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Indeed a little extra for diehards and new fans alike, the Cranberries' Something Else serves as both a great primer to the band's classics and a suitable greatest-hits collection. Like Tori Amos' orchestral reworkings on Gold Dust, this release shines a fresh light and decades of hindsight on the Irish group's ten biggest singles, reinterpreted here with the string quartet from the Irish Chamber Orchestra. Dolores O'Riordan's voice remains in fine form, smooth and rich with maturity, backed by her steadfast bandmates Noel and Mike Hogan and Fergal Lawler. Their 1993 debut, Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can't We?, is represented by arguably their best-known songs, "Linger" and "Dreams." The sweeping renditions reinvigorate both songs with more life than their original forms, a treatment that improves a handful of others like 1996's To the Faithful Departed contributions "When You're Gone" and "Free to Decide." On the flip side, the songs that had more bite in their original incarnations are toned down for Something Else, creating an equally alluring angle to the songwriting. Their 1994 alt-rock standard "Zombie" loses its rage, but becomes the somber lament that, deep down, it always was. Likewise, "Ridiculous Thoughts" -- also from the seven-times platinum No Need to Argue -- transforms into a sweeping and yearning plea. The nostalgia trip finishes with 1999's Bury the Hatchet -- "Just My Imagination," "Animal Instinct," and "You & Me" arrive in a satisfying trio toward the close -- before Something Else ends on one of its three new songs. In addition to "The Glory" and "Rupture" -- which sound like B-sides from Departed and Hatchet, respectively -- Something Else includes the heartbreaking "Why?" Written after the passing of O'Riordan's father, "Why?" sounds a lot like her solo work, elevated here by the band into one of their most dramatic and haunting moments. Something Else is worthwhile for the faithful, offering new spins on songs that they likely know by heart, and is an easily digestible snapshot of their 20th century output for those in need of a reminder of the beloved Limerick group's legacy.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

The major-label full-length debut from California's Oliver Tree, 2020's Ugly Is Beautiful proves another showcase for the ironic bowl-cut and JNCO jean-wearing singer's bombastically hooky brand of pop. The album arrives on the heels of several buzzed-about EPs and Ugly Is Beautiful builds nicely upon those albums, juxtaposing catchy, '90s-style pop arrangements with vocals that seem at once cheeky and sincere. Mixing blown-out keyboards with distorted guitars, heavy basslines, and pounding beats, Tree has crafted a distinctively zoomer aesthetic, mixing a hot stew of influences from Nirvana and the Strokes to Eminem, Pixies, and sundry SoundCloud rap touchstones. It's a style that remains remarkably consistent even as he shifts gears, from the driving post-punk of "Me Myself & I" and the Beck-esque acoustic grunge of "Cash Machine" to the moody, synth-heavy club jam "1993." As Tree sings on "Alien Boy," "I fell down to Earth from a hundred miles away/And somehow I still make it work."© Matt Collar /TiVo

Abandoned Luncheonette, Hall & Oates' second album, was the first indication of the duo's talent for sleek, soul-inflected pop/rock. It featured the single "She's Gone," which would become a big hit in 1976 when it was re-released following the success of "Sara Smile."© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Surprisingly, very few artists can float a digital-age collection of number one singles without resorting to trickery involving foreign countries or obscure charts. The Beatles had little trouble (The Beatles 1) and Elvis Presley managed both a disc of number ones (Elvis: 30 #1 Hits) and one of number twos (2nd to None), but Michael Jackson bent the rules so far that calling his disc Number Ones is tantamount to consumer fraud. Additionally, a collection of number one singles may not be the best representation of an artist's career; the Elvis volume included nothing from his Sun years, and the Beatles' set skipped "Strawberry Fields Forever." The #1's, Motown's collection of chart-toppers by Diana Ross & the Supremes, fares much better. It benefits from two Supremes characteristics: as a pop group through and through, their biggest hits were often their best songs, and, with the help of the solo Diana Ross, they spent a long time on the charts (nearly 20 years separates the Supremes' debut at the top from Ross' last number one single). While Motown's separate volumes on Diana Ross and the Supremes (in the Ultimate Collection series) remain the best source for a single-disc picture of either act, The #1's works remarkably well. It includes 19 number one pop singles (13 from the group, six from the solo Ross), plus various number ones on the R&B and dance charts, and there aren't any glaring omissions. Granted, fans of early Motown can't live without the girl-group chestnuts "Buttered Popcorn" and "Your Heart Belongs to Me," while those who enjoy latter-day Ross won't find "One More Chance" or "Why Do Fools Fall in Love?" -- but of course, this collection wasn't created with them in mind. For the group who recorded more hit singles during the '60s than any other act except the Beatles, and for one of the reigning solo artists of the '70s, The #1's is a worthy tribute.© John Bush /TiVo

The Essential Taj Mahal pulls together the bluesman's Columbia, Warner, Gramavision Private Music, and Hannibal labels' recordings, making it the first truly cross-licensed compilation of his work. Given the depth and breadth of this set (it covers four decades), the listener gets not only a cross-sectional view of the artist, but also his innovative and idiosyncratic journey through the blues: Mahal has not only kept the tradition alive, he's expanded it and deepened it, tracing its roots and developments through the course of American, Caribbean, and African cultures. While there is no unreleased material here, there doesn't need to be. The sheer adventure in these recordings reveals the wealth of the contribution Mahal has made not only to the blues, but to popular culture both present and past. This is a comp to own, to be moved by, and to ultimately enjoy. Columbia issued a three-CD set earlier, but there were things there that needed to be trimmed. This leaner and meaner version is superior.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Last time we received a dispatch from Ryan Adams, the self-styled savior of rock & roll, it was in 2003, when he delivered his straight-up rock & roll record (aptly titled Rock N Roll) and his two-part mope-rock EP (later combined as one LP) Love Is Hell. Admirable records both, but not quite the sequel to Heartbreaker that fans craved. They also weren't quite as successful as all the hype surrounding their release suggested that they would be, so Adams briefly retreated from the spotlight to regroup, heading back in 2005 with a planned triptych of new albums, the first of which is the double-album Cold Roses, recorded with his new backing band the Cardinals and released at the beginning of May. Three albums in one year is overkill even for an artist predisposed to releasing his every whim, and while it's too early at this writing to judge whether he needed to release all three of the records, it's safe to say that Cold Roses is the record many fans have been waiting to hear -- a full-fledged, unapologetic return to the country-rock that made his reputation when he led Whiskeytown. Not that the album is a retreat, or a crass attempt to give the people what they want, but it's an assured, comfortable collection of 18 songs that play to Adams' strengths because they capture him not trying quite so hard. He settles into a warm, burnished, countryish groove not far removed from vintage Harvest-era Neil Young at the beginning and keeps it going over the course of a double-disc set that isn't all that long. With the first disc clocking in at 39:39 and the second at 36:29, this could easily have been released as a single-disc set, but splitting it into two and packaging it as a mock-gatefold LP is classic Ryan Adams, highlighting both his flair for rock classicism and his tendency to come across slightly affected. As always, he's so obsessive about fitting into classic rock's long lineage that he can be slightly embarrassing -- particularly on the intro to "Beautiful Sorta," which apes David Johansen's intro to the New York Dolls' "Looking for a Kiss" in a way that guarantees a cringe -- which is also a problem when he drifts toward lazy, profanity-riddled lyrics ("this sh*t just f*cks you up" on "Cherry Lane") that undercut a generally strong set of writing. But what makes Cold Roses a success, his first genuine one since Heartbreaker, is that it is a genuine band album, with the Cardinals not only getting co-writing credits but helping Adams relax and let the music flow naturally. It's not the sound of somebody striving to save rock & roll, or even to be important, but that's precisely why this is the easiest Ryan Adams to enjoy. The coming months with their coming LPs will reveal whether this is indeed a shift in his point of view, or just a brief break from his trademark blustering braggadocio.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

American Kid is Patty Griffin's first album of primarily original material since 2007's Children Running Through. It's her most stripped-down recording since her debut, Living with Ghosts. Acoustic guitars of all stripes, mandolins, earthy drums, percussion, bass, and occasional piano and organ accompany her instantly recognizable voice. Co-produced by the artist and Craig Ross, she is joined by longtime guitarist Doug Lancio, as well as Cody and Luther Dickinson. Robert Plant appears on three songs, including the single "Ohio." The set was recorded in Memphis and Brooklyn. Griffin wrote most of these songs after learning of her father's impending death. They aren't so much about his actual life, but her making sense of the coming absence of his physical presence in hers, what she knew of him and his times. These songs are mostly acoustic; one can hear traces of early blues, various American folk styles, gospel, and vintage country music in her brand of Americana. There isn't anything extra anywhere in the mix. The space in the high lonesome "Go Wherever You Wanna Go," with Luther's National Steel guitar playing slide in counterpart to Griffin's earthy vocal, is almost spooky. The combined supplication and exhortation in the haunted "Don't Let Me Die in Florida" carries traces of prewar and Memphis blues. The duet between Griffin and Plant on "Ohio," is a shimmering, open-tuned droning float, it's lyric binds spiritual and physical love; it would not have been out of place on a Band of Joy record. The feeling of home and hearth saturates her excellent reading of Lefty Frizzell's "Mom & Dad's Waltz," while the musical sensation -- if not the form -- of the folk-blues courses through the disquieting "Faithful Son," with a haunting backing vocal by Plant. "Irish Boy" evokes an early 20th century parlor song; Griffin's only accompaniment is her piano. "Get Ready Marie" is a barroom waltz, complete with a male backing chorus and made loopy by an off-kilter Hammond B-3. The set closer, "Gonna Miss You When You're Gone," is Griffin speaking directly to her father, addressing the deep mark he made upon her life, even as he's passing through it. It's part Lonnie Johnson and Lil Green swing blues, and part Peggy Lee pop. It's slow burning, tender, and bittersweet, a three a.m. confession in an empty room, sung from one spirit to another. While the theme of mortality runs deep through American Kid, so does the celebration of life. Roughshod and unpredictable songs engage it in the present as well as the past, through courage, fear, love, memory, and the grainy, knotty, often invisible ties that bind. With its immediacy, economy, cagey strength, and vulnerability, Griffin delivers these 12 songs not as gifts or statements, but as her own evidence of what is, what was, and what yet may come.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Wishing to escape the superstar expectations that sank Blind Faith before it was launched, Eric Clapton retreated with several sidemen from Delaney & Bonnie to record the material that would form Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. From these meager beginnings grew his greatest album. Duane Allman joined the band shortly after recording began, and his spectacular slide guitar pushed Clapton to new heights. Then again, Clapton may have gotten there without him, considering the emotional turmoil he was in during the recording. He was in hopeless, unrequited love with Pattie Boyd, the wife of his best friend, George Harrison, and that pain surges throughout Layla, especially on its epic title track. But what really makes Layla such a powerful record is that Clapton, ignoring the traditions that occasionally painted him into a corner, simply tears through these songs with burning, intense emotion. He makes standards like "Have You Ever Loved a Woman" and "Nobody Knows You (When You're Down and Out)" into his own, while his collaborations with Bobby Whitlock -- including "Any Day" and "Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad?" -- teem with passion. And, considering what a personal album Layla is, it's somewhat ironic that the lovely coda "Thorn Tree in the Garden" is a solo performance by Whitlock, and that the song sums up the entire album as well as "Layla" itself.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Apropos of nothing, Georgian-born chanteuse Katie Melua surprised everyone with 2010's The House by hooking up with William Orbit and fusing her familiar brand of coffee table jazz-pop with flourishes of subtle electronica. Perhaps concerned that it failed to top the charts like her previous three records, the 27-year-old has reverted to type for its follow-up, Secret Symphony, by returning to mentor Mike Batt, the former Wombles songwriter responsible for her incredible early success. It's a disappointing and frustrating retreat back to safety. Melua's distinctive velvety vocals were always more intriguing than the so-laid-back-they're-horizontal arrangements which surrounded them, but her last effort was an encouraging sign that she could leave her usual dinner party background music firmly behind. And while Batt's contributions here -- such as the drowsy lounge pop of "The Bit That I Don't Get," the steel-laden country balladry of "The Walls of the World," and the yearning, string-soaked title track -- are all typically elegant, demure, and understated affairs, they're so overly polite and ultimately anodyne, they make Eva Cassidy sound like a death metal act. If any more evidence were needed that Batt appears to be restricting her talents, Melua is far more captivating on the self-penned chamber pop of "Forgetting All My Troubles," and the four cover versions included, from the soaring torch song reworking of Ron Sexsmith's "Gold in Them Hills," to the double bass-led shuffle treatment of Fran Healy's "Moonshine," to the straightforward rendition of Françoise Hardy's sultry chanson "All Over the World." Secret Symphony is therefore not without its charms, but ultimately it's a clear step backwards from an artist who appeared to be overcoming her notable lack of edge.© Jon O'Brien /TiVo

In his liner notes, Anthony DeCurtis calls Live at the Fillmore "a digitally remixed and remastered version of the 1973 Derek and the Dominos double album In Concert, with five previously unreleased performances and two tracks that have only appeared on the four-CD Clapton retrospective, Crossroads." But this does not adequately describe the album. Live at the Fillmore is not exactly an expanded version of In Concert; it is a different album culled from the same concerts that were used to compile the earlier album. Live at the Fillmore contains six of the nine recordings originally released on In Concert, and three of its five previously unreleased performances are different recordings of songs also featured on In Concert -- "Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad?," "Tell the Truth," and "Let It Rain." The other two, "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out" and "Little Wing," have not been heard before in any concert version. Even when the same recordings are used on Live at the Fillmore as on In Concert, they have, as noted, been remixed and, as not noted, re-edited. In either form, Derek and the Dominos' October 1970 stand at the Fillmore East, a part of the group's only U.S. tour, finds them a looser aggregation than they seemed to be in the studio making their only album, Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. A trio backing Eric Clapton, the Dominos leave the guitarist considerable room to solo on extended numbers, five of which run over ten minutes each. Clapton doesn't show consistent invention, but his playing is always directed, and he plays more blues than you can hear on any other Clapton live recording.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

This set features the great Sarah Vaughan in a typically spontaneous Norman Granz production for Pablo with pianist Oscar Peterson, guitarist Joe Pass, bassist Ray Brown, and drummer Louie Bellson. Sassy sounds wonderful stretching out on such songs as "Midnight Sun," "More Than You Know," "Teach Me Tonight," and "Body and Soul," among others. All ten of the melodies are veteran standards that she knew backwards but still greeted with enthusiasm. A very good example of late-period Sarah Vaughan.© Scott Yanow /TiVo