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Frescobaldi brilliantly combines improvisation and architecture. These qualities resonate with the discography of harpsichordist Christophe Rousset, whose choice of repertoire and interpretation are adventurous and serious at the same time. Frescobaldi’s counterpoint goes along with the finest art of singing, inherited from the Italian madrigal, and the flexibility of his language highlights the virtuosity of his compositions. Christophe Rousset recorded toccate and partite on a beautiful and original harpsichord of the late 16th century. Its sound faithfully testifies for the significant place of this First Book of harpsichord pieces in the nascent modernity of Frescobaldi. If the modal harmonies are still old-fashioned, the free beat and subtle melodies make it an indisputable baroque master, admired from Italy to France and Germany: Bach is said to have had a copy of his Fiori musicali! This new disc by Christophe Rousset reveals the first treasures composed specifically for the harpsichord. Its repertoire was served from the beginning by musicians whose expressive boldness recalls in a musical way Caravaggio’s chiaroscuro. © Aparté

Three years after the success of 1988, featuring the hit tracks Liquid Sunshine and My Face, it’s full steam ahead for Biga* Ranx with this fifth album, Sunset Cassette. For several months he has been giving us teasers, releasing the singles My Driver (a dub stepper track produced by the Franco-Swiss OBF Crew, Solid (with Lil Slow, a colleague from Brigante Records) and Hot Water (featuring the Guyanese star Blakkamoore), but Sunset Cassette still has many more hidden gems. The musician from the French city Tours shows off his skills on the OP-1 portable synthesizer, giving his music that characteristic texture. With the help of French producer Blundetto (for the mellotron, flute, organ, brass, and some of the arrangements), it’s clear that Biga* Ranx is feeling confident on this album, even trying his hand at French lyrics (on Vieille Branche, Regarde-moi, Les Poches) and doing so successfully, with perhaps even more emotion than in English. Fans can also enjoy the collaboration with another French reggae star, Pupajim, the singer from Stand High Patrol, on Aubépines. The duo already worked together in 2019 on Atili’s Subterranean Exodus, but Biga only sang a short verse. The collaboration is more balanced this time in terms of the vocals and the orchestration and opens up Biga* Ranx’s horizons even further. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

Issued without advance notice 17 days after Kendrick Lamar's riveting 2016 Grammy Awards performance, untitled unmastered. consists of eight demos that are simply numbered and dated. Apart from segments previewed at the Grammys and late-night television appearances, there was no formal promotion. A postscript, it's (artfully) artless in presentation -- not even basic credits appear on the Army green liner card in the compact disc edition -- yet it's almost as lyrically and musically rich as To Pimp a Butterfly. The dates indicate that the majority of the material was made during the sessions for that album, and the presence of many of its players and vocalists is unmistakable. This was assembled with a high level of care that is immediately evident, its components sequenced to foster an easy listen. Track-to-track flow, however, is about the only aspect of this release that can be called smooth. After an intimate spoken intro from Bilal, the set segues into an urgent judgment-day scenario with squealing strings and a resounding bassline as Lamar confronts mortality and extinction with urgent exasperation. He observes terrifying scenes all the while sensing possible relief ("No more running from world wars," "No more discriminating the poor"). untitled unmastered. offers this and other variations on the connected themes of societal ills, faith, and survival that drove the output it follows, with Lamar at his best when countering proudly materialistic boasts with ever-striking acknowledgments of the odds perilously weighted against his people. Remarkably, this hits its stride in the second half. The stretch involves a rolling, ornamented retro-contemporary production from Adrian Younge and Ali Shaheed Muhammad (with vocal assists from Bilal and Cee Lo Green), a stitched suite that is alternately stern and humorously off the cuff (featuring Egypt, five-year-old son of Alicia Keys and Swizz Beatz, as co-producer and vocalist), and a finale of Thundercat-propelled funk. Even while coasting over the latter's breezy and smacking groove, Lamar fills the space with meaning, detailing a confrontation with sharp quips and stinging reprimands. While Lamar referred to these tracks as demos, and not one of them has the pop-soul appeal of "These Walls" or the Black Lives Matter protest-anthem potential of "Alright," untitled unmastered. is no mere offcut dump. It's as vital as anything else its maker has released.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

At this point of his career, the word "prolific" is attached to Gucci Mane almost as often as "Atlanta" and "trap." So it's a surprise that it took two years and a whole lot of soul-searching for the prolific Atlanta trap godfather to complete his official 16th full-length, Breath of Fresh Air. Unlike past albums, this one is notable for being one of Gucci's more "positive" LPs, an intentional pivot that came as a result of the numerous high-profile deaths and imprisonments of his close friends and mentees. Indeed, the album lives up to the title and is one of his most accessible and enjoyable sets to date, packed with nostalgic samples, refreshing production, and his ever-reliably quotable bars. While the wanton violence and anger has been toned down slightly, the sober family man hasn't been declawed by any means. The beats hit hard, the sex is still explicit, and his guests more than make up for his occasional laid-back approach. Highlights include "Thank Me," which features a posthumous appearance by one of his aforementioned fallen comrades, Young Dolph, and production by Kori Anders so popping it'll put a stank face on the hardest of critics; the head-bobbing earworm "There I Go" with J. Cole and Mike WiLL Made-It; and the Disc 1 bookends "Must Be Me" and "Stomach Grumbling," two of Fresh Air's main thesis statements. Disc 2 features standouts like the dramatic, string-laden "06 Gucci" with DaBaby and 21 Savage and the Zaytoven-produced singalong "Say No Mo." Even though it's marketed as a "new positive" Gucci, Breath of Fresh Air shouldn't worry longtime fans wondering if he's seen the light and switched to gospel: this is yet another collection of rousing, engaging trap from a master veteran who knows exactly what his loyal fan base demands.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Blowing the promise of his Hell Can Wait EP into an extraordinary double LP, Summertime '06 finds rapper Vince Staples with all the pieces in place. His delivery is still sneering and steady with a slight sway that suggests he's stoned, but like pop gangstas Chief Keef or Future, he can craft a memorable melody out of chopped-up nonsense. Check the infectious "Senorita" for proof, but also check the brilliant "Lift Me Up" for Staples as the elevated rap writer, offering an uncompromising gangsta stance that's both classic ("They follow me while shoppin") and pushing the envelope (Staples tears down a list of fashion labels that don't respect their urban audience). Cali references abound and still the music, most of it from producers No ID and Clams Casino, makes it seem as if the rapper lives in the shadows, not just because it is dark, but also because it is equally attractive and mysterious. Even with the revered duo in fine form, it's producer DJ Dahi who takes first prize, as "Birds & Bees" sounds like a paranoid funk breakdown, thick and brittle enough to accompany lyrics like "I'm a gangsta like my daddy/My mommy called me 'her problem' when she had me/They found another dead body in the alley." Splitting this weighty and rich effort into digestible chunks, the album's physical release comes on two separate discs, making Summertime '06 an artistic triumph wrapped in conceptually fitting package.© David Jeffries /TiVo

In danger of quickly becoming the Pete Best of the French electronic scene, Alex Gopher finally made a worldwide splash with his 1998 full-length debut, You, My Baby & I (released in the U.S. one year later on V2). The former associate with Air and longtime producer for two linchpins of the Gallic dance world (the Solid and Source labels) leans toward the Cassius and Dimitri from Paris arm of French dance, heavy on the filtered-disco and good-time funk inspirations instead of the slightly more uptight acid squiggles of Daft Punk and compatriots. But he does have the same Parliament-Funkadelic inclinations as Daft Punk, drafting P-Funk vocalist Michael "Clip" Payne for several tracks. Gopher proves himself just as excellent a producer as Air or Daft Punk, emphasizing a sound based on the studio sheen of disco and late-'90s hip-hop throughout. The occasional detour through more atmospheric territory also works well, not-so-strangely reminiscent of Air (Jean-Benoit Dunckel guests) on the vocoder haze of "Ralph & Kathy." Throughout, Gopher proves that he has no need (or desire) to ride anyone's coattails. © John Bush /TiVo

Françoise Hardy's first record of the '80s was, like the last of the '70s, produced by Gabriel Yared. Hardy's songs were mostly ballads, and if they possessed more character than the great majority of the era's French pop, they still rarely made much of an impression. The opener "Jazzy Retro Satanas" is one of the exceptions to the ballads rule, a breezy up-tempo number that moved from shades of jazzy improv to sleek, brassy disco with a complement of shrieking backing vocalists. "Bosse Bossez Bossa" was one of the weakest songs she had ever recorded, an annoyingly repetitive toss-off that mentions the bossa nova nearly every five seconds yet never references it musically. Françoise Hardy was still capable of brilliance -- "Si C'est Vraiment Vraiment Vrai" is one of her few strong ballads of the era -- but the bland arrangements and weak material foiled most of her attempts at artistry.© John Bush /TiVo