What does a shrug sound like? On "Don't Know Why,” the opening track of her debut effort, Norah Jones suggests a few possibilities. The first time she sings the title phrase, she gives it a touch of indifference, the classic tossed-off movie-star shrug. Her tone shifts slightly when she hits the chorus, to convey twinges of sadness; here the casual phrasing could be an attempt to shake off a sharp memory. Later, she shrugs in a way that conveys resignation, possibly regret—she's replaying a scene, trying to understand what happened. Those shrugs and shadings, tools deployed by every jazz vocalist of the 1950s, are inescapable throughout Come Away With Me—in part because everything surrounding Jones' voice is so chill. There's room for her to emote, and room for gently cresting piano and organ chords. Unlike so many of her contemporaries, Jones knows instinctively how much (or how little!) singer the song needs. The secret of this record, which came out when Jones was 22, is its almost defiant approachability: It is calm, and open, and gentle, music for a lazy afternoon in a porch swing. As transfixing covers of Hank Williams' "Cold Cold Heart” and Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You” make clear, Jones thinks about contours and shadows when she sings; her storytelling depends as much on the scene and the atmosphere as the narrative. And Jones applies the same understatement to the original songs here, which weave together elements of country, pop, jazz and torch balladry in inventive ways. It's one thing to render an old tune with modern cleverness, a skill Jones had honed as a solo pianist/singer before she was discovered. It's quite another to transform an original tune, like Jesse Harris' "Don't Know Why,” into something that sounds ageless and eternal, like a standard. Jones does that, over and over, using just shrugs and implications, rarely raising her voice much above a whisper. © Tom Moon/Qobuz

Carly Rae Jepsen was nearly a victim of her own success. Her breakthrough single "Call Me Maybe" wasn't just big -- it was one of 2012's definitive songs, with a presence so massive that it overshadowed just how good Kiss, the album that housed it, was. After taking time to regroup, Jepsen returns with E-MO-TION, another set of songs that are better than the average Top 40 hit. While nothing here is as instantly striking as "Call Me Maybe," the album gives the impulsive sweetness of her big hit some perspective. If Kiss was the sound of first love and first heartbreak, then E-MO-TION captures how heady the ups and downs of crushes can be the third or fourth time around. For every head-over-heels declaration like "Run Away with Me," there's a song such as "I Really Like You," a smaller-scale outburst where Jepsen acknowledges "this isn't love." This sophistication extends to the music; where Kiss suggested several potential directions, E-MO-TION presents a more unified front. A-list songwriters and producers including Sia, Devonté Hynes, Ariel Rechtshaid, Shellback, and Greg Kurstin help her focus Kiss' effervescence into a cohesive sound that is somehow even more '80s-influenced. The slap bass and crystalline synths on "All That" turn it into a seemingly long-lost slow jam, while Rechtshaid's unabashedly glossy production on "When I Needed You" reflects how big an impact his work with HAIM had on the 2010s pop landscape. Jepsen gets more adventurous on the album's second half, teaming with Sia to bring newfound drama to "Making the Most of the Night" and with Rostam Batmanglij and Tegan and Sara on "Warm Blood," one of E-MO-TION's most contemporary-sounding tracks. Jepsen said she drew inspiration for the album from Cyndi Lauper and Robyn, both of whom excel at sounding exuberant and yearning at the same time. Like those artists, Jepsen is at her finest when she lets her sparkly facades crumble a little with vulnerable lyrics. The excellent "Your Type" is so deftly self-deprecating and catchy that it could actually be a Robyn song, while the title track and "Boy Problems" capture longing and heartache in ways that feel like they were written for everyone's inner junior high schooler. An even stronger album than Kiss, E-MO-TION's equally stylish and earnest songs helped establish Jepsen as one of the most consistently winning pop artists of the 2010s© Heather Phares /TiVo

What does a shrug sound like? On "Don't Know Why,” the opening track of her debut effort, Norah Jones suggests a few possibilities. The first time she sings the title phrase, she gives it a touch of indifference, the classic tossed-off movie-star shrug. Her tone shifts slightly when she hits the chorus, to convey twinges of sadness; here the casual phrasing could be an attempt to shake off a sharp memory. Later, she shrugs in a way that conveys resignation, possibly regret—she's replaying a scene, trying to understand what happened. Those shrugs and shadings, tools deployed by every jazz vocalist of the 1950s, are inescapable throughout Come Away With Me—in part because everything surrounding Jones' voice is so chill. There's room for her to emote, and room for gently cresting piano and organ chords. Unlike so many of her contemporaries, Jones knows instinctively how much (or how little!) singer the song needs. The secret of this record, which came out when Jones was 22, is its almost defiant approachability: It is calm, and open, and gentle, music for a lazy afternoon in a porch swing. As transfixing covers of Hank Williams' "Cold Cold Heart” and Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You” make clear, Jones thinks about contours and shadows when she sings; her storytelling depends as much on the scene and the atmosphere as the narrative. And Jones applies the same understatement to the original songs here, which weave together elements of country, pop, jazz and torch balladry in inventive ways. It's one thing to render an old tune with modern cleverness, a skill Jones had honed as a solo pianist/singer before she was discovered. It's quite another to transform an original tune, like Jesse Harris' "Don't Know Why,” into something that sounds ageless and eternal, like a standard. Jones does that, over and over, using just shrugs and implications, rarely raising her voice much above a whisper. © Tom Moon/Qobuz

In the year of his 90th birthday (which he would have celebrated on the 23rd of September 2020 had he not died in 2004), Ray Charles is honoured with a new 90-track compilation box set. Just another compilation like all the rest? Yes and no. Ray Charles is undoubtedly one of the most-compiled artists in the history of music. Published by Tangerine, the label that the musician set up at the end of the 50s to keep the rights to his songs, this box set starts out like all the others: with the post-Atlantic hits, Georgia On My Mind, Hit The Road Jack, One Mint Julep, Busted... These are timeless treasures of proto-soul, but there doesn't seem to be much novelty here. The rest is much more interesting, and much rarer: tracks recorded between the second half of the 1960s and the 2000s, many of which were only released on vinyl, never reissued on CD and until now unavailable on digital. This is the first time that Ray Charles' lesser-known years have been given the compilation treatment in this way, and it is a revelation. In the 90s and 2000s, the production of his songs had a synthetic feel, and they did not age too well. These rarer songs are often hidden gems of southern soul, flavoured with country and wrapped in sumptuous symphonic orchestrations. Whether he is singing the Muppets (It's Ain't Easy Being Green) or Gershwin (Summertime, a duet with Cleo Laine), Ray Charles is always deeply moving. Now, the dream is to hear reissues of all these albums in their entirety. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

Constructed around a light-hearted travel theme, Come Fly With Me, Frank Sinatra's first project with arranger Billy May, was a breezy change of pace from the somber Where Are You. From the first swinging notes of Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen's "Come Fly With Me" -- which is written at Sinatra's request -- it's clear that the music on the collection is intended to be fun. Over the course of the album, Sinatra and May travel around the world in song, performing standards like "Moonlight in Vermont" and "April in Paris," as well as humorous tunes like "Isle of Capri" and "On the Road to Mandalay." May's signature bold, brassy arrangements give these songs a playful, carefree, nearly sarcastic feel, but never is the approach less than affectionate. In fact, Come Fly With Me is filled with varying moods and textures, as it moves from boisterous swing numbers to romantic ballads, and hitting any number of emotions in between. There may be greater albums in Sinatra's catalog, but few are quite as fun as Come Fly With Me.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

There are four sessions collected on 2021's The BBC Sessions, each held at BBC's Maida Vale Studio during Green Day's remarkable run in the 1990s. The first dates from June 1994, just after the band released Dookie. Here, the trio sound loud, precise, and slightly polite; it's as if they're still getting used to operating on a larger stage. By the time they held their second BBC Session in November 1996, nearly a year after the release of Insomniac, they sound rougher and wilder, particularly on the "Brain Stew/Jaded" performance. That attitude carries over to the third session, given in February 1998, a few months after Nimrod hit the stores. The 1998 set finds Green Day honing their precision attack, then the last session, given in August 2001, nearly a year after the release of Warning, captures a group in the thick of rethinking their approach; they retain their power but sharpen their songwriting chops. Taken together, The BBC Sessions emphasizes both the connective threads and creative evolution of Green Day during the first act of their career, which makes it a worthy historical document in addition to a first-rate live album.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The daughter of the popular late R&B singer Donny, husky voiced Lalah Hathaway is the perfect foil for Joe Sample's compelling notion that The Song Lives On. Finding a happy medium between the graceful straight-ahead jazz trio vibe of his Invitation album and the plucky pop energy of Spellbound, Sample provides Hathaway on seven of the 11 tunes with a showcase for her sultry approach. His and Bill Shnee's production approach is generally sparse, not much more than piano and bass, enhanced on occasion by Fender Rhodes and the occasional smoky input of Kirk Whalum. Sample doesn't seem to mind playing second fiddle most of the time, his trademark mix of dark chords and dancing, optimistic improvisations forming harmony lines behind her; often, though, his itchiness to step higher into the mix comes clear and he breaks into extended upbeat improvisations. On a cover of his Crusaders hit "Street Life," Hathaway turns the title into a mantra and Sample echoes her sentiments with sharp, percussive reiterations of the song's main melody. Then Hathaway stops and Michael Thompson steps in with some edgy electric guitar lines. Other song choices range from reverent takes on standards like "Fever" and "For All We Know" to vocal versions of older, well-known Sample instrumental hits; for example, with Norman Gimbel's cheery lyrics, Hathaway turns the once moody "All God's Children" into a life-affirming love song. The point seeming to be, in finding new life for both his old material and the classics, Sample is bringing a form of immortality to favorite songs. © Jonathan Widran /TiVo

As a marketing concept, Frank Sinatra's comeback album Duets was a complete success. A collection of Sinatra standards produced by Phil Ramone, the record wasn't a duets album in the conventional sense -- Sinatra never recorded in the studio with his partners. Instead, the other singers recorded their tracks separately, sometimes in different studios, and the two tracks were pasted together to create the illusion of a duet. In the case of several duet partners, including Bono and Barbara Streisand, this means they rely on camp as a way of making their performances interesting. Sinatra, meanwhile, is oblivious to all of the vocal grandstanding, simply because he recorded his tracks well in advance of their contributions. The result is a mess. Not only do the vocalists never mesh, but the orchestrations are ham-fisted and overblown, relying more on bombast than showmanship. Furthermore, Sinatra's performance is uneven; occasionally his voice is remarkable, but just as often it is thin and worn. Nevertheless, Duets was a gigantic hit, selling over two million copies and becoming Sinatra's single most commercially successful record, though it's easily the worst he released during his lengthy career. Duets rose to number two on the pop charts because of its masterful marketing strategy. The album was promoted as a piece of nostalgia, primarily to baby boomers but also to Generation X as a piece of kitsch. Both approaches ignore the emotional core of Sinatra's music, which is evident on only one track -- "One for My Baby," which was essentially a solo performance introduced by an instrumental from saxophonist Kenny G. Perhaps if Duets remained true to the essence of Sinatra's music, it would have been more effective, but as it stands, the album is only admirable as a piece of product, not a piece of music.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Geffen/Decca/Chronicles' 2005 release Gold is a retitled reissue of the 1993 double-disc set The Buddy Holly Collection, bearing different artwork but the same liner notes. Given the reluctance of MCA to release a CD version of the complete Buddy Holly recordings (due to either legal issues or a skepticism of its commercial worth), this set -- whether in its Gold incarnation or as The Buddy Holly Collection -- stands as the most comprehensive and greatest CD-era retrospective of the legendary rock & roller. Though it contains all the big hits, this is not the place to turn if you're only looking for "That'll Be the Day," "Not Fade Away," "Everyday," "Oh Boy!," "Peggy Sue," "Maybe Baby," "Rave On," "Well All Right," and "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" -- they're all here, but they don't start unrolling until track 15 on the first disc. No, this collection is for listeners who know the hits but need more; namely, they need proof that Holly was one of the greatest, most inventive artists in the first wave of rock & roll, which this collection certainly illustrates, through its selection of lesser-known sides that showcase both his wild-man rockabilly ways and his sensitive songwriting. If the set takes a little while to get going -- it kicks off with the dynamite "Down the Line," but then the collection, and Holly, take a little while to find a groove -- there are also no bum tracks here, and taken as a whole, Buddy's gifts as a songwriter and a rocker are staggering. Until the complete box is finally issued on CD, this will have to stand as the most comprehensive Holly collection on CD, and as such, it's absolutely necessary for anybody who loves American music of the 20th century.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

More than eight and a half hours of music! Bobby Gentry absolutely deserves such a generous celebration, even though her glory years only really lasted about a decade. Retiring in the early 1980s into total anonymity, this great voice of the 1960s and 1970s is presented here in a deluxe selection. Across 8 records, 177 tracks are brought together: her six studio albums for Capitol (Ode to Billie Joe from 1967, The Delta Sweete and Local Gentry from 1968, Touch ‘Em With Love from 1969, Fancy from 1970 and  Patchwork from 1971), the record she made with Glen Campbell in 1968 and over 70 unreleased tracks including alternative takes, demos, BBC live recordings and all kinds of rarities! Hidden behind the mystery of her premature retirement and the cult following which has only grown with time remain these songs. Bobbie Gentry was more than just a simple country, folk and pop singer like so many others of her generation. Only Bobby could’ve written hits like Mornin' Glory, Fancy, Okolona River Bottom Band, Chickasaw County Child and most famous of all, covered the world over, Ode to Billie Joe, the fascinating story of the suicide of the mysterious Billie Joe McAllister who leapt from Tallahatchie Bridge. In France, Joe Dassin would go on to put a French spin on the song: Billie Joe became Marie-Jeanne and the Tallahatchie Bridge became the bridge over the Garonne…There is class, freedom and striking sensuality in Bobbie Gentry's voice. There are also brilliant arrangements and an instrumentation that line up perfectly with the songs, from slightly kitschy lounge strings (but they're so cool) to a simple guitar that clings to the contours of her voice. Bobbie Gentry was never fully country, fully pop, fully soul or fully folk. She was Bobbie Gentry. Full stop. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

With their third full-length outing, Impossible Weight, Seattle-based indie rock band Deep Sea Diver delve deeper into pain and emotional turmoil. Fronted by singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter Jessica Dobson, the quartet build upon the promise of 2016's Secrets, tightening the songcraft with satisfying results. Although she's faithfully backed by drummer Peter Mansen, bassist Garret Gue, and second guitarist Elliot Jackson, this is clearly the Dobson show. Facing depression, conflict, bad relationships, and much more, she gives an urgent and passionate performance, pushing her vocals and searing guitar work to new heights. From the scorching solos on tracks like "Switchblade" and "Hurricane" to the sprawling showcase that closes the epic "Eyes Are Red (Don't Be Afraid)," she employs her guitar as a proxy for the bloodletting, matching the intensity of her lyrics with standout moments that provide the best thrills on the album (even the stripped-down acoustics of "Run Away with Me" deliver the shivers). Additional highlights include the churning rock blast "Lights Out" -- which sounds like a collision between Radiohead and Silversun Pickups -- and the electric "Lightning Bolts," a disco-kissed synth showcase. Kindred spirit Sharon Van Etten also makes an appearance on the title track, a jagged duet between the two vocalist/guitarists that is as intense as it is vulnerable. While their sophomore set was great in its own right, Impossible Weight feels leagues ahead, an introspective maturation that allows for both reflection and catharsis. © Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Shirley Horn only recorded a few times early in her career before leaving music until her daughter was grown. This early date for Mercury, with little in the way of identified personnel, features arrangements by Billy Byers, Thad Jones, Don Sebesky, and Quincy Jones, though Horn is unfortunately only heard as a singer, even though she is listed as the pianist on the album cover. She excels throughout the sessions, but the arrangements tend to lean more toward pop than jazz, failing to take advantage of what is likely a crew of all-star horn soloists. Bobby Scott's piano playing is downright corny in "On the Street Where You Live" and "Mack the Knife," taking on more of a country flavor. Better tracks include "Come Dance With Me," and the slow, bluesy "After You've Gone." Long out of print, this album was finally reissued as one-half of a 1990 Verve CD compilation, though it has since been deleted as well.© Ken Dryden /TiVo

Constructed around a light-hearted travel theme, Come Fly With Me, Frank Sinatra's first project with arranger Billy May, was a breezy change of pace from the somber Where Are You. From the first swinging notes of Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen's "Come Fly With Me" -- which is written at Sinatra's request -- it's clear that the music on the collection is intended to be fun. Over the course of the album, Sinatra and May travel around the world in song, performing standards like "Moonlight in Vermont" and "April in Paris," as well as humorous tunes like "Isle of Capri" and "On the Road to Mandalay." May's signature bold, brassy arrangements give these songs a playful, carefree, nearly sarcastic feel, but never is the approach less than affectionate. In fact, Come Fly With Me is filled with varying moods and textures, as it moves from boisterous swing numbers to romantic ballads, and hitting any number of emotions in between. There may be greater albums in Sinatra's catalog, but few are quite as fun as Come Fly With Me.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Just in case the title One More for the Road didn't suggest Sinatra, Curtis Stigers underscores his debt to the Chairman of the Board by patterning the artwork for this 2017 collaboration with the Danish Radio Big Band after 1966's Sinatra at The Sands. In fact, One More for the Road is something of a salute to that 1966 record, containing eight songs from that double album and adhering to the snazzy swing of late-period Frank. Stigers even channels that sensibility into "Summer Wind," a gentle breeze of a single, and that's one of the distinguishing factors of One More for the Road. Another distinguishing factor is the cheerful blare of the Dutch Radio Big Band, who are big and brassy without overwhelming the singer. For his part, Stigers doesn't mimic Sinatra, appropriating just a bit of swagger -- and, sometimes, the arrangements -- but plays with his phrasing and alternates between crisp enunciation and elongated notes. This is enough to make One More for the Road something a bit different than a straight-up tribute to Ol' Blue Eyes because it shows how Stigers can hold his presence on-stage while sharing the spotlight with his idol. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Norah Jones' debut on Blue Note is a mellow, acoustic pop affair with soul and country overtones, immaculately produced by the great Arif Mardin. Jones is not quite a jazz singer, but she is joined by some highly regarded jazz talent: guitarists Adam Levy, Adam Rogers, Tony Scherr, Bill Frisell, and Kevin Breit; drummers Brian Blade, Dan Rieser, and Kenny Wollesen; organist Sam Yahel; accordionist Rob Burger; and violinist Jenny Scheinman. Her regular guitarist and bassist, Jesse Harris and Lee Alexander, respectively, play on every track and also serve as the chief songwriters. Both have a gift for melody, simple yet elegant progressions, and evocative lyrics. (Harris made an intriguing guest appearance on Seamus Blake's Stranger Things Have Happened.) Jones, for her part, wrote the title track and the pretty but slightly restless "Nightingale." She also includes convincing readings of Hank Williams' "Cold Cold Heart," J.D. Loudermilk's "Turn Me On," and Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You." There's a touch of Rickie Lee Jones in Jones' voice, a touch of Bonnie Raitt in the arrangements; her youth and her piano skills could lead one to call her an Alicia Keys for grown-ups. While the mood of this record stagnates after a few songs, it does give a strong indication of Jones' alluring talents. © David R. Adler /TiVo