“This is my life in Songs. Some of them reconstructed, some of them refitted, some of them reframed, and all of them with a contemporary focus.” That is the description of Sting’s latest record, making this more than just a collection of his biggest hits (either solo or with The Police). It was a particular kind of rhythm that he wanted to work in, so as to eliminate the ‘dated’ feel to some of his songs (according to Sting himself). More striking than the original, the drums of Demolition Man, If You Love Someone Set Them Free, Desert Rose and even Englishman in New York will take listeners by surprise. Regarding this famous tribute to gay icon Quentin Crisp, the song released in 1988 is seasoned by pizzicatos and a soprano sax solo.As for the other ballads, it’s more in the singer’s texture and vocal prowess that the reinvention is most noticeable. Less pure but more structured than before, Sting’s voice carries a new dimension in Fields of Gold and Fragile, two songs that also prove that the Englishman’s talent as a melodist has not aged a bit. The same goes for tracks taken from his Police years too, in particular Message in a Bottle and Walking on the Moon, as well as the ubiquitous Roxanne (presented here as a live version). © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

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The art rock legends' first album with Rick Wakeman, as well as their mainstream pop breakthrough.© TiVo

If Dream of the Blue Turtles was an unabashedly pretentious affair, it looks positively lighthearted in comparison to Sting's sophomore effort, Nothing Like the Sun, one of the most doggedly serious pop albums ever recorded. This is an album where the only up-tempo track, the only trifle -- the cheerfully stiff white-funk "We'll Be Together" -- was added at the insistence of the label because they believed there wasn't a cut on the record that could be pulled as a single, one that would break down the doors to mainstream radio. And they were right, since everything else here is too measured, calm, and deliberately subtle to be immediate (including the intentional throwaway, "Rock Steady"). So, why is it a better album than its predecessor? Because Sting doesn't seem to be trying so hard. It flows naturally, largely because this isn't trying to explicitly be a jazz-rock record (thank the presence of a new rhythm section of Sting and drummer Manu Katche for that) and because the melodies are insinuating, slowly working their way into memory, while the entire record plays like a mood piece -- playing equally well as background music or as intensive, serious listening. Sting's words can still grate -- the stifling pompousness of "History Will Teach Us Nothing" the clearest example, yet calls of "Hey Mr. Pinochet" also strike an uneasy chord -- but his lyricism shines on "The Lazarus Heart," "Be Still My Beating Heart," "They Dance Alone," and "Fragile," a quartet of his very finest songs. If Nothing Like the Sun runs a little too long, with only his Gil Evans-assisted cover of "Little Wing" standing out in the final quarter, it still maintains its tone until the end and, since it's buoyed by those previously mentioned stunners, it's one of his better albums.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

When you have a musical career as long and as successful as Sting's, it becomes easy for the listener to hear each new album in the context of previous projects. In truth, The Bridge is a great testament to the English singer/songwriter's gift for bringing his diverse influences to bear in a rich and very personal record that rewards repeat listening. This new album is a reflection on a world in transition and the need for a metaphorical bridge to a better state of humanity, so the work is rife with images of water, peril, and crossings to safety and fulfillment. The Bridge was created in Sting's home studio during the pandemic, with guest artists making significant contributions remotely, such as long-time collaborator Dominic Miller's beautiful, chiming guitar work on the haunting "The Bells of St. Thomas," and drummer extraordinaire Manu Katché's jazz-funk backbeat on "Captain Bateman's Basement." There are elements that might have you thinking of past highlights in Sting's oeuvre, such as Branford Marsalis' unmistakable sax on "Harmony," or the beautiful acoustic guitar on "For Her Love" that the English musician utilizes so well in his heartfelt ballads. In songs like "Rushing Water," his songcraft and arranging genius reflects the less-is-more approach that was prevalent in so many of his hits with The Police, while "If It's Love" has the warmth and breeziness of songs from his album Sacred Love. More examples of Sting's creative diversity on The Bridge include "The Hills on the Border," a folk-inspired tune that would not be out of place in his musical The Last Ship, and the Celtic violins on "Captain Bateman." We all need to seek the higher ground at one time or another, and in The Bridge, one of this generation's best singer/songwriters has engineered a structure as solid, as thoughtful, and ultimately as compelling as any he has created before. © Rick Banales/Qobuz

As the double-disc The Fragile unfurls, all of Nine Inch Nails' trademarks -- gargantuan, processed guitars, ominous electro rhythms, near-ambient keyboards, Trent Reznor's shredded vocals and tortured words -- are unveiled, all sounding pretty much how they did on The Downward Spiral. Upon closer inspection, there are new frills, yet these aren't apparent without digging -- and what's on the surface isn't necessarily inviting, either. There is nothing as rhythmic or catchy as "Closer," nothing as jarring as the piano chorus of "March of the Pigs," no ballad as naked as "Hurt." When Reznor does try for something immediate and visceral, he sounds recycled. Fortunately, The Fragile lives up to its title once the first disc is over. There are some detours into noisy bluster (some, like the Marilyn Manson dis "Starfuckers, Inc.," work quite well) but they're surrounded by long, evocative instrumental sections that highlight Reznor's gifts for arrangement. Whenever Reznor crafts delicate, alternately haunting and pretty soundscapes or interesting sonic juxtapositions, The Fragile is compelling. Since they provide a change of pace, the bursts of industrial noise assist the flow of the album, which never feels indulgent, even though it runs over 100 minutes. Still, The Fragile is ultimately a letdown. There's no denying that it's often gripping, offering odd and interesting variations on NIN themes, but that's the problem -- they're just variations, not progressions. Considering that it arrives five years after Spiral, that is a disappointment. It's easy to tell where the time went -- Reznor's music is immaculately crafted and arranged, with every note and nuance gliding into the next -- but he spent more time constructing surfaces than songs. Those surfaces can be enticing but since it's just surface, The Fragile winds up being vaguely unsatisfying.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

After gaining some recognition from the success of the band's previous album, Bachman-Turner Overdrive got around to recording Not Fragile. Not only had one of the three Bachman brothers (Tim, the rhythm guitarist) left the band to BTO's advantage, but Randy Bachman and C.F. Turner had clearly grown musically. To the album's benefit, most of the material on Not Fragile are the band's much-liked rock anthems, ranging from the hyper-distorted title track, through the famous but far more timid song "You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet." Indeed, for hard rock fanatics, it doesn't come much better than on Not Fragile. Randy's electrifying lead guitar is here more raucous than ever before, as are his rowdy vocals (particularly noticeable on the predictable, but fun "Sledgehammer"). The man steals the show on Not Fragile through his extensive and often astounding guitar solos. Generally, though, Bachman-Turner Overdrive are at their prime as a whole, both in songwriting and playing terms. As regards the mixing, it's hard to find fault with this release. The drums are clear but not so prominent that they dominate the recording, while the guitars, along with the bass, are kept rigidly in their place. Not Fragile is one of the finest arena rock albums of the era, featuring all the hallmarks of what makes a classic release in the genre. Randy's impressive guitar work and typically boisterous vocals complement the overall framework of the album superbly, as do the crunchy rhythm guitars. This release will astound fans of the genre and band, while those thoroughly against stadium rock may find something to convert their views.© Ben Davies /TiVo

Far from the engaged or nihilistic cries of the Sex Pistols, the Clash and the Jam, the one shouted by the London art school students who founded Wire in 1976 rather sounds like a sour laugh, minimalist and caustic. A laugh that doesn’t sound at all like any other with its succession of unexpected chords, its tracks aborted half-way and its endlessly changing rhythms. A rock ‘n’ roll deflagration, ironic and quirky just like its track list: 21 titles in less than 36 minutes! Planted in November 1977, this Pink Flag (and not black like everyone liked them at the time…) blends sharp melodies, dissonant guitars and all wound up rhythms. The position is first and foremost artsy, the name probably less legendary than those of their colleagues at the time, but, in hindsight, the influence from Wire and this first album on the indie rock of the upcoming years is simply huge… © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

If Dream of the Blue Turtles was an unabashedly pretentious affair, it looks positively lighthearted in comparison to Sting's sophomore effort, Nothing Like the Sun, one of the most doggedly serious pop albums ever recorded. This is an album where the only up-tempo track, the only trifle -- the cheerfully stiff white-funk "We'll Be Together" -- was added at the insistence of the label because they believed there wasn't a cut on the record that could be pulled as a single, one that would break down the doors to mainstream radio. And they were right, since everything else here is too measured, calm, and deliberately subtle to be immediate (including the intentional throwaway, "Rock Steady"). So, why is it a better album than its predecessor? Because Sting doesn't seem to be trying so hard. It flows naturally, largely because this isn't trying to explicitly be a jazz-rock record (thank the presence of a new rhythm section of Sting and drummer Manu Katche for that) and because the melodies are insinuating, slowly working their way into memory, while the entire record plays like a mood piece -- playing equally well as background music or as intensive, serious listening. Sting's words can still grate -- the stifling pompousness of "History Will Teach Us Nothing" the clearest example, yet calls of "Hey Mr. Pinochet" also strike an uneasy chord -- but his lyricism shines on "The Lazarus Heart," "Be Still My Beating Heart," "They Dance Alone," and "Fragile," a quartet of his very finest songs. If Nothing Like the Sun runs a little too long, with only his Gil Evans-assisted cover of "Little Wing" standing out in the final quarter, it still maintains its tone until the end and, since it's buoyed by those previously mentioned stunners, it's one of his better albums.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Returning from a five-year silence with The Fragile and its accompanying Fragility tour, Trent Reznor was at a dangerous low. Revealing past addictions, Reznor admitted that he was "sick" during most of the tour and that it wasn't "Nine Inch Nails at its best." Yet the entire dirty affair was documented on And All That Could Have Been, essentially a live "best-of" collection. Included on limited-edition releases was the intensely personal EP Still. It was the last time Reznor "sounded" like the Trent of old: feral and broken (everything from With Teeth onward has come from a healthier, less damaged man). Despite the mix of old and new, it remains a cohesive experience, a hidden gem in the NIN catalog.Four previously released songs are reworked into organic and unpolished "acoustic" deconstructions: "The Fragile" and "The Day the World Went Away" reveal a bare-bones intimacy not found on their studio versions; a deep cut from The Downward Spiral ("The Becoming") amps up the intensity and paranoia once stripped of the layered atmospherics, and Pretty Hate Machine's "Something I Can Never Have" becomes all the more heartbreaking. By removing the meticulous production that he is famous for, Reznor ended up with a sound more raw, bloody, and visceral.The new songs dialed back the aggression. Continuations of ideas for Mark Romanek's Robin Williams thriller, One Hour Photo, they sound completely at home in the context of The Fragile. Instrumental soundscapes like "Adrift & at Peace" (the contemplative finale to "La Mer"/"The Great Below") and "Gone, Still" are almost whimsical, while "The Persistence of Loss," which includes some of the dramatic horns from The Fragile, is uncomfortably ominous. Album highlight "And All That Could Have Been" is the only new song on the EP to include vocals. This lament finds Reznor begging the anonymous listener to save themselves from him while they can. It's a desperate plea, one that he'd usually be screaming into a microphone. Yet here, it's even more effective, as if he's already given up all hope. The crestfallen "Leaving Hope" ends the album on a gorgeous note, washing away the melancholy in a warm current, an electric buzz surging beneath the surface. Much like their hit song "Hurt," it is neither hopeful, nor completely hopeless: there's an uncertain confusion to it all. As the EP drones to a close, Reznor's faint wailing can be heard buried beneath the layers. He's screaming, but whether in desperation or defiance, only he knows.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo