Recording under the stage name Vance Joy, Australian singer/songwriter James Keogh was vaulted to international attention in 2013 when the second single from his debut EP became a surprise multi-platinum hit in his home country. The easygoing, ukulele-led "Riptide" continued gaining traction, cracking the Top Ten in several European countries and even making waves in the U.S. The major labels quickly came calling, with Atlantic offering Keogh a purported five-album deal. Not a bad start for the former pro footballer who abandoned the sport to follow his artistic muse. With the global might of Atlantic at his back, the man now known as Vance Joy delivers his debut album, Dream Your Life Away. Built around the centerpiece of "Riptide," the album offers up a dozen or so additional songs in that familiar mold of romantic, introspective, acoustic folk-pop. Musically, Joy falls somewhere between the laid-back surfer charm of Jack Johnson and the bearded earnestness of the Mumfords' nu folk scene. Much of Dream Your Life Away focuses on gently picked lovelorn pleas and somewhat uninspired romantic phrasing with tracks like "Georgia" and "First Time" being some of the more ponderous offenders. Joy's melodies throughout are fine though not particularly memorable and, regrettably, that could describe the record in general. As shown by the initial success of "Riptide," many fans will be willing to embrace another tender-voiced folk-pop crooner, but the material here seems a bit too middle of the road to really distinguish him from the crowded pack of similar young bards. With its sweet harmonies and strong build, the album's most engaging track, "Winds of Change," is smartly placed at the top, setting an enjoyable tone of promise that doesn't quite deliver over the remaining 45 minutes.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

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By the time 2010 rolled around, debuts like Nicki Minaj’s Pink Friday could still fall into the “highly anticipated” category, but the reasoning was different. Two years of strong mixtapes and guest appearances meant the hip-hop faithful already knew this sometimes dirty debutante could take that gutsy Lil' Kim style to another level, and that both the single and the full-length format were at her command. The only question left is how this versatile artist would present herself to the general public, and the answer is a Gwen Stefani-meets-Baz Luhrman-meets-Young Money-type affair that both dazzles and disappoints. Feed off the production, the great musical ideas, and Minaj’s keen sense of her surroundings, and Pink Friday is an outstanding success. It’s chock-full of new wave textures and diva attitude, creating the kind of atmosphere where will.i.am stops over while you tell the haters to kill themselves over a “Video Killed the Radio Star” sample (“Check It Out”). More grand moments come when Kanye West and Minaj mack together on the great, Simple Minds-sampling “Blazin,” or when “Your Love” waltzes out of the speakers with a unique brand of hood majesty, but when “Dear Old Nicki” comes round with “In hindsight, I loved your rawness and I loved your edge,” Minaj suggests that her growth as an artist requires the sacrificing of all Trina-like qualities. Confusingly, the key track, “Romans Revenge,” finds her winning while acting as savage as ever, standing up to Eminem -- who is in gross-mode -- and literally roaring like a tiger to get the job done. This is the Nicki the mixtape crowd fell in love with, and you only need check out 2009’s mixtape Beam Me Up Scotty for examples of how the Barbie (read: pop and R&B) and the bitch (read: hip-hop) sides of Minaj can be sensibly presented together. In the end, Pink Friday is an ambitious, glossy stunner if fashion week is your favorite time of year, but Minaj didn’t earn her diva status this way. Longtime fans familiar with her underground work won’t even consider this her debut, just an extravagant coming out party, the kind where the invite mentions “no sneakers or athletic apparel.”© David Jeffries /TiVo

Candide, as a musical/opera, has a highly complex history, having gone through multiple alterations since it first premiered in 1956 with a book by Lillian Hellman. In the 1974 version, the book was rewritten by Hugh Wheeler (as adapted from Voltaire and at the insistence of director Hal Prince) with added humor, ultimately saving it from being a complete disaster by some accounts. In any case, the music is by Leonard Bernstein with lyrics by Richard Wilbur -- although additional lyrics are contributed by John Latouche, Dorothy Parker, Lillian Hellman, Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim, and John Wells. This 1989 cast recording was the last time that Bernstein conducted his famous work. The production is beautiful, and this is one of the quintessential recordings of this musical.© Sarah Erlewine /TiVo

It's hard to miss the declaration of independence within the title of I Am, Leona Lewis' first album recorded outside the confines of Simon Cowell's Syco Music. Separating from the machine that turned her into a star, Lewis seizes this fourth album as a vehicle to redefine her sound, ditching much (but not all) of the glassy gauze of "Bleeding Love" and throwing herself into a buoyant bounce somewhat inspired by the reigning British diva of the late 2010s, Adele. Lewis is canny, though. She may often trade in the same Tamla/Motown rhythms that define new millennial neo-soul -- a sound that also surfaced on her ebullient 2013 seasonal affair, Christmas, With Love -- but she and her team of producers (often led by Toby Gad but featuring several other musicians) are keenly aware of various club and EDM trends, so they're given a digital sparkle that entices, not blinds. Similarly, the slower showcases for her volcanic voice seem somewhat built to scale, opting for modulated melodrama over a full-force gale. Such a measured production means I Am appeals on a pure sonic level, eclipsing the often monolithic glare of Spirit and Glassheart, but the songs here, largely co-written by Lewis and Gad with other collaborators, are her strongest compositions, sharply crafted and passionate enough to earn the elemental allusions apparent on the opening "Thunder" and "Fire Under My Feet." If I Am does indeed open a new chapter for Leona Lewis, this album suggests it will be more intriguing than the first: she's learned how to harness her natural skills and has broadened her palette, a combination that results in her best album yet.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The truest test of Simon Cowell's power within the music industry circa 2008 was not whether American Idol could produce a star in its seventh season or if its U.K. cousin, The X Factor, would have another success in its fifth season -- it was whether he could turn Leona Lewis into the international superstar he so clearly believed she is. Lewis was the third winner of The X Factor -- the Cowell-driven replacement to Pop Idol in Britain, a replacement that came to be because he wanted to own a significant piece of the show -- and one of the key differences between Factor and Idol is that the judges can mentor the contestants and therefore have a stake in the outcome of the show, more than they do on Idol, where the judges merely comment. Rightly impressed by Lewis' multi-octave voice -- reminiscent of a warmer, earthbound Mariah Carey -- Cowell continued his mentorship after the conclusion of the show, making her the first contestant in the whole Idol/Factor enterprise that he personally shepherded through the major-label process. He struck a deal with Clive Davis -- the executive producer behind all the American Idol projects, the producer who publicly bristled when Kelly Clarkson tried to take control of her career through her original compositions -- and the two launched a grand plan to break Lewis in her native U.K. first, then slowly roll her out in the U.S. a few months later, via an appearance on Oprah and a slightly re-sequenced and remixed version of her debut, Spirit. That U.S. version drops the bonus track of Leona's version of "A Moment Like This," her first hit single that is not so coincidentally a cover of Kelly's first big single. If Kelly became a thorn in Davis' side, Leona Lewis seems happy, even eager, to play the major-label game, singing anything that comes her way, never lodging a complaint when she has to cut a couple R&B-flavored tracks to appeal to the American market. These tunes -- "Misses Glass" and "Forgive Me" -- are just slightly glitzier than the rest of Spirit, surely bearing heavier rhythms but not to the extent that the beats obscure Lewis' voice, as the whole point of Spirit is to showcase her singing, particularly those high glory notes that are all the rage on Idol/Factor. Unlike most Idol/Factor alumni, Lewis can hit those big notes but make it seem easy, never straining her voice and building nicely to the climax. Unlike most divas, there is a human quality to her voice, as she's singing to the song, not singing to her voice. Then again, this was also true of Mariah Carey on her 1990 debut, which Spirit greatly resembles in how the handful of R&B-oriented songs camouflages how this is almost entirely a stuffy middle-of-the-road pop record. Not only that, but Spirit is so old-fashioned it sounds as if it could have been released in 1990 and compete with Carey's debut for the top of the charts; her first single, "Bleeding Love," opens with a crawling organ that recalls the muted gospel of "Vision of Love," even if the skin-crawling lyric "you cut me open and I keep bleeding love" wouldn't have suited the Top 40 in 1990. That stultifying adult contemporary atmosphere may makes Spirit stilted, but it's also as savvy a move as you could expect from Cowell: ever since Mariah long ago abandoned AC for the clubs, there has been a gaping need for a vocalist like Leona Lewis, a singer who can belt it out but is safe and tame, having no interest in the perks of stardom that exist beyond the stage. And boy is Leona Lewis ever that -- she is blessed with a terrific voice but very little on-record personality, something the very professional, very inoffensive tunes emphasize. Thanks to this collection of calculatingly commercial tracks -- tunes crafted to appeal to everyone yet no one in particular -- Lewis merely comes across as the most talented and most willing singer to ever play Cowell's game, so no wonder he loves her. But this also points out the big difference between how Cowell has taken Leona Lewis under her wing and how Tommy Mottola watched over Mariah. Mottola married Carey, having both an emotional and financial stake in her career, but those mixed emotions helped obscure the machinery that drove her career. Cowell is only in it for the cash with Lewis, so the machinations are too apparent on this otherwise appealing debut. And that's too bad, because Spirit surely reveals a singer who has a richer tonal quality than any diva to come along in the past 15 years or so -- if she had gotten the tunes to match her voice, this would have been a killer record in addition to the international blockbuster that it was so carefully crafted to be.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

"While hearing these tunes in the context of the full show would be great, they sound mighty fine all alone with the quaver of Williams’ voice leading the way and touches of banter between he and the musicians surviving the editing process."© TiVo