Arriving hot on the heels of Latest Record Project, Vol. 1, the 2021 double album where Van Morrison unleashed all of his frustrations at being locked down during the COVID-19 pandemic, What's It Gonna Take? finds the singer doubling down on all of his gripes. The shift in intensity is apparent from the artwork depicting a couple being controlled by the hand of an unseen puppet master, an image that crystallizes Morrison's belief that the government and other shadowy forces are conspiring to take away free will from the common man. Van believes himself to be among these little folks: as he sings on one of the record's less politically charged songs, "I Ain't No Celebrity," he's merely a working musician. The fact that he was not able to work during the early months of the pandemic stoked Morrison's anger, and it shines brightly throughout What's It Gonna Take?, seeming even more vivid because his vitriolic lyrics are married to jaunty R&B rhythms or slow, soulful grooves delivered with precision and enshrined in a clean production. There's no ignoring Morrison's repeated references to Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg, fake news, and mind control or his huffy denials that he's a conspiracy theorist as they're pushed right to the forefront. Plus, where he seemed merely cranky on Latest Record Project, Vol. 1, Morrison is filled with bile here, letting it bubble to the surface even on slow-burners like "Can't Go On This Way." By the end of the album, he points some of this anger inward, resulting in the relatively nuanced "Fear and Self-Loathing in Las Vegas" and "Pretending," but that doesn't change the general tenor of What's It Gonna Take? The blend of anodyne R&B and anger makes for one of the odder albums in Van Morrison's body of work. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

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In 1983, Iggy Pop's career was in shambles, but an unexpected windfall arrived thanks to Iggy's frequent benefactor David Bowie. Bowie recorded "China Girl," a song Bowie and Pop co-wrote, for his album Let's Dance, earning Iggy some large (and much-needed) royalty checks. Wisely realizing he was running out of second chances, Iggy decided to make the most of his good fortune; he steered clear of drugs, learned to cook his own meals, started putting money in the bank, and used his savings to bankroll a new album. David Bowie offered to help, and together they came up with Blah Blah Blah, the most calculatedly commercial album of Iggy's career. Like The Idiot, Blah Blah Blah was heavily influenced by Bowie's input; however, while The Idiot was made by a man creating intelligent and ambitious art rock, Blah Blah Blah is the work of a popmeister looking for hits and not afraid to sound cheesy about it. In the liner notes, a member of Duran Duran is thanked for the loan of a drum machine, and that speaks volumes about the production; Blah Blah Blah is slick in a very '80s way, dominated by preprogrammed percussion and swirling keyboards. And in the four years since Zombie Birdhouse, Iggy hadn't come up with much in the way of material; the only truly memorable tracks are "Real Wild Child (Wild One)," a neat bit of electro-processed rockabilly (previously a hit for Australian rocker Johnny O'Keefe), and the moody "Cry for Love," co-written by former Sex Pistols guitarist Steve Jones. Both of these songs were minor hits, so Blah Blah Blah succeeded on its obviously commercial terms, but that doesn't change the fact it's one of Iggy's least interesting albums, and has dated worse than almost anything he's ever recorded.© Mark Deming /TiVo

The exciting thing about a new Boris record is anticipating what the band will do before you press play. Even now, some three decades into their career, the Tokyo-based noise merchants are relentless in their dedication to reshaping expectations of what heavy music can sound like. Sure, this may be the third album they've released with the title Heavy Rocks, and sure, each of them have found Boris working within a broadly defined idea of "hard-hitting rock'n'roll," but Boris is nothing if not a band of genre-agnostics. Just like the improvised drone pieces of the Solomon trilogy showed how heavy ambient music could be, and Noise was kind of shoegaze but also doomy psychedelia (though not super-noisy!), and the COVID-era NO (hardcore!) and W (glitchy dream-metal!) seemed to have nothing to do with each other but were still perfectly complementary, this latest edition of Heavy Rocks defies expectations at every turn. To be sure, it is definitely heavy, and it definitely rocks, and Boris makes it clear from the opening track—the abrasive and explosive "She is burning"—that this will definitely not be a drone/ambient/shoegaze affair. Throughout the forty-minutes-plus running time, the band darts in and out of fusions of heaviness and rockiness, and while only a few cuts "rock" in what could be called a traditional manner (namely the swinging, red-line-fever swagger of "Cramper" and "Ruins"), everything here is relentlessly heavy. Whether the thrashy attack of "Ghostly imagination" and "My name is blank," or the appropriately dour and terrifying "Nosferatou," Heavy Rocks (2022) is unabashedly swinging for your skull at all times. The album's approach is summed up literally and philosophically in the final two tracks; the penultimate cut "Chained" echoes the bristling drive of "She is burning," with a dizzying three-minutes of blasting catharsis. It's followed up, however, with the palate-cleansing comedown of the last song—called, of course, "(not) Last song"—which starts with a somber, spare piano figure that's soon accompanied only by wailing, mournful vocals, making for something that doesn't rock, but is heavy, and may (or may not!) point the way to what is in store from Boris next. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

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Eight years after their last studio release (2002's underperforming Da Capo), Swedish pop quartet Ace of Base return, minus original members Malin and Jenny Berggren, but with two new sound-alike vocalists in tow, Julia Williamson and Idol 2009 semifinalist Clara Hagman, for their fifth LP, The Golden Ratio. They may be synonymous with the dominant Europop scene of the mid-'90s, but with Lady Gaga pilfering their sound for recent single "Alejandro" and Katy Perry acknowledging them as a major inspiration for her Teenage Dream album, they couldn't have timed their long-awaited comeback much better. Produced and written by Ulf and Jonas, its 13 tracks combine the unexpectedly influential summery faux-reggae of their globe-conquering debut, Happy Nation, and the glossy dance-pop of follow-ups The Bridge and Flowers to produce perhaps the most quintessential Ace of Base record of their career. Packed with shimmering synths, dirty basslines, and gigantic pop choruses, the likes of lead single "All for You," the September-esque "Doreen," and the title track, which, in a situation of role reversal, owes a nod to Gaga's "Poker Face," are all the kind of euphoric schlager anthems you'd expect to see at Melodifestivalen. But elsewhere, they also embrace their more successful bubblegum reggae leanings on the bouncy "Blah, Blah, Blah on the Radio," the incessantly catchy "One Day," and "Mr. Replay," a carnival-style collaboration with emerging rapper Lex Marshall. Occasionally, they stray outside their comfort zone, and although the country-tinged "Southern California" provides one of the album's highlights, the plodding folk of "Who Am I?" and the schmaltzy trip-hop-lite ballad "Juliet" suggest they should stick to what they know. With the exception of the new lineup, The Golden Ratio could have been released during any point in the last 17 years, but although it fails to progress their trademark sound, it's an irresistibly melodic affair that could still provide today's more contemporary pop divas with a few more ideas.© Jon O'Brien /TiVo

Blahzay Blahzay's debut album, Blah Blah Blah, is a stellar piece of East Coast hip-hop, which isn't surprising since the duo were heavily involved in New York rap for a number of years before they released their own record. Though Blah Blah Blah isn't as sonically innovative as any of RZA's productions for the various Wu-Tang members, it is miles beyond the standard G-funk and gangsta pap that flooded the market in the mid-'90s. Both DJ P.F. Cuttin and MC Outloud are skilled rappers, but more importantly, they know how to construct musical backdrops that are funky, menacing, and exciting. It's a debut album that's full of promise, but more importantly, also full of achievement.© Leo Stanley /TiVo

Eliane Elias is such a fine hard bop/post-bop pianist that it is a pity that she occasionally feels compelled to vocalize; her singing voice is small, quiet, and unimpressive. However, other than her brief vocals on "The Beat of My Heart," "I Fall in Love Too Easily," and "Blah Blah Blah," this is a strong trio set. Elias interacts with either the bass-drum team of Marc Johnson and Jack DeJohnette or Christian McBride and Carl Allen, with guitarist Rodney Jones just popping up briefly on one song. Elias' playing is often introspective, but always very expressive and she swings hard on the faster pieces. She is one of the underrated greats of the jazz piano.© Scott Yanow /TiVo