Generally considered the career breakthrough, and some would even say pinnacle, of the Allman Brothers' career, the 1971 concert album At Fillmore East was a huge success for the band. A landmark of classic rock, At Fillmore East, recorded over several nights in March 1971, captured the live intensity and almost psychic group interplay between the bandmembers, largely centered on the guitar tête-à-tête of Duane Allman and Dickey Betts. Also integral to the Georgia band's sound were the bluesy, soul-inflected vocals and organ playing of Gregg Allman, on whose shoulders much of the band's future would rest after the tragic death of his brother Duane in a motorcycle accident in October 1971, a mere four days after At Fillmore East was certified gold. However, despite the group's undeniably innovative mix of rock, country, blues, and jazz, it was producer Tom Dowd who helped craft the live sessions into a remarkably kinetic and timely album. Dowd, who had previously helmed the group's second album, 1970's Idlewild South, skillfully edited the group's various performances together, maximizing the best bits and, as in the case of "You Don't Love Me," combined the first section with the last section to form a concise, masterful take. The 2014 six-disc box set The 1971 Fillmore East Recordings brings together all of the unedited recordings the Allman Brothers made during their two-night, four-show stand at the Fillmore East. That means longtime fans get four versions of the band's set opener, "Statesboro Blues," as well as other cuts the group repeated each set. Thankfully, the Allman Brothers rarely played a song the same way twice, and every track here holds something surprising and unexpected to discover. Also included is the group's June 1971 show closing out the Fillmore East for owner Bill Graham, who had decided to shut the venue down. Combine all of the music here, much previously unreleased, with John Lynskey's heartfelt and informative liner notes detailing all of the concert drama, both on stage and off, and The 1971 Fillmore East Recordings ends up working as both a completist anthology and a joyful rock tribute.© Matt Collar /TiVo

At the time of its release in March 1990 -- just a mere two years after It Takes a Nation of Millions -- nearly all of the attention spent on Public Enemy's third album, Fear of a Black Planet, was concentrated on the dying controversy over Professor Griff's anti-Semitic statements of 1989, and how leader Chuck D bungled the public relations regarding his dismissal. References to the controversy are scattered throughout the album -- and it fueled the incendiary lead single, "Welcome to the Terrordome" -- but years later, after the furor has died down, what remains is a remarkable piece of modern art, a record that ushered in the '90s in a hail of multiculturalism and kaleidoscopic confusion. It also easily stands as the Bomb Squad's finest musical moment. Where Millions was all about aggression -- layered aggression, but aggression nonetheless -- Fear of a Black Planet encompasses everything, touching on seductive grooves, relentless beats, hard funk, and dub reggae without blinking an eye. All the more impressive is that this is one of the records made during the golden age of sampling, before legal limits were set on sampling, so this is a wild, endlessly layered record filled with familiar sounds you can't place; it's nearly as heady as the Beastie Boys' magnum opus, Paul's Boutique, in how it pulls from anonymous and familiar sources to create something totally original and modern. While the Bomb Squad were casting a wider net, Chuck D's writing was tighter than ever, with each track tackling a specific topic (apart from the aforementioned "Welcome to the Terrordome," whose careening rhymes and paranoid confusion are all the more effective when surrounded by such detailed arguments), a sentiment that spills over to Flavor Flav, who delivers the pungent black humor of "911 Is a Joke," perhaps the best-known song here. Chuck gets himself into trouble here and there -- most notoriously on "Meet the G That Killed Me," where he skirts with homophobia -- but by and large, he's never been so eloquent, angry, or persuasive as he is here. This isn't as revolutionary or as potent as Millions, but it holds together better, and as a piece of music, this is the best hip-hop has ever had to offer.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

At the time of its release in March 1990 -- just a mere two years after It Takes a Nation of Millions -- nearly all of the attention spent on Public Enemy's third album, Fear of a Black Planet, was concentrated on the dying controversy over Professor Griff's anti-Semitic statements of 1989, and how leader Chuck D bungled the public relations regarding his dismissal. References to the controversy are scattered throughout the album -- and it fueled the incendiary lead single, "Welcome to the Terrordome" -- but years later, after the furor has died down, what remains is a remarkable piece of modern art, a record that ushered in the '90s in a hail of multiculturalism and kaleidoscopic confusion. It also easily stands as the Bomb Squad's finest musical moment. Where Millions was all about aggression -- layered aggression, but aggression nonetheless -- Fear of a Black Planet encompasses everything, touching on seductive grooves, relentless beats, hard funk, and dub reggae without blinking an eye. All the more impressive is that this is one of the records made during the golden age of sampling, before legal limits were set on sampling, so this is a wild, endlessly layered record filled with familiar sounds you can't place; it's nearly as heady as the Beastie Boys' magnum opus, Paul's Boutique, in how it pulls from anonymous and familiar sources to create something totally original and modern. While the Bomb Squad were casting a wider net, Chuck D's writing was tighter than ever, with each track tackling a specific topic (apart from the aforementioned "Welcome to the Terrordome," whose careening rhymes and paranoid confusion are all the more effective when surrounded by such detailed arguments), a sentiment that spills over to Flavor Flav, who delivers the pungent black humor of "911 Is a Joke," perhaps the best-known song here. Chuck gets himself into trouble here and there -- most notoriously on "Meet the G That Killed Me," where he skirts with homophobia -- but by and large, he's never been so eloquent, angry, or persuasive as he is here. This isn't as revolutionary or as potent as Millions, but it holds together better, and as a piece of music, this is the best hip-hop has ever had to offer.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Generally considered the career breakthrough, and some would even say pinnacle, of the Allman Brothers' career, the 1971 concert album At Fillmore East was a huge success for the band. A landmark of classic rock, At Fillmore East, recorded over several nights in March 1971, captured the live intensity and almost psychic group interplay between the bandmembers, largely centered on the guitar tête-à-tête of Duane Allman and Dickey Betts. Also integral to the Georgia band's sound were the bluesy, soul-inflected vocals and organ playing of Gregg Allman, on whose shoulders much of the band's future would rest after the tragic death of his brother Duane in a motorcycle accident in October 1971, a mere four days after At Fillmore East was certified gold. However, despite the group's undeniably innovative mix of rock, country, blues, and jazz, it was producer Tom Dowd who helped craft the live sessions into a remarkably kinetic and timely album. Dowd, who had previously helmed the group's second album, 1970's Idlewild South, skillfully edited the group's various performances together, maximizing the best bits and, as in the case of "You Don't Love Me," combined the first section with the last section to form a concise, masterful take. The 2014 six-disc box set The 1971 Fillmore East Recordings brings together all of the unedited recordings the Allman Brothers made during their two-night, four-show stand at the Fillmore East. That means longtime fans get four versions of the band's set opener, "Statesboro Blues," as well as other cuts the group repeated each set. Thankfully, the Allman Brothers rarely played a song the same way twice, and every track here holds something surprising and unexpected to discover. Also included is the group's June 1971 show closing out the Fillmore East for owner Bill Graham, who had decided to shut the venue down. Combine all of the music here, much previously unreleased, with John Lynskey's heartfelt and informative liner notes detailing all of the concert drama, both on stage and off, and The 1971 Fillmore East Recordings ends up working as both a completist anthology and a joyful rock tribute.© Matt Collar /TiVo

After topping the R&B/Hip-Hop charts in 2015 with his sci-fi concept sophomore album, The Incredible True Story, Logic returned the following year with his fifth mixtape, Bobby Tarantino. His seventh release in as many years and fifth mixtape overall, Bobby Tarantino arrived unexpectedly in July on Def Jam/Visionary Music Group. Even without prior notice, it debuted at number 16 on the Billboard 200. Featuring "Flexicution," his first Billboard Hot 100 solo single, the mixtape also featured spots by Pusha T ("Wrist"), Juicy J ("Super Mario World"), and vocals from Jessica Andren, John Lindahl, and George DeNoto.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Reason to Believe: The Complete Mercury Studio Recordings rounds up three discs' worth (56 tracks) of primo Rod Stewart, providing listeners with a complete reading of his Mercury period, which lasted from 1969 to 1974. The box set includes the contents of The Rod Stewart Album (1979), Gasoline Alley (1970), Every Picture Tells a Story (1971), Never a Dull Moment (1972), and Smiler (1974) in their entireties, as well as a host of non-album rarities to sweeten the already liberally honeyed pot.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

At the time of its release in March 1990 -- just a mere two years after It Takes a Nation of Millions -- nearly all of the attention spent on Public Enemy's third album, Fear of a Black Planet, was concentrated on the dying controversy over Professor Griff's anti-Semitic statements of 1989, and how leader Chuck D bungled the public relations regarding his dismissal. References to the controversy are scattered throughout the album -- and it fueled the incendiary lead single, "Welcome to the Terrordome" -- but years later, after the furor has died down, what remains is a remarkable piece of modern art, a record that ushered in the '90s in a hail of multiculturalism and kaleidoscopic confusion. It also easily stands as the Bomb Squad's finest musical moment. Where Millions was all about aggression -- layered aggression, but aggression nonetheless -- Fear of a Black Planet encompasses everything, touching on seductive grooves, relentless beats, hard funk, and dub reggae without blinking an eye. All the more impressive is that this is one of the records made during the golden age of sampling, before legal limits were set on sampling, so this is a wild, endlessly layered record filled with familiar sounds you can't place; it's nearly as heady as the Beastie Boys' magnum opus, Paul's Boutique, in how it pulls from anonymous and familiar sources to create something totally original and modern. While the Bomb Squad were casting a wider net, Chuck D's writing was tighter than ever, with each track tackling a specific topic (apart from the aforementioned "Welcome to the Terrordome," whose careening rhymes and paranoid confusion are all the more effective when surrounded by such detailed arguments), a sentiment that spills over to Flavor Flav, who delivers the pungent black humor of "911 Is a Joke," perhaps the best-known song here. Chuck gets himself into trouble here and there -- most notoriously on "Meet the G That Killed Me," where he skirts with homophobia -- but by and large, he's never been so eloquent, angry, or persuasive as he is here. This isn't as revolutionary or as potent as Millions, but it holds together better, and as a piece of music, this is the best hip-hop has ever had to offer.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

This best-of basically covers the years 1979 to 1994, though it reaches back to 1964 for Marianne Faithfull's first recording and first hit, "As Tears Go By," and includes "She," slated for the upcoming 1995 album A Secret Life. Five of the 11 songs are drawn from Faithfull's strongest album, 1979's Broken English, including the bitter title track and "Why'd Ya Do It." Otherwise, compiler Chris Blackwell makes little attempt to present a balance among Faithfull's recordings -- there is nothing at all from Dangerous Acquaintances or A Child's Adventure, and only one track each from Strange Weather and Blazing Away. But there is a good newly recorded cover of Patti Smith's "Ghost Dance" co-produced by Keith Richards and featuring other members of the Rolling Stones, and Blackwell rescues Faithfull's rendition of the title theme for the movie Trouble in Mind from the soundtrack album. It adds up to an excellent compilation that highlights Faithfull's strengths as a singer.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

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Generally considered the career breakthrough, and some would even say pinnacle, of the Allman Brothers' career, the 1971 concert album At Fillmore East was a huge success for the band. A landmark of classic rock, At Fillmore East, recorded over several nights in March 1971, captured the live intensity and almost psychic group interplay between the bandmembers, largely centered on the guitar tête-à-tête of Duane Allman and Dickey Betts. Also integral to the Georgia band's sound were the bluesy, soul-inflected vocals and organ playing of Gregg Allman, on whose shoulders much of the band's future would rest after the tragic death of his brother Duane in a motorcycle accident in October 1971, a mere four days after At Fillmore East was certified gold. However, despite the group's undeniably innovative mix of rock, country, blues, and jazz, it was producer Tom Dowd who helped craft the live sessions into a remarkably kinetic and timely album. Dowd, who had previously helmed the group's second album, 1970's Idlewild South, skillfully edited the group's various performances together, maximizing the best bits and, as in the case of "You Don't Love Me," combined the first section with the last section to form a concise, masterful take. The 2014 six-disc box set The 1971 Fillmore East Recordings brings together all of the unedited recordings the Allman Brothers made during their two-night, four-show stand at the Fillmore East. That means longtime fans get four versions of the band's set opener, "Statesboro Blues," as well as other cuts the group repeated each set. Thankfully, the Allman Brothers rarely played a song the same way twice, and every track here holds something surprising and unexpected to discover. Also included is the group's June 1971 show closing out the Fillmore East for owner Bill Graham, who had decided to shut the venue down. Combine all of the music here, much previously unreleased, with John Lynskey's heartfelt and informative liner notes detailing all of the concert drama, both on stage and off, and The 1971 Fillmore East Recordings ends up working as both a completist anthology and a joyful rock tribute.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Download not available