heard on the first words to All This Music Must Fade: “I don’t care, I know you’re gonna hate this song, and that’s fair, we never really got along.” It’s a somewhat indirect way of talking about the relationship between Townshend and Daltrey who don’t compose together. The guitarist writes, the singer performs. After years of a love-hate relationship and recurrent feuds, one might imagine that this bad chemistry would show on the album, especially considering the separate recording sessions. However, the result is clear. It works! The rockers who sang of dying before getting old in 1965 now sing of not wanting to get wise (I Don’t Wanna Get Wise). If getting wise means recording songs like these ones, we won’t complain. The Deluxe version offers a remix by Townshend of Beads on One String and also a live acoustic taken from their unique concert given on Valentine’s Day 2020 at Kingston-on-Thames, 50 years day for day after the recording of the famous Live at Leeds. While it lacks some songs played on this day (notably Pinball Wizard and Behind Blue Eyes), simply listening to classics like Substitute and Won’t Get Fooled Again in this new format is enchanting and hard-hitting despite the lack of saturation. Our old rockers are still going strong and know how to interpret tracks that balance the band’s identity without ever making themselves appear old and frail. A real mark of wisdom despite their refusal to accept so. Rock’n’roll still lives. © Chief Brody/Qobuz 

A brawny guitar riff, a swaggering harmonica and a thumping drum – the opening few bars of Why Me? Why Not set the scene for the rest of the record. Clearly, Liam Gallagher’s downtempo album will just have to wait. Following two refreshingly honest albums during his Beady Eye parenthesis (2009 – 2014), the crazier half of Oasis released his debut solo album As You Were in 2017. At the age of 45, the Mancunian set in stone his obsession with the sixties, avoiding any unnecessary frills to give his songs real panache. Two years later, he has amplified that raw, direct feeling with Why Me? Why Not, an album which is totally in tune with his usual sound. Channelling his inner Lennon on Once and McCartney on Halo, Liam Gallagher even tunes into the Oasis sound without Noel on Be Still. In no way does he reinvent the wheel, but instead he works on fine-tuning his songwriting skills. A great record. © Clotilde Maréchal/Qobuz

The oft-stated aim of the Hollow Coves' vocal-focused soft rock is simple: celebrate joy. While that's admirable, if suspiciously naïve, the duo has connected with a devoted audience that wants to hear uplifting love songs honoring life rather than anguished lamenting over relationship heartbreak or angry ranting over what needs to change. Musically, the duo's positivity translates to pristine recordings and soothing, über-groomed mixes where steadily-strummed acoustic and electric guitars are layered around songs completely centered on the honeyed vocals of Matt Carins and Ryan Henderson. Their vision is immediately apparent in "Milk & Honey" where their controlled close harmonies tranquilize: "Oh, open your eyes/ Be like a child/ Life is more than making money/ Don't wait for a sign/ This is your time."  The unwaveringly untroubled lyrics are oddly impersonal—all universalities and no personal references—as in "Harder to Fake It," where their cheerful vocals urge self-help: "So dive in,  don't waste it, time is racing/ Hey, it's time to draw a line and turn the page/ 'Cause if we never try, we'll never see a change."  When the music strikes a more aggressive angle as in "Purple," guitars echo and soar with a hint of Coldplay expansiveness. Portraying conflict in music has always been easier than conveying bliss. Hollow Covers are firmly convinced that innocence is in the eye of the beholder. C'mon, don't worry, be happy. © Robert Baird/Qobuz