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

Brandy Clark has had a hand in so many legacy-boosting songs: "Mama's Broken Heart" (Miranda Lambert), "Better Dig Two" (The Band Perry), "Biscuits" (Kacey Musgraves), to name just a few. "I'm a songwriter who also sings," she has said, echoing the ridiculous humility of Karen Carpenter saying she was just a drummer who also happened to sing. Clark's voice is magic—clear and warm and stirring something ineffable, free of "American Idol" frills and trills. While she's made some great records in the past, it took putting herself into the producer hands of that other great Brandi (Carlile, who lately has the Midas touch) to really position her voice front and center in the way it deserves. Tender and beautiful, "Buried" adds only guitar as Clark sings "If you don't want me/ If you're beyond me," her voice rising on each "if," tentative and questioning. It's also an incredible storytelling tool on the spare "Ain't Enough Rocks," about two sisters killing an abuser("a wolf in daddy's clothing") and dumping him in the river. Inspired by a line from Forrest Gump and lit by Derek Trucks' slow-burn guitar, the song is chilling, not giddy like the Chicks' "Goodbye Earl" or celebratory like Hardy's "Wait in the Truck." Carlile has said that hearing these songs "took me back to the first time I heard Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" by Lucinda Wiliams, and it's an apt line to draw. You can hear it in tracks like harmonica-kissed "Best Ones" and heat-hazy "Come Back to Me," with its excellent country chorus. Elsewhere, there are shades of 1980s Rosanne Cash in the epic "Northwest" (an ode to Clark and Carlile's native Washington State) and smooth and easy "All Over Again," which gets dressed up with soulful Honkettes-style harmony. Frequent Carlile collaborators Lucius suavely harmonize on "Tell Her You Don't Love Her." And Clark and Carlile duet on "Dear Insecurity," a piano ballad that pulls out all the stops—weeping strings, heartbreaking melody—but finds Carlile appropriately reining in the knockout power of her own voice. Placing the two perfectly side by side, it's a stunner. And Clark, who knows her way around a bitingly clever verse, gets every little detail right on "She Smoked in the House," a funny yet heartfelt tribute to her grandmother: "She smoked in the house/ Burnt holes in the couch/ Lipstick-circled butts in the ashtray/ She saved in Folders cans/ Swore credit was a scam/ Bought everything at Sears on layaway ... And I hate cigarettes/ But I miss all that smoke." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Never underestimate Cher. Somehow this unstoppable chanteuse, who has been making solo albums since 1965, had never released a Christmas album until now. In typical Cher fashion, it's a glossy, super-produced session that covers all the styles she's mastered over the years, while also cannily touching some familiar bases of Christmas music. The splashy, catchy by-the-numbers dancefloor filler, "DJ Play a Christmas Song," a creation of six songwriters, rightly puts her booming vocals front and center. Darlene Love, Stevie Wonder, Michael Bublé Cyndi Lauper and Tyga are an impressive guest list with each appearing on a track. While the Tyga and downbeat Bublé tracks are forgettable, Stevie Wonder adds a trademark harmonica solo and a heartfelt laugh to "What Christmas Means to Me." Opening with the bells heard in the original version, Cher leans into a bravura take of Charles Brown's classic blues plea, "Please Come Home for Christmas." She slays another early classic, digging into "Run Rudolph Run," proving again that she has few equals as a pop singer as she deftly swings through Chuck Berry's brilliant lyrics: "Said Santa to a girl child, 'What would please you most to get?'/ 'A little baby doll that can cry, sleep, drink and wet'/ And then away went Rudolph, he was whizzin' like a Saber jet." A convincing replica of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound hovers around "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" which features Darlene Love, who sang lead on the gold standard 1963 version on Spector's nonpareil A Christmas Gift for You.  Cher gives a credible run at Eartha Kitt's slinky hit, "Santa Babyn" and a cover of The Zombies "This Will Be Our Year," is an effective, non-seasonal closer. Hitting many of the right notes with plenty of sparkle, Cher's first Christmas outing is an instant classic.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

Perhaps a bit more conscious of contemporary soul trends than her previous Philips albums, this is still very characteristic of her mid-'60s work in its eclectic mix of jazz, pop, soul, and some blues and gospel. Hal Mooney directs some large band arrangements for the material on this LP without submerging Simone's essential strengths. The more serious and introspective material is more memorable than the good-natured pop selections here. The highlights are her energetic vocal rendition of the Oscar Brown/Nat Adderley composition "Work Song" and her spiritual composition "Come Ye," on which Simone's inspirational vocals are backed by nothing other than minimal percussion.© Richie Unterberger /TiVo

The soul music of the 21st century has sometimes had the unfortunate tendency to prioritise analog production techniques in order to bring about a revival, losing sight of making beautiful music. Jalen Ngonda, on the other hand, isn’t faking it. His first album, released on Daptone Records and entitled Come Around and Love Me, presents itself as a magnificent time machine. A contemporary dive into authentic Motown sound, we hear the formulae that brought in the golden age of the genre in the 70s, the bright congas that gave rhythm to Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On,” the guitar riffs that Isaac Hayes refines terrifically, and that high voice singing about love and its torments, crooning about pleas of the heart, the album’s main theme. Come Around and Love Me is a superb record, where the musicians seem to fade into the background in order to completely lend themselves to the lead performer, who takes up the space and shines. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

John Lennon’s Gimme Some Truth, an extensive 4-disc compilation album, was released in 2010. Is the Autumn 2020 version an anniversary re-release? Has the music industry got to the stage where it just reissues compilations every ten years? No, not quite. This version actually celebrates Lennon’s 80th birthday (he was born on the 9th October 1940) and it’s more sober than the one from ten years ago. We find 36 songs that embody Lennon’s work - 36 candles that have lit up the lives of several generations. From Instant Karma and Angela to Power To The People, God and (of course) Imagine, all the classics are there. There are no unreleased tracks, the real novelty comes from the sound. Taken from The Beatles’ catalogue, these songs have been heavily reworked, remixed, rearranged and remastered. The sound is undoubtedly fuller, brighter and more precise. Die-hard fans might be annoyed (and perhaps rightly so) by this post-mortem facelift. Why change a sound to which we have always been accustomed, and which bears witness to such an era? But look past this and you’ll see a whole new world – one with more colours and expression. Everyone will at least agree on one thing: Lennon’s sentimental, troubled and political songs are still as relevant today as they were forty-five years ago. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

Perhaps Tori Amos didn't intentionally whittle her audience down to merely the rabidly devoted ever since Boys for Pele, but it sure seemed that way with the deliberately abstract arrangements, double albums, and cover records. That devoted cult may be all that pay attention to Scarlet's Walk, her first album for Epic, but it marks a return to the sound and feel of Under the Pink and is her best album since then. Much was made at the time of release about its concept -- conceived as a journey through modern womanhood, when Tori herself journeyed through each state in the union -- but following the narrative is secondary to the feel of the music, which is warm, melodic, and welcoming, never feeling labored as so much of her last four albums often did. This doesn't mean it's an altogether easy listen: an intensive listen reveals layers of pain and an uneasiness murmuring underneath the surface, but it's delivered reassuringly, in croons and lush arrangements that nevertheless are filled with quirks, making it both comforting and provocative. Which, of course, is what Tori Amos delivered in her early years. If this isn't as startling as Little Earthquakes or majestic as Under the Pink, so be it. It's confident, alluring, and accomplished, luring listeners in instead of daring them to follow. And, frankly, it's a relief that she finally delivered another record like that.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

After the 20th anniversary edition of In Utero seemed to empty the vaults by including not just a remastered version of the original album as released, but also discarded track mixes by Scott Litt and Steve Albini, as well as the latter’s "from a different angle" mix of the entire album, it's hard to imagine what sonic treasures could be packed into a new version a decade later. And while many fans will head straight for the pair of full-set live shows that make up the bulk of this edition's tracklisting, one would be ill-advised to sleep on the version of the actual album that's included here. Yes, it's yet another remaster, but in this case the work has been done by Bob Weston, who not only brings decades of experience recording, mixing, and mastering your favorite indie rock bands (everyone from Sebadoh and Polvo to Chavez and Archers of Loaf), but he was also Albini's assistant engineer during the In Utero sessions. Even more notably for this remaster, Weston was able to work with the original analog master tapes, resulting in an exceptional presentation of an album that has always seemed too brawny and bristly to fit into any standard musical delivery device. Weston brings a full-bodied warmth to the material that does nothing to tamp down the splenetic intensity of this intentionally abrasive album, but somehow gives it even more emotional impact. Similarly, Seattle studio legend Jack Endino (who produced Bleach) was brought on to mix and master the live material from soundboard tapes. While Weston was able to harness the crackling warmth of the album tracks, Endino goes straight for maximum impact on the live material, giving the two shows—one in L.A. at the beginning of the In Utero tour, and the other in Seattle for the band's final show in that city—an absolutely explosive presence. The well-rounded mix of the live material gives the performances plenty of dynamics and a surprising amount of clarity, whether it's the plinky-plonky intro of "Milk It" in Seattle giving way to bass-heavy riffing or the clanging garage groove of "About a Girl" in Los Angeles. While it's a fool's errand to deem a release such as this as a "definitive" one, the combination of Weston's remarkable remaster with two incredible-sounding concerts from the era (plus all the released b-sides from the album) makes a strong case for this edition being exactly that ... at least until the next big anniversary. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Tom Waits grew steadily less prolific after redefining himself as a junkyard noise poet with Swordfishtrombones, but the five-year wait between The Black Rider and 1999's Mule Variations was the longest yet. Given the fact that Waits decided to abandon major labels for the California indie Epitaph, Mule Variations would seem like a golden opportunity to redefine himself and begin a new phase of his career. However, it plays like a revue of highlights from every album he's made since Swordfishtrombones. Of course, that's hardly a criticism; the album uses the ragged cacophony of Bone Machine as a starting point, and proceeds to bring in the songwriterly aspects of Rain Dogs, along with its affection for backstreet and backwoods blues, plus a hint of the beatnik qualities of Swordfish. So Mule Variations delivers what fans want, in terms of both songs and sonics. But that also explains why it sounds terrific on initial spins, only to reveal itself as slightly dissatisfying with subsequent plays. All of Waits' Island records felt like fully conceived albums with genuine themes. Mule Variations, in contrast, is a collection of moments, and while each of those moments is very good (some even bordering on excellent), ultimately the whole doesn't equal the sum of its parts. While that may seem like nitpicking, some may have wanted a masterpiece after five years, and Mule Variations falls short of that mark. Nevertheless, this is a hell of a record by any other standard. Waits is still writing terrific songs and matching them with wildly evocative productions; furthermore, it's his lightest record in years -- it's actually fun to listen to, even with a murder ballad here and a psycho blues there. In that sense, it's a unique item in his post-Swordfish catalog, and that may make up for it not being the masterpiece it seemed like it could have been.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Even though this long-player was the second collection to have featured the original Supremes lineup with Mary Wilson, Florence Ballard and Diana Ross, Where Did Our Love Go (1964) was the first to significantly impact the radio-listening and record-buying public. It effectively turned the trio -- who were called the 'No-Hit Supremes' by Motown insiders -- into one of the label's most substantial acts of the 1960s. Undoubtedly, their success was at least in part due to an influx of fresh material from the formidable composing/production team of Brian Holland, Lamont Dozier and Eddie Holland (HDH). They had already proven themselves by presenting "(Your Love Is Like A) Heatwave" to Martha & the Vandellas and providing Marvin Gaye with "Can I Get a Witness." Motown-head Berry Gordy hoped HDH could once again strike gold -- and boy, did they ever. Equally as impressive is that the Supremes were among the handful of domestic acts countering the initial onslaught of the mid-'60s British Invasion with a rapid succession of four Top 40 sides. Better still, "Where Did Our Love Go," "Baby Love" and "Come See About Me" made it all the way to the top, while "When the Lovelight Starts Shining Through His Eyes" (number 23), "Run, Run, Run" (number 93) and "A Breath Taking Guy" (number 75) were able to garner enough airplay and sales to make it into the Top 100 Pop Singles survey. HDH weren't the only contributors to the effort, as William "Smokey" Robinson supplied the catchy doo wop influenced "Long Gone Lover," as well as the aforementioned "Breath Taking Guy." Norman Whitfield penned the mid-tempo ballad "He Means The World to Me," and former Moonglow Harvey Fuqua co-wrote "Your Kiss of Fire." With such a considerable track list, it is no wonder Where Did Our Love Go landed in the penultimate spot on the Pop Album chart for four consecutive weeks in September of '64 -- making it the best received LP from Motown to date. In 2004, the internet-based Hip-O Select issued the double-disc Where Did Our Love Go [Expanded 40th Anniversary Edition] in a limited pressing of 10,000 copies. The package included the monaural and stereo mixes, plus a never before available seven-song vintage live set from the Twenty Grand Club in Detroit and another 17 unreleased studio cuts documented around the same time.© Lindsay Planer /TiVo

Taj Mahal has released many kinds of albums in a six-decade career: folk, jump, country, blues of all stripes, sounds from Africa, the Caribbean, R&B, soul, collaborations with musicians from across the globe, and even children's records. Savoy moves in another direction still. Recorded in collaboration with producer, pianist, and longtime friend John Simon, this set offers blues-kissed reads of 14 tunes from the Great American Songbook. The album is titled as an homage to the iconic Harlem ballroom at 596 Lenox Ave. Mahal's parents met there in 1938 seeing Ella Fitzgerald front the Chick Webb Orchestra. Simon and Mahal discussed the project for decades, but August 2022 was when the planets aligned. They cut the set live with a core band and guests. Mahal's band includes guitarist Danny Caron, bassist Ruth Davies, Simon on piano, drummer Leon Joyce, Jr., and a vocal chorus with Carla Holbrook, Leesa Humphrey, and Charlotte McKinnon. Interestingly, Caron and Davies served in Charles Brown's band, and Joyce drummed with Ramsey Lewis for many years. "Stompin' at the Savoy" starts with spoken word; Mahal delivers a reenactment of his parents' meeting. As he commences singing and scatting the lyrics, backing singers underscore with oohs, aahs, and call-and-response. "I'm Just a Lucky So-and-So" is one of three Duke Ellington numbers here. The languid horn section plays a blues progression with added warmth and grace from Kristen Strom's swinging flute. The arrangement of George Gershwin's "Summertime" is delivered allegretto, with blue, finger-popping swing from lush horns. "Mood Indigo" benefits from co-producer Manny Moreira's accumulated years of big band and Broadway experience. His layered brass colorations add dimension. "Do Nothin' Till You Hear from Me" offers languid, late-night horns (except in the bridge when they deliberately evoke gospel), and Simon's tasteful comping adds drama. The fluid blues guitar break from Caron benefits with elegance and bite. "Sweet Georgia Brown" is meaty and sprightly as Mahal's grainy singing and scatting contrasts beautifully with Evan Price's "Parisian hot jazz" violin. Maria Muldaur -- one of the great interpreters of vintage blues, jazz, R&B, and country -- joins Mahal on the fun, sultry "Baby It's Cold Outside," with excellent violin, trombone, and piano solos. "Caldonia," Louis Jordan's striding jump boogie, offers pumping piano, swinging guitar, and smoking sax and trombone solos behind Mahal's good-time vocal. His harmonica joins Strom's tenor sax to elevate in Benny Golson's dynamic "Killer Joe," before "One for My Baby (And One More for the Road)" closes the set. Mahal references several classic versions and arrangements in shifting tempos, but he ultimately only sounds like himself. Savoy embodies the abundant joy of its predecessor, Get On Board: The Songs of Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee, but the album offers added nuance, color, dynamics, and musical sophistication. It seemingly accomplishes the impossible by taking these (overly) familiar standards and breathing new life into them while simultaneously honoring their legacies as well as that of the historic Harlem ballroom. © Thom Jurek /TiVo

The second album by Jefferson Airplane, Surrealistic Pillow was a groundbreaking piece of folk-rock-based psychedelia, and it hit like a shot heard round the world; where the later efforts from bands like the Grateful Dead, Quicksilver Messenger Service, and especially, the Charlatans, were initially not too much more than cult successes, Surrealistic Pillow rode the pop charts for most of 1967, soaring into that rarefied Top Five region occupied by the likes of the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and so on, to which few American rock acts apart from the Byrds had been able to lay claim since 1964. And decades later the album still comes off as strong as any of those artists' best work. From the Top Ten singles "White Rabbit" and "Somebody to Love" to the sublime "Embryonic Journey," the sensibilities are fierce, the material manages to be both melodic and complex (and it rocks, too), and the performances, sparked by new member Grace Slick on most of the lead vocals, are inspired, helped along by Jerry Garcia (serving as spiritual and musical advisor and sometimes guitarist). Every song is a perfectly cut diamond, too perfect in the eyes of the bandmembers, who felt that following the direction of producer Rick Jarrard and working within three- and four-minute running times, and delivering carefully sung accompaniments and succinct solos, resulted in a record that didn't represent their real sound. Regardless, they did wonderful things with the music within that framework, and the only pity is that RCA didn't record for official release any of the group's shows from the same era, when this material made up the bulk of their repertory. That way the live versions, with the band's creativity unrestricted, could be compared and contrasted with the record. The songwriting was spread around between Marty Balin, Slick, Paul Kantner, and Jorma Kaukonen, and Slick and Balin (who never had a prettier song than "Today," which he'd actually written for Tony Bennett) shared the vocals; the whole album was resplendent in a happy balance of all of these creative elements, before excessive experimentation (musical and chemical) began affecting the band's ability to do a straightforward song. The group never made a better album, and few artists from the era ever did.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

Released to commemorate the tenth anniversary of Frank Sinatra's death, Nothing But the Best is indeed one of the best single-disc compilations ever released on Sinatra. This isn't a career overview, however, since it begins with his inaugural Reprise recordings circa 1960 and surveys the rest of the '60s (including only two tracks not from the '60s). This was the age of Sinatra as the hard-swinging Chairman of the Board, illustrated perfectly by "Luck Be a Lady" and "My Kind of Town." But it was also the age of wistful, middle-aged material like "Summer Wind," "Strangers in the Night," and, of course, "It Was a Very Good Year." And it was also the age when Sinatra had the freedom to record with everyone he wanted to record with, whether it was Count Basie or Antonio Carlos Jobim or his daughter Nancy (the latter on the 1967 chart-topper "Somethin' Stupid"). All of those periods are represented on Nothing But the Best, which takes its place above the best previous Reprise collection, Sinatra Reprise: The Very Good Years, even though it somehow omits one of his classics, "Love and Marriage." For this compilation, Reprise also commissioned new 2008 remasters of each track, which sound better than any previous, and added a new bonus track: a version of "Body and Soul" with a vocal recorded in 1984 laid over a 2007 arrangement by Torrie Zito and Frank Sinatra, Jr.© John Bush /TiVo

Just a year after the excellent concentrate of Northern soul “Change the Show” (2022), Miles Kane is back to business with a fifth album. The Englishman hasn’t wasted time in finding his way back to the studio, the brand-new Kempton Street Studios in Liverpool, and with his cousin James Skelly of The Coral on production, he’s gotten back to work with the guitar at the center of his world.“Making the album back in Liverpool with my family really helped to bring this out of me,” Kane explains. “We left no stone unturned. Sometimes you have to go backwards to go forwards, and this album helped me rediscover why I picked up a guitar in the first place. This album is like a brand new, yet somehow familiar leather jacket. A comforting melting pot of all the music that has inspired and continues to inspire me every day.” Amidst its dancefloor rock (in particular the two singles “Baggio” and a very 2000s rock “Troubled Son”), Kane swerves into soul (the dancey “Doubles”) and blues-rock with “Never Taking Me Alive”, which is reminiscent of the Black Keys (“Lonely Boy”), all while the languid “Ransom” and the guitar-vocal ballad “Scared of Love” provide a soft landing. A successful return to roots.

Returning to the large ensemble sound of her 2005 success, Christmas Songs, pianist/vocalist Diana Krall delivers a superb performance on 2006's From This Moment On. Although having received a largely positive critical response for her creative departure into original singer/songwriter jazz material on 2004's The Girl in the Other Room, here listeners find Krall diving headlong into the Great American Songbook that has long been her bread and butter. While she's always been a pleasant presence on album, Krall has developed from a talented pianist who can sing nicely into an engaging, classy, and sultry vocalist with tastefully deft improvisational chops. But it's not just that her phrasing and tone are well-schooled. Having long drawn comparisons to such iconic and icy jazz singers as Julie London and Peggy Lee, Krall truly earns such high praise here. In fact, tracks like "Willow Weep for Me" and "Little Girl Blue" are drawn with such virtuosic melancholy by Krall as to be far and away some of the best ballads she's put to record. Similarly impressive big swing numbers like "Come Dance with Me" showcase her muscular rhythmic chops both vocally and on the keys. Backing her here is the always wonderful Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra, featuring some punchy and solid solo spots by trumpeter Terell Stafford, as well as the rhythm section talents of guitarist Anthony Wilson, bassist Robert Hurst, and drummer Jeff Hamilton.© Matt Collar /TiVo