It was designed to be a blockbuster and it was. Prior to Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Elton John had hits -- his second album, Elton John, went Top 10 in the U.S. and U.K., and he had smash singles in "Crocodile Rock" and "Daniel" -- but this 1973 album was a statement of purpose spilling over two LPs, which was all the better to showcase every element of John's spangled personality. Opening with the 11-minute melodramatic exercise "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" -- as prog as Elton ever got -- Goodbye Yellow Brick Road immediately embraces excess but also tunefulness, as John immediately switches over to "Candle in the Wind" and "Bennie & the Jets," two songs that form the core of his canon and go a long way toward explaining the over-stuffed appeal of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. This was truly the debut of Elton John the entertainer, the pro who knows how to satisfy every segment of his audience, and this eagerness to please means the record is giddy but also overwhelming, a rush of too much muchness. Still, taken a side at a time, or even a song a time, it is a thing of wonder, serving up such perfectly sculpted pop songs as "Grey Seal," full-bore rockers as "Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting" and "Your Sister Can't Twist (But She Can Rock & Roll)," cinematic ballads like "I've Seen That Movie Too," throwbacks to the dusty conceptual sweep of Tumbleweed Connection in the form of "The Ballad of Danny Bailey (1909-34)," and preposterous glam novelties, like "Jamaica Jerk-Off." This touched on everything John did before, and suggested ways he'd move in the near-future, and that sprawl is always messy but usually delightful, a testament to Elton's '70s power as a star and a musician.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 29 in B flat major, Op. 106 ("Hammerklavier"), and Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor, Op. 35 ("Funeral March"), are both recorded with great frequency, although rarely, if ever, on the same album. The pairing may have been one factor that put this release by pianist Beatrice Rana on classical best-seller charts in the spring of 2024, and another may well have been this young pianist's undoubted charisma. Rana is inventive in finding a thread that connects the two works. Both pieces are technically difficult, the Beethoven especially so, and pianists have responded with heroic, monumental frameworks and fireworks. Rana does something different. Her slow movement in the Beethoven is very tender, deliberate but not ponderous, with a sense of tragedy to match the Chopin Funeral March. In general, she tends toward detail rather than thundering piano, and there are many fresh insights in her interpretation. Her outer movements in the Chopin have a skittery quality, as if the tragedy marked by the Funeral March has created a sense of dissociation. In the Beethoven, she teases out contrapuntal lines that are obscured by blazing readings, bringing her fugal finale closer to the variation finales of the Piano Sonata No. 30 in E major, Op. 109, and Piano Sonata No. 32 in C major, Op. 111, in mood. It is a fresh album from an artist who has thus far offered less imposing fare, and it is well recorded at the Parco della Musica Auditorium in Rome.© James Manheim /TiVo

The masked Iowans sixth full-length effort, We Are Not Your Kind, sees a confidant and apoplectic Slipknot in full command of their craft, delivering a searing 14-track set that's as versatile as it is observant of nu-metal's architectural truisms. Far removed from the desultory aggro-metal being dished out by veteran contemporaries like Saliva and Limp Bizkit, We Are Not Your Kind bristles with both intent and imagination. Corey Taylor and company have weathered their fair share of personal and professional woes over the years -- overdose, divorce, lineup changes, and lawsuits, not to mention an increasingly mercurial musical landscape -- but they have consistently managed to turn misfortune into grist for the sonic mill. After a short cinematic opening, the band gets down to business with fiery lead single "Unsainted," an infectious marriage of melody and might and a juggernaut of stadium-ready rage. The transient "Death Because of Death," with its carnival-like electro-industrial pulses and eerie refrain of "Death because of death because of you," sets the table for the unrelenting groove-laden rap-metal of "Nero Forte." The group goes full-on electro-rock -- think Imagine Dragons-meets-Korn -- on the sleek and sinewy "Spiders," and add twisty, melancholic progressive rock to their arsenal on the surprisingly heartfelt "My Pain" and the turbo-charged High on Fire-esque stoner metal on the uncompromising closer "Solway Firth." More than anything else, We Are Not Your Kind feels locked-in on a personal level -- that aforementioned sense of melancholy resides uncomfortably close to the surface throughout -- and that human touch resonates, even as the band unleashes volley after volley of tribal rhythms, scorching riffage, and fathomless decibels.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

How to encapsulate the incredible life and times of Dmitri Shostakovich? His story of tragedy and triumph is the stuff of Hollywood political thrillers. Rocketing to stardom at 19, the Soviet Union's leading composer later runs afoul of Stalin and fears for his life until the dictator's death — all while writing music of extraordinary intensity (and occasional insignificance), eventually becoming an enigmatic legend whose motivations continue to puzzle fans and scholars today. If you're new to Shostakovich's 15 symphonies, this new double-disc album is a pretty good starter kit. It contains the Fifth, his most famous symphony, the Ninth, his most approachable and which looks backward toward the classical period of Haydn, and the Eighth, one of his boldest and most unconventional. The set also includes an example of another Shostakovich specialty, writing for films and plays, with a suite of excerpts from a production of Shakespeare's Hamlet.The bonus is that these works are played with insight and panache by the Boston Symphony Orchestra and its music director, Andris Nelsons, who are recording all the Shostakovich symphonies live. The first installment in the series, featuring the Symphony No. 10, was released last fall and won a Grammy.When Nelsons was born in Latvia, his country was firmly under Soviet rule. One could imagine a distinct sympathy for both Shostakovich and Shostakovich Under Stalin'sShadow, the title the record company has attached to the album series. Judging from these two releases alone, Nelsons is poised to become the next big thing in an ever-crowded field of Shostakovich conductors. The playing he coaxes from his musicians is at the highest level and the deep soundstage of the recording makes it an excellent album for headphones. (Just watch out for the bass drum!) @NPR

As opposed to the original official "Soundtrack" release, a single disc with the soundtrack elements edited and arranged into concert movements, this two-disc set has every note composed for The Phantom Menace, including a cue that was cut from the film. Buffs can readily hear how Williams introduces embryonic forms of familiar themes from the earlier films. For instance, the innocent lullaby for little Anakin Skywalker ends in a nine-note pattern that is the theme of the future Darth Vader's Imperial March. And Williams subtly uses harmonies to mark the character who is secretly plotting to become Emperor. However, in this form the music is totally subordinated to the film's dramatic form, rather than musical logic.This score is not so successful as coherent music, as the earlier films' scores were, as released in their final versions on RCA Victor. The cause is the same dramatic flaw that made the movie unexpectedly unsatisfying: it was really an extended set-up for a larger-scale story, without a central mythic hero who faces a defining ordeal. The score resultingly lacks a unifying focus, as well. Still, this release is a better portrayal of the music than the original soundtrack album, which threw away the concluding fight music, The Duel of the Fates, by making it track two. It is worth the extra cost for film score and Star Wars buffs, and includes some remarkable "desert music" not included in the original disc. It is very well played by Williams and the London Symphony Orchestra with the New London Children's Chorus and the London Voices, all stunningly produced by Williams and recorded by Shawn Murphy. It comes in a lavish package, with over sixty color shots from the movie in a bound-in presentation booklet, clearly aimed at fans and collectors.© TiVo

Though it was conceived as a mere cash-in for the long-awaited return of the original Black Sabbath, 1998's Reunion is as close to an official live album as the band has had in their historic 30-year career. 1980's Live at Last was released without their permission, and 1982's Live Evil featured then-singer Ronnie James Dio. With this in mind, the band must be commended on the excellent quality of the recordings, which include their most enduring classics ("War Pigs," "Paranoid," "Iron Man"), as well as a few surprises ("Dirty Women," "Behind the Wall of Sleep"), and were culled from a series of concerts in their native Birmingham in December 1997. The real key to this album, however, is the band's ability to avoid the most common pitfall of live recordings: speeding up the songs. This patience is crucial, since such Sabbath staples as "Sweet Leaf," "Black Sabbath," and "Snowblind" owe much of their unique personality and somber atmospherics to the band's trademark "snail's pace." "Children of the Grave" proves itself once again as one of the band's most dependable live favorites, and the massive riffs of "Into the Void" are simply timeless. The two brand new studio tracks are another treat for longtime fans, and while "Selling My Soul" is rather mundane, "Psycho Man" is absolutely incredible thanks to its slow intro and raging final riff.© Eduardo Rivadavia /TiVo

Michael Giacchino's fifth score for director Matt Reeves (following Cloverfield, Let Me In, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, and War for the Planet of the Apes), 2022's The Batman was a remarkable undertaking for several reasons. Firstly, as the inaugural film in yet another reboot, Giacchino was responsible for composing new music themes for beloved franchise characters. Secondly, Reeves approached Giacchino to do the score before lead actor Robert Pattinson was even cast; as a result, music including the main Batman motif pre-dated production on the film. The Batman is also the longest score Giacchino had ever written to this point; the film has a running time of nearly three hours, and the score recording clocks in at four minutes short of two hours. It was recorded in October 2021 with a 70-piece orchestra and six-member boys choir divided between Abbey Road Studios One and Two and tracked concurrently with two different conductors. The instrumentation is another noteworthy feature, consisting of rock instruments as well as orchestral strings, brass, and percussion but almost no woodwinds (just three clarinets). If that's any indication of the score's sound, one would likely still underestimate how dark, lurking, and often (not always) eerily sparse the final work is, which had Giacchino looking to film noir classics for inspiration in addition to his Batman predecessors, Danny Elfman, Elliot Goldenthal, and Hans Zimmer. There was so much anticipation surrounding the film and score that Giacchino's main character tracks -- "The Batman," "The Riddler," and "Catwoman" -- were issued as singles and broke WaterTower Music streaming records for pre-release score material. The ominous, marching four-note (two-pitch) Batman motif is introduced on the opening track, "Can't Fight City Halloween," later appearing alongside the more elegant, melancholy Bruce Wayne theme on tracks including "Riddles, Riddles Everywhere." The Catwoman theme embodies jazzier noir, and the Riddler's rising and falling minor-key melody utilizes the children's choir. They intertwine and react to each other according to the onscreen action throughout the score, whose recording closes on the 12-minute "Sonata in Darkness," performed by pianist Gloria Cheng. The Batman marked Giacchino's debut on the Billboard 200. Note: Wordplay aficionados will want to do a close reading of the track list.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

Not everyone has the talent to create an album that can both serve as a real reference point for a whole genre, and yet still sound fresh 20 years after its release. That's a tricky feat in the world of metal, where trends in production came and went at a frenzied pace between the 90s and the first two decades of the twenty-first century. But Opeth pulled it off. When Blackwater Park came out in 2001, the Swedish combo had already laid the groundwork for what their style would become in the following years, somewhere between death metal and vintage progressive rock. But this record has an indescribable magic that crosses boundaries of genrebto help unite followers of different registers around its content. Is it still really death metal? Maybe it's better to see this album as the offspring of King Crimson mixed with Pink Floyd with the darkest of saturated guitars, and vocals that switch from clarity to guttural growls with unsettling ease. It's easy to lose one’s bearing in this sound... and fun, too.The strength of Blackwater Park lies as much in its writing as in its production. Beyond its offbeat approach to metal, it is lyrical and adventurous without ever lapsing into pomposity. This little gem has a more open, less cramped and clearer sound than many of its contemporaries. That's the result of hard work by Steven Wilson, for whom this was the first experience of producing this kind of music. This is also an album that marks the beginning of an abiding friendship between the English artist and Mikael Åkerfeldt, the frontman of Opeth. The two men even set up a joint project named Storm Corrosion a few years later.It all starts with The Leper Affinity whose dark power immediately establishes Opeth as a band in full command of the lexicon of death metal... until a first break arrives, with acoustic guitars and a calm and airy voice. It is here that it becomes clear that this is only the beginning of a hypnotic musical adventure. One of this adventures highlights is the sublime Bleak and its central sequence, which is worthy of the greatest progressive bands of the late 60s. Just a few tracks in, and already we have heard twenty minutes of rare beauty and intensity. It will be the same with the rest of the album. Each musician has mastered his instrument. Despite the apparent structural complexity of the tracks on offer, everything flows together with disconcerting ease, all the way to the closing Blackwater Park, in all its deep darkness and rare beauty. This album was a masterpiece and a milestone that brought Opeth into the pantheon of the essential metal acts, who have broken down the boundaries between genres. A cult classic. © Chief Brody/Qobuz

Fronted by the husband-and-wife team of Win Butler and Régine Chassagne, the Arcade Fire's emotional debut -- rendered even more poignant by the dedications to recently departed family members contained in its liner notes -- is brave, empowering, and dusted with something that many of the indie rock genre's more contrived acts desperately lack: an element of real danger. Funeral's mourners -- specifically Butler and Chassagne -- inhabit the same post-apocalyptic world as London Suede's Dog Man Star; they are broken, beaten, and ferociously romantic, reveling in the brutal beauty of their surroundings like a heathen Adam & Eve. "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)," the first of four metaphorical forays into the geography of the soul, follows a pair of young lovers who meet in the middle of the town through tunnels that connect to their bedrooms. Over a soaring piano lead that's effectively doubled by distorted guitar, they reach a Lord of the Flies-tinged utopia where they can't even remember their names or the faces of their weeping parents. Butler sings like a lion-tamer whose whip grows shorter with each and every lash. He can barely contain himself, and when he lets loose it's both melodic and primal, like Berlin-era Bowie. "Neighborhood #2 (Laïka)" examines suicidal desperation through an angular Gang of Four prism; the hypnotic wash of strings and subtle meter changes of "Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettles)" winsomely capture the mundane doings of day-to-day existence; and "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)," Funeral's victorious soul-thumping core, is a goose bump-inducing rallying cry centered around the notion that "the power's out in the heart of man, take it from your heart and put it in your hand." Arcade Fire are not bereft of whimsy. "Crown of Love" is like a wedding cake dropped in slow motion, utilizing a Johnny Mandel-style string section and a sweet, soda-pop-stand chorus to provide solace to a jilted lover yearning for a way back into the fold, and "Haiti" relies on a sunny island melody to explore the complexities of Chassagne's mercurial homeland. However, it's the sheer power and scope of cuts like "Wake Up" -- featuring all 15 musicians singing in unison -- and the mesmerizing, early-Roxy Music pulse of "Rebellion (Lies)" that make Funeral the remarkable achievement that it is. These are songs that pump blood back into the heart as fast and furiously as it's draining from the sleeve on which it beats, and by the time Chassagne dissects her love of riding "In the Backseat" with the radio on, despite her desperate fear of driving, Funeral's singular thread is finally revealed; love does conquer all, especially love for the cathartic power of music.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

