Since 2019, Taylor Swift has been leading her fans and her music into a space-time rift worthy of a science-fiction block-buster: when she releases a new album, there's a 50/50 chance that it's an old one. What is the meaning of this devilry? Well, it’s mainly due to complicated and conflicting contracts, copyrights and (very) large sums of money, that have  all led Taylor Swift to decide to re-record and re-release her first six albums with some bonus, previously unreleased period tracks. The latest replicant is the album Speak Now, originally released in 2010. This third album of Taylor Swift’s was a major milestone in her discography: aged just twenty, she wrote all the songs for the first time, whilst moving away from the country aesthetic that had made her famous. It was a very personal album, with a lot of diary-style love stories from the point of view of a young woman barely out of her teens. Thirteen years on, it’s clear why Taylor Swift would sing these songs again (to get her hands back on the revenue generated by her old albums). But how? With a fuller voice, and by tidying up some of the lyrics that might be found off-putting today. Hardcore fans and commentators may cry revisionism, but the rest of us will certainly be delighted to find this early album almost unchanged © Stéphane Deschamps

Queen Kylie Minogue's 2020 album, the bluntly titled Disco, was brilliantly lit by the glow of the disco ball. This time around, she's bringing an electro-pop strobe to the dance floor —and, at 55, proving age really doesn't mean anything. While Madonna has been spinning fruitlessly in search of reinvention, Minogue just keeps nailing trends and staying refreshingly relevant. "Padam Padam"—the onomatopoeic sound of a heartbeat—lives in a metallic echo chamber, carefully curated by producer Lostboy and decorated with an infectious snake-charmer chorus. "I'll be in your head all weekend," Minogue sings prophetically. "Tension" goes deep with '90s house keyboards and beats, and a robotic effect for Mingoue's sexy come-on, directing exactly how she wants to be handled by a lover—"Oh, my god/ Touch me right there/ Almost there/ touch me right there"—while also also making it clear she is completely in control: "I'm a star babe-babe-babe/ Do this all day-day-day/ Cool like sorbet-bet-bet." She works all her vocal tricks on tropical-vibe "One More Time": cooing, showing powerhouse strength, effortlessly hitting the high notes, sassing and whooping and sweating it. (Even though it's not a direct tribute, you can't help but be reminded by Daft Punk's monster hit of the same name.) "Green Light" is cool-breeze cafe pop with smooooooth jazz sax. "Things We Do for Love" delivers an energetic burst of euphoria with a shiny soap bubble of a bridge. "You Still Get Me High" fronts like a prom ballad before erupting into an emo-beat thriller, with wailing sax upping the adrenaline; it's like Kylie x Bleachers, and it's fun. "Hands" finds Minogue casually rapping and delighting in '90s girl-group R&B. "Vegas High" captures that city's cut-loose party vibe and is obviously a tie-in for her residency at the Venetian, which begins November 2023. But she makes up for that bit of cheesiness with "10 Out of 10,"  a goofy, giddy lark of a collaboration with Dutch DJ Oliver Heldens that delivers a Pet Shop Boys-style droll chorus: "Body, 10/ Touch, 10 / Energy, 10." Kylie: 10.  © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Taylor Swift left her longtime home of Big Machine in 2018, setting up shop at Republic Records. Usually, such changes in label are only of interest to trainspotters, but once Swift departed Big Machine, the label was acquired by a group owned by Scooter Braun, a nemesis of Taylor's. The singer attempted to regain rights to her original recordings to no avail, leaving her with one option: she could re-record her records, thereby undercutting the value of her catalog in terms of syncs, placements, and licensing. Swift carried through on the promise in April 2021, releasing Fearless (Taylor's Version), a brand-new version of her 2008 breakthrough. Swift recorded all 19 songs from the 2009 Platinum Edition of Fearless, adding a new version of "Today Was a Fairytale" from the Valentine's Day soundtrack, then six additional songs ("From The Vault") -- songs that were written around the time of Fearless but not released. These tracks are of greatest interest, as they certainly have a younger, dewy-eyed perspective but were recorded with Aaron Dessner and Jack Antonoff, the producers of Swift's mature work. The blend of youth and experience is appealing, and it can also be heard in the newer renditions of the Fearless material. Swift largely re-creates the arrangements and feel of the original 2008 album, yet her voice and phrasing has aged, giving the music a hint of bittersweet gravity. That said, it's only a hint; Fearless (Taylor's Version) serves the purpose of offering new versions that could be substituted for the originals for licensing purposes. It's to Swift's credit that the album is an absorbing (if long) listen anyway.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

A half-century into their career, synth-pop provocateurs Ron and Russell Mael—now 77 and 74 years old—are as funny, arch and deservingly influential as they've always been. "The Girl Is Crying in Her Latte," the title track of their twenty-fifth album is lush and robust; as Cate Blanchett, who stars in the accompanying video, has said: "You know, 'the girl is crying in her latte'—it's so deep and shallow, simultaneously." "Is it due to the rain/ Or is she in some pain ... The girl is crying in her latte, yeah," Russell sings. "Now she's leaving the place/ Someone's taking her place/ Orders, then takes a seat/ Looks like it's a repeat ... So many people are crying in their latte." And that's the sort of complementary push-pull the brothers have always trafficked in: highbrow-lowbrow, humorous-sad, pop-niche. They're also genius observers of the world and fantastic imagineers of some world that maybe excited decades ago (or maybe just in their heads). "It's Sunny Today" catalogs all the things you could do on a gorgeous day—to the tune of Christmastime luxury-car commercial strings. Gleeful in the way of  "I Predict" off 1982's Angst in my Pants, "Nothing Is As Good As They Say It Is" applies New Wave pop to the narrative of an already world-weary newborn ready to return to the womb ("Were I born in the south of France/ I would feel less resistant to/ Somewhere that just deserves adieu," go the lyrics, like the caption to a New Yorker cartoon). Set to percolating synth, "Veronica Lake"—the latest in a long line of Sparks' cinematic references—is a garishly funny tale of women on WWII assembly lines whose Hollywood dreams get in the way of Rosie the Riveter reality: "And they all want to be Veronica Lake/ But that peek-a-boo hair, it's a big mistake/ As the foreman has to yell, 'put on the brake'/ Yet another girl caught/ Veronica Lake." "Not That Well-Defined" swirls with the rich darkness of balalaika, "We Go Dancing" is manic ballet theater, and "Take Me for a Ride" is Hitchcockian unhinged. Chanty "The Mona Lisa's Packing, Leaving Late Tonight" churns and sways as if on the high seas. And "When You Leave" is deliciously, wormishly defiant. "They'll be breaking out the good music when you leave/ The Stylistics ... the Delfonics ... There'll be red wine on all the carpets when you leave ... They can't wait," Russell sings, before adopting a lighter voice in response:  "I'm going to stay/ Just to annoy them." It all ends with the troubadour surprise of "It Doesn't Have to Be That Way" and melodramatic "Gee, That Was Fun"—mashing up "My Way" and "Bohemian Rhapsody"-style pomp for what could be read as a grateful career retrospective. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Released to complement Kylie Minogue's 2023 album, Tension, Extension: The Extended Mixes features tracks from the acclaimed record in extended versions. The album appeared digitally as well as physically on double neon-pink, and green-splatter vinyl. Included is a longer version of the viral hit "Padam Padam."© Rich Wilson /TiVo

Remarkably, at 89 years young, pianist Ahmad Jamal is still making fine records. Imbued with sage experience and erudite taste, Jamal has an unerring sense of what still moves him and what he still wants to express. Though nowhere near the late career masterpiece of his 2016 release Marseille these mostly solo outtakes—recorded during that album's sessions—are very personal snapshots of the moment rather than any artistic statement. Ballades is Jamal noodling; his still fantastic touch on the keys and elastic blending of melody and rhythm make it worth a listen. The pianist, who first gained fame in 1958 with the release of At the Pershing, opens this set with a spacious solo take of Marseille's title track. A wry, relaxed version of "Poinciana" unfolds from his long connection to this signature tune. He's joined by longtime bassist James Cammack on three tracks, including an effective mashup between Rodgers & Hart's "Spring is Here" and Bill Evans' "Your Story." For those seeking undeniable evidence of Jamal's still vital genius there's the spontaneously composed and recorded "Because I Love You." The shimmering version of the Johnny Mercer/Johnny Mandel song, "Emily" which closes the album is a classic example of the unbridled imagination and formidable instrumental chops that Jamal can bring when playing by, and one suspects, for himself. © Robert Baird / Qobuz

In the notes to his 2018 release Cinema, violinist Renaud Capuçon spoke of "reservations" about recording film music as a classical musician. This time around, there are no such reservations, perhaps because the previous release was quite successful. There are several differences between the two albums that may work to the advantage of this 2024 release; at the very least, Capuçon is not repeating himself. One is that the violinist focuses exclusively on French music this time around; even the several extracts from various English-language films included, such as Love Story and Lawrence of Arabia, have French composers, and the album reflects on the strength of the French strain in Anglo-American film music. Another departure is that Capuçon has replaced the Brussels Philharmonic from the 2018 album with the smaller historical-instrument group Les Siècles. They don't seem to be using anything other than modern instruments, but the performances of the arrangements by Cyrille Lehn are able to sharpen the contrast between the "voices" of Capuçon and the orchestra under the baton of Duncan Ward. Beyond these differences, the album, like its predecessor, will expose non-French audiences to some excellent film tunes that they may not have known. Consider the somber Concerto de l'Adieu from the epic film Dien Bien Phu, a sort of docudrama about the 1954 battle that drove the French out of Vietnam. The Decca label contributes fine studio sound from the ONDIF studio in Alfortville to this strong crossover release from the increasingly popular Capuçon.© James Manheim /TiVo

The biggest selling album of Barbra Streisand's career is also one of her least characteristic. The album was written and produced by Barry Gibb in association with his brothers and the producers of the Bee Gees, and in essence it sounds like a post-Saturday Night Fever Bee Gees album with vocals by Streisand. Gibb adapted his usual style somewhat, especially in slowing the tempos and leaving more room for the vocal, but his melodic style and the backup vocals, even when they are not sung by the Bee Gees, are typical of them. Still, the record was more hybrid than compromise, and the chart-topping single "Woman in Love" has a sinuous feel that is both right for Streisand and new for her. Other hits were the title song and "What Kind of Fool," both duets with Gibb. (The song "Guilty" won a Grammy Award for Best Pop Vocal by Duo or Group.)© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

Stevie Wonder broke a three-year silence, one that followed a series of six classic albums released within six years, with this double album, the score/soundtrack to a little-seen environmental documentary directed by Wild Bunch co-screenwriter Walon Green. From the release of Songs in the Key of Life through the release of Plants, Wonder had been active, actually, but only as a collaborator, working with Ramsey Lewis, the Pointer Sisters, Minnie Riperton, Syreeta, Ronnie Foster, and Michael Jackson. Even so, three years was a considerable lag between albums. Anticipation was so high that this release peaked at number four on the Billboard 200 and R&B album charts. It quickly slipped to footnote status; when Wonder’s 1972-1980 albums were reissued in 2000, it was left out of the program. Plants is a sprawling, fascinating album. Though it is dominated by synthesizer-heavy instrumental pieces with evocative titles, there is a handful of full-blown songs. The gorgeous, mostly acoustic ballad “Send One Your Love” was a Top Ten R&B single, while the joyous “Outside My Window” registered in the Top 60. Beyond that, there’s the deep classic “Come Back as a Flower,” a gently lapping, piano-led ballad featuring Syreeta on vocals. Otherwise, there are playfully oddball tracks like “Venus’ Flytrap and the Bug,” where Wonder chirps “Please don’t eat me!” through robotizing effects, and “A Seed’s a Star,” which incorporates crowd noise, a robotized monologue, and a shrieking Tata Vega over a funkier and faster version of Yellow Magic Orchestra. The album is not for everyone, but it suited its purpose and allowed its maker an amount of creative wiggle room that few major-label artists experience. © Andy Kellman /TiVo

That’s a hell of a list. With such famous friends, Sheryl Crow has turned Threads into an incredibly impressive collaborative album. The 5-star casting is wonderfully eclectic. From Keith Richards from the Rolling Stones to Public Enemy’s Chuck D., Willie Nelson, St. Vincent, Sting, Emmylou Harris, Lucius, Mavis Staples, Stevie Nicks, James Taylor, Jason Isbell and even her ex, Eric Clapton, the American singer crosses over stylistic and generational boundaries, highlighting her own colourful musical identity. Over the course of her ten previous albums, Sheryl Crow has slalomed between rock’n’roll, pop, country, blues and soul, never settling down in one genre. Such is the case again on Threads, even if the general atmosphere remains rooted in a rather classical rock’n’roll. When she topped the charts in the early 90s, this classicism already stood out next to her contemporaries such as Nirvana, Beck and The Smashing Pumpkins... Crow composed the bulk of the songs on this record, as well as adding some exceptionally tasty covers to the mix (George Harrison’s Beware of Darkness, Bob Dylan’s Everything is Broken, The Worst by the Rolling Stones, Kris Kristofferson’s Border Lord). Her prose on this record is more introspective than ever, taking on an almost confessional tone. Perhaps something to do with her recent shocking statement: Threads will be her last record! While we wait to find out if she will ever reconsider, Sheryl Crow signs her densest work at the age of 57. © Max Dembo/Qobuz

Upon first release, the Velvet Underground's self-titled third album must have surprised their fans nearly as much as their first two albums shocked the few mainstream music fans who heard them. After testing the limits of how musically and thematically challenging rock could be on Velvet Underground & Nico and White Light/White Heat, this 1969 release sounded spare, quiet, and contemplative, as if the previous albums documented some manic, speed-fueled party and this was the subdued morning after. (The album's relative calm has often been attributed to the departure of the band's most committed avant-gardist, John Cale, in the fall of 1968; the arrival of new bassist Doug Yule; and the theft of the band's amplifiers shortly before they began recording.) But Lou Reed's lyrical exploration of the demimonde is as keen here as on any album he ever made, while displaying a warmth and compassion he sometimes denied his characters. "Candy Says," "Pale Blue Eyes," and "I'm Set Free" may be more muted in approach than what the band had done in the past, but "What Goes On" and "Beginning to See the Light" made it clear the VU still loved rock & roll, and "The Murder Mystery" (which mixes and matches four separate poetic narratives) is as brave and uncompromising as anything on White Light/White Heat. This album sounds less like the Velvet Underground than any of their studio albums, but it's as personal, honest, and moving as anything Lou Reed ever committed to tape.© Mark Deming /TiVo

The 16-year stint between Since I Left You, the Avalanches' masterful and mind-blowing debut album, and their sophomore release Wildflower is likely to always be something of an inescapable plotline in the Australian group's career story. However, it should be noted that the mere four years that have elapsed between Wildlflower and We Will Always Love You, the group's third album, are both eminently reasonable by 21st century release standards and completely remarkable given the conceptual richness and production complexity at play here. (And that's leaving out the fact that principal member Robbie Chater had a stint in rehab during that time.) We Will Always Love You is an album that is absolutely full to bursting—with 25 tracks (a handful are sub-30-second interludes), more than 20 guest vocalists, and, yes, scores of richly layered samples, the sheer act of composing, recording, and compiling it could forgivably have taken much longer. However, in the case of WWALY, the group benefited from a clear-eyed concept inspired by Ann Druyan (whose face is on the cover). Druyan’s scientific and creative endeavors, her relationship with Carl Sagan, and how those things intersected most notably with her work on NASA's Golden Record project, actual gold-plated LPs sent into space aboard the Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 spacecrafts. The Avalanches have put together their own sort of cosmic mixtape, touching on a wide variety of styles and sounds. Guests range from Johnny Marr, Neneh Cherry, and Vashti Bunyan to Leon Bridges and Denzel Curry; sample sources include Steve Reich, Pat Metheny, Carlinhos Brown and Druyan herself. In keeping with its celestial theme, this is a remarkably adventurous and slightly diaphanous-sounding album, with cuts like the wispy and slightly psychedelic "Gold Sky" (featuring Kurt Vile and Wayne Coyne), the spooky and transcendent "Music is the Light" (with Cornelius and Kelly Moran) and the somewhat on-the-nose "Interstellar Love" (with Leon Bridges) standing as thematic tentpoles. Meanwhile, the more straightforward (and accessible) cuts like the disco groovy "Music Makes Me High," the bouncy and retro "We Go On," and pop/rock treading "Running Red Lights" (which manages to feature a Rivers Cuomo vocal and a David Berman lyric) provide plenty of reminders of terrestrial joy. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Jethro Tull was very much a blues band on their debut album, vaguely reminiscent of the Graham Bond Organization only more cohesive, and with greater commercial sense. The revelations about the group's roots on This Was -- which was recorded during the summer of 1968 -- can be astonishing, even 30 years after the fact. Original lead guitarist Mick Abrahams contributed to the songwriting and the singing, and his presence as a serious bluesman is felt throughout, often for the better: "Some Day the Sun Won't Shine for You," an Ian Anderson original that could just as easily be credited to Big Bill Broonzy or Robert Johnson; "Cat's Squirrel," Abrahams' big showcase, where he ventures into Eric Clapton territory; and "It's Breaking Me Up," which also features some pretty hot guitar from Abrahams. Roland Kirk's "Serenade to a Cuckoo" (the first song Anderson learned to play on flute), their jazziest track ever, is one of the best parts of the album. The drum solo on "Dharma for One" now seems like a mistake, but is understandable in the context of the time in which it was done. The one number here that everybody knows, "A Song for Jeffrey," almost pales amid these surroundings, but at the time it was a superb example of commercial psychedelic blues. This would be the last album of its kind by the group, as Abrahams' departure and the lure of more fertile inspiration tugged them toward English folk music. Curiously, the audio mix here is better than that on their second album, with a much stronger, harder group sound overall. In late 2001, This Was was reissued in a remastered edition with much crisper sound and three bonus tracks. The jazzy improvisation "One for John Gee" (a reference to the manager of the Marquee Club), the folky "Love Story" (which marked the end of Mick Abrahams' tenure with the group), and the novelty piece "Christmas Song" have all been heard before but, more to the point, they're worth hearing again, especially in the fidelity they have here.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

The Who by Numbers functions as Pete Townshend's confessional singer/songwriter album, as he chronicles his problems with alcohol ("However Much I Booze"), women ("Dreaming From the Waist" and "They Are All in Love"), and life in general. However, his introspective musings are rendered ineffective by Roger Daltrey's bluster and the cloying, lightweight filler of "Squeeze Box." In addition, Townshend's songs tend to be underdeveloped, relying on verbosity instead of melodicism, with only the simple power of "Slip Kid," the grace of "Blue Red and Grey," and John Entwistle's heavy rocker "Success Story" making much of an impact.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

This is the peak of George Benson's courtship of the mass market -- a superbly crafted and performed pop album with a large supporting cast -- and wouldn't you know that Quincy Jones, the master catalyst, is the producer. Q's regular team, including the prolific songwriter Rod Temperton and the brilliant engineer Bruce Swedien, is in control, and Benson's voice, caught beautifully in the rich, floating sound, had never before been put to such versatile use. On "Moody's Mood," Benson really exercises his vocalese chops and proves that he is technically as fluid as just about any jazz vocalist, and he become a credible rival to Al Jarreau on the joyous title track. Benson's guitar now plays a subsidiary role -- only two of the ten tracks are instrumentals -- but Q has him play terrific fills behind the vocals and in the gaps, and the engineering gives his tone a variety of striking, new, full-sounding timbres. The instrumentals themselves are marvelous: "Off Broadway" is driving and danceable, and Ivan Lins' "Dinorah, Dinorah" grows increasingly seductive with each play. Benson should have worked with Jones from this point on, but this would be their only album together.© Richard S. Ginell /TiVo

It may have taken the Notorious B.I.G. a few years to follow up his milestone debut, Ready to Die (1994), with another album, but when he did return with Life After Death in 1997, he did so in a huge way. The ambitious album, intended as somewhat of a sequel to Ready to Die, picking up where its predecessor left off, sprawled across the span of two discs, each filled with music, 24 songs in all. You'd expect any album this sprawling to include some lackluster filler. That's not really the case with Life After Death, however. Like 2Pac's All Eyez on Me from a year before, an obvious influence, Biggie's album made extensive use of various producers -- DJ Premier, Easy Mo Bee, Clark Kent, RZA, and more of New York's finest -- resulting in a diverse, eclectic array of songs. Plus, Biggie similarly brought in various guest rappers -- Jay-Z, Lil' Kim, Bone Thugs, Too $hort, L.O.X., Mase -- a few vocalists -- R. Kelly, Angela Winbush, 112 -- and, of course, Puff Daddy, who is much more omnipresent here than on Ready to Die, where he mostly remained on the sidelines. It's perhaps Puffy himself to thank for this album's biggest hits: "Mo Money Mo Problems," "Hypnotize," "Sky's the Limit," three songs that definitely owe much to his pop touch. There's still plenty of the gangsta tales on Life After Death that won Biggie so much admiration on the streets, but it's the pop-laced songs that stand out as highlights. In hindsight, Biggie couldn't have ended his career with a more fitting album than Life After Death. Over the course of only two albums, he achieved every success imaginable, perhaps none greater than this unabashedly over-reaching success. Ready to Die is a milestone album, for sure, but it's nowhere near as extravagant or epic as Life After Death.© Jason Birchmeier /TiVo

With a few lineup changes at the start, and a couple hiatuses since, the Feelies have been together for over 45 years now. The band upended traditional rock 'n' roll cliches and structure to arrive at their own beautiful jingle-jangle mourning, propelled by a submerged and insistent force—oh, let's just call it Jersey motorik. Their music is characterized by strict attention to volume, repetition, and the implementation of subtle changes in tempo and dynamics. Fans of the band have longed for a full-length live album for years; with their Springsteen-length sets and seemingly endless bursts of energy, the Feelies are among the greatest live bands in the world, after all. But the group was too perfectionist to ever allow such a thing to happen with their own songs. Here's a great solution, then: Some Kinda Love, a sprawling set of 18 Velvet Underground songs, recorded at Jersey City's White Eagle Hall in 2018.We all know the adage that, while it didn't sell too well upon release, every kid who bought the Velvet Underground's first album later went and started a band. And from their start in the late 1970s in a Haledon, New Jersey garage, the Feelies showed themselves to be a particularly smart, suburban variant of the Reedophile. They were of the punk era, and absolutely informed by it, especially in their first recordings. But they did so without making too much of a fuss at the hairdresser. With their buttoned-up intensity, emphasis on those quiet-loud shifts, ironic lyrics, and the sort of harmonic guitar solos one could sing along to note-for-note, the Feelies were a clear template for what became known in the 1980s as indie-rock, and were a huge influence on a swath of acts who came later, from REM to Sonic Youth, and Yo La Tengo to Galaxie 500.This recording is such a treat. The album starts with "Sunday Morning," the first song on VU's first album, then closes out with "Oh! Sweet Nuthin'," the last song on their final studio album, Loaded. Such attention to detail shows you that you are about to get taken to school, so sit down, shut up, and listen loud. Different band members take charge on lead vocals depending on the song, which is swell and is a nod to their extended family of bands the Trypes, Yung Wu, and Speed the Plough. Glenn Mercer's vocals at times channel the exact timbre of mid-to-late period Reed (especially on "New Age") that it feels like a seance. The Feelies know these songs so well, and they simply appropriate the structures and chord changes with love enough to perform them straight ahead here ("Sweet Jane," "What Goes On"), and stretched-into-just-shy-of-oblivion there ("All Tomorrow's Parties," "Oh Sweet Nuthin'"). They absolutely steamroll through and inject new life into songs you've heard a million times, like "I'm Waiting For My Man," "Run Run Run," and especially an amped-up "White Light/White Heat." Some Kinda Love might prove to be the best tribute record of the 2020s. The only thing missing from it is a half hour version of "Sister Ray." © Mike McGonigal/Qobuz