Gone are the times when these masters of stoner rock waved their throbbing heavy guitars while scrunching their eyebrows… Twenty years after forming their band under the Californian sun and palm trees, Queens Of The Stone Age have skilfully evolved without ever selling out. With Villains, Josh Homme and his crew have even taken on a rather unexpected passenger in the name of… Mark Ronson! Two years after his giant hit Uptown Funk carried by the voice of Bruno Mars, the Londoner who exploded onto the mainstream scene with his work on Amy Winehouse’s Back To Black, finds himself producing QOTSA’s seventh album, which unlike usual doesn’t feature any guest. And the result fits in perfectly with this iconoclastic partnership: the band’s usual virile and sparkly rock’n’roll (irresistible on their single The Way You Used To Do) is beefed up by an energetic production. And Ronson’s funky and groovy DNA blends in with the Californians’, more Bowiesque than ever (obvious on Un-Reborn Again). By the way, isn’t the title Villains echoing the Thin White Duke’s Heroes? © MD/Qobuz

The Police never really broke up, they just stopped working together -- largely because they just couldn't stand playing together anymore and partially because Sting was itching to establish himself as a serious musician/songwriter on his own terms. Anxious to shed the mantle of pop star, he camped out at Eddy Grant's studio, picked up the guitar, and raided Wynton Marsalis' band for his new combo -- thereby instantly consigning his solo debut, The Dream of the Blue Turtles, to the critical shorthand of Sting's jazz record. Which is partially true (that's probably the best name for the meandering instrumental title track), but that gives the impression that this is really risky music, when he did, after all, rely on musicians who, at that stage, were revivalists just developing their own style, and then had them jam on mock-jazz grooves -- or, in the case of Branford Marsalis, layer soprano sax lines on top of pop songs. This, however, is just the beginning of the pretensions layered throughout The Dream of the Blue Turtles. Only twice does he delve into straightforward love songs -- the lovely measured "Consider Me Gone" and the mournful closer, "Fortress Around Your Heart" -- preferring to consider love in the abstract ("If You Love Somebody Set Them Free," one of his greatest solo singles, and the childish, faux-reggae singalong "Love Is the Seventh Wave"), write about children in war and in coal mines, revive a Police tune about heroin, ponder whether "Russians love their children too," and wander the streets of New Orleans as the vampire Lestat. This is a serious-minded album, but it's undercut by its very approach -- the glossy fusion that coats the entire album, the occasional grabs at worldbeat, and studious lyrics seem less pretentious largely because they're overshadowed by such bewilderingly showy moves as adapting Prokofiev for "Russians" and calling upon Anne Rice for inspiration. And that's the problem with the record: with every measure, every verse, Sting cries out for the respect of a composer, not a pop star, and it gets to be a little overwhelming when taken as a whole. As a handful of individual cuts -- "Fortress," "Consider Me Gone," "If You Love Somebody," "Children's Crusade" -- he proves that he's subtler and craftier than his peers, but only when he reins in his desire to show the class how much he's learned.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

After finally running out their 13-year, seven-plus album deal with a poisonously indifferent Atlantic Records via 2005's workmanlike Octavarium, progressive metal standard bearers Dream Theater took advantage of their well earned free agent status to enjoy a heated courtship from several interested labels, before eventually settling on the artistically simpatico Roadrunner. But, ironically, Dream Theater's first album for the label that heavy metal built, 2007's Systematic Chaos, was relatively accessible by the group's standards, complementing every epic and complex composition with a comparatively concise and hooky song, thus leaving it to its 2009 successor, Black Clouds & Silver Linings, to really flex the band's progressive metal muscles to their maximum girth. And in fact, Dream Theater's tenth long-player is about as dense and challenging as any album in their daunting discography (and certainly the darkest of spirit since 2003's Train of Thought), by emphasizing not only the virtuoso members' ever stupefying musicianship, but also their most aggressive and thoroughly metallic songwriting tendencies. Sixteen-minute opener "A Nightmare to Remember" and its half-as-long follow-up, "A Rite of Passage" (later edited further for release as the album's first single), quickly establish this agenda via frequently thrash-paced staccato riffing, some of John Petrucci's most blistering guitar solos ever, and the return of drummer Mike Portnoy's syncopated growls (no doubt inspired by his pal Mikael Åkerfeldt of Opeth), providing contrast for singer James LaBrie's soaring melodic elegance. Third track "Whither" -- a tender ballad and mere babe at five minutes in length -- is this album's only concession to commerce (and one of Dream Theater's better stabs at the form it is, too); but after that it's right back to prog rock in excelsis, via the final chapter in the band's "AA Saga," "The Shattered Fortress," which references songs from previous albums such as "The Glass Prison" and "The Root of All Evil," in emulation of the "Conceptual Continuity Clues" method favored by one of Portnoy's heroes, Frank Zappa. Only two, not surprisingly massive song suites remain now, and interestingly, both pay evident tribute to Rush! First up, "The Best of Times" boasts an extremely Alex Lifeson-like lead guitar motif and verse chords that were clearly evolved from "The Spirit of Radio," later showcasing the most versatile and classically steeped performance on this record by keyboard wizard Jordan Rudess. Second, the revealingly named "The Count of Tuscany" (surely a thinly veiled allusion to the Rush's famed instrumental, "La Villa Strangiato") catches Portnoy in the act of outright Neil Peart worship, colluding with Petrucci on their own version of "Xanadu" before leading their bandmates into another heady prog-metal magnum opus brimming with more ideas, notes, and time changes over 19 minutes than most bands bother with over a ten album career. That last bit sound at all familiar? That's because, at the end of the day, one must admit that Black Clouds & Silver Linings, for all its abundantly positive qualities and minor but clear distinctions from prior efforts, is still an archetypal Dream Theater album; one that's unlikely to broaden their audience all that much, but is conversely guaranteed to thrill their hardcore converts with its renewed devotion to the most exigent and stimulating facets of the band's chosen musical domain.© Eduardo Rivadavia /TiVo

John Williams was the man of the moment in soundtrack music from 1977 onward, and Superman: The Movie was very much the culmination of his first wave of international renown. Casting aside his over-reliance on the works of Holst, Ravel, and Korngold, he delivered up a score that still -- 30-plus years later -- is lively, playful, mysterious, and, most of all, stylistically original and filled with unexpected touches that still surprise when heard as pure music. Williams and the London Symphony Orchestra by this time played like he was joined telepathically to the musicians, and also recognized just how closely and widely their work would be heard in the wake of the huge sales on the soundtracks from Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Thus, the playing here is impeccable, from the finely nuanced, brooding passages depicting the planet Krypton to the heroic theme associated with the title character. And they are a delight to hear, though much more so in the remastered and expanded double-CD edition from Rhino/Warner Archive, which improves the sound dramatically. There's still a lot that one will recognize from established composers, and that Williams even "steals" from himself, but he's got it all finely developed here in a more mature style that makes it worthwhile hearing more than once.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

The Police never really broke up, they just stopped working together -- largely because they just couldn't stand playing together anymore and partially because Sting was itching to establish himself as a serious musician/songwriter on his own terms. Anxious to shed the mantle of pop star, he camped out at Eddy Grant's studio, picked up the guitar, and raided Wynton Marsalis' band for his new combo -- thereby instantly consigning his solo debut, The Dream of the Blue Turtles, to the critical shorthand of Sting's jazz record. Which is partially true (that's probably the best name for the meandering instrumental title track), but that gives the impression that this is really risky music, when he did, after all, rely on musicians who, at that stage, were revivalists just developing their own style, and then had them jam on mock-jazz grooves -- or, in the case of Branford Marsalis, layer soprano sax lines on top of pop songs. This, however, is just the beginning of the pretensions layered throughout The Dream of the Blue Turtles. Only twice does he delve into straightforward love songs -- the lovely measured "Consider Me Gone" and the mournful closer, "Fortress Around Your Heart" -- preferring to consider love in the abstract ("If You Love Somebody Set Them Free," one of his greatest solo singles, and the childish, faux-reggae singalong "Love Is the Seventh Wave"), write about children in war and in coal mines, revive a Police tune about heroin, ponder whether "Russians love their children too," and wander the streets of New Orleans as the vampire Lestat. This is a serious-minded album, but it's undercut by its very approach -- the glossy fusion that coats the entire album, the occasional grabs at worldbeat, and studious lyrics seem less pretentious largely because they're overshadowed by such bewilderingly showy moves as adapting Prokofiev for "Russians" and calling upon Anne Rice for inspiration. And that's the problem with the record: with every measure, every verse, Sting cries out for the respect of a composer, not a pop star, and it gets to be a little overwhelming when taken as a whole. As a handful of individual cuts -- "Fortress," "Consider Me Gone," "If You Love Somebody," "Children's Crusade" -- he proves that he's subtler and craftier than his peers, but only when he reins in his desire to show the class how much he's learned.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Despite the band's membership being at their busiest, what with Mark Tremonti releasing a solo album, Myles Kennedy working with Slash, Scott Phillips breaking ground on a new supergroup, and Creed touring and working on new material, Fortress, the fourth album from Alter Bridge, finds the band returning to the scene with an album that feels anything but spread thin. Given the title, the album seems to bring forth the notion of the band being a kind of creative haven for its members, a hard rock sanctuary where they're able to just pick up and rock, no matter what they might be doing with themselves on the outside. Bringing back their fine mix of melody and drive, Alter Bridge create a style of hard rock that really soars, exploding upward thanks to the thrust provided by Tremonti's massive guitar work and Kennedy's high-flying vocals. While the album does have its quieter, more downtempo moments, Alter Bridge seem aware enough of them to always pull things back toward hard rock before they go full-on power ballad, giving the album a feeling of momentum that helps to keep it moving. Given how busy the bandmembers have been with other projects, it would've been easy for them to phone this one in. Instead, Fortress is a driving album that not only doesn't feel tired or stale, but is a monster of an album that makes a pretty solid case for being some of Alter Bridge's strongest and most dynamic work to date.© Gregory Heaney /TiVo

Recorded during Alter Bridge's two-night run at London's world-famous Royal Albert Hall, this collection sees the band run through 21 of their biggest hits. Backed by the 52-piece Parallax Orchestra, the album includes fan favorites such as "Blackbird," "Addicted to Pain," and "In Loving Memory."© Rich Wilson /TiVo