The Coral weren't really looking to make another album so soon after completing the epic Coral Island concept album, but when one of their favorite haunts, Parr Studios, was about to close down, they took advantage of the friendly surroundings to cut another record. Two, in fact. The more substantial of the pair, Sea of Mirrors, is a sepia-toned, string-filled, and melancholy imagined soundtrack for a vintage spaghetti Western starring Lee Hazlewood as the busted-up and bitter troubadour. Calling in the arrangement expertise of Sean O'Hagan of High Llamas fame, the band chose to outfit the songs in orchestral flourishes, vocal choruses, and Western-friendly banjos and acoustic guitars. It ends up being their most adult-sounding album yet; stately and nostalgically sad, it sheds all traces of psychedelia in favor of an almost-middle-of-the-road approach where the road is old and covered in sand, barely used, and caked in nostalgia. The elaborate ballads and misty melodies are tailor-made for James Skelly's voice, he's got pipes big enough to inhabit the songs like an aging gunfighter while at the same time hinting at the pain lurking beneath the hard-worn surface. The band proves just as adept at creating the perfect atmosphere, filling the sonic spectrum with galloping basslines, rippling percussion, jangling and twanging guitars, and the occasional dusty piano. When paired with the widescreen efforts of O'Hagan, they come up with a sound old Lee would have been proud to call his own. Certainly one that some wily filmmaker might have stuck in their movie to conjure up a dramatically melancholy mood. The title track or "Wild Bird" could have fit into Midnight Cowboy with their aching vocals, shimmering strings, and downcast feel. Other songs might have been good for moments where lovers pine for one another ("That's Where She Belongs"), the lead ponders where it all went wrong ("North Wind") or wanders the night in a trance-like state ("Dream River"). The combination of O'Hagan and the Coral is so perfect it's hard to believe it actually happened. Each of them brings out something intrinsically good in the other; the Coral are so resolutely earthbound that O'Hagan's additions could never veer too far toward the precious, and his fluttering arrangements give the group space to nimbly explore lighter, less earthbound territory. It's definitely not like anything else in their catalog, and it's pretty clear by now that the Coral could take on just about any kind of guitar-based music and make it fully their own. Deeply bruised, cinematic, and graceful Western music is no match for their skills, and Sea of Mirrors is another triumph for the band.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

Following four albums that have helped established him on the contemporary jazz scene, Shai Maestro is taking a major step by combining with the ECM label. Still in a trio with his double bass accomplice Jorge Roeder and drummer Ofri Nehemya (who replaces regular Ziv Ravitz), the Israeli pianist is once again going down the path of sublime multi-layered narratives. The melodies are taken from jazz as well as Eastern traditional music, and even Western classical music. Whether he feels introspective (on Israeli Matti Caspi’s My Second Childhood) or overtly provocative (surprising interpretation of the classic These Foolish Things), he has kept his soft touch and refined musical language. Ever since 2012, when he released the first album with him as the frontman, his profoundly personal aesthetic has continued to impress. He possesses a strong narrative force and stays well wired into the times, like on the final composition What Else Needs To Happen?, in which Shai Maestro very subtly inserts the voice of Barack Obama giving a speech about gun control. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

To celebrate the end of the platinum-selling Finnish symphonic metal outfit's 2013 Imaginaerum World Tour, which boasted 104 performances in 34 countries, Nightwish decided to go out with a bang and bring their opulent live show to the tiny German village of Wacken and its mammoth annual metalfest, Wacken Open Air. The first Nightwish release to feature their new singer, ex-After Forever frontwoman Floor Jansen, the powerhouse Showtime/Storytime sees the group tear through an epic 16-song set in front of 85,000 screaming fans. The DVD/Blu-ray edition adds a concert film of the 85-minute performance (filmed with 17 cameras), as well as a 120-minute tour documentary titled Please Learn the Setlist in 48 Hours and a 16-minute band table hockey tournament.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

Even though his score Furyo de Nagisa Oshima has since entered into legend (closely followed by that of The Last Emperor by Bernardo Bertolucci), Ryuichi Sakamoto has worked with many other filmmakers, including Pedro Almodóvar and Brian De Palma. With The Revenant, he adds Alejandro González Iñárritu to his growing list. The Mexican director used his work World Citizen (co-written with David Sylvian) in his film Babel back in 2006, but had never placed an order for a complete score. For this long, flamboyant film - in which blood and violence feature heavily - Sakamoto takes the opposite direction with his music: slow and progressive themes; sublime soundscapes. This contemplative mood, which can at times be oppressive, was designed by Sakamoto with the help of a colleague, spawning electronic music with which he also works regularly. American Bryce Dessner also features, guitarist of indie band The National and also a contemporary music composer. Together, the three musicians sculpt a masterful score, combining acoustic and electronic, and, like all great soundtracks, it can be enjoyed with eyes closed. ©MZ/Qobuz

Split Enz needed to end, particularly since founding member Tim Finn found his little brother Neil's growth spurt uncomfortable, but also because Neil was no longer writing tunes that made sense within the context of a band that ran the gamut from art rock to eccentric new wave. Neil was now writing songs that were undeniably totems of popcraft, but infused with the spirit and introspection of a singer/songwriter. This formula would later become quite popular with artists from Matthew Sweet to the legions of basement auteurs in the pop underground, but this sensibility was relatively unheard of in the mid-'80s -- hence the birth of Crowded House. Neil retained Paul Hester from Enz, added Nick Seymour for the trio, and recorded one abandoned attempt at an album before joining with Mitchell Froom for the band's eponymous debut. At the time, Froom's clean production seemed refreshing, almost rootsy, compared to the synth pop dominating the mainstream and college scenes at the time, but in retrospect it seems a little overreaching and fussy, particularly in its addition of echo and layers of keyboards during particularly inappropriate moments. But Finn at his best overshadowed this fairly stilted production with his expert songcraft. As it happened, the record was blessed by good timing, and the majestic ballad "Don't Dream It's Over" became an international hit, while its follow-up, the breezy "Something So Strong," also turned into a hit. Both revealed different sides of Finn's talents, with the first being lyrical and the second being effervescent, but perhaps the truest testaments to his talents are "Mean to Me," "World Where You Live," and "Now We're Getting Somewhere," songs where the lyrics meld with the melody in a way that is distinctive, affecting, and personal. If the rest of the record doesn't reach those heights, it's still good, well-constructed pop, and these aforementioned highlights point the way to Temple of Low Men, where Crowded House (and particularly Finn) came into its own.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

A digital-only release arriving in May of 2014, Complete Rarities I.R.S. 1982-1987 offers 50 stray tracks that have come out on various reissues, B-sides, and even the 1987 compilation Dead Letter Office, which was the first time R.E.M. attempted to tie up loose ends. The CD of Dead Letter Office contained Chronic Town, but that debut EP is absent on this collection (it hasn't appeared on any of the deluxe reissues of I.R.S. titles either). It's an unfortunate omission -- Chronic Town is a pivotal part of American indie rock -- but even with its absence, Complete Rarities I.R.S. 1982-1987 is a worthwhile clearinghouse of oddities, demos, outtakes, and live cuts from R.E.M.'s golden era. There are no new excavations here. The bulk of the collection is based on Dead Letter Office and the bonus disc included with the two-CD version of the 2006 compilation And I Feel Fine...: The Best of the I.R.S. Years 1982-1987, with the rest rounded out with bonus tracks available either on expanded European editions from the '90s or various other reissues. There is plenty to love here -- the original Hib-Tone single of "Radio Free Europe"/"Sitting Still"; exuberant early versions of "All the Right Friends" and "Bad Day," songs they'd later revive; a nervy demo of "Just a Touch"; a live medley of "Time After Time," "Red Rain," and "So. Central Rain"; the entirety of Dead Letter Office -- and hardcore fans who have somehow managed to not get this music into their R.E.M. collections should consider picking up this useful digital set.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Louis Armstrong's commercial resurgence with the song "Hello, Dolly!" -- a number one hit that unseated the Beatles' "Can't Buy Me Love" from the top spot -- came as such a surprise that Kapp Records hastened to produce an album to go along with it. The resulting long-player, appropriately titled Hello, Dolly!, also went to number one and produced a second hit, the inferior "I Still Get Jealous." As you might predict, almost all of the songs are drawn from Broadway shows, and a couple (a re-recording of "Blueberry Hill"; "A Lot of Livin' to Do" from Bye Bye Birdie) lend a veneer of hipness to give the album a "1964 touch" without foisting completely inappropriate material on the 60-something Satchmo. Armstrong had one of the most recognizable and personality-laden voices of the 20th century, and although he was past his prime at the time, Hello, Dolly! shows him at his '60s best. © Greg Adams /TiVo

How nice it is to find a musician who doesn’t exhaust himself by releasing loads of overly long tracks! We find ten songs here, and not one of them exceeds four and a half minutes. The result is a beautiful, compelling album that recalls the 1970s and 80s. Patrick Watson has a gift for structure and a taste for purity, which he proved in his enchanting album Adventures in Your Own Backyard in 2012. This new ten-episode fresco is drenched in melancholy, and the minimalist piano parts reflect the neoclassical influence that seems to be invading everything today, led by the likes of Jean-Michel Blais (Watson’s compatriot) and Alexis Ffrench to Dirk Maassen and, to a lesser extent, Nils Frahm. The influence is perhaps most obvious in the pulsing, repetitive track Broken, which feels like a slow tarantella with a beautiful dramatic rise. The next track Turn Out the Lights heals and soothes, releasing any previous tensions, particularly thanks to the melodic contours and more varied instrumentation. This new album Wave is largely homogeneous, enhanced by Patrick Watson’s husky, sensual voice. However, after the first nine nostalgia-tinged ethereal songs, one would never have expected such a lavish finale: Here Comes the River is like a present-day Imagine. It’s an unforgettable piece, and perhaps too short after all. © Pierre-Yves Lascar/Qobuz

Alison Krauss is one of the artists who helped break down the barriers between bluegrass and mainstream country music, but even though country radio was willing to make room for her, Krauss never seemed to be interested in courting their favor. Krauss has always followed her own creative path and let the audience come to her with her mature and adventurous approach to acoustic music. Thirty years into her recording career, Krauss has made her most specifically "country" album to date, though it's a musical left turn into a very specific time and place in country's history. Released in 2017, Windy City is a polished and carefully crafted tribute to the countrypolitan sounds of the '50s and '60s, music that fused the emotional honesty and personal storytelling of country with smooth, sophisticated production dominated by pianos and strings, and the set list draws from old standards rather than contemporary compositions. Producer Buddy Cannon has designed Windy City as a showcase for Alison Krauss the vocalist, with her stellar fiddle work appearing on only one track. While pale shadows of contemporary country can be heard in these performances, numbers like "Losing You," "You Don't Know Me," and the title track owe far more to Patsy Cline's classic "Nashville sound" sides than anything that's come out of Music City in the past decade. Even when the music takes on a twangier approach on "Poison Love" and "It's Goodbye and So Long to You," Cannon's production and arrangements are steeped in the sounds of the past; while Krauss's bluegrass music always sounded fresh and contemporary in its approach, Windy City is the sound of her moving forward into the past. If this is a very different Alison Krauss album, it's also a good one; the accompaniment is slick, but it's brilliantly executed, and Cannon favors the clarity and emotional range of Krauss's voice. She meets the demands of the material beautifully, and she brings a warmth and subtle passion to songs like "Gentle on My Mind" and "You Don't Know Me" that makes you briefly forget the definitive recordings of these classics. It remains to be seen if Windy City is a brief creative detour for Alison Krauss or the first salvo of a new creative direction. But if Krauss wants to be the new voice of retro countrypolitan music, Windy City leaves no doubt that she has the talent and the intelligence to make it work, and this album is a richly satisfying experience.© Mark Deming /TiVo

Buoyed by the popularity of the hit contemporary pop ballad "Home," singer Michael Bublé's 2005 album, It's Time, clearly positioned the vocalist as the preeminent neo-crooner of his generation. Bublé's 2007 follow-up, Call Me Irresponsible, only further reinforced this notion. Not only had he come into his own as a lithe, swaggering stage performer with a knack for jazzing a crowd, but he had also grown into a virtuoso singer. Sure, he'd never drop nor deny the Sinatra comparisons, but now Bublé's voice -- breezy, tender, and controlled -- was his own. It didn't hurt, either, that he and his producers found the perfect balance of old-school popular song standards and more modern pop covers and originals that at once grounded his talent in tradition and pushed him toward the pop horizon. All of this is brought to bear on Bublé's 2009 effort, Crazy Love. Easily the singer's most stylistically wide-ranging album, it is also one of his brightest, poppiest, and most fun. Bublé kicks things off with the theatrical, epic ballad "Cry Me a River" and proceeds to milk the tune with burnished breath, eking out the drama line by line. It's over the top for sure, but Bublé takes you to the edge of the cliff, prepares to jump, and then gives you a knowing wink that says, not quite yet -- there's more fun to be had. And what fun it is with Bublé swinging through "All of Me," and killin' Van Morrison's classic "Crazy Love" with a light and yearning touch. And just as "Home" worked to showcase Bublé's own writing abilities, here we get the sunshine pop of "Haven't Met You Yet" -- a skippy, jaunty little song that brings to mind a mix of the Carpenters and Chicago. Throw in a rollicking and soulful duet with Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings on "Baby (You've Got What It Takes)," and a fabulously old-school close-harmony version of "Stardust" with Bublé backed by the vocal ensemble Naturally 7, and Crazy Love really starts to come together. All of this would be enough to fall in love with the album, but then Bublé goes and throws in a last minute overture by duetting with fellow Canadian singer/songwriter Ron Sexsmith on Sexsmith's ballad "Whatever It Takes." A devastating, afterglow-ready paean for romance, the song is a modern-day classic that pairs one of the most underrated and ignored songwriters of his generation next to one of the most ballyhooed in Bublé -- a classy move for sure. The result, like the rest of Crazy Love, is pure magic.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Australian metalcore group Parkway Drive return from the raw production of their controversial 2010 album Deep Blue with the more adventurous and nuanced follow-up, Atlas. Some fans and critics squabbled over Deep Blue's intent and production. The songs trudged on full-bore for most of the record's duration, relying heavily on chunky breakdowns and production so guitar-centric it obscured a lot of finer sonic points completely. Atlas was deftly produced in brilliant colors with help from metal producer Matt Hyde, accentuating some of the subtleties of an admittedly not very subtle band. While the band still leans on moshy breakdowns a good deal over the course of the album, technical dual guitar leads sneak into a lot of the better songs, varying from the tenuous and slow New Wave of British Heavy Metal-esque leads on "Dark Days" to straight-up speed shredding on "The Slow Surrender." Songs like "The River" are where Parkway Drive really diversify their sound, incorporating clean wandering guitars and even melodic female vocals into the intro before exploding into a creepingly melodic thrash workout. Title track "Atlas" also goes into experimental waters, with a treated drum sample and chiming acoustic guitars providing an unlikely backdrop for tortured vocals, eventually incorporating plucked orchestral instruments and a dramatic string section. Vocalist Winston McCall's guttural singing is one of the best parts of the band. His versatile growls, spoken parts, and gut-busting screams convey a sense of sincerity, whether it sounds desperate, ferocious, or simply impassioned. Though it will be difficult to catch a lot of what he's saying without a lyric sheet, McCall's lyrics tend away from the usual approach to topics of pain and anger that a lot of hardcore bands deal with, touching instead on environmental concerns, religious confusion, and disappointment in a thoughtful, ponderous way. While the album's not without its share of awkward moments (McCall's ham-fisted proclamation "THERE IS NO GOD!!" on "Sleight of Hand" comes off more like metal parody than actual sentiment), the album's depth and openness to straying away from typical devices of the genre make Atlas one of the more engaging and thought-provoking metalcore releases amid a sea of the interchangeable riffs and howls of other bands.© Fred Thomas /TiVo