Band of Horses is the phoenix ascending from the carcass of Carissa's Wierd, Ben Bridwell and Matt Brooke's former band. (But what happened to the proposed November 16th?) While the penchant for beautiful melody is present everywhere here, that's pretty much where the similarity between both groups stops. Whereas their former project centered itself on slower-than-codeine-cough-syrup-on-a-cold-day, lushly textured sad-pop, Band of Horses is a full-on indie rock band that writes loud, raw, mid-tempo pop songs and really loves Neil Young. Gone are the slow, layered, weepy, singly tempoed songs of heartbreak and loss. No more violins, no more space, no more, no more. Bridwell's vocals are stretched here (and they could be mistaken for Wayne Coyne's or a young Young's on first listen), but he and Brooke have a different m.o. on their new project. They play a plethora of instruments between them, from banjos to pedal steels and piano, and Chris Early pays bass along with an assortment of drummers that includes touring kit man Tim Meining (though Sera Cahoone (another ex-Clarissa's) sits in the chair on about half this set).The ramped-up electric guitars are a welcome wind blowing through this heavier, denser music. Check the dreamy Chris Bell-meets-Crazy Horse "First Song" or the snare-popping "Wicked Gil," with a killer six-string finale. "Funeral"'s dynamic hints at something less meaty but then kicks into gear. It's nearly anthemic. There are more meditative moments, though. The country-ish "Part One" is acoustic and tender. But "The Great Salt Lake," which follows it, is simply majestic. There is a Beach Boys melody in here somewhere (perhaps something extrapolated from "Sloop John B"?) and Bridwell's vocal warbles dangerously close to B. Wilson's, but is much murkier -- a more blissed-out, distorted jangle-fest. "Weed Party" is a silly, raucous country-rocker that crosses the Byrds with latter-day Hüsker Dü. The closer is the spare, meditative "St. Augustine"; it's as beautiful as Young's "Through My Sails," from Zuma. Everything All the Time isn't a perfect album. It gets a little long in the tooth in places and samey-sounding. The exuberance is the mirror image of Carissa's Wierd's downer reserve; it's as if the fellas were trying really hard -- perhaps a little too hard -- to distance themselves from their previous incarnation. Nonetheless, it's a decent first effort that warrants repeated listening.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

James Blake is a master of contrasts and restraint—understanding that too much of a good thing can knock people over. The good thing in question, of course, is his marvel of a voice, which effortlessly sails from its rich natural baritone to a songbird-in-the-cloud falsetto. It can match the high drama of an opera star and sometimes you get the feeling that, if used for evil, it could wipe out a landscape. So on his fifth album's opener "Famous Last Words," an aural cocoon of gently pulsing R&B with gospel flourishes, the strings and piano drop out periodically so as not to suck up all the oxygen. (It's like the musical equivalent of Coco Chanel's adage: "Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and take one thing off.") "Coming Back" sways with lush piano and Blake's high-frequency "So I take it all! Take it all! Take it all back," before SZA slinks in and brings a cool, crisp edge—like a knife through full-fat butter. Love song "I'm So Blessed You're Mine" balances between The Voice singing alongside low-key instrumentation and ghostly "whoo"-ing over a busy hip-hop beat, sweeping strings and deep bass. Sometimes Blake ducks out all together—letting rappers Swavay and JID take over whole chunks of the strikingly spooky "Frozen." Soulful singer Monica Martin features on moody "Show Me," with Blake's baritone wearily intoning "I heard you had a sweet way..." before ascending to deliver the kicker: "That I've yet to see." Finger-snapping "Foot Forward" covers smooth piano R&B; "Life Is Not the Same" mixes a jazz mood, a low-key trap beat and a melody that recalls Justin Timberlake's "Cry Me a River" era, Blake's voices wavering and quivering and sustaining like some hypnotizing force. But the scene-stealer here—indeed, one of the most stunning tracks Blake has ever recorded—is "Say What You Will," a collaboration with singer-songwriter Finneas (best known as Billie Eilish's brother and producer). World-weary and clever, it uses melancholy strings, choir-boy sighs and an ethereal melody to build a tastefully lush bed. "I look okay in the magic hour/ In the right light with the right amount of power," Blake sings. "I might not make all those psychopaths proud/ At least I can see the facеs of the smaller crowds." He has said: "The song is about finding peace with who you are and where you're at regardless of how well other people seem to be doing." Considering he's a favorite of Kanye West, has collaborated with the likes of Beyoncé and Jay-Z, and has made a stellar album, it's unclear who he even has to be envious of at this point. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz