Utopia is the hip-hop blockbuster of 2023; a torrent of outrageous production that, in both sound and intent, mobilises superlatives. Travis Scott makes his comeback six years after Astroworld, the crowning achievement of a rise that seemed it would stop at nothing, before colliding with some serious problems with the law and his conscience. He sunk to a very low point, some felt nearing the end of his career. But here he is now, patching up his statute as the heavyweight of the 2010s with this fourth album, aided and abetted by such pundits of the genre as Mike Dean, WondaGurl, Jahaan Sweet and Kanye West (whose influence is obvious). It was a gamble, but one that paid off. Blended with rock and industrial influences, Utopia is first and foremost about big sound, the kind that hits you square in the chest. From Hyaena to the superb Modern Jam (produced by Guy-Man from Daft), from Lost Forever to the whopping single K-Pop, Travis Scott superbly restores his reputation, aided by an army of prestigious featuring artists (Beyoncé, The Weekend, James Blake, Drake, Yung Lean, Playboi Carti...) and his unbridled vocal imagination. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

Though the eight-hour work Sleep is one of the longest single pieces of classical music ever composed and the audience at its premiere were given beds instead of seats, Max Richter's intentions for the work were anything but sensational. Describing it as “an eight-hour personal lullaby for a frenetic world and a manifesto for a slower pace of existence," he consulted neuroscientist David Eagleman as he worked on these soft, gliding compositions for piano, strings, electronics and vocals, taking into account the nuances of dreaming sleep and deep sleep. Designed to be listened to while asleep, the low drones that wind through the work encourage a phase of sleep that consolidates memory and learning -- a process that might seem as thrilling as defragmenting a hard drive, but in Richter's hands, has the same aching-yet-inspiring beauty that has graced his work since The Blue Notebooks.© TiVo

Antonio Vivaldi's Le Quattro Stagioni is one of the most beloved works in Baroque music, and even the most casual listener can recognize certain passages of Spring or Winter from frequent use in television commercials and films. Yet if these concertos have grown a little too familiar to experienced classical fans, Max Richter has disassembled them and fashioned a new composition from the deconstructed pieces. Using post-minimalist procedures to extract fertile fragments and reshape the materials into new music, Richter has created an album that speaks to a generation familiar with remixes, sampling, and sound collages, though his method transcends the manipulation of prerecorded music. Richter has actually rescored the Four Seasons and given the movements of Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter thorough makeovers that vary substantially from the originals. The new material is suggestive of a dream state, where drifting phrases and recombined textures blur into walls of sound, only to re-emerge with stark clarity and poignant immediacy. Violinist Daniel Hope is the brilliant soloist in these freshly elaborated pieces, and the Konzerthaus Kammerorchester Berlin is conducted with control and assurance by André de Ridder, so Richter's carefully calculated effects are handled with precision and subtlety. Deutsche Grammophon's stellar reproduction captures the music with great depth, breadth, and spaciousness, so everything Richter and de Ridder intended to be heard comes across.© Blair Sanderson /TiVo

A portrait of the artist as a young man, The Nightfly is a wonderfully evocative reminiscence of Kennedy-era American life; in the liner notes, Donald Fagen describes the songs as representative of the kinds of fantasies he entertained as an adolescent during the late '50s/early '60s, and he conveys the tenor of the times with some of his most personal and least obtuse material to date. Continuing in the smooth pop-jazz mode favored on the final Steely Dan records, The Nightfly is lush and shimmering, produced with cinematic flair by Gary Katz; romanticized but never sentimental, the songs are slices of suburbanite soap opera, tales of space-age hopes (the hit "I.G.Y.") and Cold War fears (the wonderful "The New Frontier," a memoir of fallout-shelter love) crafted with impeccable style and sophistication.© Jason Ankeny /TiVo

In covering the Beatles, jazz pianist Brad Mehldau chose to focus on the "strangeness" of the band's music. But as he explains in the liner notes, it's also the "universality," present in parallel to strangeness, that makes it so inviting and influential; the combination of the two—which may also be the secret to the band's artistic immortality—is, according to Mehldau, what underpins his approach to this beautifully realized project. Filmed and recorded live in front of an audience at the Philharmonie de Paris, this session benefits from intelligently placed microphones and minimal applause. It was edited by Camille Grateau, mixed by Nicolas Poitrenaud, and mastered in the U.S. by Greg Calbi at Sterling Sound. Though cries of "sellout" from jazz purists are sure-to-come, listeners will find many insights into Mehldau's playing and the band's utterly original creative universe. