All it took was the complete closure of clubs around the world to get Carl Cox back into producing. The British DJ, probably one of the biggest stars to get behind the decks in the last thirty years, got locked up by Covid like everyone else. In his home in Melbourne, Australia, he dug out all his audio equipment and got it back in working order. Now, here he is, reigniting his passion with these relentless beats. ‘I'm just making music that I believe is based on how music was made in the first place, you know, all that early drum ’n' bass, jungle, jump-up Metalheadz stuff was just purely based on punk… we need more of that at the moment, everyone just seems to be making records to get on the Beatport Top 10’, he says.On Electronic Generations, Carl Cox treats us to fifteen ultra-raw tracks that are hardly touched up at all. The album harks back to his days as a resident DJ at the mega-club Space in Ibiza, when he was the guy who knew everything there was to know about techno and the clubbing scene. There are no calibrated intros to be found here, just plenty of scarcely processed sounds. It’s an unexpected album from Carl Cox. Perhaps he also wanted to show that he was capable of making techno that wasn’t mainstream but still packed a real punch—quite frankly, he’s done a good job on that front. On ‘Line Lock’, there are rudimentary and brutish kicks, freestyle hi-hats and a bludgeoning bass. He’s also dug up his TB-303 (‘acid’) machine, which you can hear on ‘World Gone Mad’; aptly used by Fatboy Slim on ‘Speed Trials on Acid’. Carl then joins forces with Detroit techno pioneer Juan Atkins on the incredible ‘Deep Space X’ (complete with cosmic synth and heavy kick), which is sure to be heard on every dancefloor over the coming years. Carl Cox has made a real comeback with this album. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

It goes without saying that a music movie lives or dies by its music, but it's particularly true with pop music parodies. If the music doesn't hit the right notes -- if it doesn't feel like the period it's meant to evoke, if the humor is either too broad or dry -- the movie crumbles around it, to say nothing of the soundtrack, which will be hard-pressed to stand on its own as an album. The gold standard for rock comedies is This Is Spinal Tap, as the music felt authentic, and Christopher Guest, Harry Shearer, and Michael McKean proved that lightning could strike twice with their folk music saga A Mighty Wind. The soundtrack to the John C. Reilly-starring Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story belongs in such rarefied company. Like Spinal Tap, Walk Hard sets the bar high by attempting to create many sounds from the past, but where the Tap pretty much confined themselves to a bit of Merseybeat and psychedelia before settling into a metallic groove, the whole point of Walk Hard is to trace Reilly's Cox character -- based chiefly on Johnny Cash -- through the ins and outs of the '50s, '60s, and '70s, so there are more sounds here and thereby more pitfalls, all of which the music-makers miraculously manage to avoid. This is especially remarkable because the 15 songs on Walk Hard evoke many different artists: there is naturally Johnny Cash on the title track, the mariachi-flared "Guilty as Charged," and the cheerfully vulgar Johnny and June take-off "Let's Duet," but there are also two takes on Elvis ("[Mama] You Got to Love Your Negro Man," "[I Hate You] Big Daddy"), three on Dylan, Roy Orbison on the grandly melodramatic "A Life Without You (Is No Life at All)," and the Everly Brothers-styled "Darling," but this also leaves old-time rock & roll behind with the Beach Boys psych-pop pastiche "Black Sheep" and, bizarrely, a disco spin on David Bowie's "Starman." That's a lot of ground to cover, but the songs work as music while still being funny. Sometimes, the jokes are big and obvious -- the double entendres on "Let's Duet" are hardly subtle -- but sometimes the humor is a bit sly, as on "Royal Jelly," which nails Dylan's stream-of-conscious romantic writing. Of course, that song wouldn't work if it weren't for John C. Reilly's delivery; he mimics the particulars of Dylan's cadence with the grace of Cate Blanchett, and his fine ear for detail is evident throughout this soundtrack, as he negotiates the twists and turns of the music with ease. Such a performance would be admirable if the songs weren't good, but since they're very fine, his singing helps turn Walk Hard into that rarest of things: a parody album that's almost as addictive as the real deal.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Topical and heartwrenching opera on racial injustice. Washington National Opera presents Blue, a contemporary opera on racial injustice in the United States today, with a libretto by Tazewell Thompson set to music by Jeanine Tesori. Blue tells the tragic story of an African-American police officer whose son is killed by a fellow officer during a protest. Strongly resonating with the Black Lives Matter movement, the piece is equally groundbreaking thanks to its intimate and layered portrayal of African-American family life on the operatic stage. Historically and musically, Blue compassionately tells a story that is at once painful and identifiable to so many of us. The Music Critics Association of America named Blue the "best new opera" of 2020, while the Financial Times praised it as "an exceptionally strong new opera about race in America", and hailed Tesori’s music as "eclectic, but assuredly so, full of beauty and eloquence". The piece is sung by an excellent cast of vocalists, including Kenneth Kellogg as The Father, Briana Hunter as The Mother, and Aaron Crouch as The Son, while The Washington National Opera Orchestra is led by rising star conductor Roderick Cox. Jeanine Tesori is one of the most important American composers of today, with a diverse catalog for musical theatre, opera, film, and television. Tazewell Thompson is an internationally acclaimed director, playwright, teacher, and actor. Washington National Opera is among the leading US opera houses, and has the mission to present stories that reflect the America of today. © Pentatone

Classic blues singer Ida Cox had not recorded since 1940 nor performed regularly since the mid-'40s when she was coaxed out of retirement to record a date for Riverside in 1961. At 65 years old (some books list her as being 72), Cox's voice was a bit rusty and past its prime, but she still had the feeling, phrasing, and enough tricks to perform a strong program. With assistance from trumpeter Roy Eldridge, tenor saxophonist Coleman Hawkins, pianist Sammy Price, bassist Milt Hinton, and drummer Jo Jones (swing-era veterans who came up after Cox was already a major name), the singer does her best on such numbers as "Wild Women Don't Have the Blues," "Blues for Rampart Street," "St. Louis Blues," and "Death Letter Blues." Since she passed away in 1967, this final effort (reissued on CD) was made just in time and is well worth acquiring by 1920s jazz and blues collectors. © Scott Yanow /TiVo

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