Tightening his belt to deliver a record that runs less than a half-hour -- a considerable shift after 2022's triple-album Can I Take My Hounds to Heaven? -- Tyler Childers cuts away all the extraneous fat on Rustin' in the Rain, an album that's as succinct and resonant as an old '60s or '70s LP left to gather dust in a dollar bin. The connection to the past is intentional and apparent on Rustin' in the Rain: he takes the time to deliver a bruised cover of Kris Kristofferson's "Help Me Make It Through the Night," a song that seemingly appeared on every other country album of the early '70s. At times, Childers does nod to the shaggy beginnings of '70s progressive country -- the title track gallops like a runaway steed -- but he's not beholden to the outlaw caricature that's calcified over the decades. He dabbles in scripture on "Luke 2: 8-19," finding space for Margo Price to play the role of an angel; he leads his Food Stamps band through a rolling, sunny groove on "Perchon Mules," and concludes the record with "Space & Time," a slow-burner that recalls the glory days of country-soul. Although each of these songs could be viewed as traditional from a certain angle, Childers's perspective and execution gives his music a freshness. This is a singer/songwriter whose honky tonk weeper is all about "Phone Calls and Emails" and decided to give "In Your Love," his sweetest ballad, a video depicting a romance between gay coal miners in the '50s: he's explicitly treating country music as a genre that evolves, one that can encompass all manners of stories by building upon what's already been laid at the foundation. With its empathetic heart and kinetic kick, Rustin' in the Rain illustrates how vibrant and vital that idea can be.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

With Part of the Light (2018), Ray LaMontagne returned to his roots with his mix of Nick Drake-style folk, southern soul, fat-free blues and classic rock. The psychedelic influences of old Pink Floyd albums that were noticeable on Ouroboros (2016) felt like a distant memory. With Monovision, the American songwriter cements his sound, confirming that it’s closer to Cat Stevens than David Gilmour. With this eighth album, he’s a little closer to sitting on the throne of Americana. When he presses down on the accelerator (Strong Enough), the virile toughness of Creedence Clearwater Revival doesn’t feel too far away. And when he starts daydreaming (We’ll Make It Through) it’s hard – especially with the harmonica – not to think of Neil Young. But at the age of 46 and having spent more than two decades on the scene, Ray LaMontagne has a sound of his own. Yes, he has rather typical voice though it never stops him venturing past the heavy shadows of his spiritual forefathers. So much so that this extremely purified 2020 vintage is perhaps the album that sounds most like Ray LaMontagne. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

On Real Gone, Tom Waits walks a fraying tightrope. By utterly eliminating one of the cornerstone elements of his sound -- keyboards -- he has also removed his safety net. With songwriting and production partner Kathleen Brennan, he strips away almost everything conventional from these songs, taking them down to the essences of skeletal rhythms, blasted and guttural blues, razor-cut rural folk music, and the rusty-edge poetry and craft of songwriting itself. His cast includes guitarists Marc Ribot and Harry Cody, bassist/guitarist Larry Taylor, bassist Les Claypool, and percussionists Brain and Casey Waits (Tom's son), the latter of whom also doubles on turntables. This does present problems, such as on the confrontational opener, "Top of the Hill." Waits uses his growling, grunting vocal atop Ribot's monotonously funky single-line riff and Casey's turntables to become a human beatbox offering ridiculously nonsensical lyrics. It's a throwaway, and the album would have been better had it been left off entirely. But it's also a canard, a sleight-of-hand strategy he's employed before. The jewels shine from the mud immediately after. The mutated swamp tango of "Hoist That Rag" has stuttered clangs and quakes for drums, decorated by distorted Latin power chords and riffs from Ribot, along with thundering deep bass from Claypool. On the ten-plus minute "Sins of My Father," Cody's spooky banjo walks with Taylor's low-strung bass and Waits' shimmering reverbed guitar as he ominously croons, revealing a rigged game of "star-spangled glitter" where "justice wears suspenders and a powdered wig." It's part revelation, part East of Eden, and part backroom political culture framed by the eve of the apocalypse. It's hunted, hypnotic, and spooky. In stripping away convention, Waits occasionally lets his songs go to extremes with absurd simplicity, such as on "Don't Go into That Barn," a musical cousin to his spoken "What's He Building?" from Mule Variations. But there's also the downright riotous squall of "Shake It," which sounds like an insane carny barker jamming with R.L. Burnside, or the riotous raging blues of "Baby Gonna Leave Me." There are "straight" narratives such as "How's It Gonna End," with its slow and brooding beat storyline, and the moving murder ballad "Dead and Lovely," with its drooping, shambolic elegance. There's the spoken word "Circus," with its wispy spindly frame that features Waits on chamberlain. And "Metropolitan Glide" feels like a hell-bent duet between James Brown and Captain Beefheart's Magic Band, followed by the fractured, busted-love, ranting-at-God pain that rips through "Make It Rain." The tender "Green Grass" is among Waits' finest broken love songs; it's movingly rendered by a character who could have resided in one of William Kennedy's novels. The set closes with "Day After Tomorrow," featured on MoveOn.org's Future Soundtrack for America. It is one of the most insightful and understated antiwar songs to have been written in decades. It contains not a hint of banality or sentiment in its folksy articulation. Real Gone is another provocative moment for Waits, one that has problems, but then, all his records do. His excesses, however, do nothing to cloud the stellar achievements of his risk-taking vision and often brilliant execution.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Since releasing their self-titled debut album in 1995, Gov't Mule have remained close to their trademark bluesy hard rock roots. While they cover classic blues tunes regularly, they apply that musical signature. Heavy Load Blues marks the first time the quartet have recorded an album devoted strictly to blues. They cut it in one small room in a New England studio standing very close to one another -- without headphones -- using small vintage amplifiers. The band played stripped-down blues live from the studio floor; the few overdubs were added later. The 13-song standard version of the set offers six excellent Warren Haynes originals alongside covers by masters such as Ann Peebles, Howlin' Wolf, Elmore James, Bobby "Blue" Bland, and others. Haynes co-produced the set with John Paterno. Gov't Mule's approach is exemplified in their reading of Junior Wells' "Snatch It Back and Hold It"; they inserted a spontaneous jam called "Hold It Back" into the middle without rehearsing it (Matt Abts' drumming is stellar). Leroy Carr's "Blues Before Sunrise" walks a line between the composer's strolling piano version (Danny Louis shines), John Lee Hooker's boogie read, and Muddy Waters' house-rocking Chicago blues take. Bland's "Ain't No Love in the Heart of the City" is slow, steamy, and downhearted, with glorious bass work from Jorgen Carlson and a swelling B-3. Haynes' singing -- buoyed by his biting guitar through the turnarounds -- has never sounded better. Tom Waits' "Make It Rain" is sinister, broken, and lost. The distorted guitar and basslines edge into a filthy Wurlitzer, then swirl around the lyric with venomous intent. Gov't Mule have performed Ann Peebles' "I Feel Like Breaking Up Somebody's Home" live before, but not like this. It delivers funky organ and bass work as Haynes adds delightfully rhythmic phrasing in his leads. The guitarist's "If Heartaches Were Nickels" has been recorded by Joe Bonamassa, Charles Wilson, and Dudley Taft, but this smoldering version is unparalleled due to Haynes' masterful playing and deeply emotional vocal delivery. Howlin' Wolf's "I Asked for Water (She Gave Me Gasoline)" is raucous, angry, and deep, deep blue; throughout it, Gov't Mule channel Jimi Hendrix's Band of Gypsies with great success. The title track is a slow, unaccompanied resonant acoustic blues done in vintage Delta style, while "Black Horizon" recalls Mississippi Fred McDowell's slide approach to gospel blues, complete with a testifying backing chorus. Heavy Load Blues is raw, heavy, and immediate, the sound of a band unfettered while pursuing a deep blue groove that never quits.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Now 48 years old, Dave Grohl seems to have reached a turning point in his career. A decisive one for the future. After receiving a well-deserved Legion of Honour for playing the drums for Nirvana he recorded the first album of the Foo Fighters in October 1994, six months after Kurt Cobain committed suicide. More pop but as untamed as the music of the band that made him famous, this start didn’t fail to impress. Gradually however, album after album, this rock’n’roll drawing from punk slowly smoothed out the edges to approach often very commercial radio tunes. To the point of Grohl and his crew filling out stadiums after stadiums with a rather complacent original soundtrack… With Concrete And Gold, it is clear the Foo Fighters took the time to reflect on their evolution. In the media, their leader even pulled out a mouth-watering marketing tirade: “this album is a Motörhead version of Sgt Pepper!”. And it must be said, what happened within our ears was something not too dissimilar to this description. Especially because Paul McCartney himself is involved on one of the titles! Indeed the former Beatle plays the drums on Sunday Rain. Other unexpected guests were invited to this metal-pop orgy: Justin Timberlake on Make It Right, Shawn Stockman from Boyz II Men on Concrete And Gold, Inara George from The Bird And The Bee on Dirty Water, Alison Mosshart from The Kills on La Dee Da and The Sky Is a Neighborhood, as well as saxophonist Dave Koz on La Dee Da! Much like Sgt Pepper’s patchwork cover art, this ninth Foo Fighters album goes in every direction. An orgasmic eclecticism carried by the traditional downpour of guitars, but also a more refined sense of pop melody than usual. Some songs are even testosterone-free to make way for rather delicious psychedelic illuminations… Mission accomplished for Dave Grohl in terms of ability to question and renew himself. © MD/Qobuz

With his 6th studio album (1978), Eric Clapton broke a cycle in his solo career: it was the last time that he used the musicians he started with. On Blackless, JJ Cale came back to compose I’ll Make Love To You Anytime while Bob Dylan wrote two tracks. After many well made albums, Clapton seemed to be in a little lack of inspiration. Even if the majority of the songs are paradise for guitar players, they might not seduce people that do not care much about that instrument. © AR/Qobuz

We have never seen a posthumous album hit the shelves so quickly after the death of an artist. Murdered on the 19th of February, 2020, at the age of 20, Pop Smoke immediately became the subject of resurrection projects. With Shoot for the Stars Aim for the Moon, produced by his mentor 50 Cent, it’s as if Pop Smoke has been brought back to life. Let us be clear: Pop Smoke is transformed on this album. This album is not about recording in continuity of who he was, namely the figurehead of the Brooklyn drill scene. The aim here is to take Pop Smoke a step forward without asking his permission. There are of course tracks that sound very Pop Smoke such as 44BullDog and Make It Rain, but how many are attempts to enter charts and playlists at any cost? The album includes Something Special, a syrupy tracks with early-2000 Bad Boy Records similarities and Got It on Me, which sounds like it could have been made for 50 Cent himself. New R&B flavours can be heard on Diana (featuring King Combs), curious sombre club rap sounds on West Coast Shit (with Tyga and Quavo) and some latin pop grooves on Enjoy Yourself. Pop Smoke’s strengths are somewhat dismissed in favour of track diversity and the exploration of new musical territory. Diehard fans will object but the wider public will no doubt be won over by this album. It’s daring, and at least you won’t get bored. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

