Much has been made of the fact that Olivia Rodrigo—unlike Phoebe Bridgers,Beabadoobee and Sabrina Carpenter—wasn't asked to join Taylor Swift on her Eras tour after failing to give Swift songwriting credit on two tracks from Sour, Rodrigo's 2021 debut. (The non-collaborative credits, largely for influence, were added later and to much hullabaloo.) But Rodrigo shouldn't be opening for anyone. She's a towering pop star with an appealingly awkward edge, admired by Annie Clark and Kathleen Hanna, who has called Rodrigo "a revelation." She lives up to that potential on her second album, a bottle rocket messily shooting off excitement and confusion and barbs, some of which land right back in her own heart. As a tween, Rodrigo starred in an American Girl movie. At 20, she's singing "all-american bitch," a clever roller coaster that goes from dreamy folk—her voice soft like breath on a dandelion puff—to giddy pop-punk. "With perfect all-American lips/ And perfect all-American hips/ I know my place, I know my place and this is it ... I scream inside to deal with it," she howls with sarcasm and angst. "bad idea right?" is an irresistible made-for-radio song, with head-banger guitar and new wave bounce, about hooking up with an ex against all better judgment ("See you tonight/ It's a bad idea right? Whatever, it's fine"). "Vampire" deliciously melds traces of Swift (bite your tongue) and My Chemical Romance as Rodrigo aims for the rafters and commits to the to the metaphor: "You sunk your teeth into me/ Bloodsucker, famefucker/ Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire." "Lacy" is a surprising bit of gothic folk that taps into complicated feelings of friendship and jealousy, its sweet guitar darkly contrasting with a sinister vocal effect. "ballad of a homeschooled girl" bounces on spring-loaded bass and careening '90s indie-rock guitar as she lays bare self-perceived social awkwardness: "I'm on the outside of the greatest inside joke/ And I hate all my clothes/ Feels like my skin doesn't fit right over my bones … Everything I do is tragic/ Every guy I like is gay." Rodrigo and producer Daniel Nigro have a keen sense of dynamics, varying the pop-punk and piano ballads that made Sour a smash. "Making the Bed" makes the most of a big swoony bridge, "Logical" lashes out at a "master manipulator" and "Teenage Dream" finds Rodrigo already worried about outgrowing her youthful charms: "And when does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough?" It's fucked-up and scary and sad, and it builds to a scream-along that is pure catharsis. "get him back!" is anthemic and unafraid to look a little crazy: "Wanna kiss his face (And then I want to get him back)/ With an uppercut (Then I want to get him back)/ I wanna meet his mom (And then I want to get him back)/ Just to tell her her son sucks (Then I want to get him back)." A former Disney girl, Rodrigo is never going to be able to hide her theater-kid tendencies, but there's plenty of room for the drama here. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

With Paranoïa, Angels, True Love, Christine And The Queens embarks on a long spiritual journey, with Madonna as their guiding high priestess. The two artists met in 2015 during a concert by the American, when Madonna had invited him to go on stage to choreograph a few dance steps. For this album, Christine And the Queens called on her to speak instead of sing. Seduced by the sheer madness of the project, Madonna agreed to take part in three songs (Angels Crying in My Bed, I Met an Angel and Lick the Light Out). Christine And The Queens wanted to salute this iconic voice "which speaks with all the facets inscribed in our consciousness, taking on multiple forms and roles, from the maternal figure to the dominatrix". As for the second feature of the album, the American singer and rapper 070 Shake, who can be heard on True Love and Let Me Touch You Once, makes an appearance. The spiritual form of Paranoïa, Angels, True Love owes a lot to the music produced by Mike Dean (who works with Jay-Z and Beyoncé). Often coated with a trip hop colour that reflects the multiple influences of Christine And The Queens, the tracks cede the place of honour to spectrally high strings and ecstatic electric guitar solos. We also hear a mystical cover of Canon de Pachelbel (Full of Life). Finally, this album is a way for Christine and the Queens to showcase the full range of their voice, which has never been so mixed and reverberated, for it to have maximum effect (A Day in the Water). Paranoia, Angels, True Love can be perceived as the singer's tribute to a highly determined English-speaking pop, but the air of strange musical comedy shows that this resolutely atypical object belongs only to them. © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

With her album Future Nostalgia, Dua Lipa perfectly summed up what pop was becoming: a playground more and more quickly digesting the global sound system, in commercial shackles thanks to rapidly changing musical consumption, to be sublimated and taken out on all sides. Besides, isn't that what British music has always done? Originally from London, the singer released a deluxe version of Future Nostalgia, entitled Moonlight Edition, adding eight tracks to the original, including the single We’re Good, along with songs released earlier in 2020 like the single version of her duet with DaBaby, Levitating. Those additions give Future Nostalgia a more rap-oriented accent, less rooted in synthetic disco, namely the duet with American rapper J.I.D. entitled Not My Problem, is the highlight of this reissue. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

On the 13th of March 2017, Tommy LiPuma died at the age of 80. The Grammy-adorned producer had, one year prior, began work on a new album for his protege Diana Krall. The Canadian singer was therefore left to mix the record entirely alone... The calibre of musician on this record is impressive: guitarists Russell Malone and Anthony Wilson, bassists John Clayton and Christian McBride, drummer Karriem Riggins and Bob Dylan’s bassist, Tony Garnier, all come along to finish off the recording of This Dream of You. A great fan of Dylan, Krall used a song name from his 2009 album Together Through Life as the title of this 15th album released by Verve. Whether in duet, trio or quartet, Madame Costello plays and sings in diverse contexts but ultimately returns to her preferred repertoire: the Great American Songbook. The standards that have come to be expected a thousand times over are met as if by magic. Autumn in New York by Vernon Duke, How Deep is the Ocean by Irving Berlin and the unmistakeable Singing in the Rain by Gene Kelley as well as other classics from giants like Sinatra and Nat King Cole become her own. A whisper, a murmur, a refined arrangement, an instrumental treasure, Diana Krall prevails time after time. One could fault her for not daring to reimagine the songs more, but when the standard of these renditions is so high and of such depth, we can do nothing but yield and wonder. Also note that for the first time Diana Krall’s face doesn’t appear on the album cover! © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Over the course of three essential albums, Dogrel (2019, Qobuzissime!), A Hero's Death (2020) and Skinty Fia (2022), Fontaines D.C. have established themselves as a major voice in UK rock. In fact, the Irish band quickly proved capable of breaking free of the post-punk shackles and branching out into other musical flavours. It's hardly surprising that the first solo album from their charismatic singer Grian Chatten is a rather strong display of stylistic eclecticism. In fact, there are no traces of hardcore post-punk on Chaos For The Fly, which showcases the pen of this Skerries native. Throes of success, homesickness, fear of the future, need for freedom, extreme introspection, simple contemplation… it's all there! Grian Chatten whispers his prose through a mist of melancholy that never overstates, hypnotising us with his viscerally poetic voice. As for the instrumentation, whether he opts for a stripped-down style based around a simple acoustic guitar (it was in this simple instrument that he composed his album), or for polished and varied arrangements, the leader of Fontaines D.C. demonstrates total mastery. The astonishing Bob's Casino, a slightly retro duet with his sweetheart Georgie Jesson in a very She & Him or Nancy Sinatra/Lee Hazlewood spirit, demonstrates it convincingly. In short, when it’s pens down at the end of the year, Chaos For The Fly will be up there with the best albums. Way up there! © Marc Zisman

The meteoric rise Olivia Rodrigo experienced after Sour would have been thrilling and challenging for any artist, but navigating the cusp of adolescence and adulthood at the same time gave her a bounty of material for her second album. GUTS reveals that she didn't crumble under expectations -- instead, she took notes. Recorded with returning producer Daniel Nigro in the same garage studio where he and Rodrigo made Sour, the album hones in on her soaring, soul-baring ballads and spiky pop-punk manifestos and perfects them. "Driver's License" may have been her debut album's mega-hit, but many fans connected with fiercely catchy singles like "Good 4 U." Several of GUTS' standouts are in the same throbbing vein: Rodrigo cringes at herself and throws shade at an old flame on the new wave-y "love is embarrassing." She makes mistakes gleefully on "bad idea right?," a witty recollection of hooking up with an ex that rivals Wet Leg when it comes to chugging post-punk-pop with droll singalong choruses. Songs like these suggest that Rodrigo's record collection is growing along with her confidence, and though the way "all-american bitch" swings from deceptively winsome folk to raging punk shares pages with Phoebe Bridgers' and Courtney Love's songbooks, she ties it all together even more convincingly than she did on Sour. Likewise, GUTS' not-too-raw, not-too-slick production bolsters her talent for giving complex moods wide appeal. The song "get him back!" tangles revenge and longing in some of the album's most scathing lyrics ("I wanna meet his mom/Just to tell her her son sucks"), but it sounds like a direct hit. This gift is almost as uncommon as her ability to write lyrics so relatable that it feels like she's read her fans' diaries -- or minds. Rodrigo confronts the sting of second and third heartbreaks with hard-earned wisdom, and tracks like "making the bed" and "logical" add a refreshing dose of self-awareness to the catharsis of "Driver's License." And while "vampire"'s recriminations against older men who leech off of her and "sell (her) for parts" may not reflect the everyday reality of her listeners, it brings them into her world with as much authenticity as her other ballads. GUTS even features songs her listeners might not know they need yet: The breathy "pretty isn't pretty" tackles lookism and body dysmorphia, near-universal experiences for young women with surprisingly few songs written about them. Rodrigo does a remarkable job of balancing moments that are very much of the time when she made the album with moments that hint at more: "teenage dream" yearns for the day when she won't be wise beyond her years, and "lacy" explores the intricacies of jealousy and yearning with nuance that a singer/songwriter of any age would be proud to possess. GUTS is emphatic proof that Rodrigo isn't just good for a kid -- she's grown into an artist with plenty of things to say, and the confidence and eloquence to say them her way.© Heather Phares /TiVo

Little Girl Blue, released in 1957, was Nina Simone's first recording, originally issued on the Bethlehem label. Backed by bassist Jimmy Bond and Albert "Tootie" Heath, it showcases her ballad voice as one of mystery and sensuality and showcases her uptempo jazz style with authority and an enigmatic down-home feel that is nonetheless elegant. The album also introduced a fine jazz pianist. Simone was a solid improviser who never strayed far from the blues. Check the opener, her reading of Duke Ellington's "Mood Indigo," which finger-pops and swings while keeping the phrasing deep-blue. It is contrasted immediately with one of the -- if not the -- definitive reads of Willard Robison's steamy leave-your-lover ballad "Don't Smoke in Bed." The title track, written by Rodgers & Hart, features "Good King Wenceslas" as a classical prelude to one of the most beautiful pop ballads ever written. It is followed immediately by the funky swing in "Love Me or Leave Me" with a smoking little piano solo in the bridge where Bach meets Horace Silver and Bobby Timmons. It's also interesting to note that while this was her first recording, the record's grooves evidence an artist who arrives fully formed; many of the traits Simone displayed throughout her career as not only a vocalist and pianist but as an arranger are put on first notice here. "My Baby Just Cares for Me" has a stride shuffle that is extrapolated on in the piano break. Her instrumental and improvising skills are put to good use on Tadd Dameron's "Good Bait," which is transformed into something classical from its original bebop intent. "You'll Never Walk Alone" feels more like some regal gospel song than the Rodgers & Hammerstein show tune it was. Of course, one of Simone's signature tunes was her version of "I Loves You, Porgy," which appears here for the first time and was released as a single. Her own "Central Park Blues" is one of the finest jazz tunes here, and it is followed with yet another side of Simone's diversity in her beautiful take on the folk-gospel tune "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands," with quiet and determined dignity and drama. Another of her instrumentals compositions, "African Mailman," struts proud with deep Afro-Caribbean roots and rhythms.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Shelby Lynne has followed her own sometimes reckless, always adventuresome muse throughout her career. Just a Little Lovin' is her personal homage to the late, legendary Dusty Springfield. Nine of its ten cuts are inextricably linked to the late British vocalist whose sway Lynne came under years ago, but a chance conversation with Barry Manilow -- of all people -- led to the making of this record. Lynne doesn't attempt to sound like Springfield. She uses her own phrasing and rhythmic sensibility. Four cuts here come from the Dusty in Memphis period, as well as the title track to The Look of Love and some of her mid-'60s British hits that were not released in America. All these songs, with the exception of the self-penned "Pretend," were recorded by Springfield. The album was recorded in the Capitol Records studio with Frank Sinatra's microphone and producer Phil Ramone. Lynne's aesthetic sense serves her well: most singers automatically shoot for "Son of a Preacher Man," but Lynne steers clear. She does, however, tackle some truly monolithic Springfield hits: "Just a Little Lovin'," "Breakfast in Bed," "Willie and Laura Mae Jones," and "I Don't Want to Hear It Anymore." Lynne's readings are close, intimate. They're understated but more direct. Ramone used a small quartet in guitarist Dean Parks, keyboardist Rob Mathes, drummer Gregg Field, and bassist Kevin Axt to give her that edge. Lynne's delivery takes these songs straight to the listener's belly. The taut but easy sensuality in her voice adds a very different dimension to them. When she gets to the in-the-pocket feel of "Breakfast in Bed," she comes at the tune's subject with an up-front sexual expression -- Springfield's trademark vulnerability is willfully absent. A Rhodes and Parks' guitar give her plenty of room to pour out the lyric. "Willie and Laura Mae Jones" has a rough, swampy earthiness; Lynne adds her guitar to its sparse, slow growl. Springfield recorded this tome about interracial love when the subject was taboo in America. She made it palatable with her innocent delivery. Lynne gets at Tony Joe White's lyric with a bluesy toughness expressing incredulity toward injustice. Randy Newman's "I Don't Want to Hear It Anymore" carries inside it the trace of both Lynne's Southern homeland and her adopted West Coast residency. She can tell this heartbreaking tale as if it were her own while uncannily recalling Springfield's empathy. Signature Springfield pieces such as "I Only Want to Be with You" are astonishing for their contrast. The bubbly, poppy original version is slowed here; it offers the impression of genuine surprise by an unsuspecting protagonist. The jazzy piano and Parks' lush guitar lines entwine perfectly. Springfield's version of "The Look of Love" has remained unchallenged for more than 40 years. Lynne doesn't even try. Instead she offers tribute. It's not as sultry as the original was, but feels honest and hungry in stripping off the lyric's mask with her voice. "How Can I Be Sure" by the Rascals -- cut as a British-only single by Springfield -- is startling: Lynne sings it accompanied only by Parks' guitar. It's a radical but fitting closer. Just a Little Lovin' is the finest tribute Springfield has ever received on tape. That such a fine singer and songwriter interpreted her in such an empathic and sophisticated manner is respect personified. Ramone's care with the project is, as usual, celebratory. The multidimensional persona Lynne usually displays on her records is still here in spades. Her diversity, confidence, and wide-ranging ability are the standard to aspire to.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

"I saw my task... was to capture them in their delapidated glory before some more professional producer f--ked them up," Elvis Costello wrote of his role behind the controls for the Pogues' second album, Rum Sodomy & the Lash. One spin of the album proves that Costello accomplished his mission; this album captures all the sweat, fire, and angry joy that was lost in the thin, disembodied recording of the band's debut, and the Pogues sound stronger and tighter without losing a bit of their edge in the process. Rum Sodomy & the Lash also found Shane MacGowan growing steadily as a songwriter; while the debut had its moments, the blazing and bitter roar of the opening track, "The Sick Bed of Cúchulainn," made it clear MacGowan had fused the intelligent anger of punk and the sly storytelling of Irish folk as no one had before, and the rent boys' serenade of "The Old Main Drag" and the dazzling, drunken character sketch of "A Pair of Brown Eyes" proved there were plenty of directions where he could take his gifts. And like any good folk group, the Pogues also had a great ear for other people's songs. Bassist Cait O'Riordan's haunting performance of "I'm a Man You Don't Meet Every Day" is simply superb (it must have especially impressed Costello, who would later marry her), and while Shane MacGowan may not have written "Dirty Old Town" or "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda," his wrought, emotionally compelling vocals made them his from then on. Rum Sodomy & the Lash falls just a bit short of being the Pogues' best album, but was the first one to prove that they were a great band, and not just a great idea for a band.© Mark Deming /TiVo

John Williams' score for what has become the most successful movie of all time is similar to his scores for other popular Steven Spielberg films. He remains firmly in the tradition of the lush, heavily orchestrated score. This is the first horror movie he and Spielberg collaborated on since Jaws, but there is nothing like the threatening theme that helped define that monster movie here. Instead, there is a lot of quiet music, a much more subtle touch, and a wistful theme that runs throughout, although things do come to a boil now and then.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

Stone Temple Pilots were positively vilified once their 1992 debut, Core, started scaling the charts in 1993, pegged as fifth-rate Pearl Jam copyists. It is true that the worst moments of Core play like a parody of the Seattle scene -- titles like "Dead and Bloated" and "Crackerman" tell you that much, playing like really bad Alice in Chains parodies, and the entire record tends to sink into gormless post-grunge sludge. Furthermore, even if it rocks pretty hard, it's usually without much character, sounding like cut-rate grunge. To be fair, it's more that they share the same influences as their peers than being overt copycats, but it's still a little disheartening all the same. If that's all that Core was, it'd be as forgettable as Seven Mary Three, but there are the hits that propelled it up the charts, songs that have remarkably stood the test of time to be highlights of their era. "Sex Type Thing" may have a clumsy anti-rape lyric that comes across as misogynist, but it survives on its terrifically lunk-headed riff, while "Wicked Garden" is a surprisingly effective piece of revivalist acid rock. Then, there's the slow acoustic crawl of "Creep" that works as well as anything on AIC's Sap and, finally, "Plush," a majestic album rock revival more melodic and stylish than anything grunge produced outside of Nirvana itself. These four songs aren't enough to salvage a fairly pedestrian debut, but they do find STP to be nimble rock craftsmen when inspiration hits.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Shelby Lynne has followed her own sometimes reckless, always adventuresome muse throughout her career. Just a Little Lovin' is her personal homage to the late, legendary Dusty Springfield. Nine of its ten cuts are inextricably linked to the late British vocalist whose sway Lynne came under years ago, but a chance conversation with Barry Manilow -- of all people -- led to the making of this record. Lynne doesn't attempt to sound like Springfield. She uses her own phrasing and rhythmic sensibility. Four cuts here come from the Dusty in Memphis period, as well as the title track to The Look of Love and some of her mid-'60s British hits that were not released in America. All these songs, with the exception of the self-penned "Pretend," were recorded by Springfield. The album was recorded in the Capitol Records studio with Frank Sinatra's microphone and producer Phil Ramone. Lynne's aesthetic sense serves her well: most singers automatically shoot for "Son of a Preacher Man," but Lynne steers clear. She does, however, tackle some truly monolithic Springfield hits: "Just a Little Lovin'," "Breakfast in Bed," "Willie and Laura Mae Jones," and "I Don't Want to Hear It Anymore." Lynne's readings are close, intimate. They're understated but more direct. Ramone used a small quartet in guitarist Dean Parks, keyboardist Rob Mathes, drummer Gregg Field, and bassist Kevin Axt to give her that edge. Lynne's delivery takes these songs straight to the listener's belly. The taut but easy sensuality in her voice adds a very different dimension to them. When she gets to the in-the-pocket feel of "Breakfast in Bed," she comes at the tune's subject with an up-front sexual expression -- Springfield's trademark vulnerability is willfully absent. A Rhodes and Parks' guitar give her plenty of room to pour out the lyric. "Willie and Laura Mae Jones" has a rough, swampy earthiness; Lynne adds her guitar to its sparse, slow growl. Springfield recorded this tome about interracial love when the subject was taboo in America. She made it palatable with her innocent delivery. Lynne gets at Tony Joe White's lyric with a bluesy toughness expressing incredulity toward injustice. Randy Newman's "I Don't Want to Hear It Anymore" carries inside it the trace of both Lynne's Southern homeland and her adopted West Coast residency. She can tell this heartbreaking tale as if it were her own while uncannily recalling Springfield's empathy. Signature Springfield pieces such as "I Only Want to Be with You" are astonishing for their contrast. The bubbly, poppy original version is slowed here; it offers the impression of genuine surprise by an unsuspecting protagonist. The jazzy piano and Parks' lush guitar lines entwine perfectly. Springfield's version of "The Look of Love" has remained unchallenged for more than 40 years. Lynne doesn't even try. Instead she offers tribute. It's not as sultry as the original was, but feels honest and hungry in stripping off the lyric's mask with her voice. "How Can I Be Sure" by the Rascals -- cut as a British-only single by Springfield -- is startling: Lynne sings it accompanied only by Parks' guitar. It's a radical but fitting closer. Just a Little Lovin' is the finest tribute Springfield has ever received on tape. That such a fine singer and songwriter interpreted her in such an empathic and sophisticated manner is respect personified. Ramone's care with the project is, as usual, celebratory. The multidimensional persona Lynne usually displays on her records is still here in spades. Her diversity, confidence, and wide-ranging ability are the standard to aspire to.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Alice Cooper hadn't had a hugely successful album in over a decade when, in 1989, he teamed up with Bon Jovi producer Desmond Child for Trash -- a highly slick and commercial yet edgy pop-metal effort that temporarily restored him to the charts in a big way. Fueled by the irresistible hit single "Poison," the album temporarily gave back to Cooper the type of visibility he deserved. There's nothing shocking here, and Cooper's ability to generate controversy had long since faded. But while the escapist Trash -- which was clearly aimed at the Mötley Crüe/Guns N' Roses crowd -- may not be the most challenging album of Cooper's career, and isn't in a class with School's Out or Billion Dollar Babies, it's fun and quite enjoyable. And it was great to see the long-neglected Cooper on MTV next to so many of the '80s rockers he had influenced.© Alex Henderson /TiVo

Both jazz and classical music are often better on stage than in the studio, and Nina Simone bridged the gap between both of these art forms. One of Nina Simone's best albums, It Is Finished, is a live recording. And Montreux, here, a compilation of her previously-unpublished performances at the famous jazz festival, ranks alongside that earlier work in terms of quality. In it we hear segments from five concerts given on the shores of Lake Geneva, in 1968, 1976, 1981, 1987 and 1990, all of which enjoy excellent sound quality. 1968 saw the second outing of the festival and the beginning of a long relationship between Nina Simone and Montreux. This concert was previously only available on rare and expensive pressings, and this release allows us to hear Simone's great works from those days (from I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free to Backlash Blues or See-Line Woman plus her cover of Ne me quitte pas) performed in a workmanlike but relaxed style. It was later, and most notably in 1976, that her music reached extremes, moving between a fresh breeze and a cathartic rampage. High priestess of soul, Nina Simone became a shaman, an enchantress who did what she wanted with music and audiences. From intimate ballads to trancelike Afro-Jazz, Simone reigns supreme, totally in command of her material. The tracks from 1990 show an artist tested by life's trials, with quite a different voice. She had lost confidence and power, but this fragility made her even more affecting. © Stéphane Deschamps / Qobuz

By 1979's Reggatta de Blanc (translation: White Reggae), nonstop touring had sharpened the Police's original blend of reggae-rock to perfection, resulting in breakthrough success. Containing a pair of massive hit singles -- the inspirational anthem "Message in a Bottle" and the spacious "Walking on the Moon" -- the album also signaled a change in the band's sound. Whereas their debut got its point across with raw, energetic performances, Reggatta de Blanc was much more polished production-wise and fully developed from a songwriting standpoint. While vigorous rockers did crop up from time to time ("It's Alright for You," "Deathwish," "No Time This Time," and the Grammy-winning instrumental title track), the material was overall much more sedate than the debut -- "Bring on the Night," "The Bed's Too Big Without You," and "Does Everyone Stare." Also included was one of Stewart Copeland's two lead vocal appearances on a Police album, the witty "On Any Other Day," as well as one of the band's most eerie tracks, "Contact." With Reggatta de Blanc, many picked Sting and company to be the superstar band of the '80s, and the Police would prove them correct on the band's next release.© Greg Prato /TiVo

For your consideration: a wildly successful indie rock band with a legion of followers on an equally successful, highly credible independent label makes the jump to major-label powerhouse Atlantic, leading to much chagrin and speculation among its fans as they awaited with bated breath for what would happen to the group. The result was For Your Own Special Sweetheart, inarguably the most polished and fully realized album of Dischord alumnus Jawbox's career. Fast forward ten years and you find Barsuk's Death Cab for Cutie in the same position, making the same move. A new label, a larger crowd (thanks to their repeated appearances on The OC), and a side project of Ben Gibbard (Postal Service) that very well overshadowed the success of his main project. All of the moves were perfectly aligned to take the little band that could into the rock stratosphere. But the difference between Jawbox and Death Cab for Cutie was that For Your Own Special Sweetheart went on to be the finest release of Jawbox's canon. Plans definitely comes close to that mark, but falls slightly short. In comparison to the dry, raw production of Transatlanticism, Plans is warm and polished, the kind of album expected from a band obsessed with the sound of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours. Chris Walla does an amazing job bringing the group's sound in a different direction than before without compromising too many of the things that made the group sound great to begin with. Thematically, Plans is the Death Cab for Cutie suitable for graduate students, world-weary and wiser from their experiences, realizing they can no longer be love-starved 20-somethings without a clue yet hopelessly cursed to face the same issues. And there's merit to be had in acknowledging that maturity, for even blink-182 figured out their age and released their "serious" album. Gibbard's wispy, poetic lyrics (which could easily have been stolen from Aimee Mann's dressing room while she wasn't looking) still remain an artery from which the rest of the band beats and are some of his finest ever, but this time around the band aligns itself more with a series of emotional murmurs rather than a heart attack. The album winds its way from one ballad to the next, with brief stopovers at moderately up-tempo numbers to help break things up a bit. And it's this sense of resignation that either makes or breaks the album, depending on which Death Cab for Cutie is your favorite: the melancholic, hopeless romantic or the one who wears its heart on its sleeve with unbridled energy and passion. If Transatlanticism was Gibbard's Pet Sounds and Postal Service was SMiLE, then this is definitely Wild Honey, loved by adoring new fans and those who enjoy the ballads. But those hoping for a bit more -- for the bar to be raised higher -- might find this a mildly predictable exercise in Gibbard exorcising the demons of Phil Collins that haunt him. Plans is both a destination and a transitional journey for the group, one that sees the fulfillment of years of toiling away to develop their ideas and sound. But it's with the completion of those ideas that band is faced with a new set of crossroads and challenges to tread upon: to stay the course and suffer stagnation or try something bold and daringly new with their future. Which road they'll take will make all the difference.© Rob Theakston /TiVo

Beth Hart commands the stage with just one click of her fingers! The Californian tigress is still as feisty as ever without getting caught up in the clichés. In this live performance recorded on May 4th 2018 in London’s most prestigious setting, the Royal Albert Hall, she sets up her very own cabaret mixing blues, jazz and vintage soul. A woman who honours Nina Simone, Howlin’ Wolf, Dinah Washington, Buddy Guy and so many other key personalities of rhythm’n’blues, she shows us the full extent of her talent during this two-hour show. With a microphone to hand or sat behind her piano, what impresses us most is Beth Hart’s ability to mix all her musical influences and produce one very personal cocktail. Her secret? Her voice, of course. A kind of unstoppable magnet that pulls every word, every sentence, every chorus and which is made even more powerful by her contact with the audience. © Clotilde Maréchal/Qobuz