It's a running joke that every album released by the Rolling Stones is the band's "best since X," where X represents a random release from their extensive back catalog. Unsurprisingly, Hackney Diamonds has already received similar plaudits and comparisons. But the Stones' first full-length of original songs since 2005's A Bigger Bang can't really be compared to anything they've done before—namely because it's the first Stones album recorded (for the most part) without drummer Charlie Watts, who died in 2021. Watts does add his trademark crisp, jazzy swing to a pair of highlights: the strutting "Mess It Up" and swaggering boogie-rocker "Live by the Sword." (On the latter, former bassist Bill Wyman also contributes a grimy low end and Elton John adds freewheeling piano.) Elsewhere on Hackney Diamonds, Watts' hand-picked drumming replacement Steve Jordan anchors the rhythm section with his looser approach—a perfect match for big-sky rockers like the saxophone-augmented, funk-tinted "Get Close."But even with the lineup change, Hackney Diamonds feels like classic Stones—no asterisk needed. The album brims with familiar signifiers: fiery guitar interplay between Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood; an abundance of Jagger-Richards songwriting credits; and Jagger's inimitable vocals, which veer between spitfire sleaze and tender balladeer. Musically, Hackney Diamonds also spans the entire Stones continuum. "Dreamy Skies" is the kind of laid-back country rocker the band excel at writing; the string-swept "Depending on You" occupies a more introspective space; and "Driving Me Too Hard" is 1970s-era honky-tonking. On "Tell Me Straight," Richards even takes a turn on lead vocals. So what's the secret to Hackney Diamonds? Avowed Stones superfan Andrew Watt produced the album, which was an inspired choice: Watt pushes the Stones to play to their strengths and not rely on cliches. Hackney Diamonds' guests are also a welcome presence. Paul McCartney contributes bass to the barnstorming "Bite My Head Off," while the torchy power ballad centerpiece "Sweet Sounds of Heaven" includes keyboards and piano from Stevie Wonder and towering vocals from Lady Gaga. Fittingly, Hackney Diamonds ends with a song that's long featured into the Stones' mythology: a cover of Muddy Waters' "Rollin' Stone" (here called "Rolling Stone Blues"). The Stones' performance is raw and unfiltered, with shuffling harmonica and unpolished Jagger vocals; it sounds more like a low-key jam session than a high-gloss studio work. "Rolling Stone Blues" also gets to the heart of why Hackney Diamonds works so well: On the album, the Stones aren't trying to repeat themselves or recapture any past glories—but they are remembering their roots, and channeling the passion, ambition and musical chemistry that initially propelled them to superstardom. © Annie Zaleski/Qobuz

"It seems I'm miles above the surface of the earth/ I can see across the whole of London and beyond," intones Rotem Wilson over the hypnotic electronic pulsing of "The Harmony Codex," the title track of her husband Steven Wilson's seventh solo album. It's an evocative, widescreen scene that gives the listener a sense of the scale that Wilson is trying to achieve, along with being a moment of meditative pause in a record characterised by stylistic left-turns and surprises. In the past 15 years, since launching a solo career parallel to his three-and-a-half decades fronting Porcupine Tree, Wilson has thematically conceived his albums: 2008's Insurgentes revisited the post-punk sounds of his teenage years; 2021's The Future Bites was shiny synth pop. Here he sounds untethered from any particular concept, resulting in his most eclectic and experimental offering to date. Opener "Inclination" sets out his stall, moving from fidgety, Warp Records-styled electronica (replete with anxious, percussive breaths) to a sudden break ushering in Wilson's aching vocal, echoing that of Talk Talk's Mark Hollis on their landmark 1986 album, The Colour Of Spring. Wilson's proggy past resurfaces in the skittering jazz rhythms of "Impossible Tightrope" and the dreamy, Pink Floyd-like "What Life Brings." But, elsewhere, he seems intent on pushing himself in new directions. If there's a sense of existential unease apparent in the Peter Gabriel-esque "Time Is Running Out" ("You had a panic attack midway through the flight"), there's also emotional balm on offer in "Rock Bottom"—a mutually reassuring duet, with Israeli singer Ninet Tayeb, that comes across like an even more desperate take on Gabriel and Kate Bush's raw and heartfelt 1986 hit "Don't Give Up". The Harmony Codex never stays in one place for long, though. The climax of "Beautiful Scarecrow" shares some of its pummelling, industrial DNA with Massive Attack's Mezzanine album, "Actual Brutal Facts" finds Wilson successfully dabbling in pitch-shifted rapping, and the 9:27 trip that is closer "Staircase" is a multi-movement summation of all that has gone before. Overall, the lasting impression is that after realising the grand design that is The Harmony Codex, Steven Wilson can now go anywhere.  © Tom Doyle/Qobuz

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

When Pink Floyd bassist-turned-solo artist Roger Waters announced plans to re-imagine the band's iconic Dark Side Of The Moon, puzzled looks rightly ensued.  He even said to Variety, "We all thought I was mad but the more we considered it, the more we thought 'isn't that the whole point?'" Waters, who wrote much of Dark Side and is no stranger to controversy, has offered that Redux's relation to the original is, "Not to supersede it or to replace it, but to remember it, and as an adjunct to it, and to progress the work of the original concept of the original record and all those original songs."  Opener "Speak to Me" now features spoken text that is actually the lyrics from "Free Four," which appears on Pink Floyd's 1972 album Obscured By Clouds: "The memories of a man in his old age, are the deeds of a man in his prime/ You shuffle in the gloom of the sick room and talk to yourself as you die/ For life is a short, warm moment and death is a long, cold rest." "On The Run" is prefaced with "Today, I awoke from a dream/ It was a revelation, almost Patmosian, whatever that means/ But that's evidently another story/ It began with some standard bullshit fight with evil/ In this case, an apparently all-powerful hooded and cloaked figure," which was something Waters wrote down after waking up from a dream in July, 2021.  A number of talented musicians join Waters, among them: Gus Seyffert on bass, guitar, backing vocals; Joey Waronker on drums; Jonathan Wilson on guitars and synth.  In the case of the original single "Money," once an indictment of capitalism, Waters slows the pace, adds cello accents and a menacing piano part, and switches into a whispery Tom Waits-Leonard Cohen conspiratorial growl. The new lyrics are about a heavyweight boxing match, the devil, and a Faustian deal. One of rock's enduring masterpieces has now become the backdrop for a spoken word piece where Waters imparts the perspective he's gained since the album's original release in 1973. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

Like the Mona Lisa for the Louvre, Keith Jarrett's Köln Concert is a showcase for ECM. With 4 million copies sold, it is not only the biggest success in the label's history but also the best-selling piano solo album! And many of those who bought this live recording, recorded on January 24, 1975 in the Cologne Opera House, did not yet own a jazz album in their record collection. Yet the world phenomenon had the most unfavourable conditions that evening. The American pianist was exhausted from a long car journey, had back pain and found another cheap grand piano on stage instead of the Bösendorfer he had ordered. "I think Keith played so well precisely because of this mediocre piano," said producer Manfred Eicher later. "Because he couldn't fall in love with the sound of this instrument, he adjusted his playing accordingly in order to make the best out of it in spite of everything." But what remains, beyond the anecdotes and records, of what the 1400 listeners heard that evening? Jarrett was 30 years old at the time and had already had a successful career with 15 records and two formative experiences in the bands of Charles Lloyd and especially Miles Davis. By 1975 he had already developed a very personal style of expression. Although Bill Evans' influence is unmistakable, his improvisations were unique, as this Cologne Concert proves. Lyrical and meditative elements are interwoven. Jarrett emphasizes the permeability of the genres by nourishing his jazz (is it jazz at all?) with elements from classical music, gospel, folk or certain Latin American musical styles. Notes gush out of his piano like a torrent and sing an ode to improvisation. In 1992, he told Der Spiegel that over time the Köln Concert had become a kind of film music. "We must learn to forget music," he added. "Otherwise we will become addicted to the past."

Cat Power—Chan Marshall—wanted to mark the moment in 1966 that "informs everything …  this precipice of time that changed music forever": Bob Dylan's "Royal Albert Hall Concert" (actually played at the Manchester Free Trade Hall), the one when he switched from acoustic to electric midway through—prompting an incensed folk purist to yell out "Judas!" Fifty-six years after that concert, Marshall delivered a sublime song-for-song re-creation of the set, at the actual Royal Albert Hall. "I'm not being Bob … I'm just recreating it, that's all. But not making it mine," she has said. Inevitably, though, the songs do become hers. It's evident right away, from "She Belongs to Me" (and shortly after, "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue"), the influence Dylan has long had on Cat Power's music. But with her husky voice, so like Nico's now and far from Dylan's youthful reediness, revealing traces of her Georgia upbringing ("She don't look baaaaack") and contrasting the clean acoustic guitar and shiny harmonica, she owns it. "Desolation Row" is a twelve-and-a-half minute marvel. The guitar is not blindingly bright like Charlie McCoy's flamenco flavor, but that works well with Marshall's more serious/less jaunty air here. Without aping Dylan, she hits his inflections, putting exuberant emphasis on the ends of lines ("And the good Samaritan! He's dressing!"). Her "Visions of Johanna" underscores the prettiness of the melody, while the way she sings the name "Jo-hanna" make it feel so much more exotic than it is. She gets playful with the familiar phrasing on the chorus of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and sings "Just Like a Woman" beautifully, offering a softer, less angular version of Dylan's classic. At 50, she was twice the age of Dylan when he recorded the song for Blonde on Blonde, and you can hear—feel—the extra tread on her heart. When electrified "Tell Me Momma" kicks in like the Wizard of Oz Technicolor moment, it's as thrilling as it's supposed to be, the first word of the titular line bitingly crisp each time. "I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)" plays up the soulful grooviness that always feels a little buried on Dylan's live recording, while "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down" expertly captures his wild-eyed edginess. Marshall's "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" is more elegant, even with its raw edges, than Dylan's young-man machismo. She does not recreate things down to the between-song patter but there is a moment, just before "Ballad of a Thin Man" (so slinky, so powerful), when someone yells out "Judas!"—and Marshall, serenely, responds, "Jesus." "I wasn't expecting the audience to recreate their part of the original show as well, but then I wanted to set the record straight—in a way, Dylan is a deity to all of us who write songs," she has said. And, as it did in 1966, closer "Like a Rolling Stone" sounds like liberation; maybe even like Marshall knows some part of this is hers now. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

When Daft Punk announced they were releasing a new album eight years after 2005's Human After All, fans were starved for new material. The Tron: Legacy score indulged the duo's sci-fi fantasies but didn't offer much in the way of catchy songs, so when Random Access Memories' extensive publicity campaign featured tantalizing clips of a new single, "Get Lucky," their fan base exploded. But when the album finally arrived, that hugely hyped single was buried far down its track list, emphasizing that most of these songs are very much not like "Get Lucky" -- or a lot of the pair's previous music, at least on the surface. The album isn't much like 2010s EDM, either. Instead, Daft Punk separate themselves from most contemporary electronic music and how it's made, enlisting some of their biggest influences to help them get the sounds they needed without samples. On Homework's "Teachers," they reverently name-checked a massive list of musicians and producers. Here, they place themselves on equal footing with disco masterminds Nile Rodgers and Giorgio Moroder, who shares his thoughts on making music with wild guitar and synth solos trailing behind him on one of RAM's definitive moments, "Giorgio by Moroder." Elsewhere, Daft Punk celebrate their close relationship with indie music on the lovely "Doin' It Right," which makes the most of Panda Bear's boyish vocals, and on the Julian Casablancas cameo "Instant Crush," which is only slightly more electronic than the Strokes' Comedown Machine. And of course, Pharrell Williams is the avatar of their dancefloor mastery on the sweaty disco of "Lose Yourself to Dance" and "Get Lucky," which is so suave that it couldn't help but be an instant classic, albeit a somewhat nostalgic one. "Memories" is the album's keyword: As Daft Punk celebrate the late '70s and early '80s with deluxe homages like "Give Life Back to Music" -- one of several terrific showcases for Rodgers -- and the spot-on soft rock of the Todd Edwards collaboration "Fragments of Time," they tap into the wonder and excitement in that era's music. A particularly brilliant example is "Touch," where singer/songwriter Paul Williams conflates his work in Phantom of the Paradise and The Muppet Movie in the song's mystique, charm, and unabashed emotions. Daft Punk have never shied away from "uncool" influences or sentimentality, and both are on full display throughout Random Access Memories. It's the kind of grand, album rock statement that listeners of the '70s and '80s would have spent weeks or months dissecting and absorbing -- the ambition of Steely Dan, Alan Parsons, and Pink Floyd are as vital to the album as any of the duo's collaborators. For the casual Daft Punk fan, this album might be harder to love than "Get Lucky" hinted; it might be too nostalgic, too overblown, a shirking of the group's duty to rescue dance music from the Young Turks who cropped up in their absence. But Random Access Memories is also Daft Punk's most personal work, and richly rewarding for listeners willing to spend time with it.© Heather Phares /TiVo

Steely Dan hadn't been a real working band since Pretzel Logic, but with Aja, Walter Becker and Donald Fagen's obsession with sonic detail and fascination with composition reached new heights. A coolly textured and immaculately produced collection of sophisticated jazz-rock, Aja has none of the overt cynicism or self-consciously challenging music that distinguished previous Steely Dan records. Instead, it's a measured and textured album, filled with subtle melodies and accomplished, jazzy solos that blend easily into the lush instrumental backdrops. But Aja isn't just about texture, since Becker and Fagen's songs are their most complex and musically rich set of songs -- even the simplest song, the sunny pop of "Peg," has layers of jazzy vocal harmonies. In fact, Steely Dan ignores rock on Aja, preferring to fuse cool jazz, blues, and pop together in a seamless, seductive fashion. It's complex music delivered with ease, and although the duo's preoccupation with clean sound and self-consciously sophisticated arrangements would eventually lead to a dead end, Aja is a shining example of jazz-rock at its finest. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Supertramp came into their own on their third album, 1974's Crime of the Century, as their lineup gelled but, more importantly, so did their sound. The group still betrayed a heavy Pink Floyd influence, particularly in its expansive art rock arrangements graced by saxophones, but Supertramp isn't nearly as spooky as Floyd -- they're snarky collegiate elitists, an art rock variation on Steely Dan or perhaps a less difficult 10cc, filled with cutting jokes and allusions, best heard on "Bloody Well Right." This streak would later flourish on Breakfast in America, but it's present enough to give them their own character. Also present is a slight sentimental streak and a heavy fondness for pop, heard on "Dreamer," a soaring piece of art pop that became their first big hit. That and "Bloody Well Right" are the concise pop moments on the record; the rest of Crime of the Century is atmospheric like Dark Side of the Moon, but with a lighter feel and a Beatles bent. At times the album floats off into its own world, with an effect more tedious than hypnotic, but it's still a huge leap forward for the group and their most consistent album outside of that 1979 masterwork, Breakfast in America.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

All tracks are in 24/88.2 excepted the track 4 from disc 2 "Infiniting Repeating (2013 demo)" which is in 24/44.1.Two years after Daft Punk's split in February 2021, comes a reissue of their decade-old final album Random Access Memories in a deluxe version with a nine-track disc bringing together studio outtakes, demos and unreleased tracks. Included are "Horizon" (a ballad released only in the Japanese version at the time), two minutes of vocoder testing by Pharrell Williams for "Lose Yourself to Dance," and two unreleased tracks: "Prime (2012 Unfinished)," which didn't make it to original release, and the soulful "Infinity Repeating (2013 Demo)" featuring Julian Casablancas and The Voidz. (Casablancas would end up on RAM with "Instant Crush.") There's also the delightful "The Writing of Fragments of Time," an eight-minute behind-the-scenes track which puts us in the studio with Daft Punk and producer Todd Edwards as they discuss this "beach road" song, and create it all at once. Thirty-five minutes of bonus material ends with "Touch (2021 Epilogue)," the track composed with their idol Paul Williams, and chosen as the soundtrack for the band's farewell video in 2021. This is a deluxe version that is well worth chasing after. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

The classic Marley album, the one that any fair-weather reggae fan owns, Legend contains 14 of his greatest songs, running the gamut from "I Shot the Sheriff" to the meditative "Redemption Song" and the irrepressible "Three Little Birds." Some may argue that the compilation shortchanges his groundbreaking early ska work or his status as a political commentator, but this isn't meant to be definitive, it's meant to be an introduction, sampling the very best of his work. And it does that remarkably well, offering all of his genre-defying greats and an illustration of his excellence, warmth, and humanity. In a way, it is perfect since it gives a doubter or casual fan anything they could want. Let's face it, the beauty and simplicity of Marley's music was as important as his message, and that's captured particularly well here.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Few are the career artists who can create music over the long haul that continually sounds fresh and contemporary without seeming faddish or desperate. Across eight solo studio albums, Norah Jones has effortlessly embraced the here-and-now, followed her muse and allowed her assured sense of self to carry her forward without any embarrassing missteps. Jones wanted to explore darkness on 2020's Pick Me Off the Floor, her most recent studio album, so she flipped the switch. Two years later she swerved to record Playing Along, an oft-buoyant album of duets with artists including Mavis Staples, Valerie June and Jeff Tweedy. It succeeded on its own terms. For Visions, Jones wanted to write with a single collaborator, Leon Michels, to make a mid-tempo record with session players and solo artists who've recorded with Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, Brazilian Girls, Joni Mitchell and others. So she invited him into the studio, shut the door and made Visions.Billed by Jones' label as a more carefree, upbeat record, Visions sets a mood across twelve soulful, wood-paneled originals. Despite mentions of dance or dancing in a few songs, it's often bliss driven by solitude that's suggested. The happy-go-lucky "On My Way" floats across its measures, a joyful ode to moving forward not with a partner or lover, but alone, where the notion that "no one cares what you have to say" lives in the same space as "in the dark you can dance and sway." That many of the ideas for Visions, as Jones has said, "came in the middle of the night or in that moment right before sleep," it makes sense that she's focused on solitude, and that she's embracing it."Everyday we do God's little dance," she sings on "Staring at the Wall," an uptempo groover with a twangy, Sun Records-suggestive guitar line and a piano-propelled counter melody that, combined with sturdy snare-drum snaps, could power a Saturday night dance floor at a dive bar. "Running" gets energy from a piano melody, a reverbed drum pattern and a layered chorus of Jones' voice adding responses. "Swept Up in the Night" is a ballad of longing set after midnight. Lost in a dream, Jones can't shake her memories of a certain someone: "I find you a thousand times/ Underneath the stones in my mind." These are sturdy songs, the kind that not only linger in the psyche, but are so well crafted as to be indestructible. © Randall Roberts/Qobuz

In the 20th century’s final decade, so-called alternative rock—an emphatic repudiation of arena rock and hair bands—was changing the definition of rock music forever. But did anyone in 1991 ever dream that Nirvana's Nevermind, which made alt-rock mainstream and immortalized the word "grunge" would become the last great rock record? With the music world too fragmented today to ever empower a Nevermind or even a Thriller, Nirvana's opus remains, along with Metallica's "Black Album" released the same year (and technically metal), the last rock album to sell somewhere over 20 million copies while becoming a widely beloved and influential landmark. But does all that mean a celebration with another multi-volume boxed set is needed every ten years? For Kurt Cobain fans the answer is obviously, yes please! And with the 30th anniversary set, they won't be disappointed; along with the remastered original album, four live shows have been officially released. Although they have a similar energy and nearly identical set lists that focus on Nevermind, the live shows, some of which have been famously bootlegged, do differ in sound quality. While the 1991 Amsterdam show has good depth and a natural resonance, a show from the same year in Del Mar, California has some speed issues, and while better than the original bootleg, is still dynamically limited. The 1992 Melbourne, Australia show has the best sound quality but a Tokyo show from the same year is clearly the worst sounding, obviously an audience tape that despite sonic restoration work has the familiar limited, recorded-in-a-jar fidelity of most cassette bootlegs. For fans of the original record—and also improved fidelity—this version of Nevermind, newly remastered from the original half-inch stereo analog tapes by Randy Merrill at Sterling Sound, can now be heard in high resolution 192kHz 24-bit sound. While the original Nevermind, produced by Butch Vig, recorded by Vig, Craig Doubet and Jeff Sheehan, and mixed by Andy Wallace was never a sonic disaster, the new high resolution is a noticeable improvement, though maybe one that Kurt Cobain wouldn't appreciate. Uncomfortable with the album's success and his subsequent celebrity, Cobain, who famously called the music on Nevermind, "the Knack and the Bay City Rollers getting molested by Black Flag and Black Sabbath," routinely criticized the original album as overproduced and not punk rock enough. The album's sonics have also been controversial with listeners, some of whom agreed with Cobain that compared to the band's 1989 debut Bleach, it was too accessible, too punchy, and ruined by what they perceived to be unnecessary gloss. Diametrically opposed though were the alt-rock haters for whom Nevermind was too sludgy, too loud, and disgustingly ill-defined. The crisper sound of the new high resolution transfer accentuates the clean pop production Wallace gave to the original album, and which despite Cobain's misgivings, played no small part in the album's massive success. Clarity, even when played loud, is where the high resolution is most obvious. And then there are the details. The swirling, side-to-side guitar part in "Come as You Are," for example, has never been clearer or more assertive. "Breed," the album's hit that never was, has been cleaned up in ways that Cobain would surely have thought were too pretty. His guitar part, which was repeatedly panned left and right, is more forward and defined. Dave Grohl's cymbals on the opening of "Lithium" have the edge of a jazz record. And in "On a Plain" Cobain's doubled vocals and the overdubs where he sings harmony with himself have never been clearer. Overall, the high resolution Nevermind has a lighter tone, an airier presence. Does a cleaner sounding Nevermind betray the band's punk rock intentions or subvert their grunge cred? A new Nevermind controversy is born. © Robert Baird/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

Jonathan Demme's creative direction and this group's brilliance make for an unusual live performance event. Starting solo with David Byrne, each song brings another band member to the stage until the full band kicks in. With Bernie Worrell on keyboards and a strong hit-filled set from the Speaking in Tongues tour, this is definitely worth checking out.© Scott Bultman /TiVo