Who's Next is not an album lacking for reissues. In addition to a deluxe edition from 2003, there have also been multiple audiophile editions and remasters of the album since its 1971 release. So what could a "super deluxe edition" possibly contain? Quite a bit, as it turns out. As even casual Who fans know, the genesis of Who's Next was as Lifehouse, a multimedia rock opera even more ambitious than Tommy. Pete Townshend had developed a bizarre, dystopian story that somehow merged his devotion to Indian guru Meher Baba, his recent fascination with synthesizers, and the idea that the only thing that could save humanity from a test-tube-bound future was "real rock 'n' roll." Yeah, the aftereffects of the '60s were wild. After some live shows at the Young Vic in London and a series of marathon recording sessions, a 16-song tracklist was finalized, but by this point, it was collectively decided—both creatively and commercially—that perhaps another concept-dense double album might not be the best studio follow-up to Tommy. So, eight Lifehouse songs were re-cut and one new song ("My Wife") was recorded and the leaner, meaner Who's Next was released in August 1971. The album was both an instant success and has become an undisputed part of the classic rock canon, thanks to the inclusion of absolutely iconic tracks like "Won't Get Fooled Again," "Baba O'Riley," and "Behind Blue Eyes."While one could make an argument that the taut and focused power of Who's Next inadvertently proved the point of the Lifehouse story (namely, that rock 'n' roll is most effective when it's at its most primal), it's important to remember that Who's Next was also a giant artistic leap forward for the Who, as it found them at the peak of their powers as a pummeling rock band and as a band willing to be experimental and artful in their approach to being a pummeling rock band. (If any evidence is needed of the group's unrivaled power, check out take 13 of "Won't Get Fooled Again" on this set, which is so immediate and electric that it could easily be mistaken for a concert performance.) While several Lifehouse tracks found their way to other Who and Townshend records, getting a sense of the contours of the project has been difficult. But this massive, 155-track set creates those lines thanks to the inclusion of multiple Townshend demos as well as recording sessions of Life House tracks that occurred both before and after the release of Who's Next, and, most notably, two freshly mixed live shows from 1971 (including one of the Young Vic shows) that provided both the energy and, in some cases the basic tracks, for the album versions. While nothing on this bursting-at-the-seams edition overrides the all-killer-no-filler approach of Who's Next, it does provide plenty of long-desired context and documentation for what made that record so powerful. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Mariah Carey has been stung by critical charges that she's all vocal bombast and no subtlety, soul, or shading. Her solution was to make an album in which her celebrated octave-leaping voice would be downplayed and she could demonstrate her ability to sing softly and coolly. Well, she was partly successful; she trimmed the volume on Music Box. Unfortunately, she also cut the energy level; Carey sounds detached on several selections. She scored a couple of huge hits, "Hero" and "Dreamlover," where she did inject some personality and intensity into the leads. Most other times, Carey blended into the background and let the tracks guide her, instead of pushing and exploding through them. It was wise for Carey to display other elements of her approach, but sometimes excessive spirit is preferable to an absence of passion.© Ron Wynn /TiVo

On his eleventh studio album Blockbusta, New York's elder rap statesman Busta Rhymes rubs elbows with a cast of younger artists from generations that followed in his footsteps, experimenting with updated production approaches even while collaborating with producers who came into their own in the 2000s. This results in a lively but sometimes disjointed collection, with Swizz Beatz turning in funky, sample-based instrumentals like the Coi Leray duet "Luxury Life" or "The Return of Mansa Musa," Pharrell crafting dancehall-informed beats for "Tings" and the minimal, Burna Boy-featuring "Roboshotta," and an uncharacteristically trappy intro produced by Timbaland. Busta adapts to match his collaborators throughout Blockbusta, keeping up with DaBaby's energy level on party banger "Big Everything," smoothing things out on the romantic, island-flavored R&B of "Open Wide" with Shenseea, trading venomous verses with Kodak Black and Quavo on trap tracks, and sounding like a featured artist on the simmering pop of the BIA-led "Beach Ball." Busta Rhymes aims for as much as possible on Blockbusta, with mixed results. Some tracks sound stuck in Y2K-era production, and these along with songs built on tired beat-flips of classic hip hop tracks feel overly-nostalgic. When Busta tries to work his fluid rhyme styles into more modernized instrumentals, it's never quite the right fit, either. Blockbusta is not without its instances of fun and excitement, but for the most part, Busta Rhymes sounds like he's reaching for something different on almost every track and not quite grabbing ahold of any of it.© TiVo Staff /TiVo

Madi Diaz has been poised to be the next big thing since 2007 but, even as she's been a favorite of Nashville insiders for years, her albums never really captured her magic; 2021's History of a Feeling came close, though, and opened some doors for the Pennsylvania native. (After watching her open arena shows for him, Harry Styles brought Diaz on board as a member of his touring band.) Weird Faith, Diaz's second album for ANTI-, manifests promise and potential fulfilled. She sounds better than ever on these Americana/indie songs, and her writing is at a new level. Focusing on a cohesive theme—the potential lifespan of a new relationship—has given Diaz purpose and intent, enriching her storytelling. "This record is about the beginning of love, and saying every feeling out loud, when I feel it, for better or worse because I can't help it," Diaz has said. Weird Faith opens with Diaz asking, "What the fuck do you want?" but this is no snarl. On "Same Risk," she's curious and pragmatic, wanting to make sure both parties are on the same page before falling head over heels: "Do you think this could ruin your life?/ 'Cause I could see it ruining mine." Still, Diaz knows that sometimes reassurance isn't enough in the pink cloud of a honeymoon phase. On "Everything Almost" ("Dad always used to say, 'You can have everything/ But not all at the same time'"), with its wonderfully caffeinated bounce, Diaz allows herself to imagine a happy future—then worries about being devastated if her parents are no longer there to see it. She ponders a new love's past, and questions why their ex still calls, on "Girlfriend," quietly driven by nervous guitar. And when things get messy, Diaz playfully explores her tangle of confusing emotions with an internal game of kill, fuck or marry ("KFM"), all set to upbeat café pop-country.Throughout, she looks for answers and even diving intervention, as on "God Person" ("I'm not a God person/ but I'm never not searching"), which is imbued with a simple guitar line set to an encouraging rhythm, almost like coursing adrenaline. "Don't Do Me Good" riffs on classic country ideas à la Tammy Wynette as Diaz wrestles with a stay-or-go dilemma. She trades verses with Kacey Musgraves, and the more famous singer's honey-warm tone is a perfect complement to Diaz's pretty, plainspoken style; when both unleash a torrent of emotion, it's powerful. The title track, written with the incomparable Lori McKenna ("Girl Crush" for Little Big Town, "Cry Pretty" for Carrie Underwood), is reminiscent of Musgraves' work. And "Obsessive Thought" is terrific: Charged, electric, a flashpoint—the sudden swell of instrumentation like Diaz cracking open her chest to show the world how powerfully her heart is beating. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

We’ve been waiting four years for this. After the brilliant Reflektor in 2013, Arcade Fire have returned with Everything Now - their fifth album packed with explosive contrasts. For the occasion, the Canadian-American band surrounded themselves with musical geniuses: Thomas Bengalter from Daft Punk, Steve Mackey from Pulp and Geff Barrow from Portishead. The resulting album is transfigured and multifaceted. The synths are fired up and raring to go, the beats stable and assured. Everything Now is the kind of track that’s made to be performed in a stadium. Signs of Life follows in the footsteps of Blondie, the Cure and the Pet Shop Boys, while Electric Blue crosses over into to the Talking Heads’ territory. Recorded for the first time outside of Montreal, Paris and New Orleans, this 12-track album goes deeper than it’s perceptive and melancholic lyrics - it’s orchestrated by a powerful mix of synth-pop, new wave eighties, disco and even americana (such as in the song Put Your Money on Me). We Don’t Deserve Love provides us with a smooth landing to the journey at the end of the album, in which we find Daniel Lanois on the pedal steel guitar. We know one thing for sure - summer this year will be spent indoors, on the dance floor.

Carly Rae Jepsen may not be the most prolific pop star, but when she releases an album, she makes it count. On 2015's E-MO-TION, she proved just how much more there was to her music than "Call Me Maybe" as she expanded the sugar rush of 2012's Kiss into pop songs that were equally joyous and introspective. Four years after E-MO-TION, she makes another leap forward with Dedicated, an album that reflects her growing maturity as a songwriter as well as the pop music trends of its time. Jepsen trades E-MO-TION's deep dive into '80s nostalgia for a more streamlined approach on "No Drug Like Me" and "Automatically in Love," where swelling synths and loping beats nod to tropical pop while adding sophistication to her swooning lyrics. However, some of the album's most exciting moments ignore what's fashionable. From its booming synth drums to its vocodered backing vocals and closing sax solo, "Want You in My Room" proves that Jepsen is still second to none at crafting pop songs that are infectious precisely because they're so quirky. That goes double for "Everything He Needs," which turns "He Needs Me" from Harry Nilsson's Popeye soundtrack into a winning -- if slightly unhinged -- confection of a song. Jepsen also takes the opportunity to reveal different sides of her persona, as well as her music, on Dedicated: "I'll Be Your Girl" uncovers her dark side, setting post-breakup jealousy and voyeurism to ricocheting, ska-tinged sounds that call to mind No Doubt and Santigold. Despite all of these changes, Dedicated never feels disjointed. This is partly because of Jepsen's abundant charisma -- years after "Call Me Maybe," she remains the pop star next door -- and partly because of her increasing skill as a songwriter. She still excels at crystallizing the complex ways happiness and heartache often masquerade as each other into deceptively simple pop gems, but this time she gives her relatable lyrics and irresistible hooks an even greater scope. The taut, disco-tinged opener "Julien" nails how the longing for an old flame can be just as powerful, if not more so, than the actual time with them was; on the flip side, "Happy Not Knowing" shuts down a potential lover as a means of avoiding any more heartbreak. She digs deeper into love's complicated nuances on clever, vulnerable songs like "The Sound" and "Right Words Wrong Time," both of which turn disappointing relationships into undeniable earworms. Later on, she saves some of her most indelible songwriting for "Real Love," a soaring tribute to all of love's possibilities. Fortunately, Jepsen is just as committed to her music as she is to the ideal of true love, and the way she's grown without sacrificing her uniqueness makes Dedicated a master class in what a 2010s pop album can be.© Heather Phares /TiVo

Trumpeter Ralph Alessi's masterful technique and artfully burnished tone are on full display on It's Always Now, where he is joined by pianist Florian Weber, bassist Bänz Oester, and drummer Gerry Hemingway. The players consistently impress with their moment-to-moment invention and nuanced interpretations. Alessi's writing incorporates both free jazz and modern composition, and his playing taps into extended technique as well as the traditional resources of his instrument. "Hypnagogic" is the first of five duo improvisations by Alessi and Weber, who are frequent collaborators.  Early in the track, trumpet tones ping and echo like sonar pulses as rippling piano ascends. Throughout, Alessi works wonders with a constrained approach, varying his attack to create a variety of subtle effects. The piece makes for a mysterious, open-ended introduction to an excellent album. "Diagonal Lady," a ballad suffused with noir romanticism, starts off with a moody bass introduction by Oester that evokes the late Charlie Haden.  Alessi's solo might be his most straight-ahead statement on It's Always Now; it's also gorgeous. After providing exquisitely spare piano accompaniment, Weber steps forward to roll out a beguiling set of supple lines. Hemingway's brushwork keeps the music moving, even as he adds nice colors. At the beginning of "His Hopes, His Fears, His Tears," Alessi breathily sketches out a melody before being joined by Hemingway's artfully stray hits and Weber's agitated fingerings. Soon the instrumental threads all start to coalesce. Then the music moves into free jazz territory where the band creates some of the album's fiercest sounds. The last track, another trumpet and piano duet, is the aptly titled "Tumbleweed." Horn and keyboard lines deftly unfold, and as the mood darkens, there is a sense of moving through a transfixing landscape, one that lingers after the final notes have fallen away. © Fred Cisterna/Qobuz 

First off, no, this box set doesn’t contain the Complete Smiths, not even in its super-deluxe edition containing vinyl replicas of the group’s singles and LPs. Stray B-sides don’t appear here, nor do the scrapped sessions for the first album and a few other heavily bootlegged numbers, but what is here are sterling remasters -- allegedly supervised by Johnny Marr -- of the band’s four albums, three compilations, and lone live album, all released during the band’s exceedingly brief lifespan. What matters is that the remastering is exceptional, the best comparison being the Beatles 2009 remasters, where layers of grime seemed to be removed from familiar recordings, so the songs sounded vibrant and alive, yet didn’t sound tweaked, buttressed, or burnished for a new millennium. That is what makes The Complete Smiths essential: no surprises in terms of material, but the presentation is exquisite, sounding familiar and fresh, a stunning re-presentation of records that were teetering on the edge of over-familiarity. Guitars and vocals pop equally, the original mixes simply brightened, a task harder to achieve than it is to imagine, the music sounding part of its time yet easily transcending it. Far from a vulgar picture, this is what Smiths fans have been waiting years for.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Judging only by his earlier, bare-bones indie-label albums, it seemed highly unlikely that Elliott Smith would turn into the ambitious arranger and studio craftsman of his lushly textured Dreamworks debut, XO. A big part of that shift, of course, was the fact that Smith had major-label finances and equipment to work with for the first time; this allowed him to fuse his melancholy, slightly punky folk with the rich sonics of pop artists like the Beatles and Beach Boys. Smith continues in that direction for the follow-up, Figure 8, an even more sonically detailed effort laden with orchestrations and inventive production touches. With a couple of exceptions, the sound of Smith's melancholy has largely shifted from edgy to sighingly graceful, although his lyrics are as dark as ever. Even if the subject matter stays in familiar territory, though, the backing tracks are another matter -- a gorgeous, sweeping kaleidoscope of layered instruments and sonic textures. Smith fleshes his songs out with assurance and imagination, and that newfound sense of mastery is ultimately the record's real emphasis; there's seemingly a subtle new wrinkle to the sound of every track, and yet it's all easily recognizable as trademark Smith. Even if it is a very impressive statement overall, Figure 8 isn't quite the masterpiece it wants to be -- there's something about the pacing that just makes the record feel long (at over 52 minutes, it is the longest album in Smith's catalog), and it can sometimes float away from the listener's consciousness. Perhaps it's that Smith's songwriting does slip on occasion here, which means that those weaker tracks sink under the weight of arrangements they aren't equipped to support. Still, most of the songs do reveal their strengths with repeated plays, and it's worth the price of a few nondescript items to reap the rewards of the vast majority. Fans who miss the intimacy of his Kill Rock Stars records won't find much to rejoice about here, but overall, Figure 8 comes tantalizingly close to establishing Elliott Smith as the consummate pop craftsman he's bidding to become.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Could Dublin be at the center of another post-punk earthquake? Following in the footsteps of Fontaines D.C and Girl Band, with whom they shared a rehearsal space, here come The Murder Capital’s 5 Irishmen and their urban claustrophobia. They’re post-apocalyptic, tender, furious and emotional. Taking from the likes of Joy Division, The Cure and Fugazi, their first album is titled When I Have Fears after the famous John Keats poem. As always, frontman James McGovern has a calculated approach when it comes to his band: “It would be too easy for us to write an album of ten punk songs at 170 bpm; we could deliver that. It’s a reflection of what’s inside our heads and there is no way we can be angry for that amount of time”. At the heart of that nuanced manifesto, equal amounts brooding romanticism and angry outbursts are the channels for McGovern’s socio-political concerns. He traces When I Have Fear’s inception to a traumatic event: “I had a very close friend of mine take his own life in February and we wanted to reflect the neglect held towards mental healthcare in Ireland. Unnecessary deaths happen due to neglect from the State, or from general emotional intelligence from our society. My friend simply couldn’t afford the help he needed.” The baritone drew from the Emerald Isle’s vast literary tradition in order to paint a scathing portrayal of youth communities plagued by binge culture. His message is underlined by razor-sharp arrangements that verge on the minimal. Their simplicity contributes to the sinister sense of urgency in many of the songs. Nonetheless, Diarmuid Brennan’s hyperactive drumming – listen to those hi-hats! – on Don’t Cling To Life, as well as the piano and the somber growls on How The Streets Adore Me Now demonstrate that the band is more than capable of going beyond the formal frameworks set in place during the early-2000s post-punk revival. When I Have Fears is 100% a Dublin record, transcending the cold and the misery without ever giving up on sincerity and power – A thunderous and sensitive Qobuzissime. © Alexis Renaudat/Qobuz