With her tragic early death (though hardly surprising given Amy Winehouse's lifestyle) a truly unique voice of contemporary soul stopped singing on July 23, 2011. She has a voice that should never be overshadowed either by her chaotic life covering the pages of British tabloids, or by her struggles with alcohol and drugs, or even the hundreds of videos of failed concerts on YouTube... When the Winehouse phenomenon exploded with this second album, the sublime Back To Black being far superior to her first record Frank, soul music was going through a slump with hollow, syrupy R&B singers and sanitized productions flooding the scene. Few people tried to develop the path established by Aretha Franklin, Ann Peebles, Nina Simone, Tina Turner, Dinah Washington and Marlena Shaw. But then along came Amy Winehouse, with her incredible timbre, her genuine songs (which she wrote herself, unlike 90% of her peers), her vintage-tinged productions (which were never passé) and brass-filled instrumentation. To top it all off, even her image was distinctive: 50’s beehive, biker tattoos and a cheeky attitude. Back To Black topped the charts for months all over the world, and it's still a real masterpiece of soul music and R&B. When critical opinion meets popular opinion – something relatively rare that’s worth underlining - the enjoyment is only tenfold. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

January is barely ending, and here we already have one of the finest albums of 2024. The triumvirate formed by the two geniuses of Radiohead, Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood, and Sons Of Kemet's drummer, Tom Skinner, under the banner of The Smile, wastes no time. Exactly one year after their surprise revelation on the Glastonbury livestream (thanks to the pandemic) in 2021, the trio released their first full-length album, A Light For Attracting Attention. With it, the complex and fascinating universe of the Oxford quintet is finally revisited—minus Colin Greenwood, Ed O’Brien, and Phil Selway—while gaining grandeur through the strings of the London Contemporary Orchestra, already at work in 2016 on Radiohead's A Moon Shaped Pool, as well as the most prominent brass and winds from the London jazz scene (including Chelsea Charmichael and Robert Stillman).More compact, Wall Of Eyes lets warmth in. Opening the way with only seven other tracks, the title track teleports us to the tropics with its bossa acoustic guitar and Yorke's reverberating vocals. The smooth synths of a nearly R&B "Teleharmonic" follow, leading to the riffs of "Read The Room" and "Under The Pillows," creating a trippy rock passage. We then enter the dreamy piano ballad "Friend Of A Friend" and almost drown in the synthetic layers of "I Quit" before the deluge of distortions in the eight-minute "Bendic Hectic" explodes after an anxiety-inducing violin ascent. "You Know Me!" draws the curtain with the gentle piano, providing a final that's as cinematic as ever. Recorded at the legendary Abbey Road studios, with Sam Petts-Davies taking the place of the faithful producer Nigel Godrich, this second album showcases a trio in full alchemy, increasingly inspired by Can rather than the Beatles, and completely seasoned by their live shows. A masterpiece. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

The Complete Budokan 1978 captures some of Dylan's very first concert appearances in Japan and is an essential release for diehards, while an intriguing curio for the casual listener. Complete Budokan encompasses all of the material originally issued as a double LP in 1978, plus three dozen additional tracks. This lovingly remastered album, sourced from the original 24-channel multi-track analog tapes, sounds far crisper than the original release (especially the vocals). Released to coincide with the 45th anniversary of the original eight-show run at the infamous Budokan auditorium, we hear the entirety of two shows from February 28 and March 1, 1978. Bob Dylan is at a fascinating crossroads in his career here, and in fine voice. The album finds our hero in between the traveling circus that was the mid 1970s Rolling Thunder tour, and one year before his conversion to Christianity. Dylan shows us what a traditional American great he is, with a near-orchestral band and dramatically reworked takes on classic songs. Some of these arrangements are wonky, especially to modern ears. But they're always intriguingly put together, and intricately executed takes—the highlight being a knockdown, muscular "The Man in Me." It's clear from the start that this is not your grandpa's Dylan. Stirring leads on saxophone, mandolin, and fiddle deliver the vocal melodies to "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall." "Shelter from the Storm" is given a halting, reggae-ish tempo, a positively E Street-worthy sax solo, and the delightful touches one would expect from the Dead. Other tunes stray closer to a Vegas revue. "I Threw It All Away" is transformed into a full-blown showtune, as the backing vocals take center stage. One wonders if a line of chorus dancers were onstage for this or the lilting, tango-esque take on "Love Minus Zero." There is occasional flute, notably on "Mr. Tambourine Man," which we weren't sure about at first, but by the third listen we were absolutely digging it, even as it takes the tune straight to Margaritaville. © Mike McGonigal/Qobuz

What does a shrug sound like? On "Don't Know Why,” the opening track of her debut effort, Norah Jones suggests a few possibilities. The first time she sings the title phrase, she gives it a touch of indifference, the classic tossed-off movie-star shrug. Her tone shifts slightly when she hits the chorus, to convey twinges of sadness; here the casual phrasing could be an attempt to shake off a sharp memory. Later, she shrugs in a way that conveys resignation, possibly regret—she's replaying a scene, trying to understand what happened. Those shrugs and shadings, tools deployed by every jazz vocalist of the 1950s, are inescapable throughout Come Away With Me—in part because everything surrounding Jones' voice is so chill. There's room for her to emote, and room for gently cresting piano and organ chords. Unlike so many of her contemporaries, Jones knows instinctively how much (or how little!) singer the song needs. The secret of this record, which came out when Jones was 22, is its almost defiant approachability: It is calm, and open, and gentle, music for a lazy afternoon in a porch swing. As transfixing covers of Hank Williams' "Cold Cold Heart” and Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You” make clear, Jones thinks about contours and shadows when she sings; her storytelling depends as much on the scene and the atmosphere as the narrative. And Jones applies the same understatement to the original songs here, which weave together elements of country, pop, jazz and torch balladry in inventive ways. It's one thing to render an old tune with modern cleverness, a skill Jones had honed as a solo pianist/singer before she was discovered. It's quite another to transform an original tune, like Jesse Harris' "Don't Know Why,” into something that sounds ageless and eternal, like a standard. Jones does that, over and over, using just shrugs and implications, rarely raising her voice much above a whisper. © Tom Moon/Qobuz

Joshua Redman makes his Blue Note debut with his nuanced 2023 travelog where are we. Along with being his first studio album for the storied jazz label (and his 16th overall), where are we is also his first primarily vocal-oriented production, featuring singer Gabrielle Cavassa. Also joining him is pianist Aaron Parks, bassist Joe Sanders, and drummer Brian Blade. Vocally, the California-born/New Orleans-based Cavassa has a warm sound that bridges the gap between the relaxed style of alt pop artists like Billie Eilish with jazz and R&B luminaries like Billie Holiday and Phyllis Hyman. She fits nicely alongside Redman, whose own burnished tone has always evinced a vocal-like quality. There's a sense throughout the album that Redman is pulling songs from an array of influences. Most emblematic of this broad palette is "Chicago Blues," a heady cross-stitch of Count Basie's "Goin' to Chicago" and indie singer/songwriter Sufjan Stevens' "Chicago" that also features Chicago-bred vibraphonist Joel Ross. Redman returns to the hometown concept throughout the album, bringing along several special guests who each play a song associated with the place they grew up. Crescent City-born trumpeter Nicholas Payton jumps on board for a boldly reharmonized take on "Do You Know What It Means," while guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel sprinkles his fusion-influenced lines on a convincingly reworked rendition of Bruce Springsteen's "Streets of Philadelphia." We also get New York guitarist Peter Bernstein for an urbane and swinging take on the Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart standard "Manhattan." Elsewhere, Cavassa settles into warm readings of "By the Time I Get to Phoenix," "That's New England," and "Stars Fell on Alabama," all of which bring to mind the relaxed, '50s jazz of singers like June Christy, albeit with a modern creative jazz and classical-inflected artfulness that longtime Redman fans will be familiar with.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Utopia is the hip-hop blockbuster of 2023; a torrent of outrageous production that, in both sound and intent, mobilises superlatives. Travis Scott makes his comeback six years after Astroworld, the crowning achievement of a rise that seemed it would stop at nothing, before colliding with some serious problems with the law and his conscience. He sunk to a very low point, some felt nearing the end of his career. But here he is now, patching up his statute as the heavyweight of the 2010s with this fourth album, aided and abetted by such pundits of the genre as Mike Dean, WondaGurl, Jahaan Sweet and Kanye West (whose influence is obvious). It was a gamble, but one that paid off. Blended with rock and industrial influences, Utopia is first and foremost about big sound, the kind that hits you square in the chest. From Hyaena to the superb Modern Jam (produced by Guy-Man from Daft), from Lost Forever to the whopping single K-Pop, Travis Scott superbly restores his reputation, aided by an army of prestigious featuring artists (Beyoncé, The Weekend, James Blake, Drake, Yung Lean, Playboi Carti...) and his unbridled vocal imagination. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

On account of being everywhere, he may have felt like he was getting lost. Having become a major producer in the music industry, James Blake was seen on some of the biggest projects in the past few years: records as high-stakes as Travis Scott’s comeback album Utopia in July 2023, or Rosalía’s Motomami the year prior. The year before that, he had signed off on his biggest commercial success Friends That Break Your Heart, accentuated by the single “Coming Back” (featuring SZA). It was a good time for the Englishman to get back to his roots, having emerged at the beginning of the 2010s on the tail end of the short-lived wave of post-dubsteppers like Mount Kimbie and SBTRKT. This wave was spearheaded by labels such as Hessle Audio, Hemlock, or the Belgian R&S, which had released its acclaimed second EP CMYK in 2010.Now it's the return of James Blake 1.0, with winks to his origins in the English bass music scene, between the dubstep of the excellent “Loading” (with English singer Judie Tzuke, known for her hit “Stay with me till Dawn” in 1979), the grime single “Big Hammer,” and even “Fall Back,” paying homage to Burial’s muted beats. He goes even further back into the history of British dance music with the more techno “Tell Me,” with a beat that rises at full speed and a raving synth loop that vanishes into thin air. And what can be said about the celestial finale, “Playing Robots into Heaven,” a track that, against all odds, lives up to its name perfectly? Some pure, unadulterated James Blake, 100% all-natural! © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz    

With Iechyd Da - “good health” in Welsh as he comes from West Kirby, a small town nestled in the Wirral peninsula between Wales and Liverpool - Bill Ryder-Jones begins 2024 with grace. This fifth record follows the hazy shoegaze of Yawn, released 5 years earlier, and Yawny Yawn, his stripped-back piano version. The ex-guitarist of The Coral embarked on his solo journey in 2008 with a definitive departure from the rock quintet, whose glory had become as overwhelming as its stresses. These difficulties and his own melancholy have formed the basis, throughout his career, of the Englishman’s intimate music of languid, chamber-like folk ballads.They roll out here with an immensity that is more organic and luminous, releasing the pain of thwarted love with soaring strings. Opting for orchestral pop, sometimes reminiscent of the 60s, the gritty songwriter always writes of his struggles but is now fuelled by hope. Mirroring contortions of the heart and mind, the rhythms speed up and fade out, and the orchestration builds and diminishes, illustrating his emotions with melodic precision and luxury. In this optimistic production, the mixing once again entrusted to James Ellis Ford, we hear for the first time a village children’s choir (“We Don’t Need Them”, “It’s Today Again”), which brings an innocent warmth. The whole thing gently closes with the delicate notes of the instrumental song “Nos Da” (“good night” in Welsh). Astounding. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

Teddy Swims amassed a big enough following through his YouTube covers of Michael Jackson, Shania Twain, and Amy Winehouse to earn himself a major label deal. After signing with Warner Bros. in early 2020, the Georgia-based singer kicked off a prolific string of one-off singles and EPs that tested the range of his powerhouse voice. After three years, he finally landed a charting hit with 2023's torchy "Lose Control," the lead single from his debut album, I've Tried Everything But Therapy, Pt. 1. Swims' music lives somewhere between vintage soul, classic rock, and contemporary pop balladry with a bit of a country kick. Surrounding his breakout single are nine more tastefully arranged songs aided by a committee of producers and hitmakers like Ammo, Julian Bunetta, and John Ryan. Emotional opener "Some Things I'll Never Know" is a dusky piano ballad that feels like a custom-built showpiece, but deeper cuts like "The Door" and "Flame" are a little more interesting, each with its own moody, late-night vibe and pleasingly organic feel. Swims' voice sounds comfortable and lived in and the songs generally serve this effect without going too far over the top into abject showiness. He's come a long way since fronting local Atlanta rock and soul bands and his experience shows on this debut.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

It's hard to overstate how much the songs of Jagged Little Pill — released on feminist pioneer Madonna's Maverick label at a moment when Hootie & the Blowfish and the theme from Friends were anesthetizing America — shook up pop radio in 1995. No one was prepared for first single "You Oughta Know," which stormed into ubiquity in a blaze of raw fury aimed at a "Mr. Duplicity" who rebounded too soon. Often mis-characterized as pure vengeance, the dynamics-propelled rocker (with bass and guitar from Flea and Dave Navarro, then of the Red Hot Chili Peppers) was really about being forthright and staking a claim to un-pretty feelings: "And every time you speak her name/ Does she know how you told me/ You'd hold me until you died." Of course, Morissette had no choice but to be divisive. From the album's opener "All I Really Want," you'll know if you love or hate her voice, with its affected tics and shrieks. Let it also be said that Jagged Little Pill is not an album for those who find harmonica grating, and that jaunty hit "Ironic" may drive literalists crazy with its litany of inconveniences ("It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife"). But it's that lack of self-consciousness from Morissette (19 years old at the time) that makes songs such as the grungy "Forgiven" — a defiance against patriarchal Catholic guilt — and self-empowerment bop "You Learn" a clarion call of independence for young women looking to ditch fear. It also let her create a completely new sound that didn't draw directly from typical female influences (save for the folksy "Hand In My Pocket", which comes on like the spiritual descendent of Edie Brickell's "What I Am") and left a mold for countless female artists after. © Qobuz

After a long break from making Tame Impala music, during which time Kevin Parker produced other people's albums and played in side projects, 2015's Currents shows that much has changed with the project. Like before, Parker recorded the album on his own, only this time without Dave Fridmann's guiding hand and by mostly forsaking electric guitars in favor of a wealth of synthesizers, and with a much more relaxed, intimate approach. In addition to the soft rock of the '70s feel that permeates the sound, Parker adds elements of R&B and hip-hop to the mix, gets lyrically introspective in spots, and generally sounds like he's either on the verge of a long nap or just waking up from one. These aren't bad things when done right, and Parker's prowess as a producer and musician makes most of Currents palatable, if not extremely exciting. However, by focusing on all these new elements, and by sleepwalking through at least half of the songs, this new way of doing things does a lot to frustrate the expectations of anyone looking to this album as another mind-blowing expression of guitar-heavy psych-pop. It's hard to deny artists the chance for change or growth, and Parker seems dedicated to both here. Where you can fault them is if they don't change or grow in an interesting or unique way. Great chunks of Currents sound like plenty of other bands and artists in 2015, especially since practically everyone with access to recording equipment did their own takes on midtempo, chilled-out R&B. Does Parker do it as well as others like Unknown Mortal Orchestra or Caribou? Sure, he does. Is it enough to make this album worth checking out? Yes, but it's not enough to make it an improvement over his previous work. At Tame Impala's best, they blend huge guitar sounds, melodic basslines, and vintage synths into sweeping psychedelic rock with energy and drive that feel hugely cinematic while still feeling real. There are only a couple times here when Parker comes close to that sweet spot. For example, the both "Let It Happen" and "Reality in Motion" have a good blend of guitars and synths and a sense of purpose that's often missing elsewhere. There are far more times where he strays too far from his strengths and gets bogged down in meandering, overly smoothed-out sounds and meandering songs that deliver no real payoff or sound half-baked at best, like the embarrassingly weak "Cause I'm a Man." It's too bad that Parker stashed his guitars away instead of keeping them around to add to the mix. It's definitely not a case of addition by subtraction; it's quite the opposite. While Currents would have made a decent Kevin Parker solo album, people coming to the album and expecting to hear the Tame Impala they are used to will most likely end up quite disappointed.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

Imagine Dragons give away the plot with the very title of Evolve, the 2017 sequel to 2015's sophomore set, Smoke + Mirrors. Not content to stay in one emotional or musical spot, Imagine Dragons consciously move forward on Evolve, pushing themselves into a positive place, a transition that mirrors lead singer Dan Reynolds working through a heavy depression. Some of that darkness seeped into Smoke + Mirrors, but it's not heard here. Opening with "I Don't Know Why," a glitzy dance-rock song that nods at a disco past but exists in an EDM present, the record often rides along to a neon pulse. It's not that Imagine Dragons have abandoned the heavy-footed stomp they patented on "Radioactive," but they've threaded in busy, percolating electronic beats and give plenty of space to gilded keyboards. When the tempo is quick, the results are festival-friendly electro-rockers. When the tempo is slow, the results feel like a hybrid of Coldplay and Mr. Mister -- power rock ballads spiked with laser drums. As throwback as that sensibility may be, the band strives to be thoroughly modern, emphasizing rhythms and gargantuan hooks to tightly constructed compositions. Whenever the group tries a new sound -- pumping up "Mouth of the River" with fuzz guitars or attempting a bit of rap-rock on "Start Over" -- it feels not like experimentation but like a quick scan through a new music playlist. And that means Evolve feels very much like the digital Zeitgeist of 2017.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

In covering the Beatles, jazz pianist Brad Mehldau chose to focus on the "strangeness" of the band's music. But as he explains in the liner notes, it's also the "universality," present in parallel to strangeness, that makes it so inviting and influential; the combination of the two—which may also be the secret to the band's artistic immortality—is, according to Mehldau, what underpins his approach to this beautifully realized project. Filmed and recorded live in front of an audience at the Philharmonie de Paris, this session benefits from intelligently placed microphones and minimal applause. It was edited by Camille Grateau, mixed by Nicolas Poitrenaud, and mastered in the U.S. by Greg Calbi at Sterling Sound. Though cries of "sellout" from jazz purists are sure-to-come, listeners will find many insights into Mehldau's playing and the band's utterly original creative universe. Opening with an unbroken suite of three tunes in their entirety ("I Am The Walrus," "Your Mother Should Know and "I Saw Her Standing There"—the last of which he plays in barrelhouse piano style), it's very clear that Mehldau brought immense thought, passion and especially respect for the band's prismatic genius to this project. He genuinely feels this music, most of which was composed on piano. Sticking relatively close to the familiar melodies, Mehldau embroiders them with a flow of ideas and chordal tangents. His improvisations never venture too far out, however, nor are they ever disconnected from any song's basic emotional underpinning. As is to be expected, some interpretations are more successful than others. "Here, There and Everywhere," played mostly in the piano's highest registers, stretches and crystallizes but abruptly stops, apparently out of discovery. In other cases, Mehldau uncovers rich new veins of inspiration: He makes a high energy mini concerto out of the usually triumphant "Maxwell's Silver Hammer," improvising high notes, adding moody journeys of improvisation, and at times snapping back into choruses where he flashes ornate New Orleans piano professor bravado. Best of all, at least for sentimentalists, is the pianist—who's often accused of a certain detachment and coldness in his playing—lingering over lush Paul McCartney songs like "Golden Slumbers" and "For No One," raising their melodic purity to new heights of poignancy. A rambunctious, joyous success on every level. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

While he was still leader of progressive rock group Genesis, Phil Collins launched his solo career and released Face Value in 1981. A record which quickly proves to be one of the biggest musical surprises of the year, and one which allows the British artist to begin his ascension as one of the biggest stars of the 1980s. Thanks to the deep and passionate voice of the singer, as well as the numerous pop/soul ballads and his talent for aggressive rock'n'roll, this record has sold (and is currently selling) better than any installment by Genesis. The Town House studio recording sessions in London have obviously greatly inspired Collins who experiments with many studio techniques and leaves plenty of room for his own rhythm guitar, in spite of the fact that he is widely known and admired for his drumming skills. He also takes advantage of his own independence to do a tribute to black American music which is so dear to him, as he invite Phenix Horns, the prestigious brass section for Earth, Wind & Fire, to perform on the record. ©LG/Qobuz

Who's Next is not an album lacking for reissues. In addition to a deluxe edition from 2003, there have also been multiple audiophile editions and remasters of the album since its 1971 release. So what could a "super deluxe edition" possibly contain? Quite a bit, as it turns out. As even casual Who fans know, the genesis of Who's Next was as Lifehouse, a multimedia rock opera even more ambitious than Tommy. Pete Townshend had developed a bizarre, dystopian story that somehow merged his devotion to Indian guru Meher Baba, his recent fascination with synthesizers, and the idea that the only thing that could save humanity from a test-tube-bound future was "real rock 'n' roll." Yeah, the aftereffects of the '60s were wild. After some live shows at the Young Vic in London and a series of marathon recording sessions, a 16-song tracklist was finalized, but by this point, it was collectively decided—both creatively and commercially—that perhaps another concept-dense double album might not be the best studio follow-up to Tommy. So, eight Lifehouse songs were re-cut and one new song ("My Wife") was recorded and the leaner, meaner Who's Next was released in August 1971. The album was both an instant success and has become an undisputed part of the classic rock canon, thanks to the inclusion of absolutely iconic tracks like "Won't Get Fooled Again," "Baba O'Riley," and "Behind Blue Eyes."While one could make an argument that the taut and focused power of Who's Next inadvertently proved the point of the Lifehouse story (namely, that rock 'n' roll is most effective when it's at its most primal), it's important to remember that Who's Next was also a giant artistic leap forward for the Who, as it found them at the peak of their powers as a pummeling rock band and as a band willing to be experimental and artful in their approach to being a pummeling rock band. (If any evidence is needed of the group's unrivaled power, check out take 13 of "Won't Get Fooled Again" on this set, which is so immediate and electric that it could easily be mistaken for a concert performance.) While several Lifehouse tracks found their way to other Who and Townshend records, getting a sense of the contours of the project has been difficult. But this massive, 155-track set creates those lines thanks to the inclusion of multiple Townshend demos as well as recording sessions of Life House tracks that occurred both before and after the release of Who's Next, and, most notably, two freshly mixed live shows from 1971 (including one of the Young Vic shows) that provided both the energy and, in some cases the basic tracks, for the album versions. While nothing on this bursting-at-the-seams edition overrides the all-killer-no-filler approach of Who's Next, it does provide plenty of long-desired context and documentation for what made that record so powerful. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

There's a narrative to the soundtrack for Bradley Cooper's 2018 remake of A Star Is Born, one that mirrors the one told in the movie. Often, the album features dialogue ripped from the screen -- a full 15 tracks, actually, amounting to seven minutes of this 74-minute album -- which means A Star Is Born almost plays like a Disney record from the '60s or '70s: it's designed to tide listeners over until they get a chance to see the movie again. Of course, A Star Is Born is a musical, so its soundtrack is filled with full-fledged songs, all of which serve the story that the dialogue gooses along. Strip out the distracting dialogue tracks and the plot of A Star Is Born is still evident, as the music moves from the grungy Americana of Cooper's character, through his affecting duets with Lady Gaga, toward her flashy pop, and then culminating with "I'll Never Love Again," the song where the two estranged lovers reunite. Each of these phases is expertly executed. Lukas Nelson assists Cooper in the rangy grunge of "Black Eyes," while Jason Isbell's spare "Maybe It's Time" is an affecting slice of Americana. The second stage, where Gaga is duetting with Cooper, fuses their sensibilities seamlessly, particularly on the aching ballad "Shallow" and loping country-rock of "Music to My Eyes," which was co-written by Nelson and Gaga. Her pop section plays like its own EP, and it's snappy, stylish, and savvy, particularly on the retro-disco of "Why Did You Do That?" and soulful "Heal Me." All the songs make sense narratively and on their own, so they hold together well and would amount to a first-rate soundtrack, if it weren't for those meddling dialogue tracks, which wind up sapping any kind of momentum for the album.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo