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

**Disc 2, tracks 12 & 13 are not available in Hi-Res 24-bit and must be downloaded individually in CD quality**In 2023, soul music tends to fall into two categories. On the one hand, there are the taxidermied revivalists, firmly rooted in the traditions of the sixties and seventies. These include bands from the fascinating Daptone label, such as Thee Sacred Souls and The Budos Band, as well as St. Paul & The Broken Bones, Mayer Hawthorne and Durand Jones & The Indications... On the other are artists who are much more firmly rooted in R&B, coiling sensually around more contemporary beats and productions, often influenced by hip hop. As we progress from nu-soul pioneers such as Erykah Badu and D'Angelo to the modern Jazmine Sullivan, not much retro flavour survives... yet Gabriels chooses neither camp! There’s no doubt that this has something to do with the atypical casting of the impressive trio. It is fronted by the charismatic Californian singer Jacob Lusk, who at the age of 35 has been putting in the work, singing backing vocals for Beck, Diana Ross, Gladys Knight and Nate Dogg, and appearing on American Idol. He is joined by the Brit Ryan Hope, a multi-instrumentalist and music video director, and the American Ari Balouzian, a classically trained musician. It's a combination that creates a fascinating mix of soul tradition and 100% contemporary sounds evident throughout their debut album Angels & Queens. Of course, the secret weapon of this exhilarating and invigorating Qobuzissime is its singer. Lusk can do anything! He can unleash incendiary falsettos in the style of Curtis Mayfield, which carry the gospel tradition loud and clear, or whisper like a heartbroken lover - the vocal storm is total! Behind these stunning pyrotechnics, he also delivers touching personal lyrics; he’s never overly maudlin when he goes into introspection, nor does he pontificate when tackling important themes. However, If his voice is such a magnet, it's also because Ryan Hope and Ari Balouzian have created the perfect setting for it to shine through. Tempered brass, the right amount of strings, well-balanced percussion, lively backing vocals, and meticulous arrangements; the enchantment is inescapable, both in the ballads and in the up-tempo compositions. A divine Qobuzissime! © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

The cast of musicians on this album – although small – is undeniably impressive: Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney, the heart and soul of The Black Keys; Kenny Brown (the historic guitarist from the late RL Burnside's band and an interim member of The Black Keys); Eric Deaton, a guitarist and bassist who was adopted by Mississippi (where he played with RL Burnside, Junior Kimbrough, Valerie June, Hank Williams Jr, and of course – The Black Keys). The star of the show however - is unquestionably Robert Finley, always a notch above the rest.Discovered with his debut album in 2016 when he was already over 60 years old, this Louisiana musician has become the torchbearer for unadulterated Southern African American music. He's a prodigious singer, and a true disciple of Howlin' Wolf. With a gravelly bluesman's voice, Finley can suddenly soar into falsetto on pure whim. While he was previously known for more soulful work featuring brass and choirs, melodious basslines, and strong gospel influences, Black Bayou sees Finley delivering a fourth album that's more pagan, tougher, dirtier, and wilder. In a word – it’s more bluesy. It's also funkier and rockier, infusing soul with a sense of intensity and urgency.This is the kind of music that's played in small venues known only to regulars. It’s meant for the bars where the amps buzz, the guitars let loose, the fevers rise, and couples on the dance floor are drawn closer while storms rage outside. Think Ike & Tina Turner, Andre Williams, and all the nearly anonymous heroes of the juke-joint blues. Here - Robert Finley is one of them, a street musician and Saturday night struggler returning to his roots on this joyful album. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

On 19 June 2006, someone called Taylor Swift released her first single, Tim McGraw, a straightforward homage to the country singer of the same name. She was only 17 and stood out as a potential future queen of country pop... A good decade later, queen she is: but of pop tout court! The Disney cowgirl getup is gone, replaced by the pop R&B icon who has conquered the heights of the charts, but who, above all, has been able to impose her style and her writing as a canonical part of the modern genre. With Reputation, her royal crown never threatens to fall from her head. On the contrary. With this sixth album, Taylor Swift certainly has not equalled 1989, her most accomplished record released in 2014, though she confirms that she is to her times what Madonna was to the 80s and 90s. Really, it should be enjoyed for what it is: great pop, with catchy choruses, pumped–up production (the Swedish pairing of Max Martin/Shellback as well as the American Jack Antonoff are in charge here) and her autobiographical lyrics which juggle with looove, liiife, fruuustration, saaadness, haaappiness, etc. Here, Taylor Swift unburdens her soul, in particular about how the limelight can burn, especially on Call It What You Want where she explains that she isn't what she's said to be… this saccharine orgy concludes with an even more melancholy piano ballad, New Year’s Day. We leave Reputation realising that the star has pulled clearly away ahead of Katy Perry, Lady Gaga and Miley Cyrus. © CM/Qobuz

At a time when many contemporary country artists were seemingly trying to be anything but — layering on pop, rap or reggae — Chris Stapleton comfortably settled into the past. Straight from the title-track opener, the Kentucky singer-songwriter sounds like the lost member of the outlaw movement of the ’70s: earthy, road-weary and, as he sings, "nowhere-bound." (He also nods directly at his roots on the swampy “Outlaw State of Mind.”) Despite the tough-guy name, those men were romantics, and Stapleton's tender-hearted side shows up in the form of regret and resignation, as on the Southern-rock spitfire "Nobody to Blame" and barroom waltz "Fire Away.” The latter, like much of the record, is richly imbued with the haunted-angel backing vocals of Morgane Stapleton, the singer's wife. If there's another special guest here, it's whiskey — both his devil and salve — which appears in five of the album's 14 songs, including the barfly swoon “Tennessee Whiskey,” first made famous by George Jones. As Stapleton rasps in the breathtakingly spare "Whiskey and You," "I drink because I'm lonesome and I'm lonesome because I drink." It's the perfect album for Saturday night and Sunday morning. © Qobuz

There are several Michael Jackson greatest-hits compilations out there, each one its own take on what should be the definitive portrait of the gloved one's career. The Ultimate Collection, The Essential Collection (different from the one here), and Number Ones have all surfaced in 2003 and 2004, and HIStory a few years prior. Each one of these collections, while commendable in its attempt to thoroughly document Jackson's accomplishments, has fallen woefully short in one aspect or another. This has finally been rectified with this installment of Sony's outstanding Essential collection. Starting with his campaign with his brothers in the Jackson 5, this two-disc set tours through every important single and every important fan favorite short of including his duet with Paul McCartney on "Say Say Say" (the Beatle does, however, make an appearance here on "The Girl Is Mine"). From Off the Wall to Dangerous, it's all here in one concise package, making it the ideal reference point from which exploration into his deeper catalog can begin. While die-hard fans will already have every single song contained herein and may be weary to purchase another greatest-hits compilation short of a greatest-hits compilation including his backing vocals on Rockwell's "Somebody's Watching Me," this may be the only one fans and casual listeners will ever have to purchase to get their fill of the King of Pop's magic.© Rob Theakston /TiVo

As fatiguing as it is invigorating, as cold-blooded as it is heart-rending, as haphazardly splattered as it is meticulously sculpted, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is an extraordinarily complex 70-minute set of songs. Listening to it, much like saying or typing its title, is a laborious process. In some ways, it's the culmination of Kanye West's first four albums, but it does not merely draw characteristics from each one of them. The 13 tracks, eight of which are between five and nine minutes in length, sometimes fuse them together simultaneously. Consequently, the sonic and emotional layers are often difficult to pry apart and enumerate. Nothing exemplifies its contrasting elements and maniacal extravagance as much as "All of the Lights." Rattling, raw, synthetic toms are embellished with brass, woodwinds, and strings. It’s a celebration of fame ("Fast cars, shooting stars") and a lament of its consequences ("Restraining order/Can't see my daughter"). Its making involved 42 people, including not one but two French horn players and over a dozen high-profile vocalists, only some of which are perceptible. At once, the song features one of the year's most rugged beats while supplying enough opulent detail to make Late Registration collaborator Jon Brion's head spin. "Blame Game" chills more than anything off 808s & Heartbreak. Sullen solo-piano Aphex Twin plays beneath morose cello; with a chorus from John Legend, a dejected, embittered West -- whose voice toggles between naturally clear-sounding and ominously pitched-down as it pans back and forth -- tempers wistfully-written, maliciously-delivered lines like "Been a long time since I spoke to you in a bathroom, ripping you up, fuckin' and chokin' you" with untreated and distinctively pained confessions like "I can't love you this much." The contrast in "Devil in a New Dress," featuring Rick Ross, is of a different sort; a throwback soul production provided by the Smokey Robinson-sampling Bink, it's as gorgeous as any of West's own early work, yet it's marred by an aimless instrumental stretch, roughly 90 seconds in length, that involves some incongruent electric guitar flame-out. Even less explicable is the last third of the nine-minute "Runaway," when West blows into a device and comes out sounding something like a muffled, bristly version of Robert Fripp's guitar. The only thing that remains unchanged is West's lyrical accuracy; for every rhyme that stuns, there's one deserving of mockery from any given contestant off the The White Rapper Show. As the ego and ambition swells, so does the appeal, the repulsiveness, and -- most importantly -- the ingenuity. Whether loved or loathed, fully enjoyed or merely admired, this album should be regarded as a deeply fascinating accomplishment.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

Mammoth WVH is the eponymous first solo effort from Wolfgang Van Halen, son of six-string legend Eddie Van Halen and the bassist for Van Halen for the last 14 years of their existence. Combining elements of metal, grunge, alternative, and hard rock, the 14-track LP includes the single "Distance," which was written as a tribute to his late father, who passed away in 2020.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

English listeners went mad for Katie Melua with the release of her debut album in late 2003. Issued domestically in June 2004, Call Off the Search posits the lovely Melua pristinely in between pop, adult contemporary, and traditional American musical forms, with savvy marketing handling the finishing touches. (Think Norah Jones.) It's a comfortable, lightly melodic affair that drinks red wine safely in the middle of the road. Raised in Soviet Georgia and the United Kingdom, Melua has a beguiling accent that colors the ends of her phrases, adding character to her velvety, if occasionally only satisfactory singing voice. She has a nice time with the understated R&B sashay of John Mayall's "Crawling Up a Hill," as well as Mike Batt's "My Aphrodisiac Is You," which is spiced up with barrelhouse piano, muted trumpet, and sly references to opium and the Kama Sutra. The singer's own "Belfast (Penguins and Cats)" opens nicely with a few measures of solo acoustic guitar before it's joined by the orchestral maneuvers that sweep through the majority of Call Off the Search's after-dark cabaret. (Melua also penned a dedication to Eva Cassidy, who she's been compared to vocally.) While the instrumentation is never overbearing, a stoic version of Randy Newman's "I Think It's Going to Rain Today" and a couple of late-album pop vocal entries do dawdle a bit in the soft-focus halo that hovers over Search's more easygoing stretches. These selections are perfectly capable, yet pretty obvious, as if the decision was made to sprinkle Melua's debut equally with safety and variety, in case a particular style didn't stick. Still, despite a few detours down easy street, Call Off the Search is a promising debut, and comfortable like the first drink of the evening.© Johnny Loftus /TiVo

It’s a late christmas present from Post Malone (extremely late). Beerbongs & Bentleys has arrived 4 months after it’s original scheduled release date of December, with the artist needing more time to perfect the record. And it’s worth the wait, as the jam packed LP has a star studded line up, with Nicki Minaj, Ty Dolla $ign and G-Eazy among the featured names. It’s 18 tracks in total, including the smash hits Rockstar (alongside Kanye West’s prodigy 21 Savage) and Psycho, with the latter garnering Post his first number one single in the US. The album as a whole is Post doing what he does best, auto-tuned vocals that flow like a meandering river over wavy synths and trap 808’s. However, unlike his debut album Stoney (2016), he has added some live drums to the mix (Over Now), as well as a more acoustic track with  Stay. Tracks like Paranoid, Rich & Sad and Over Now show Malone’s vulnerability despite the money and the fame but the predominant themes of modern day Hip-Hop are evidently overriding on this LP. Post is a master of creating catchy hooks that can be listened to in any setting and after infiltrating the airwaves with his breakout tune White Iverson (2015), he hasn’t looked back since. He’s the modern day Rockstar!  © Aidan Nickerson/ Qobuz

Time has been good to Bonnie Raitt. At 72, she sounds great—and as strong as ever. The California roots-rock queen has said she wanted to try new styles on her 21st album, but there are no wild U-turns here. When she adopts a little Lyle Lovett jazziness on "Something's Got a Hold of My Heart"—accented by Glenn Patscha's seesaw piano and her own slow-hand guitar—she sounds like Nick of Time era Bonnie Raitt. Ditto the sexy, funky blues rock number "Waitin' for You to Blow," with its cocksure rhythm and a killer Hammond solo by Patscha. The whole thing sashays, and Raitt delivers the title line in a whispered growl that really belies her years. She plays around with R&B—heavy on the blues guitar—on the terrific "Made Up Mind," and tries on a little New Orleans street jazz sass for "Love So Strong." Her voice is so perfectly suited for the Dylan-esque ballad "Just Like That," about a man who died too young but donated his heart to save someone else's life. Told from the stricken perspective of his parents as they meet the man with their son's heart, she brings incredibly rich empathy to the story: "They say Jesus brings you peace and grace/ but he ain't found me yet," Raitt sings at first. Then, "I spent so long in darkness/ I thought the night would never end/ But somehow grace has found me/ and I had to let him in." There's a similar feel to "Down the Hall," a John Prine-like story song with the narrator finding redemption and hoping for good karma by caring for hospice patients—taking care of a dying stranger who has no one, washing his feet, shaving his bony head. Raitt, who has been making records for more than 50 years, is unafraid to face mortality on Just LIke That; it's a running theme, but matter-of-fact and in no way depressing. In fact, "Livin' for the Ones"—"Keep livin' for the ones who didn't make it/ Cut down through no fault of their own"—is absolutely alive with spitfire energy, a juke-joint blues rocker led by Raitt's ferocious guitar. "Just remember the ones who won't ever feel the sun on their faces again," she sings, and it feels like a jubilant rallying cry. She even makes amends on the Sunday-morning gospel blues of "Blame it On Me," drawing it out like taffy before she finally hits a high note of salvation and shifts the blame: "Ooooh, gonna blame it on you!" (After all, the clock's not stopped yet.) Raitt also sounds completely relaxed and like she's having a ball on "Here Comes Love"— a little bit of funk, a little jazz piano, a little street percussion. "Chicken 'n' dumplings that's all it's gonna take/ Just to make you stay for the ice cream cake" are the words of a woman who hasn't lost a beat. ©Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Having been cleared earlier in the year in another lawsuit concerning the supposedly suicide-inducing subject matter of his music, Ozzy Osbourne reinvigorated his sound and expanded his following with his sixth studio album, No More Tears, in the fall of 1991. Finding more sympathetic producers in Duane Baron and John Purdell to replace Roy Thomas Baker (who had helmed his last effort, 1988's No Rest for the Wicked), collaborating with Lemmy Kilmister of Motörhead on four songs, and retaining the services of guitarist Zakk Wylde, Osbourne brought his music into the '90s. Songs like "Desire" and "S.I.N." had an energetic, contemporary metal sound, and Osbourne effectively changed gears to turn out gentle ballads like "Mama, I'm Coming Home," which gave him his first U.S. Top 40 hit on his own. Not cowed by his court cases, he wrote songs about child abuse ("Mr. Tinkertrain") and serial murder ("No More Tears") from the point of view of the criminals. But he also considered his own place in the general scheme of things in the tribute to the rock & roll lifestyle "Hellraiser" and the reflective "Road to Nowhere." It all made for an unusually broad range of material, and the album returned him to the Top Ten and multi-platinum status.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

Elvis Costello was as much a pub rocker as he was a punk rocker and nowhere is that more evident than on his debut, My Aim Is True. It's not just that Clover, a San Franciscan rock outfit led by Huey Lewis (absent here), back him here, not the Attractions; it's that his sensibility is borrowed from the pile-driving rock & roll and folksy introspection of pub rockers like Brinsley Schwarz, adding touches of cult singer/songwriters like Randy Newman and David Ackles. Then, there's the infusion of pure nastiness and cynical humor, which is pure Costello. That blend of classicist sensibilities and cleverness make this collection of shiny roots rock a punk record -- it informs his nervy performances and his prickly songs. Of all classic punk debuts, this remains perhaps the most idiosyncratic because it's not cathartic in sound, only in spirit. Which, of course, meant that it could play to a broader audience, and Linda Ronstadt did indeed cover the standout ballad "Alison." Still, there's no mistaking this for anything other than a punk record, and it's a terrific one at that, since even if he buries his singer/songwriter inclinations, they shine through as brightly as his cheerfully mean humor and immense musical skill; he sounds as comfortable with a '50s knockoff like "No Dancing" as he does on the reggae-inflected "Less Than Zero." Costello went on to more ambitious territory fairly quickly, but My Aim Is True is a phenomenal debut, capturing a songwriter and musician whose words were as rich and clever as his music.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Once Nat King Cole gave up playing piano on a regular basis and instead focused on a series of easy listening vocal albums, jazz fans longed for him to return to his first love. These 1956 studio sessions made up Cole's last jazz-oriented disc, where he played piano and sang on every number, joined by several guest soloists. Cole's vocals are impeccable and swinging, while his piano alternates between providing subdued backgrounds and light solos that don't reveal his true potential on the instrument. Willie Smith's smooth alto sax buoys the singer in the brisk take of "Just You, Just Me." Harry "Sweets" Edison's muted trumpet complements the leader in his interpretation of "Sweet Lorraine." Composer Juan Tizol's valve trombone and former Cole sideman Jack Costanzo's bongos add just the right touch to the brisk take of "Caravan." Stuff Smith's humorous, unusually understated violin is a nice touch in "When I Grow Too Old to Dream." It's hard for any Nat King Cole fan to ignore these important sessions. [The original version of this release featured a dozen tracks, later expanded to 17 in the '80s with the discovery of some unreleased material. Yet another track, the alternate take of "You're Looking at Me," was also found and added to reissues beginning in the late '90s.]© Ken Dryden /TiVo

Monster is indeed R.E.M.'s long-promised "rock" album; it just doesn't rock in the way one might expect. Instead of R.E.M.'s trademark anthemic bashers, Monster offers a set of murky sludge, powered by the heavily distorted and delayed guitar of Peter Buck. Michael Stipe's vocals have been pushed to the back of the mix, along with Bill Berry's drums, which accentuates the muscular pulse of Buck's chords. From the androgynous sleaze of "Crush With Eyeliner" to the subtle, Eastern-tinged menace of "You," most of the album sounds dense, dirty, and grimy, which makes the punchy guitars of "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?" and the warped soul of "Tongue" all the more distinctive. Monster doesn't have the conceptual unity or consistently brilliant songwriting of Automatic for the People, but it does offer a wide range of sonic textures that have never been heard on an R.E.M. album before. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Dream Into Action begins with Howard Jones singing "Things Can Only Get Better," a sentiment that only hints at the good vibes touted by the synth pop singer on his second album. On his debut, 1984's Human's Lib, Jones sang about positivity, but this sequel plays like a self-empowerment manifesto, filled with cautionary tales and anthems of hope. "No One Is to Blame," a cavernous ballad of encouragement which was given a hit revision with the assistance of Phil Collins, exemplifies the latter but it doesn't typify the album, which trades in peppy pop tunes of self-actualization, best represented by the chipper hits "Things Can Only Get Better" and "Life in One Day." Synthesizers retain their place in the spotlight but Dream Into Action doesn't feel like a synth pop album, not in the way the sleekly electronic Human's Lib did. Instead, this is a big, bright album that epitomizes the sound of the mainstream in the mid-'80s, a time when computers worked overtime to disguise themselves as human sounds. And that's why Dream Into Action is, in many ways, the apotheosis of Howard Jones' career: he'd yet to drift into softened adult contemporary, and he still had enthusiasm for his hooks, his machines, and his positivity, the very things that distinguished him from the legions of synth poppers in the mid-'80s. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo