Note to Clapton lovers: here comes the Super Deluxe edition of an expanded compilation of his best tracks, played at the Royal Albert Hall, in London, in 1990 and 1991. It was released in the form of a double LP of fifteen tracks at the time. London’s prestigious concert hall hosted 32 of his Slowhand concerts, 18 of which were performed in succession - breaking his own record - and with four different groups. This new box set of 47 titles, three-quarters of which were previously unreleased, is this time divided into three parts (the first edition was divided into four parts); “Rock”, “Blues”, and “Orchestral”. At the time, Clapton had been accompanied by some high-flying musicians. On the first record, we find Phil Collins on drums for covers of Bob Marley’s I Shot The Sheriff , and Bob Dylan’s Knockin' On Heaven's Door. On the second record, we find Buddy Guy, Robert Cray, and Jimmy - on guitar. Jimmy is the older brother of Stevie Ray Vaughan, who died in a helicopter crash in August 1990. More reserved, performed with the National Philharmonic Orchestra, and conducted by Michael Kamen, the third record offers 10-minute-long scintillating and highly-charged versions of Crossroads, by Robert Johnson, and Layla. Almost six hours of enjoyable listening. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

On Can't Slow Down, his second solo album, Lionel Richie ran with the sound and success of his eponymous debut, creating an album that was designed to be bigger and better. It's entirely possible that he took a cue from Michael Jackson's Thriller, which set out to win over listeners of every corner of the mainstream pop audience, because Richie does a similar thing with Can't Slow Down -- he plays to the MOR adult contemporary audience, to be sure, but he ups the ante on his dance numbers, creating grooves that are funkier, and he even adds a bit of rock with the sleek nocturnal menace of "Running With the Night," one of the best songs here. He doesn't swing for the fences like Michael did in 1982; he makes safe bets, which is more in his character. But safe bets do pay off, and with Can't Slow Down Richie reaped enormous dividends, earning not just his biggest hit, but his best album. He has less compunction about appearing as a pop singer this time around, which gives the preponderance of smooth ballads -- particularly "Penny Lover," "Hello," and the country-ish "Stuck on You" -- conviction, and the dance songs roll smooth and easy, never pushing the beats too hard and relying more on Richie's melodic hooks than the grooves, which is what helped make "All Night Long (All Night)" a massive hit. Indeed, five of these songs (all the aforementioned tunes) were huge hits, and since the record ran only eight songs, that's an astonishing ration. The short running time does suggest the record's main weakness, one that it shares with many early-'80s LPs -- the songs themselves run on a bit too long, padding out the running length of the entire album. This is only a problem on album tracks like "Love Will Find a Way," which are pleasant but a little tedious at their length, but since there are only three songs that aren't hits, it's a minor problem. All the hits showcase Lionel Richie at his best, as does Can't Slow Down as a whole.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Genre-ingesting prog rock virtuosos Polyphia recorded their fourth album, Remember That You Will Die, with contributions from producers like Rodney Jerkins (Destiny's Child, Black Eyed Peas), Johan Lenox (Big Sean, Machine Gun Kelly), and Y2K (Doja Cat, Remi Wolf), although bandmembers Tim Henson and Scott LePage helmed its production. It marked the group's debuts on both the Rise Records label and the Billboard 200 chart, the latter thanks at least in part to the star power of such guests as Grammy winners Steve Vai and Brasstracks, Deftones' Chino Moreno, and charting rapper $not, among others from just as wide-ranging corners of the music world. Highlights include the playful "ABC," featuring R&B-pop singer Sophia Black, and "Chimera," a relatively brooding entry featuring raps by Lil West. The album closes on the Vai showcase "Ego Death," a multi-act instrumental sure to delight fans of Polyphia's scorching funk-rock.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

The War on Drugs' debut for Atlantic Records, A Deeper Understanding, is very much a follow-up to the group's critically acclaimed Top 30 breakthrough Lost in the Dream from three years prior. That album's notoriously meticulous blend of heartland rock influences, Bob Dylan, and a swirling dream rock constructed of Wurlitzers, tape effects, analog synths, and 12-string guitar, just to name a few components, is, if anything, even more expansive here. The Drugs recorded it as a six-piece with frontman/songwriter Adam Granduciel, bassist Dave Hartley, who's been in the picture since the band’s debut, keyboardist Robbie Bennett, drummer Charlie Hall, and multi-instrumentalists Jon Natchez and Anthony LaMarca, all but the latter of whom contributed to Lost in the Dream. There's no compromising to be found on their major-label debut, the first of a two-record deal that promises complete creative control to Granduciel. (To underscore that point, the first track released from A Deeper Understanding was the over-11-minute "Thinking of a Place.") The set's ten tracks drift unhurriedly over a course of more than an hour. Included along the way are a few additional timbres, such as the skittering electronic effects and stucco guitar textures of opener "Up All Night," the unexpected glint of glockenspiel on the bass-propelled tune "Holding On," and the saxophone on "Clean Living" with its sound distorted like a reflection. At first, these details hint at a possible redesign -- then just as quickly they don’t, as ears adjust to the broader palette. They weave their way into the hazy reverb, restrained pitch range, and shimmering, engulfing atmosphere that manages to never overpower Granduciel's gentle ruminations on relationships, overcoming, and just coping. Though there's nothing here to grab headlines, A Deeper Understanding reclaims and explores the distinctive soundscapes, vastness, and haunted psyche of Lost in the Dream, and that in itself is significant.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

Anybody who was initially confused by singer/songwriter John Mayer's foray into blues with 2005's Try! John Mayer Trio Live in Concert could only have been further confounded upon listening to the album and coming to the realization that it was actually good. And not just kinda good, especially for guy who had been largely labeled as a Dave Matthews clone, but really, truthfully, organically good as a blues album in its own right. However, for longtime fans who had been keeping tabs on Mayer, the turn might not have been so unexpected. Soon after the release of his 2003 sophomore album, the laid-back, assuredly melodic Heavier Things, Mayer began appearing on albums by such iconic blues and jazz artists as Buddy Guy, B.B. King, and Herbie Hancock. And not just singing, but playing guitar next to musicians legendary on the instrument. In short, he was seeking out these artists in an attempt to delve into the roots of the blues, a music he obviously has a deep affection for. Rather than his blues trio being a one-off side project completely disconnected to his past work, it is clear now that it was the next step in his musical development. And truthfully, while Try! certainly showcases Mayer's deft improvisational blues chops, it's more of a blues/soul album in the tradition of such electric blues legends as Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan, and features songs by Mayer that perfectly marry his melodic songcraft and his blues-slinger inclinations. In fact, what seemed at the time a nod to his largely female fan base (the inclusion of "Daughters" and "Something's Missing" off Heavier Things) was actually a hint that he was bridging his sound for his listeners, showing them where he was going.That said, nothing he did up until the excellent, expansive Try! could have prepared you for the monumental creative leap forward that is Mayer's 2006 studio effort, Continuum. Working with his blues trio/rhythm section of bassist Pino Palladino and drummer Steve Jordan, along with guest spots by trumpeter Roy Hargrove and guitarist Ben Harper, Mayer brings all of his recent musical explorations and increasing talents as a singer/songwriter to bear on Continuum. Produced solely by Mayer and Jordan, the album is a devastatingly accomplished, fully realized effort that in every way exceeds expectations and positions Mayer as one of the most relevant artists of his generation. Adding weight to the notion that Mayer's blues trio is more than just a creative indulgence, he has carried over two tracks from the live album in "Vultures" and the deeply metaphorical soul ballad "Gravity." These are gut-wrenchingly poignant songs that give voice to a generation of kids raised on TRL teen stars and CNN soundbites who've found themselves all grown up and fighting a war of "beliefs." Grappling with a handful of topics -- social and political, romantic and sexual, pointedly personal and yet always universal in scope -- Mayer's Continuum here earns a legitimate comparison to Marvin Gaye's What's Going On. Nobody -- not a single one of Mayer's contemporaries -- has come up with anything resembling a worthwhile antiwar anthem that is as good and speaks for their generation as much as his "Waiting on the World to Change" -- and he goes and hangs the whole album on it as the first single. It's a bold statement of purpose that is carried throughout the album, not just in sentiment, but also tone. Continuum is a gorgeously produced, brilliantly stripped-to-basics album that incorporates blues, soft funk, R&B, folk, and pop in a sound that is totally owned by Mayer. It's no stretch when trying to describe the sound of Continuum to color it in the light of work by such legends as Sting, Eric Clapton, Sade, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Steve Winwood. In fact, the sustained adult contemporary tone of the album could easily have become turgid, boring, or dated but never does, and brings to mind such classic late-'80s albums as Sting's Nothing Like the Sun, Clapton's Journeyman, and Vaughan's In Step. At every turn, Continuum finds Mayer to be a mature, thoughtful, and gifted musician who fully grasps his place not just in the record industry, but in life.© Matt Collar /TiVo

This new project by the exceptional British acappella octet Voces8, founded in 2005, follows on from After Silence, released in July 2020 on their own label (Voces8 Records). Over more than two beautifully conceived hours, this record combined some great classic vocal repertoire with a few more contemporary numbers - a whirlwind of emotions, both in terms of the quality of the performances and the diversity and combination of the selected repertoires.In this space-inspired album, Infinity, the vocal quality itself remains dazzling: precision of intonation, meticulous respect for harmonic intervals, pleasant frictions, supremely elegant singing and grandiose choral space. In short, this is cosmically magnificent choral singing. In this respect, the sumptuous In the Shining Blackness by the very young London composer Benjamin Rimmer, born in 1993, is a lovely discovery. The whole programme has a uniquely soaring, uniformly post-ambient minimalist character, from Sophie Hutchings' By Night to Nainita Desai's My Mind Is Still to Johann Jóhannsson's more accessible A Pile of Dust, Ola Gjeilo's Still or Stephen Barton's The Universe Within You - the addition of various instruments, from ethereal strings to bowed vibraphones, harps or a sample of the Sputnik satellite signal, all enhance our listening pleasure. ©Pierre-Yves Lascar/Qobuz

Best known as the leader of Dinosaur Jr., a trio addicted to monstrous levels of volume, J Mascis has another side to his musical character. Inside this apostle of ear-shredding noise lurks a sensitive indie rock balladeer, whose creaky, minor key voice—often compared to Neil Young—is the perfect accent to his opaque songs of loss and doubt.  Strip out the guitars of many Dino Jr. songs and it's clear that Mascis has always written multi-layered songs. Like What Do We Do Now's "It's True," where he's in a state—"I'm just lying here, lost in fear, it's rising/ It's not the worst, but how bad could it get?"—and reluctantly implores, "Let me find the way to go/ Let the cracks begin to show." The opener "Can't Believe We're Here" is nearly a pop single, or what his Byron Coley-penned bio calls a "full blown post core power ballad." Further along, "Right Behind You" is one of the most tuneful originals of his career. The worry ballad, "I Can't Find You," where Mascis broods, "Feeling so obscure/ Drifting through my head/ It's made me insecure/ I'm begging you instead," is the kind of sensitive indie rock wondering that his Dinosaur Jr. persona would have hidden under sonic intensity. Mascis's arranging has reached a new level of mastery; the mix of acoustic guitars, nearly-too-busy drumming, extended guitar solo and pleading voice on "Right Behind You" is nearly perfect. He ramps up his singing to a stronger and more confident height in the anthemic, pop-leaning title track. Mascis recorded this fifth solo album at his Western Massachusetts home studio; the detailed sound excels at sharply defined borders between instruments. He handles almost all the instruments except for piano, played by frequent collaborator Ken Mauri, and the pedal steel guitar, played by Matthew "Doc" Dunn. Willing to tone down the clamor as a solo act, J Mascis shows what was behind the volume all along. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

For two decades now, the Texas-reared and California-based sultry-voiced singer-songwriter Jolie Holland has perfected a folk/country hybrid with a distinctive singing style deeply rooted in blues and jazz. On her sixth studio album, she fearlessly encompasses even more genres and styles, but with a forceful ease and downright dreamy tempos. Guitars slither awake and bark distorted tones over percolating ambient tones. Fiddles and cellos drone from classical realms into Appalachian territory and back. It’s all collaged together with the clarity of a great soundtrack.Holland's always strong songwriting is helped in parts by Big Thief's Buck Meek, who adds his own verse to the title track. (And yes, that’s the same Meek who included a version of the song on his own 2023 album, which he named … Haunted Mountain.)  His contributions to "Highway 72" are such that you have to listen over and over again. The term "instant classic" has been used to death, but the song (which references one of Hank Williams' best) just seems to have been there forever. If only Deadwood was still filming, so that it could close out an episode.This release is no sell-out, by any means. It's Holland's most ambitious, clear-sounding, and overtly political recording to date. Its themes tackle what Naomi Klein has termed disaster capitalism, the onus of patriarchy, the legacy of colonialism, and the onset of fascism across the world. It's so strong and so real that one cannot imagine a world where such music might be released and not resonate with the larger world. Haunted Mountain matches its thematic cohesion with a slower tempo that's at times—as with the whistle-and-strum closer "What It's Worth"—downright somnambulant. This is very powerful stuff; don't drive at night or operate heavy machinery while under its influence. © Mike McGonigal/Qobuz

This eighth album from The National is refreshingly different, somewhat modifying the well-oiled mechanics of this American band. First and foremost, this is achieved through the presence of several female singers who support the leader Matt Berninger on most of the tracks. The most memorable are the performances of Gail Ann Dorsey (David Bowie’s bassist) on Had Your Soul With You, as well as the particularly poignant performances of Lisa Hannigan and Mina Tindle on So Far So East and Oblivions respectively, the latter being especially moving. Why this sudden feminine presence for an exclusively male band? It’s likely because the album was conceived after filmmaker Mike Mills asked The National to put his short film I Am Easy to Find into song form - a film which happens to be centred around a woman. It’s this relationship to images that has somewhat upended the Brooklyn band’s pop formula. There are a few references to some classics of cinema, chiefly Roman Holiday by William Wyler (1953). But apart from the new cinematic release, fans of The National will still find the legendary melancholy of the group in both the lyrics and the music. The presence of heart-wrenching strings on all the tracks (with the exception of the staccato violins on Where Is Her Head) as well as a recurring introspective piano (notably in the beautiful Light Years) will particularly be remembered. Bryan Devendorf’s singular rhythms plays on contrasts, occasionally making striking jerks (Rylan, The Pull of You) as well as adding a sensual flair (Hairpin Turns, I Am Easy to Find). © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz  

Let’s face it: Amon Amarth is divisive. Like Sabaton or Five Finger Death Punch, they’re one of those bands that enjoy undeniable popularity and success despite being met with derision by purists. Yet, on closer inspection, Amon Amarth’s death metal has never been a lesser form of the genre. At worst, you could say it has the finesse of a bull in a china shop, but it certainly doesn’t betray its cause. More than anything, it’s the band’s set design that might make its audience smirk: in the world of augmented reality, five proud Vikings in a papier-mâché longboat don’t impress crowds much. However, when it comes to their recorded material, the Stockholm band has absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, even less so with The Great Heathen Army. Produced by Andy Sneap (Accept, Exodus, Judas Priest…), this new collection of hymns praising the glory of Odin proves to be masterfully conceived, cleverly avoiding the sense of redundancy that could sometimes mar the experience of listening to an entire album by the band. The subject matter is much more varied here too: there’s the rocky rhythm of ‘Heidrun’, the devastating ‘Oden Owns You All’, and ‘Find a Way or Make One’, which sounds like it could go on to become a pillar of the band’s repertoire. Whether you’re a fan of the band or you’ve only recently discovered them, this album is for you. The highlight is, of course, ‘Saxons and Vikings’, which sees Amon Amarth cross swords with Saxon’s ‘godfathers’ Biff Byford, Doug Scarratt and Paul Quinn on a brilliant up-tempo track. The presence of these heavy metal legends is not the only treat in store either. Purists might claim ‘they were better before’, that their 1994 demo sounds more authentic than their first studio album, which sounds less commercial than their second etc, etc… the usual. The fact remains that Amon Amarth’s twelfth album does everything right, and it is anything but mundane. Those waiting for them to slip up might be waiting a long time; you’ll never crush a Viking’s spirit.  © Charlélie Arnaud/Qobuz

More than a quarter-century after Tom Petty's Wildflowers was first released, it can finally be heard the way the singer-songwriter intended. When he turned in 25 songs, hoping for a double album, Warner Bros. asked him to pare it down to one. But just three years past his death, his family and Heartbreakers bandmates Benmont Tench and Mike Campbell (technically a solo release, Wildflowers features most of the band) have restored the record to its original glory and added in a trove of home demos, alternate takes and live tracks—some 70 songs in all. Produced by Rick Rubin while Petty's decades-old marriage was crumbling and he was reportedly battling heroin addiction, the 1994 release remains one of the all-time great break-up records; heard all together, the extended LP (the All The Rest part is produced Petty's longtime engineer Ryan Ulyate) Petty is a deeper devastating beauty. "New" tracks like the Byrds-y "Leave Virginia Alone," tender "Something Could Happen" and psychedelic Beatles-meets-Wall of Sound "Somewhere Under Heaven" are a comfortable coda to classics such as "You Don't Know How It Feels" and "It's Good to Be King." Extra track "Hope You Never" is a gorgeous, direct complement to old favorite "Only a Broken Heart." As perfect as the original album has always played, it's hard to imagine not including the swaying After the Gold Rush-esque "Hung Up & Overdue" (with backing vocals by Beach Boy Carl Wilson) or sunny, jangling "California" (which also shows up in a demo version, with a telling extra verse: "Don’t forgive my past/ I forgive my enemy/ Don’t know if it lasts/ Gotta just wait and see"). Dig into the home recordings, and it's an even bigger mystery why the harmonica-inflected "There Goes Angela" and plaintive "There's a Break in the Rain (Have Love Will Travel)" weren't contenders over, say, the Celtic-flavored "Don't Fade on Me." Chalk part of that first-listen awe up to the intimacy of these solo demos, which also cast a new, revelatory light on the gently folksy title track and "You Don't Know How It Feels." Live non-album favorites "Girl on LSD" and "Drivin' Down to Georgia" are captured here, along with a blistering "Honey Bee" and lovely takes on "You Wreck Me" and "Crawling Back to You." Tench has recalled Petty calling Wildflowers "the best record we ever made." Now it's even better. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

With 25 years of experience and 12 albums under their belt since the release of the eponymous Korn in 1994, what can we expect from the famous band from Bakersfield in 2019? Rightly considered as pioneers of neo-Metal, Korn has experienced many ups and downs. Following a decade at the top of the charts, when their iconic guitarist Brian “Head” Welch left the group it became more experimental, dabbling in pop and dubstep (like The Path of Totality) which left many fans feeling a little bewildered. But Head’s return in 2013 undoubtedly gave the band a new lease of life as they returned to their more conventional style of music. And if the two albums that followed were a sign that they had returned to their high standards, The Nothing goes one step further. From the very first note of the bagpipes in The End Begins, it’s clear that Korn is well and truly back in the game. The album is dedicated to tradition as all the group’s characteristics can be heard throughout the album, (the scat in Cold that is reminiscent of Twist, the sound of the guitar in The Darkness is Revealing, the chorus of “disco” drums in Idiosyncrasy and so on). But The Nothing itself is not immune from trying new things and includes the track Finally Free which has hints of trip-hop as well as the particularly manic H@rd3r, which is a something a bit different altogether. And even if the band hasn’t reinvented itself in this particular album, their knack for riffs and catchy choruses, the manic performances by Jonathan Davis (and the very talented Ray Luzier on drums), combined with a solid production team and just the right amount of experimentation makes The Nothing the go-to album for this ‘third-generation’ Korn. There’s no doubt about it, Korn is still on top form! © Théo Roumier/Qobuz

Max Roach on drums, Oscar Pettiford on the double bass and no pianist, like the year before in Way Out West: Sonny Rollins once again blows the wind of rebellion in this masterpiece recorded on February 11th and March 7th, 1958. From the start, the most popular tenor of that time lays down a theme of over 19 minutes: his album’s title, Freedom Suite! What a freedom suite indeed! Changing rhythms, unexpected escapades, freedom of tone and recurring themes never prevent the three men from conversing intensely. The listener must surrender himself to these high-flying exchanges, rather unprecedented at that time, let themselves be carried by this lava flow that is indeed extreme (never free), but never switches off from its melodic framework, or more precisely from its narration. Freedom Suite’s other great strength is to be the album of a true trio, rather than Rollins’ whim. Both Roach and Pettiford unfold stunning rhythm designs, beefing up the album’s inventiveness. With a record of this magnitude, Sonny Rollins shakes up the limits of jazz and cries out against segregation in late-50s America. He explains it in the sleeve’s notes: “America is deeply rooted in black culture. Its colloquialisms. Its humour. Its music. How ironic that Black people, who more than any other, claim America’s culture as their own, are in fact persecuted and repressed. That black people, who have exemplified humanity in their very existence, are being rewarded with inhumanity." © MZ/Qobuz

While Hans Zimmer's music for Christopher Nolan's Batman movies aren't as high-concept as some of his other scores, such as Inception or Gladiator, they're just as artfully done, and The Dark Knight Rises is no exception. Zimmer ties the music for the final installment of Nolan's Batman trilogy to his previous scores, but allows these pieces to have their own flourishes as well: "A Storm Is Coming" nods to the churning strings of the theme used since Batman Begins, but "Nothing Out There" adds an almost subliminal pulsing synth that grows stronger as the score unfolds, peaking with "Imagine the Fire"'s climax of choral vocals and strings. Meanwhile, heavy brass cuts through most tracks like a bat signal piercing through the clouds, nowhere more clearly than on "Gotham's Reckoning." Yet Zimmer doesn't just pile on the drama; he knows when to have his cues crash into a scene and when they should get out of the way. The drums, brass, and strings reach near-claustrophobic levels on "The Fire Rises," but they also retreat, roil, and then thunder to a close in malevolent and majestic fashion. Zimmer also finds room for some more experimental touches, as on "Despair," where the whooshing percussion sounds like a cape sweeping through the air or something bursting into flames. And while most of these cues tower like Gotham skyscrapers, "Mind If I Cut In?" is just as remarkable for its delicate melody and subtle percussion. Fittingly for the last installment of Nolan's -- and thus Zimmer's -- interpretation of Batman, many of the track titles wax philosophical ("Why Do We Fall?"), and the score's emotional range is narrow but deep, spanning the mournful "Born in Darkness" and the somber "Necessary Evil," and culminating with "Rise," which mingles haunting strings and vocals with formidable rhythms as the credits roll. While The Dark Knight Rises closes the book on Batman for Zimmer and Nolan, it's just another chapter in their thriving creative partnership.© Heather Phares /TiVo

Tom Waits has said: "I like a beautiful song that tells you terrible things. We all like bad news out of a pretty mouth." When it comes to the material on Blood Money, I don't know if I can call Waits' mouth pretty, but he certainly offers plenty of bad news in a very attractive, compelling way. Released simultaneously with Alice, a recording of songs written in 1990, Blood Money is a set of 13 songs written by Waits and Kathleen Brennan in collaboration with dramatist Robert Wilson. The project was a loose adaptation of the play Woyzeck, originally written by German poet Georg Buchner in 1837. The play was inspired by the true story of a German soldier who was driven mad by bizarre army medical experiments and infidelity, which led him to murder his lover -- cheery stuff, to be sure. Thematically, this work -- with its references to German cabarets and nostalgia -- echoes Waits' other Wilson collaborative project, Black Rider. Musically, however, Blood Money is a far more elegant, stylish, and nuanced work than the earlier recording. With bluesman Charlie Musselwhite, reedman Colin Stetson, bassist and guitarist Larry Taylor, marimbist Andrew Borger, and others -- Waits plays piano, organ, marimba, calliope, and guitar -- this is a theater piece that feels like a collection of songs that reflect a perverse sense of black humor and authentic wickedness in places. The protagonists of these songs are so warped and wasted by life that they are caricatures; it's impossible not to like them and to not be repulsed by yourself for doing so. For starters, the set opens with "Misery Is the River of the World," a circus-like tango wrapped around a series of dialectical aphorisms: "If there's one thing you can say about mankind/There's nothing kind about man." When a piano cascades up a minor scale in dramatic showmanship, Waits chants the refrain, "Misery is the river of the world," with seeming delight. On "God's Away on Business" (with guests Stewart Copeland on drums and PJ Harvey guitarist Joe Gore) the rhythm first displayed on Bone Machine resurfaces and fills out the backbeat. It's almost a march in its depth and dimension, giving the entire track the feeling of an evil seven dwarfs about to roast Snow White for dinner: "I'd sell your heart to the junkman, baby/For a buck, for a buck/If you're looking for someone to pull you out of that ditch/You're out of luck, out of luck." This is bleak, disturbing, and hysterically funny. It's not all snakes and alligators, however. In "Coney Island Baby," Waits delivers one of his most memorable and moving love songs while playing the chamberlain in front of the band, who plays an old-time waltz laced through with gorgeous cello and trumpet slipping ethereally through the mix. Waits croons without affectation or droopy sentiment: "Every night she comes/To take me out to dreamland/When I'm with her/I'm the richest man in the town/She's a rose/She's a pearl/She's the spin on my world/All the stars make wishes on her eyes." Likewise, the track that follows it, "All the World Is Green," is a paean of love from the soldier to his wife and "Another Man's Vine" boasts the most overtly sensuous use of the word "bougainvillea" in a pop song. In all, Blood Money, like its sister, Alice, is a record steeped in musical and lyrical traditions barely remembered by popular culture and hence very rarely evoked (from carnival marches to tarantellas, primitive tangos, and early 20th century jazz). This isn't the other side of Tin Pan Alley, but an appreciation for and evocation of the music of the Weimar Republic with its easy pathos and often grotesque funhouse humor. That said, this appreciation does not make for a re-creation; Waits' music is his own from this particular place in time, but it illustrates and illuminates particular kinds of human foibles from the present era and celebrates them as human nonetheless.© Thom Jurek /TiVo