U.K. journeyman Mark Knopfler returns after a six-year gap with 2024's One Deep River, his tenth solo record. Since retiring Dire Straits in the mid-'90s, his output as a singer/songwriter has remained remarkably consistent and uniquely his own. Within his refined roots rock mélange is a multitude of layers; bits of blues, country, and funky R&B rub elbows with Celtic, jazz, folk, and the brand of smooth guitar rock he pioneered with his former band. He is his own establishment, reliable, and at this point in his career, comfortable. Like its predecessor, 2018's Down the Road Wherever, One Deep River doesn't necessarily break new ground for Knopfler, but it does add a clutch of well-written, impeccably played songs to his canon. The breezy, shuffling "Ahead of the Game" is an instant classic with a memorable riff and lyrics describing a road band's itinerant lifestyle: "it was nothing but the hits in a room downtown, they're noisy as hell, but nice." These are the kind of smart slice-of-life lyrics Knopfler has built his career on and can still deliver with a craftsman's ease. He gets down and dirty on the rugged "Scavenger's Yard" and wrestles with past regrets on the gentle "Watch Me Go." There are charismatic story songs detailing robberies ("Tunnel 13") and dusty boomtowns ("Janine"), but Knopfler is often at his best when he allows himself to be sentimental. The river referred to in the album's title (and pictured on its cover) is the Tyne, the major artery of Newcastle in Northeast England where he grew up. One Deep River closes with its poignant title track, a paean to an enduring landmark he has no doubt crossed countless times in a life well spent as a traveling musician.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

When Daft Punk announced they were releasing a new album eight years after 2005's Human After All, fans were starved for new material. The Tron: Legacy score indulged the duo's sci-fi fantasies but didn't offer much in the way of catchy songs, so when Random Access Memories' extensive publicity campaign featured tantalizing clips of a new single, "Get Lucky," their fan base exploded. But when the album finally arrived, that hugely hyped single was buried far down its track list, emphasizing that most of these songs are very much not like "Get Lucky" -- or a lot of the pair's previous music, at least on the surface. The album isn't much like 2010s EDM, either. Instead, Daft Punk separate themselves from most contemporary electronic music and how it's made, enlisting some of their biggest influences to help them get the sounds they needed without samples. On Homework's "Teachers," they reverently name-checked a massive list of musicians and producers. Here, they place themselves on equal footing with disco masterminds Nile Rodgers and Giorgio Moroder, who shares his thoughts on making music with wild guitar and synth solos trailing behind him on one of RAM's definitive moments, "Giorgio by Moroder." Elsewhere, Daft Punk celebrate their close relationship with indie music on the lovely "Doin' It Right," which makes the most of Panda Bear's boyish vocals, and on the Julian Casablancas cameo "Instant Crush," which is only slightly more electronic than the Strokes' Comedown Machine. And of course, Pharrell Williams is the avatar of their dancefloor mastery on the sweaty disco of "Lose Yourself to Dance" and "Get Lucky," which is so suave that it couldn't help but be an instant classic, albeit a somewhat nostalgic one. "Memories" is the album's keyword: As Daft Punk celebrate the late '70s and early '80s with deluxe homages like "Give Life Back to Music" -- one of several terrific showcases for Rodgers -- and the spot-on soft rock of the Todd Edwards collaboration "Fragments of Time," they tap into the wonder and excitement in that era's music. A particularly brilliant example is "Touch," where singer/songwriter Paul Williams conflates his work in Phantom of the Paradise and The Muppet Movie in the song's mystique, charm, and unabashed emotions. Daft Punk have never shied away from "uncool" influences or sentimentality, and both are on full display throughout Random Access Memories. It's the kind of grand, album rock statement that listeners of the '70s and '80s would have spent weeks or months dissecting and absorbing -- the ambition of Steely Dan, Alan Parsons, and Pink Floyd are as vital to the album as any of the duo's collaborators. For the casual Daft Punk fan, this album might be harder to love than "Get Lucky" hinted; it might be too nostalgic, too overblown, a shirking of the group's duty to rescue dance music from the Young Turks who cropped up in their absence. But Random Access Memories is also Daft Punk's most personal work, and richly rewarding for listeners willing to spend time with it.© Heather Phares /TiVo

Cat Power—Chan Marshall—wanted to mark the moment in 1966 that "informs everything …  this precipice of time that changed music forever": Bob Dylan's "Royal Albert Hall Concert" (actually played at the Manchester Free Trade Hall), the one when he switched from acoustic to electric midway through—prompting an incensed folk purist to yell out "Judas!" Fifty-six years after that concert, Marshall delivered a sublime song-for-song re-creation of the set, at the actual Royal Albert Hall. "I'm not being Bob … I'm just recreating it, that's all. But not making it mine," she has said. Inevitably, though, the songs do become hers. It's evident right away, from "She Belongs to Me" (and shortly after, "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue"), the influence Dylan has long had on Cat Power's music. But with her husky voice, so like Nico's now and far from Dylan's youthful reediness, revealing traces of her Georgia upbringing ("She don't look baaaaack") and contrasting the clean acoustic guitar and shiny harmonica, she owns it. "Desolation Row" is a twelve-and-a-half minute marvel. The guitar is not blindingly bright like Charlie McCoy's flamenco flavor, but that works well with Marshall's more serious/less jaunty air here. Without aping Dylan, she hits his inflections, putting exuberant emphasis on the ends of lines ("And the good Samaritan! He's dressing!"). Her "Visions of Johanna" underscores the prettiness of the melody, while the way she sings the name "Jo-hanna" make it feel so much more exotic than it is. She gets playful with the familiar phrasing on the chorus of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and sings "Just Like a Woman" beautifully, offering a softer, less angular version of Dylan's classic. At 50, she was twice the age of Dylan when he recorded the song for Blonde on Blonde, and you can hear—feel—the extra tread on her heart. When electrified "Tell Me Momma" kicks in like the Wizard of Oz Technicolor moment, it's as thrilling as it's supposed to be, the first word of the titular line bitingly crisp each time. "I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)" plays up the soulful grooviness that always feels a little buried on Dylan's live recording, while "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down" expertly captures his wild-eyed edginess. Marshall's "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" is more elegant, even with its raw edges, than Dylan's young-man machismo. She does not recreate things down to the between-song patter but there is a moment, just before "Ballad of a Thin Man" (so slinky, so powerful), when someone yells out "Judas!"—and Marshall, serenely, responds, "Jesus." "I wasn't expecting the audience to recreate their part of the original show as well, but then I wanted to set the record straight—in a way, Dylan is a deity to all of us who write songs," she has said. And, as it did in 1966, closer "Like a Rolling Stone" sounds like liberation; maybe even like Marshall knows some part of this is hers now. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Over nine albums, The National have grown wilder in their experimentation. But the Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cincinnati band proves on First Two Pages of Frankenstein that almost no one else does Midwest desolation this well—still. It's there in the plaintive but sweetly hopeful piano line that carries "Once Upon a Poolside" and underscores Matt Berninger's troubled lines: "I can't keep talking/ I can't stop shaking/ I can't keep track of everything I'm taking." (Bonus points for bringing in fellow Midwestern native Sufjan Stevens for ethereal backing vocals.) There's a spareness, too, in the excellent "Eucalyptus," which poses questions about who walks away with what when a relationship ends: ceiling fans, rainbow eucalyptus, ornaments ..."What about the undeveloped cameras?/ Maybe we should bury those ... What about the Cowboy Junkies?/ What about the Afghan Whigs?" And yet the song takes on an early-U2 level of drama with a build of moody, striking guitar and tumbling drums. "Tropic Morning News," meanwhile, surprises in a different way: Starting with a perfectly chilled Joy Division beat, the guitars spring to life and the bridge takes off and up. This is the song that is said to have saved the record, after Berninger was in a dry spell. It was, he has said, "the first time it ever felt like maybe things really had come to an end" for the band. But, with his wife Carin Besser's help on the words, he pulled through—a feeling that seems to be reflected in the lyrics: "I was so distracted then/ I didn't have it straight in my head/ I didn't have my face on yet, or the role, or the feel/ Of where I was going with it all ... There's nothing stopping me now/ From saying all the painful parts out loud." Much has been made of the band's collaboration with Taylor Swift, "The Alcott,” and for good reason. As a producer, National guitarist and songwriter Aaron Dessner knows how to pull a genuine maturity out of Swift. Here she holds her own against Berninger's deep masculinity and the beating heart of percussion. Unlike with other guests on ... Frankenstein, this is a proper duet, and a pretty perfect addition to the Swift oeuvre, as she delivers lines like "Shred my evening gown/ Read my sentence out loud/ Because I brought this curse on our house." Phoebe Bridgers, meanwhile, shows up on "This Isn't Helping" and "Your Mind Is Not Your Friend," but her harmonies are more like a spoonful of sugar atop Berninger's roughness, rather than an equal match.The record ends with “Send for Me” and Berninger promising to answer any SOS: "If you're ever sitting at the airport/ And you don't want to leave ... If you're ever at a glass-top table, selling your ideas/ To swivel-chair underlings who just don't get it … Send for me/ Whenever, where ever/ Send for me/ I'll come and get ya." In other words: They’re not done yet. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

All tracks are in 24/88.2 excepted the track 4 from disc 2 "Infiniting Repeating (2013 demo)" which is in 24/44.1.Two years after Daft Punk's split in February 2021, comes a reissue of their decade-old final album Random Access Memories in a deluxe version with a nine-track disc bringing together studio outtakes, demos and unreleased tracks. Included are "Horizon" (a ballad released only in the Japanese version at the time), two minutes of vocoder testing by Pharrell Williams for "Lose Yourself to Dance," and two unreleased tracks: "Prime (2012 Unfinished)," which didn't make it to original release, and the soulful "Infinity Repeating (2013 Demo)" featuring Julian Casablancas and The Voidz. (Casablancas would end up on RAM with "Instant Crush.") There's also the delightful "The Writing of Fragments of Time," an eight-minute behind-the-scenes track which puts us in the studio with Daft Punk and producer Todd Edwards as they discuss this "beach road" song, and create it all at once. Thirty-five minutes of bonus material ends with "Touch (2021 Epilogue)," the track composed with their idol Paul Williams, and chosen as the soundtrack for the band's farewell video in 2021. This is a deluxe version that is well worth chasing after. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

Complete recordings of great works such as Bach’s sonatas, his “Well-Tempered Clavier,” or Chopin’s “24 Preludes” occupy a unique place within the history of musical recording. It’s in their entirety that they are most unique and powerful, whereas in the purity of their repertoire, individual pieces are generally regarded as being largely heterogeneous. These timeless compositions transcend their authors and are given new life with each interpretation, and such is the case with Bach’s “Goldberg Variations.” Published in 1741, as the fourth and last part of his Clavier-Übung, the “Goldberg Variations” still remain, almost 300 years later, amongst the baroque master’s most important works, not only for the history of musical composition and recording in general (Glenn Gould, Trevor Pinnock, Rosalyn Tureck, and many others come to mind), but also for Víkingur Ólafsson in particular. “I’ve been dreaming of recording this work for 25 years,” says the Icelandic pianist, thus confirming that these studies are more a life’s work than a whim.Beginning with a melody that’s simple in appearance, the work is spread over a total of 30 variations, becoming a masterpiece of complexity. Determined, at surface level, by a rigid formal framework, the material itself nevertheless demands a “sort of interpretive improvisation”. Ólafsson recognises this paradox and makes it his own not by interpreting the different variations with technical precision and a strict loyalty to the metronome, but rather by following cyclical impulses and organic interpretation. At the same time, he evolves with the work and transcends it, whether in the creativity of the fugues or the complexity of the different canons, which influence one another, rely on one another, and, finally, like a parabola, return to the first melody and the beginning of all that had transpired previously -  like the ebb and flow of the Icelandic ocean, whose waves we know will always return to shore, but whose calm or strength we can never be sure of. © Lena Germann/Qobuz

Jonathan Demme's creative direction and this group's brilliance make for an unusual live performance event. Starting solo with David Byrne, each song brings another band member to the stage until the full band kicks in. With Bernie Worrell on keyboards and a strong hit-filled set from the Speaking in Tongues tour, this is definitely worth checking out.© Scott Bultman /TiVo

If you’d told David Gahan and Martin Gore a year before the release of this latest album (which was still in the making at that time) that its title would be somewhat foreboding, the pair would likely have agreed, but for a rather different reason. Memento Mori roughly translates to ‘remember you’re going to die’—that’s what was on Gahan’s mind having just entered his sixties, whilst also remembering his stepfather, the man who raised and cared for him, who had died at just 61. But fate would prove both twisted and cruel when, without warning, it would take the life of Andy Fletcher on 26th May 2022. Depeche Mode’s third man was just 60 years old.However, this sudden death was not what primarily guided the somber, melancholic content of the record. Most of it was composed during the pandemic, which must have forced the band to ask themselves countless questions about their existence, their future and how these doubts would be manifested within their music (though Fletcher’s death would inevitably alter their approach to these same compositions). This all gives rise to a record which, whilst rejecting any semblance of ‘joie-de-vivre’, is a real return to more gothic, vintage and organic sounds. The album’s quasi-industrial opener, ‘My Cosmos is Mine’, sets the tone for the darker journey to come. The album takes a more stripped-back approach to the melodies, where Gahan’s sobering voice steers clear of all excess.In the midst of this darkness, the emphasis on synthesized sounds from a seemingly bygone era strikes a nostalgic chord without losing its edge (‘Wagging Tongue’, ‘Never Let Me Go’). These textures are accompanied by more saturated tones, taking us right back to their flirtations with rock in the 90s (‘My Favourite Stranger’). Memento Mori sounds like a kind of condensed version of the band’s more delicate songs without becoming a simple reconstruction of them. It has a subtle beauty which surely highlights the expertise of the musicians behind it, despite being somewhat overshadowed by the erratic nature of their discography over the last twenty years. Light filters through the cracks here and there on this album however, like the song ‘People are Good’, reminiscent of the classic ‘People are People’ released almost forty years ago. Remember that you’re meant to enjoy it… © Chief Brody/Qobuz

Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe aren't often discussed as one of pop music's great songwriting teams, but the wonderfully eclectic body of work they've created as Pet Shop Boys speaks for itself. Since crashing into the mainstream with 1985's chart-topper, "West End Girls," the London duo have delivered a remarkably consistent barrage of tightly crafted synth pop singles that fuse dance culture with trenchant cultural commentary and an undeniable sense of melodic grace. Each of their 14 albums has reached the U.K. Top Ten, and they've sent an astonishing 42 singles into the Top 30, including number ones like "It's a Sin" and "Heart." A bevy of compilations have celebrated Pet Shop Boys' highlights over the years, and 1991's Discography: The Complete Singles Collection was a significant number three hit itself. 2023's Smash: The Singles 1985-2020 is essentially an update of the aforementioned collection and contains, in chronological order, each of their singles from this 35-year period. In unpacking its 55-song sequence, the first thing one notices is the uniform quality of their songs: elegantly constructed, dense with pop nutrients, undeniably catchy, yet ever so smart. Tennant is an underrated vocalist who has continually pushed his range over the years, balancing wry asides and spoken word sections with his reedy and surprisingly nimble tenor. Lowe's ear for a catchy hook is another defining element and ranges from subtle (1990's droll standout "Being Boring") to grandiose (2013's marvelous banger "Love Is a Bourgeois Construct"). What's more, the pair has assembled this durable catalog almost without interruption, reliably delivering singles, albums, remixes, and EPs almost annually since their debut. Work ethic and quality don't always go hand in hand, but Pet Shop Boys have both in spades.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

Denis Villeneuve and Hans Zimmer (Interstellar, Gladiator…) reunite for the second installment of Dune, the film adaptation of Frank Herbert’s science fiction novels. In this sequel, Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) unites with Chani (Zendaya) and the Fremen to lead a revolt against those who destroyed his family. Haunted by dark premonitions, he finds himself confronted with a difficult choice between the love of his life and the fate of the universe. Zimmer’s troubling score echoes these menacing intuitions, full of metallic textures that intertwine with the textures of the human voice, leading to sonorities that are both familiar and strange at once. We also hear the first film’s famous gimmick, the guttural voice of the Bene Gesserit, contributing to the project’s profoundly spiritual quality. Overall, the soundtrack to Dune: Part Two is more meditative than that of the first film, as is evidenced by the choice of the duduk, the Armenian woodwind instrument that most notably haunts the opening piece (“Beginnings Are Such Delicate Times”). Loyal to the great tradition of Hollywood film music, Hans Zimmer graces us with a love song that’s full of tenderness. Those who love the enchanting Zimmer of Terrence Malik’s The Thin Red Line will certainly appreciate this soundtrack to one of 2024’s most anticipated films. © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

“We are not serious when we are 17.” But Billie Eilish has all the marks of a serious young lady and someone who we should indeed take seriously. At the age of sixteen she released the noteworthy Don’t Smile at Me, an EP created with the help of her older brother, Finneas O’Connell. The EP is comprised of the singles Copycat, Bellyache and Ocean Eyes and was posted two years earlier on Soundcloud when Eilish was just 14 years old. Critics hailed her music due to its depiction of a lost adolescent with bleached hair, dressed in oversized sweaters. With the album When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? and its strange title and shocking cover, Eilish and her dark hair flaunt their more obscure side. One is immediately struck with how well polished Finneas O’Connell’s production is after an intro in which Eilish jokingly mocks her brother for his Invisalign (a kind of invisible dental brace). The first track Bad Guy features an EDM beat which contrasts with the dreaminess of the subsequent Xanny. The rest of the album follows this trend, weaving together both harsh and soft songs combined with the mature lyrics of a girl who was diagnosed with Tourette’s at the age of 11 and speaks of Xanax and young girls descent into a hellish existence. In this mix of gloomy pop and creepy trap beats, Eilish excels. A real eye-opener. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

Countdown to Ecstasy wasn't half the hit that Can't Buy a Thrill was, and Steely Dan responded by trimming the lengthy instrumental jams that were scattered across Countdown and concentrating on concise songs for Pretzel Logic. While the shorter songs usually indicate a tendency toward pop conventions, that's not the case with Pretzel Logic. Instead of relying on easy hooks, Walter Becker and Donald Fagen assembled their most complex and cynical set of songs to date. Dense with harmonics, countermelodies, and bop phrasing, Pretzel Logic is vibrant with unpredictable musical juxtapositions and snide, but very funny, wordplay. Listen to how the album's hit single, "Rikki Don't Lose That Number," opens with a syncopated piano line that evolves into a graceful pop melody, or how the title track winds from a blues to a jazzy chorus -- Becker and Fagen's craft has become seamless while remaining idiosyncratic and thrillingly accessible. Since the songs are now paramount, it makes sense that Pretzel Logic is less of a band-oriented album than Countdown to Ecstasy, yet it is the richest album in their catalog, one where the backhanded Dylan tribute "Barrytown" can sit comfortably next to the gorgeous "Any Major Dude Will Tell You." Steely Dan made more accomplished albums than Pretzel Logic, but they never made a better one.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Mona Bone Jakon only began Cat Stevens' comeback. Seven months later, he returned with Tea for the Tillerman, an album in the same chamber-group style, employing the same musicians and producer, but with a far more confident tone. Mona Bone Jakon had been full of references to death, but Tea for the Tillerman was not about dying; it was about living in the modern world while rejecting it in favor of spiritual fulfillment. It began with a statement of purpose, "Where Do the Children Play?," in which Stevens questioned the value of technology and progress. "Wild World" found the singer being dumped by a girl, but making the novel suggestion that she should stay with him because she was incapable of handling things without him. "Sad Lisa" might have been about the same girl after she tried and failed to make her way; now, she seemed depressed to the point of psychosis. The rest of the album veered between two themes: the conflict between the young and the old, and religion as an answer to life's questions. Tea for the Tillerman was the story of a young man's search for spiritual meaning in a soulless class society he found abhorrent. He hadn't yet reached his destination, but he was confident he was going in the right direction, traveling at his own, unhurried pace. The album's rejection of contemporary life and its yearning for something more struck a chord with listeners in an era in which traditional verities had been shaken. It didn't hurt, of course, that Stevens had lost none of his ability to craft a catchy pop melody; the album may have been full of angst, but it wasn't hard to sing along to. As a result, Tea for the Tillerman became a big seller and, for the second time in four years, its creator became a pop star.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

Note to Clapton lovers: here comes the Super Deluxe edition of an expanded compilation of his best tracks, played at the Royal Albert Hall, in London, in 1990 and 1991. It was released in the form of a double LP of fifteen tracks at the time. London’s prestigious concert hall hosted 32 of his Slowhand concerts, 18 of which were performed in succession - breaking his own record - and with four different groups. This new box set of 47 titles, three-quarters of which were previously unreleased, is this time divided into three parts (the first edition was divided into four parts); “Rock”, “Blues”, and “Orchestral”. At the time, Clapton had been accompanied by some high-flying musicians. On the first record, we find Phil Collins on drums for covers of Bob Marley’s I Shot The Sheriff , and Bob Dylan’s Knockin' On Heaven's Door. On the second record, we find Buddy Guy, Robert Cray, and Jimmy - on guitar. Jimmy is the older brother of Stevie Ray Vaughan, who died in a helicopter crash in August 1990. More reserved, performed with the National Philharmonic Orchestra, and conducted by Michael Kamen, the third record offers 10-minute-long scintillating and highly-charged versions of Crossroads, by Robert Johnson, and Layla. Almost six hours of enjoyable listening. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

Since the turn of the 90s, Dominic Miller has attained renown as one of the best session guitarists of his generation in the field of international pop, as well as through his long-term association with Sting. He has also pursued a more private solo career which has undeniably taken a new turn and dimension since the release of his album, Silent Night, in 2017. This marked the beginning of his collaboration with the prestigious label, ECM. After Absinthe, which came two years later, Miller released Vagabond which today continues to develop the insights posed by this matrix work, rolling out luring atmospheric music that is both lyrical and ultra-melodic, yet devoid of any overt virtuosity. At the head of a quartet, which can be considered as cosmopolitan as it is organic, we find Israeli drummer, Ziv Ravitz, his long-time partner Nicolas Fiszman on bass, and Swedish pianist Jacob Karlzon (a real gem, given the grace of his touch and the refinement of his harmonic palette). Here, Dominic Miller explores the narrative and dramatic potential of eight new compositions with strong cinematic power. They present themselves as an array of modest emotional scenarios with an often-melancholic allure. Taking advantage of the richness of the sound textures offered by his formation’s instrumentation, with the aim of developing impressionist arrangements that have clear, tuneful lines, with the sense of space specific to ECM productions, the guitarist uses simplistic and refined forms, pulsed with light grooves, making music with an instrumental and compositional mastery that is capable of soberly and maturely exploring the depths of emotion. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz