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Since several of the songs here are the type that would get requested (such as "People," "The Girl from Ipanema," and "The Days of Wine and Roses") in the mid-'60s, this particular Oscar Peterson CD reissue would not seem to have much potential, but the pianist mostly uplifts the material and adds a few songs (such as his own "Goodbye, J.D." and John Lewis' "D & E") that probably no one asked for. Overall, this is a reasonably enjoyable Oscar Peterson session, featuring bassist Ray Brown and drummer Ed Thigpen.© Scott Yanow /TiVo

Welcome To The Jungle, It’s So Easy, Nightrain, Mr Brownstone, Paradise City, My Michelle, Sweet Child O’ Mine, You’re Crazy… Look no further to explain the success of this monument that sold over thirty million copies worldwide: right from the start, it feels like a best-of album rather than a first studio effort… Even Out Ta Get Me, Think About You, Anything Goes and Rocket Queen, the four “weak tracks” of this masterpiece, would have satisfied fans of other bands who were sick of Guns N’ Roses at the time. Add to this two tracks that were sidelined at the time mostly for copyright reasons and are unearthed here, Shadow Of Your Love and Move To The City, as well as the studio version of Reckless Life. Though they feel like a walking disaster, this mighty gang had something others didn’t have in the microcosm of the Los Angeles hard rock scene: the ability to give birth to rock classics in record time. Some will no doubt find it unjust that the controversial track One In A Million was a kind of collateral victim of the reissue of Lies, from which it was removed. But this improved rerelease goes to show that, even if it wasn’t necessarily their goal, the musicians’ sound and performance are also two major components in any masterpiece. The reason they decided to include the before and after Appetite For Destruction, meaning the two EPs Live?!*@ Like a Suicide (the false live) and G N' R Lies, is because it is clear that all the ingredients were far from being in place at the Sound Studio where the twenty-ish alternative versions were recorded, featured here as a “bonus”. Mike Clink’s expert production, and Steve Thompson and Michael Barbiero’s calibrated and well-balanced mixing obviously helped give the selected original twelve songs their ultimate form. And therefore optimal efficiency. But other live or acoustic titles gleaned here and there to close out this reissue (Bob Dylan’s Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door (Live), It’s So Easy (Live), AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie (Live), November Rain (Acoustic), the very short but promising The Plague, the instrumental Ain’t Goin’ Down No More or the Rolling Stones’ Jumpin’ Jack Flash (Acoustic)) prove that the band’s five members went through a period, albeit much too short, in which they were touched by grace. And there will most likely be further proof if one day Axl Rose decides to unearth the version of the album he re-recorded in 1999 with the new Guns N’ Roses line-up, without Slash, Izzy Stradlin, Duff McKagan and Steven Adler. It was with this winning cast that Guns N' Roses beat the ultimate sales record for a first album in the United States. And although the multiple line-up evolutions that followed didn’t lead to any commercial disasters, they never gave the band the opportunity to repeat the feat of Appetite For Destruction. © Jean-Pierre Sabouret/Qobuz

Who We Used to Be is the seventh studio album from English singer/songwriter James Blunt, following the release of 2019's Once Upon a Mind. Alongside the upbeat, breezy songwriting that Blunt has become known for, this record also sees him exploring some darker themes centered around aging, loss, and the passage of time.© Liam Martin /TiVo

Joni Mitchell's ongoing Archives series has been an overwhelming success and the third volume somehow manages to outdo its predecessors. Where Volume 1 gave a raw, warts-and-all look at a developing talent wrestling with her creative identity and Volume 2 showed that talent operating at an astonishingly high level, Volume 3 documents Mitchell's transition from a truly gifted artist pushing the boundaries of the rock-culture zeitgeist into a mad genius staking her own sonic territories. This set, probably more than any other that has been or will be part of this series, is dynamic and revelatory, like pulling back the curtain on the Wizard of Oz and finding an actual wizard doing real wizardry. While Vol. 3 falls short of giving blow-by-blow documentation of the incredible studio-as-an-instrument work Mitchell did to transform For the Roses, Court and Spark, and—most triumphantly—The Hissing of Summer Lawns from jazz-inflected pop-folk records into towering artistic statements (most of the songs here are presented in either spare embryonic versions or funky, recalibrated live takes, with little middle ground). This volume repeatedly demonstrates Mitchell's unerring gift for songwriting that is singular and superlative, as well as her willingness to build sonic scaffolding for those songs that is as complementary as it is challenging. The results are often just as impactful in their simplest renditions (a live acoustic version of "This Flight Tonight" loses the electric filigree and multi-tracked harmony vocals but still can stop traffic), and there are real revelations in the early and alternate versions of these well-known album tracks. In fact, most of these early versions would have made excellent album tracks. "See You Sometime" especially benefits from a loose, swinging airiness that's replaced with a denser arrangement on For the Roses, a streamlined, acoustic demo of "Raised on Robbery" is missing the full-band energy of the final version, but employs some wild background vocals that give the number an entirely different vibe, and a demo of "Help Me"—just Mitchell and a guitar—is breathtaking in its elegance. Despite the strengths of these more straight-ahead versions, Mitchell was clearly going to be dissatisfied with releasing them in forms that were merely "really good," when—with more work in the studio and the multi-track editing suite—they would be transformed into work that was "truly great."  © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

The "difficult second album" is one of the perennial rock & roll clichés, but few second albums ever were as difficult as Use Your Illusion. Not really conceived as a double album but impossible to separate as individual works, Use Your Illusion is a shining example of a suddenly successful band getting it all wrong and letting its ambitions run wild. Taking nearly three years to complete, the recording of the album was clearly difficult, and tensions between Slash, Izzy Stradlin, and Axl Rose are evident from the start. The two guitarists, particularly Stradlin, are trying to keep the group closer to its hard rock roots, but Rose has pretensions of being Queen and Elton John, which is particularly odd for a notoriously homophobic Midwestern boy. Conceivably, the two aspirations could have been divided between the two records, but instead they are just thrown into the blender -- it's just a coincidence that Use Your Illusion I is a harder-rocking record than II. Stradlin has a stronger presence on I, contributing three of the best songs -- "Dust n' Bones," "You Ain't the First," and "Double Talkin' Jive" -- which help keep the album in Stonesy Aerosmith territory. On the whole, the album is stronger than II, even though there's a fair amount of filler, including a dippy psychedelic collaboration with Alice Cooper and a song that takes its title from the Osmonds' biggest hit. But it also has two ambitious set pieces, "November Rain" and "Coma," which find Rose fulfilling his ambitions, as well as the ferocious, metallic "Perfect Crime" and the original version of the power ballad "Don't Cry." Still, it can be a chore to find the highlights on the record amid the overblown production and endless amounts of filler.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

A bassist vital to the US jazz scene since the 90’s – partner of choice for musicians as notable as Joe Henderson, Joshua Redman, Roy Hargrove, and Pat Metheny – Christian McBride, alongside his frequent work as a sideman (on over 300 records to date), leads a rich career as a frontman, expanding upon his orchestral formations (from trios to big band) in varying registers. He encompasses a large palette of styles that are always deeply anchored in the foundations of traditional African-American jazz. This new record conceived and recorded in partnership with another bass virtuoso, Edgar Meyer, himself exploring other idioms and imagining other landscapes (from bluegrass to “crossover” classical), indisputably introduces a new perspective to the bassist’s rich discography.Intended to feel like a conversation between friends, each speaking in a relaxed, playful tone, offering support through active listening in order for each to be able to “play their own melody” with full peace and security of mind, But Who’s Gonna Play the Melody? sounds like a charming and timeless departure into a world entirely dedicated to the bass. Applying their great virtuosity towards each melody, without ever veering into competitive territory, the two musicians, with an irresistibly natural sense of groove, never cease to seduce the listener through a repertoire that draws not only from jazz, but also from folk, classical music, bluegrass, and funk, making room for the kind of collective memory that goes beyond styles and generations. An album with no pretense other than the pure pleasure of playing music – authentically all-encompassing in the best possible way. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

The maelstrom of hype surrounding self-modeled Hollywood pop star Lana Del Rey's 2012 breakthrough album, Born to Die, found critics, listeners, and pop culture aficionados divided about her detached, hyper-stylized approach to every aspect of her music and public persona. What managed to get overlooked by many was that Born to Die made such a polarizing impression because it actually offered something that didn't sound like anything else. Del Rey's sultry, overstated orchestral pop recast her as some sort of vaguely imagined chanteuse for a generation raised on Adderall and the Internet, with heavy doses of Twin Peaks atmosphere adding a creepy sheen to intentionally vapid (and undeniably catchy) radio hits. Follow-up album Ultraviolence shifts gears considerably, building a thick, slow-moving atmosphere with its languid songs and opulent arrangements. Gone are the big beats and glossy production that resulted in tracks like "Summertime Sadness." Instead, Ultraviolence begins with the protracted, rolling melancholia of "Cruel World," nearly seven minutes of what feels like a sad, reverb-drenched daydream. The song sets the stage for the rest of the album, which simmers with a haunted, yearning feeling but never boils over. Even the most pop-friendly moments here are steeped in patient, jazz-inflected moodiness, as with the sad-eyed longing of "Shades of Cool" or the unexpected tempo changes that connect the slinky verses of single "West Coast" to their syrupy, swaying choruses. Production from the Black Keys' Dan Auerbach might have something to do with the metered restraint that permeates the album, with songs like "Sad Girl" carrying some of the slow-burning touches of greasy blues-rock Auerbach is known for. A few puzzling moments break up the continuity of the album. The somewhat hooky elements of "Brooklyn Baby" can't quite rise above its disjointed song structure and cringeable lyrics that could be taken either as mockery of the hipster lifestyle or self-parody. "Money Power Glory" steps briefly out of the overall dreamscape of the album, sounding like a tossed-off outtake from the Born to Die sessions. Despite these mild missteps, Ultraviolence thrives for the most part in its density, meant clearly to be absorbed as an entire experience, with even its weaker pieces contributing to a mood that's consumptive, sexy, and as eerie as big-budget pop music gets. Del Rey's loudest detractors criticized her music as a hollow, cliché-ridden product designed by the music industry and lacking the type of substance that makes real pop stars pop. Ultraviolence asserts that as a songwriter, she has complete control of her craft, deciding on songs far less flashy or immediate but still uniquely captivating. As these songs shift her sound into more mature and nuanced places, it becomes clear that every deadpan affectation, lispy lyric, and overblown allusion to desperate living has been a knowing move in the creation of the strange, beguiling character -- and sonic experience -- we know as Lana Del Rey.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

Use Your Illusion II is more serious and ambitious than I, but it's also considerably more pretentious. Featuring no less than four songs that run over six minutes, II is heavy on epics, whether it's the charging funk metal of "Locomotive," the antiwar "Civil War," or the multipart "Estranged." As if an attempt to balance the grandiose epics, the record is loaded with an extraordinary amount of filler. "14 Years" may have a lean, Stonesy rhythm, and Duff McKagan's Johnny Thunders homage, "So Fine," may be entertaining, but there's no forgiving the ridiculous "Get in the Ring," where Axl Rose threatens rock journalists by name because they gave him bad reviews; the misinterpretation of Dylan's "Knockin' on Heaven's Door"; another version of "Don't Cry"; and the bizarre closer, "My World," which probably captures Rose's instability as effectively as the tortured poetry of his epics. That said, there are numerous strengths to Use Your Illusion II; a couple of songs have a nervy energy, and for all their pretensions, the overblown epics are effective, though strangely enough, they reveal notorious homophobe Rose's aspirations of being a cross between Elton John and Freddie Mercury. But the pompous production and poor pacing make the album tiring for anyone who isn't a dedicated listener.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Guns N' Roses' debut, Appetite for Destruction was a turning point for hard rock in the late '80s -- it was a dirty, dangerous, and mean record in a time when heavy metal meant nothing but a good time. On the surface, Guns N' Roses may appear to celebrate the same things as their peers -- namely, sex, liquor, drugs, and rock & roll -- but there is a nasty edge to their songs, since Axl Rose doesn't see much fun in the urban sprawl of L.A. and its parade of heavy metal thugs, cheap women, booze, and crime. The music is as nasty as the lyrics, wallowing in a bluesy, metallic hard rock borrowed from Aerosmith, AC/DC, and countless faceless hard rock bands of the early '80s. It's a primal, sleazy sound that adds grit to already grim tales. It also makes Rose's misogyny, fear, and anger hard to dismiss as merely an artistic statement; this is music that sounds lived-in. And that's exactly why Appetite for Destruction is such a powerful record -- not only does Rose have fears, but he also is vulnerable, particularly on the power ballad "Sweet Child O' Mine." He also has a talent for conveying the fears and horrors of the decaying inner city, whether it's on the charging "Welcome to the Jungle," the heroin ode "Mr. Brownstone," or "Paradise City," which simply wants out. But as good as Rose's lyrics and screeching vocals are, they wouldn't be nearly as effective without the twin-guitar interplay of Slash and Izzy Stradlin, who spit out riffs and solos better than any band since the Rolling Stones, and that's what makes Appetite for Destruction the best metal record of the late '80s.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

With this February 1996 album, Nick Cave took up his role as the bipolar preacher, caught between sin and redemption. Half goth-punk Johnny Cash, half infernal Lee Hazlewood, the brains of the Bad Seeds, a crooner to the core, told his stories of death, betrayal, sex, violence and passion... His cavernous voice and his Biblical pen fascinated fans. Behind him, the Bad Seeds were knitting together a blood-red score, a cocktail of blues and jazz on ghostly pianos, disquieting guitars and martial percussions. This is a Nick Cave in full Nosferatu mode, and he even has a couple of virgins to snack on: his double, PJ Harvey, on Henry Lee, and his compatriot Kylie Minogue for an erotic thriller entitled Where The Wild Roses Grow. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

The twin polarities upon which Use Your Illusion has always derived its unique energy from are its absolute bigness and its unparallelled sense of vindictive martyrdom. This deluxe set—which doubles the length of the combined two original albums by including two full live sets—is definitely big, but without the inclusion of additional studio tracks (no demos, b-sides or outtakes) doesn't expand on the original in any meaningful way.  Which means that Illusion is still trapped in its own unique 1991 amber. From its odd sequencing—which alternates between melodramatic grandiosity, midtempo sleaze, and energetic rockers built solely on bitterness and spite—to the stultifying airlessness of the recording (all of the band members cut their parts separately), Illusion still feels like an overdetermined mess that somehow manages to consistently deliver the goods. Sadly though, those goods are steeped in an aimless rage that these days reads less like anti-authoritarianism and more like toxic narcissism. This is an album that gets out a "fuck you" in its first two minutes, and devolves from there into a master class on petty beefing: Whether it's "Right Next Door To Hell," "Get In the Ring," "My World" (ugh), "Back Off Bitch" (ugggghh), or any of the other tracks where poor Axl Rose blames all of his problems on everyone else in the world, the constant airing of tiny grievances is far more deadening than the set's length. All of this made Use Your Illusion a deeply cynical yet completely sincere work. Although it's incredibly indulgent and self-centered, it's almost certainly an accurate representation of the band's perception of the world at the time. Its deep currents of misogyny were both casual and aggressive, but also completely unapologetic, which is both alarming and pathetic. Sounds like a terrible album, right? It most definitely is not. Weirdly conceived and recorded? For sure. Problematic? Yup. Highly individual and completely non-reproducible by any other band on Earth? Absolutely. Even now, some 30 years later, it still manages to yield treasures. Tracks that were overlooked in the overwhelming onslaught of the original release are well worth revisiting; the druggy blues-rock of "Bad Obsession, "Locomotive" with its sideways reworking of "Welcome to the Jungle," "The Garden" (which sounds like a leftover from the first Masters of Reality album with an Alice Cooper rap shoved in the bridge), or the Duff McKagan-penned Johnny Thunders tribute "So Fine" all hold up remarkably well. The live shows are revelatory: The Use Your Illusion tour was as extravagant and overblown as the album(s) it was promoting, running for nine legs over 30 months with nearly 200 dates played.  It was truly one of the last of its kind from an on-the-charts rock 'n' roll band, represented here by a warmup theater gig at the Ritz in New York in May, 1991, and an arena show on the UNLV campus as the tour was running at full speed eight months later. Remarkably, both sets exhibit a warm and generous band giving their absolute all to the fans in attendance, turning the somewhat clinical performances of Illusion's album versions into explosive renditions on stage. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Guns N' Roses' debut, Appetite for Destruction was a turning point for hard rock in the late '80s -- it was a dirty, dangerous, and mean record in a time when heavy metal meant nothing but a good time. On the surface, Guns N' Roses may appear to celebrate the same things as their peers -- namely, sex, liquor, drugs, and rock & roll -- but there is a nasty edge to their songs, since Axl Rose doesn't see much fun in the urban sprawl of L.A. and its parade of heavy metal thugs, cheap women, booze, and crime. The music is as nasty as the lyrics, wallowing in a bluesy, metallic hard rock borrowed from Aerosmith, AC/DC, and countless faceless hard rock bands of the early '80s. It's a primal, sleazy sound that adds grit to already grim tales. It also makes Rose's misogyny, fear, and anger hard to dismiss as merely an artistic statement; this is music that sounds lived-in. And that's exactly why Appetite for Destruction is such a powerful record -- not only does Rose have fears, but he also is vulnerable, particularly on the power ballad "Sweet Child O' Mine." He also has a talent for conveying the fears and horrors of the decaying inner city, whether it's on the charging "Welcome to the Jungle," the heroin ode "Mr. Brownstone," or "Paradise City," which simply wants out. But as good as Rose's lyrics and screeching vocals are, they wouldn't be nearly as effective without the twin-guitar interplay of Slash and Izzy Stradlin, who spit out riffs and solos better than any band since the Rolling Stones, and that's what makes Appetite for Destruction the best metal record of the late '80s.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Morgan Wade has not only conquered the sophomore slump; the music and her raspy Virginia twang sound better than ever. "80s Movie" is redolent of the kind of nostalgia Eric Church does so well, referencing cassette tapes and small-town water towers, When Harry Met Sally and Dirty Dancing, and remembering boyfriends with "Tom Cruise hair." And, as with Church, it's as inspired by '80s guitar rock as classic '80s country. But there are plenty of '90s touchstones, too, including the folksy jangle of "Roman Candle" and smoky "Outrun." "Alanis," with its jittering guitar, pays tribute to Alanis Morisette and "You Oughta Know," which came out the year Wade was born. (She performed that song with Morissette and other country singers at the 2023 CMT Awards.) "Alanis, lived out your pain through sweet profanity … Alanis, how did you ever keep your sanity?" Wade sings, in awe of the way Morisette would "scream on the stage and let out the rage 'til the lights go dark." Appropriately, the song ends with Alanis-style harmonica. There's a Sheryl Crow open-mic vibe "Phantom Feelings," a Julia Michaels co-write, with Wade hitting a growl as she gets nostalgic about being "young and … dumb" and "getting drunk at a bar downtown quoting Sylvia Plath." There's also a longing for being 16 and carefree, before knowing "the world was so damn mean," on "Losers Like Me," which rips with juke-joint piano and siren-wail guitar. "We said we wouldn't get jobs and we'd burn our bras/ We wouldn't turn out nothing like our moms/ I didn't/ But I wish I did," Wade reckons. Inevitably, the songs on this record will be picked over for clues to Wade's nebulous relationship with Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star Kyle Richards, a favorite topic of internet gossip. Power ballad "Guns and Roses" should fuel the flames: "Chasing after you feels a little dangerous/ I could give it all, but it never is enough/ Just when I think we're friends/ All of your words turn to lead/ Planting flowers in my head/ Aiming for love, hitting me instead." And "27 Club," a bittersweet-sounding acoustic number, is sure to spur guessing games, as Wade sings about "laying in the bed at the Chateau/ With someone I saw on TV but barely even know" and being "out in LA with a Beverly Hills hottie/ The kind that wants to go and sniff the pills off my body." It builds and the guitars rock out, but Wade, who proudly wears her sobriety, is sometimes left "feeling so sad/ I could reach for the gun/ I could reach for the bottle/ But it's great/ I'm getting paid ... I didn't make the 27 club/ I'm 28." Glad she's here. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Guns N' Roses' Greatest Hits may bear all the hallmarks of a hastily assembled compilation, but it does offer all the band's biggest hits, "Welcome to the Jungle," "Sweet Child O' Mine," "Patience," "Paradise City," "Don't Cry," "You Could Be Mine," "November Rain," and "Live and Let Die" among them. While there are certainly several noteworthy tracks missing -- charting singles like "Nightrain" and "Estranged," and album tracks like "It's So Easy," "Mr. Brownstone," and "Used to Love Her," for instance -- for listeners who want a collection containing the group's biggest hits on one disc, Greatest Hits will serve their needs nicely.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The sixth studio long-player from Netherlands-based symphonic rock outfit Within Temptation picks right up where 2011's generally well-received conceptual outing Unforgiving left off, expanding on the group's penchant for stylistic elasticity while maintaining a foundation of solid songwriting and engaging narrative. The appropriately named Hydra (the multi-headed monster of myth reflects the group's ability to juggle multiple musical genres) includes guest appearances from Killswitch Engage vocalist Howard Jones, rapper Xzibit, ex-Nightwish vocalist Tarja Turunen, and Soul Asylum vocalist Dave Pirner, and features the singles "Paradise (What About Us?)" and "Dangerous."© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

To call OutKast's follow-up to their 2000 masterpiece Stankonia the most eagerly awaited hip-hop album of the new millennium may be hyperbole, but not by much. In its kaleidoscopic, deep-fried amalgam of Dirty South, dirty funk, techno, and psychedelia, Stankonia was fearlessly exploratory and giddy with possibilities. It was hard to imagine where the duo was going to go next, but one possibility that few entertained was that Big Boi and Andre 3000 would split apart, each recording an album on his own and then releasing the pair as the fifth OutKast album, Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, in the fall of 2003. Although both albums have their own distinct character, the effect is kind of like if the Beatles issued The White Album as one LP of Lennon tunes, the other of McCartney songs -- the individual records may be more coherent, but the illusion that the group can do anything is tarnished. By isolating themselves from each other, Big Boi and Andre 3000 diminish the idea of OutKast slightly, since the focus is on the individuals, not the group. Which, of course, is part of the point of releasing solo albums under the group name -- it's to prove that the two can exist under the umbrella of the OutKast aesthetic while standing as individuals. Thing is, while it would have been a wild, bracing listen to hear these 39 songs mixed up, alternating between Boi and Dre cuts, the two albums do prove that the music can be solo in execution but remain OutKast records through and through. Both records are visionary, imaginative listens, providing some of the best music of 2003, regardless of genre. If conventional wisdom, based on their public personas and previous music, held that Big Boi's record, Speakerboxxx, would be the more conventional of the two and Andre 3000's The Love Below the more experimental, that doesn't turn out to be quite true. From the moment Speakerboxxx kicks into gear with "GhettoMusick" and its relentless blend of old-school 808s and breakneck breakbeats, it's clear that Boi is ignoring boundaries, and the rest of his album follows suit. It's grounded firmly within hip-hop, but the beats bend against the grain and the arrangements are overflowing with ideas and thrilling, unpredictable juxtapositions, such as how "Bowtie" swings like big-band jazz filtered through George Clinton, how "The Way You Move" offsets its hard-driving verses with seductive choruses, or how "The Rooster" cheerfully rides a threatening minor-key mariachi groove, salted by slippery horns and loose-limbed wah-wah guitars. It's a hell of a ride, reclaiming the adventurous spirit of the golden age and pushing it into a new era. By contrast, The Love Below isn't so much visionary as it is unapologetically eccentric. And as the cocktail jazz pianos that sparkle through the first few songs indicate, it's not much of a hip-hop album. Instead, Andre 3000 has created the great lost Prince album -- the platter that the Purple One recorded somewhere between Around the World in a Day and Sign 'o' the Times. It's not just that the music and song titles cheekily recall Prince -- "She Lives in My Lap" is a close relation of the B-side "She's Always in My Hair" -- it's that Dre disregards any rules on a quest to create his own interior world, right down to a dialogue with God. The difference between Andre 3000 and Prince is in that dialogue, too: Prince was tortured; Andre is trying to get laid. That cheerfully randy spirit surges through The Love Below, even on the spooky-serious closer, "A Life in the Day of Benjamin Andre," and it gives Andre the freedom to try a little of everything, from mock crooning on "Love Haters" to a breakbeat jazz interpretation of "My Favorite Things" to the strange one-man funk of "Roses" and the incandescent "Hey Ya!," where classic soul and electro-funk coexist happily. So, both records are very different, but the remarkable thing is, they both feel thoroughly like OutKast music. Big Boi and Andre 3000 took off in different directions from the same starting point, yet they wind up sounding unified because they share the same freewheeling aesthetic, where everything is alive and everything is possible within their music. That spirit fuels not just the best hip-hop, but the best pop music, and both Speakerboxxx and The Love Below are among the best hip-hop and best pop music released this decade. Each is a knockout individually, and paired together, their force is undeniable.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo