3 stars out of 5 -- "[A]lways captivating....LIBIDO showcases Fontaine's husky vocals with great sympathy."© TiVo

Mister Mystère, the long-awaited studio album follow-up to the chart-topping smash success Qui de Nous Deux? (2003), casts -M- (i.e., singer/songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Matthieu Chédid) in a new role. The pink-suited and pointy-haired wildman pictured on the front cover of Qui de Nous Deux? has given way to a shadowy man of mystery draped in contrasting black-and-white colors and hidden beneath the brim of his hat. Mister Mystère isn't a full-blown concept album, but it's certainly conceptual, not only in terms of costume but also lyrics. The genesis of the album can be traced back to "Mister Mystère," a song Chédid co-wrote with Brigitte Fontaine for her album Libido (2006). A new version of the song opens Mister Mystère, and the man-of-mystery motif plays out over the course of the album, much of it written in tandem with Fontaine. The lead single, "Le Roi des Ombres" (whose title translates to "The King of Shadows" in English), nicely encapsulates Chédid's new persona, and the primarily instrumental late-album highlight "Hold Up" is a vivid portrayal of his eventual demise. Besides Fontaine, Chédid shares songwriting credits with his famous father, the singer Louis Chédid, and George Kretek, whom he collaborated with on the Vanessa Paradis album Divinidylle (2007). While much of the album is conceptual, the music is wide-ranging in terms of style, veering from guitar rock strut ("Mister Mystère") to gentle acoustic pop ("Phébus"), soul-funk ("Est-ce Que C'est Ça?"), soul-pop ("Le Roi des Ombres"), blues-rock ("Tanagra"), chanson ("L'Elixir"), Afro-pop ("Amssétou"), and so on. Those hoping for a reprise of prior -M- albums are bound to be disappointed by Mister Mystère, a clear departure that is not so much a step forward for Chédid as it is a playful sidestep away from high expectations. For all its conceptual qualities, Mister Mystère is actually a modest effort. Most of the songs clock in around three minutes, and the album itself is over and done in around 40 minutes, not counting the abundance of bonus material. Even if it lacks the epic qualities one might have hoped for after the tremendous success of Qui de Nous Deux? and the six-year wait that followed, Mister Mystère is nonetheless impressive and one of the more entertaining French pop albums of the year. It's good to have -M- back, even if he's cast in a different role than before.© TiVo

If the city of New York didn't exist, Lou Reed would have had to invent it in order to create a suitable environment for himself, a place where high art and street-level rock & roll stand side by side. New York figured so prominently in Reed's music, it's surprising it took him until 1989 to make an album simply called New York, a set of 14 scenes and sketches from the city that was his spiritual home. As a songwriter, New York is the strongest and best-realized set of songs in Reed's solo catalog; while his superb 1982 comeback The Blue Mask sometimes found him reaching for his effects, New York's accumulated details and deftly drawn caricatures hit bull's-eye after bull's-eye for 57 minutes, all with an easy stride and striking lyrical facility. New York also found Reed writing about the larger world rather than personal concerns for a change, and in the beautiful, decaying heart of New York City, he found plenty to talk about -- the devastating impact of AIDS in "Halloween Parade," the vicious circle of child abuse in "Endless Cycle," the plight of the homeless in "Xmas in February." Even on the songs where he pointedly mounts a soapbox ("There Is No Time," "Hold On," and "Good Evening Mr. Waldheim"), he does so with a down-to-earth intelligence and smart-assed wit that makes him sound opinionated rather than preachy; the specific details of his rants may have faded into memory a few decades later, but the essential themes still ring true. When Reed looks into his own life, it's with humor and perception; "Beginning of a Great Adventure" is a hilarious meditation on the possibilities of parenthood, and "Dime Store Mystery" is a moving elegy to his former patron Andy Warhol. Reed introduced a new band on this set, and though guitarist Mike Rathke didn't challenge him the way Robert Quine did, he didn't need much prodding to play at the peak of his game, and Rob Wasserman's fluid, inventive bass and Fred Maher's precise drumming are strong, smart, and rock hard. Produced with subtle intelligence and a welcome absence of flash, New York is a masterpiece of literate, adult rock & roll, and the finest album of Lou Reed's solo career.© Mark Deming /TiVo

Among the most charismatic guitarists of the day, Pablo Sáinz-Villegas draws large crowds. He is capable of fresh programming, as on his 2015 Harmonia Mundi release Americano, but he often sticks to pieces he knows his audiences will love. Blue Album is mostly of the latter type, although there are a few wrinkles. The title refers not to the blues but to the "blue hour" depicted in the graphics, conducive to music with, Sáinz-Villegas says, "a particularly intimate mood." The emphasis is on the mood, for everything here fits into essentially the same reflective mold, with a moderate tempo and harmonies inflected only a click or two away from diatonicism. In a way, it is impressive that Sáinz-Villegas can make pieces as diverse as Philip Glass' "Orphée's Bedroom" (from the Orphée Suite) and a Passacaglia of Silvius Leopold Weiss sound as though they're cut from the same cloth. In fact, it is the variety of source material that keeps the consistency of material from starting to cloy; Sáinz-Villegas caps his program with selections from The Deer Hunter and Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, the former arranged by guitarist John Williams, and these add a contemporary note without disturbing the guitarist's ambiance. If Sáinz-Villegas goes out on the road with this material, it is likely to suit him well; on a recording, it makes for a pleasant 50 minutes of listening.© James Manheim /TiVo

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As an oboe/guitar player involved in electro popular music, it's no surprise Iva Davies took to Roxy Music, especially on "Street Café" and the mega-hit "Hey Little Girl," which duly landed in no less than 13 European Top Ten singles charts, going all the way in Switzerland. An album of atmospheres, "Great Southern Land" evokes images of Australia's arid interior, while "Trojan Blue" conjures up medieval Italy or France. "Mysterious Thing" continues Primitive Man's mood, and produces what may be the best line in ambient white funk recorded! Running orders for the album fluctuate; Australian editions swapped "Love in Motion" for the rockier "Break These Chains" (vice versa in the U.K.). Finishing up is an excellent reworking of "Goodnight Mr. Mathews," which had earlier appeared on the Steve Nye single-only version of "Love in Motion" (itself re-recorded less successfully). Primitive Man (aka Love in Motion in the U.K.) is still one his finest recordings. Those seeking out the CD are also blessed with the inclusion of "Over the Line," hitherto only available on Fresco and the singles box set, the original 12" of "Girl," and the German version of "Uniform."© Kelvin Hayes /TiVo

Lou Reed, for Gen X at least, was the weird, slightly estranged uncle who could recite French poetry from memory while doing knife tricks with a personalized switchblade. When he came around, things could be exciting and a little uncomfortable, and even though you've never really known him very well, his legend loomed large. New York changed that. It was the first Lou Reed album that Gen X could justifiably claim as their own; released in early 1989, it was really more of a '90s album as it definitively put the '80s in the rearview. The bite of Lou Reed's lyrics was nothing new of course, but the generation coming of age in the late '80s had never had a new Lou album to attach themselves to; New York was released three years after the old-fart-trying-new-things vibes of Mistrial and more than eight years after The Blue Mask, the last Reed album to completely abandon "contemporary" sounds in favor of back-to-basics musicianship, crisp production, and strong, unforgiving lyrics that spoke directly to the spiritual affinities of a cynical generation. From the first notes of "Romeo Had Juliette," Reed's sonic mission was clear: By stripping his band down to two guitars, an electric upright bass, and a simple drum kit (played by co-producer Fred Maher and occasionally augmented with percussion by Mo Tucker), the attention was to be focused on the lyrics. Delivering a clear-eyed assessment of how devastating the '80s had been to the city he was so closely associated with, the lyrics on New York drop the listener into a city that is ravaged by AIDS, proto-gentrification, rampant inequality, and the "Statue of Bigotry," but still in touch with its expansive, egalitarian, no-B.S. heart. While today's ears may flinch at some of the lyrics ("spic" and "homeboys" particularly bristle), ears then flinched too. Reed knew what he was doing by writing plain-spoken and deceptively straightforward verses; by not mincing words and speaking like a "real" New Yorker (as if he had a choice), his astute observational skills and unassailable connection to the city give him both personal and poetic license to tell the intricate, intimate, and intense stories throughout New York. It's debatable whether New York actually needed a remastering—its sharp-edged mix was perfectly suited to a late '80s CD master and already was given plenty of air to breathe by the spare arrangements—but this new mastering does open up the album a bit more, mitigating some of the CD-era sheen while not muting any of Reed's slicing guitar work. The unreleased tracks are a similarly mixed bag, as the material is in various states of completion. "Dirty Blvd," for instance is presented in both a "work tape" that is little more than a riff memo as well as a "rough mix" that presents a meatier, more substantial version than the final album version that manages to somehow put Reed's voice even more in the listener's face. Meanwhile, non-LP track "The Room" is a disappointing, all-guitar instrumental piece that's out of context on such a lyrical album; it winds up sounding like leftover material used in the dissonant coda of "There Is No Time." The live material sounds like one of the all-New York sets that Reed performed around this time, but it is in fact culled from multiple concerts. While completists may balk at this, the final result is a quite strong collection of live performances. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Colour by Numbers was Culture Club's most successful album, and, undoubtedly, one of the most popular albums from the 1980s. Scoring no less than four U.S. hit singles (and five overseas), this set dominated the charts for a full year, both in the United States and in Europe. The songs were infectious, the videos were all over MTV, and the band was a media magnet. Boy George sounded as warm and soulful as ever, but one of the real stars on this set was backing vocalist Helen Terry, who really brought the house down on the album's unforgettable first single, "Church of the Poison Mind." This album also featured the band's biggest (and only number one) hit, the irresistibly catchy "Karma Chameleon," its more rock & roll Top Five follow-up "Miss Me Blind," and the fourth single (and big club hit), "It's a Miracle" (which also featured Helen Terry's unmistakable belting). Also here are "Victims," a big, dark, deep, and bombastic power ballad that was a huge hit overseas but never released in the U.S., and other soulful favorites such as "Black Money" and "That's the Way (I'm Only Trying to Help You)," where Boy George truly flexed his vocal muscles. In the 1980s music was, in many cases, flamboyant, fun, sexy, soulful, colorful, androgynous, and carefree, and this album captured that spirit perfectly. A must for any collector of 1980s music, and the artistic and commercial pinnacle of a band that still attracted new fans years later.© Jose Promis /TiVo

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Following Strut's essential 2014 Sun Ra compendium In the Orbit of Ra, curated by longtime Arkestra leader/musician Marshall Allen, the U.K.-based label tapped influential BBC disc jockey Gilles Peterson to mix a follow-up volume. To Those of Earth... and Other Worlds is a double-CD montage of nearly three-dozen selections from numerous lineups of the Arkestra, including a handful of unreleased live cuts and several more rarities. As with In the Orbit of Ra, this isn't meant as a definitive survey or a greatest-hits anthology (there's no way to boil down the essence of any artist with over a hundred albums to a single release, let alone an artist whose discography is as vast and mythical as Sun Ra's). Instead, it's another dense, thrilling journey into the daunting catalog of the most intergalactic musician of all time. The continuous mix format provides immediacy, sometimes excerpting only a minute or two from much longer pieces, swiftly segueing between active, busy passages of music rather than extended atonal jams or freakouts. (Don't expect anything from, say, Strange Strings or Atlantis on this one.) The emphasis is placed on vocal-driven cuts, so it's an accessible entry point for Sun Ra novices. Even the most out-there selections (such as the echo-drenched "Adventure-Equation") are generally melodic and grounded in rhythm, even if it's loose and abstract. The set ends with a few of the best examples of Sun Ra's cosmic philosophy ("you made a mistake, you did something wrong, now make another mistake, and do something right!"; a stripped-down live version of signature tune "Space Is the Place"), spreading his eternal messages of universal love and harmony. © Paul Simpson /TiVo

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It's really not that difficult to hurdle the sophomore blues provided you're an excellent songwriter and performer, that you have the same, equally excellent producer behind the scenes who contributed to the first album, and most importantly, that you haven't tampered with the hit-making formula from the first. Thankfully, Da Real World is clearly a Missy Elliott album in most respects, with Timbaland's previously trademarked, futuristic-breakbeat production smarts laced throughout. The churchgoing Elliott has often remarked that she wishes she didn't need profanity to get attention, and the album accordingly includes satirical nods to other clichéd notions of hip-hop -- the single "She's a Bitch" is the best example, wherein Elliott reappropriates the insult to refer to strong females. She also takes on the cartoonish Eminem for "Bus a Rhyme," a track that turns out to be one of the best on the album. Da Brat and Aaliyah make repeat appearances, and Redman and OutKast's Big Boi also contribute to this excellent follow-up.© Keith Farley /TiVo

Chet Atkins is more esteemed as a session musician and producer than as a solo artist, and critics have rightly noted that much of his immense catalog as a solo artist is unimpressive. It might thus be assumed that it would be difficult to pick a two-CD, 40-track career-spanning retrospective that would both represent much of his finest solo output and appeal to the general listener, not just the country music scholar. Happily, this set manages the difficult feat of doing exactly that, owing to intelligent selection of a wide cross-section of tracks, going all the way back to a 1946 single by Chester Atkins & the All-Star Hillbillies and all the way up to a 1995 recording (though most of the set predates 1970). Atkins' virtuosity as a guitarist has never been in question, but here it's allied with good material and taste, showing him as a fine blender of hillbilly, boogie, and jazz styles in a variety of contexts. It's mostly instrumental, of course, but wisely his talents as a sideman are showcased here and there too on vocal sides by the Carter Sisters and Mother Maybelle, Eddy Arnold, the Everly Brothers, and Don Gibson. Even the pop standards are good when chosen this judiciously, and there are some surprisingly bold moves into more electric and rock-influenced territory on cuts like "Slinkey" (with its innovative tremolo), "Boo Boo Stick Beat," the Shadows cover "Man of Mystery," and "Teen Scene" (which he co-wrote with Jerry Reed). It might not be the ultimate Atkins compilation, given the sheer quantity of material the guitarist recorded. But it's a good -- and, more crucially, very listenable -- starting point for surveying his work as a solo artist.© Richie Unterberger /TiVo

The exemplary 1988 Nonesuch release of Nixon in China, with Edo de Waart leading the Orchestra of St. Luke's, with members of the original cast, is iconic for fans of the opera, but a new recording is likely to offer a fresh take on the piece. Naxos' version, with Marin Alsop conducting a live performance with the Colorado Symphony Orchestra, is a welcome addition to the catalog. On Nonesuch, Carolann Page did a good job suggesting Pat Nixon's fragility, but she was the cast's weakest link. Her vocal limitations were painfully obvious, and the listener was left with the feeling, in moments like Pat's great aria, "This is prophetic," that there was much more to the music than what she was able to convey. Here, Maria Kanyova is superbly secure as Pat, singing with a rounded, glowing tone. Trudy Ellen Craney as Madame Mao was also problematic, and while Tracy Dahl doesn't sound as strained in the stratospheric role, her voice is small, and this is a part that cries out for a big, thrilling coloratura soprano. Robert Orth's Nixon here isn't always as vocally smooth as James Maddalena's, but he brings to the role an idiosyncratic vehemence and social awkwardness that feel more urgently and authentically Nixonian; this performance makes it sound like Richard Nixon is the role he was born to play. Orth and Kanyova offer the strongest reasons to check out this new recording. Marc Heller's Mao Tse-tung is vocally more solid, heroic, and altogether more attractive than John Duykers', but less quirky and dramatically engaging. Sanford Sylvan's warm and radiant Chou En-lai was a highlight of the original version; his first-act aria, "Ladies and gentlemen, Comrades and friends," was transcendently serene, and "I am old and cannot sleep," brought the opera to a luminous, hauntingly autumnal close. Chen-Ye Yuan manages Chou's music, but his voice is somewhat rough and his interpretation undistinguished. Thomas Hammons reprises his role as Henry Kissinger, and his characterization is significantly more vivid and sharply etched here. The Colorado Symphony Orchestra's tone is leaner than that of Orchestra of St. Luke's, and lacks their warmth and rounded blend. The second scene of the second act, a performance of a revolutionary ballet in which Kissinger is an actor, is so peculiar that it's hard to imagine it making much sense even in the very best of circumstances. De Waart at least keeps thing moving along at an energetic clip, so that you aren't left with time to try to puzzle out what is going on, but Alsop's handling is not only perplexing, it's inert, and certainly the low point of the new recording. Alsop otherwise keeps up the momentum the score requires, and the third act is lovely, lyrical, and lovingly shaped. In the first two acts, though, the transitions between sections, which are genuinely tricky to pull off, frequently sound awkward and abrupt, where de Waart was able to create a seamless and inexorable flow. The sound of Naxos' live recording doesn't come close to the sumptuousness of Nonesuch's version. It's shallower, overall, and the orchestra sounds less integrated. The voices lack the consistent ringing resonance that made the Nonesuch release outstanding. The live audience, though, adds something; its laughter (particularly in Pat's tour of the Chinese countryside) is a reminder that the opera is, in fact, a comedy and has moments that are very funny. While it is not likely to displace the first recording in the hearts and ears of Nixon fans, Naxos' version offers some very fine performances and is one that true devotees of the opera are likely to want to hear. © TiVo