Tom Waits’ Glitter and Doom Live doesn't fall into the various traps that many other concert recordings do, though it does have its problems. This double-disc set marks his third live effort in his nearly 40-year career, each one summing up his career to the point of its release. The first, Nighthawks at the Diner, issued in 1975 on Asylum, is regarded by many as one of the greatest live albums of all time. Big Time, released during his tenure at Island in 1986, is hotly debated in fan circles. It is likely that Glitter and Doom Live will be too, but for different reasons. The musical performances here were culled from Waits’ historic sold-out tour of the U.S. and Europe. He compiled and sequenced the tracks himself, intending to make them sound like a single show. The material leans, understandably, on his recordings with the Anti label. There are stellar performances here, of “Get Behind the Mule” from The Mule Variations, “Trampled Rose” from Real Gone, and a haunting version of Leadbelly’s “Fannin Street” from Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards, to mention just three of the 17 cuts included on disc one. But he also goes back to his Island albums with a new approach to the material. For instance, there are completely re-visioned readings of “Lucky Day” and “I’ll Shoot the Moon” from 1993’s Black Rider, and a killer -- though equally revamped -- version of “Singapore” from 1985’s Rain Dogs. Musically, the performances are flawless, as is the sound on this set. The killer stage band includes Vincent Henry on woodwinds and harmonica, guitarist Omar Torres, Patrick Warren on piano and keyboards, Casey Waits on drums/percussion, and Seth Ford Young on bass. There is also a guest appearance by Sullivan Waits on sax and clarinet; Tom plays piano and guitar. Waits decided to ax most of the stage banter from disc one. This is problematic because it is as much part and parcel of his show as the music is. Without it, the music as a whole feels more like just a random but solid collection of live tracks, rather than Waits' intended purpose of a single-show experience. The other problem is disc two, a bonus in this deluxe package comprised of a single 35-plus-minute track called "Tom's Tales," which splices stories and dialogue, reminiscences and spontaneous comedy. These routines work brilliantly and seamlessly in the context of his show. If one goes back to Nighthawks at the Diner or Big Time, evidence is ample. Without a song coming after these wildly various ruminations, they feel strangely disembodied and one can only hear it once or twice before the material itself feels old. Conversely, then, the musical disc feels incomplete, too. This one gets its grade strictly on the quality of the music. While the wide-spine digipack is beautiful, the project as a whole falls short, though some hardcore Waits fans will, as is customary, ardently disagree.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

With his 6th studio album (1978), Eric Clapton broke a cycle in his solo career: it was the last time that he used the musicians he started with. On Blackless, JJ Cale came back to compose I’ll Make Love To You Anytime while Bob Dylan wrote two tracks. After many well made albums, Clapton seemed to be in a little lack of inspiration. Even if the majority of the songs are paradise for guitar players, they might not seduce people that do not care much about that instrument. © AR/Qobuz

Bryan Adams has always advocated for more rock in the world, and this time he does so with the help of—would you believe it—John Cleese! The famous member of Monty Python lent his voice to the introduction of Kick Ass, one of 12 songs that feature in the Canadian’s fifteenth album. Parodying a preacher’s sermon, the comedian talks of an angel, dressed in boots and blue jeans, who was sent to earth to spread the good word of rock’n’roll. Humour and guitars go hand in hand on this record, perfectly capturing the tone of the album. The title track, So Happy It Hurts, is a tribute to spontaneity, whilst Never Gonna Rain conveys an almost divine sense of optimism. This release goes to show that Bryan Adams hasn’t strayed far from his status as the prince of happiness. The Run to You singer is still just as captivating too; Just Like Me, Just Like You and I’ve Been Looking For You pay testament to that. The track On the Road sees the 60-something reminisce about his lengthy career, recounting his 45 years of non-stop world tours. The word “Up” appears many times on the album, and this can only mean one thing: the pandemic hasn’t dampened Bryan Adams’ lust for life, and he’s keen to share his positivity with his listeners. ©Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

Since releasing their self-titled debut album in 1995, Gov't Mule have remained close to their trademark bluesy hard rock roots. While they cover classic blues tunes regularly, they apply that musical signature. Heavy Load Blues marks the first time the quartet have recorded an album devoted strictly to blues. They cut it in one small room in a New England studio standing very close to one another -- without headphones -- using small vintage amplifiers. The band played stripped-down blues live from the studio floor; the few overdubs were added later. The 13-song standard version of the set offers six excellent Warren Haynes originals alongside covers by masters such as Ann Peebles, Howlin' Wolf, Elmore James, Bobby "Blue" Bland, and others. Haynes co-produced the set with John Paterno. Gov't Mule's approach is exemplified in their reading of Junior Wells' "Snatch It Back and Hold It"; they inserted a spontaneous jam called "Hold It Back" into the middle without rehearsing it (Matt Abts' drumming is stellar). Leroy Carr's "Blues Before Sunrise" walks a line between the composer's strolling piano version (Danny Louis shines), John Lee Hooker's boogie read, and Muddy Waters' house-rocking Chicago blues take. Bland's "Ain't No Love in the Heart of the City" is slow, steamy, and downhearted, with glorious bass work from Jorgen Carlson and a swelling B-3. Haynes' singing -- buoyed by his biting guitar through the turnarounds -- has never sounded better. Tom Waits' "Make It Rain" is sinister, broken, and lost. The distorted guitar and basslines edge into a filthy Wurlitzer, then swirl around the lyric with venomous intent. Gov't Mule have performed Ann Peebles' "I Feel Like Breaking Up Somebody's Home" live before, but not like this. It delivers funky organ and bass work as Haynes adds delightfully rhythmic phrasing in his leads. The guitarist's "If Heartaches Were Nickels" has been recorded by Joe Bonamassa, Charles Wilson, and Dudley Taft, but this smoldering version is unparalleled due to Haynes' masterful playing and deeply emotional vocal delivery. Howlin' Wolf's "I Asked for Water (She Gave Me Gasoline)" is raucous, angry, and deep, deep blue; throughout it, Gov't Mule channel Jimi Hendrix's Band of Gypsies with great success. The title track is a slow, unaccompanied resonant acoustic blues done in vintage Delta style, while "Black Horizon" recalls Mississippi Fred McDowell's slide approach to gospel blues, complete with a testifying backing chorus. Heavy Load Blues is raw, heavy, and immediate, the sound of a band unfettered while pursuing a deep blue groove that never quits.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

The son of a traveling church minister, Northern Irish singer/songwriter Foy Vance spent the first five years of his life in the deep south, and he explores those roots on From Muscle Shoals. The first installment of a two-part dive into roots music, which also includes the Americana-leaning To Memphis, the ten-track set was recorded at the iconic FAME Studios in Alabama and features a seasoned crew of session players including original "Swampers" Spooner Oldham (keys) and David Hood (bass). Comprised of ten cuts, two of which ("Be with Me" and "Make It Rain") are punched-up versions of earlier works, Vance's 24-grit vocals and bluesy swagger go a long way in selling the material, as does the stellar musicianship of all involved, but in attempting to emulate a classic soul album, From Muscle Shoals -- a very on-the-nose name -- feels more like a facsimile. A workmanlike pastiche of well-oiled grooves, melodies, and lyrics that sound like they were run through a Stax Records song generator, Vance and company do their best to inject the proceedings with some zeal, but the shadows of Wilson Pickett, Otis Redding, and Percy Sledge loom too large. Like Van Morrison, soul and R&B have always been at the forefront of Vance's particular brand of Irish-American folk, but From Muscle Shoals leans too hard in one direction and ultimately fails to distinguish itself from its source material.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

Produced by Teddy Riley, Keith Sweat's debut, Make It Last Forever, exploded all over urban and pop stations and remains the brightest star in Sweat's galaxy of LPs. Sweat's pleading, whining tenor adroitly draws you into every song, demanding an emotional commitment. Who can't relate to "Something Just Ain't Right" and "Right and a Wrong Way," two tense, stunning realizations. The hip-hop beats and plucky guitar of "I Want Her" put new jack swing on the map; it was Sweat's first single release and topped Billboard's R&B chart the week of January 30, 1988. All eight tracks are impressive, with his rendition of Tony Hester's "In the Rain," popularized by the Dramatics, equaling and possibly surpassing the original.© Andrew Hamilton /TiVo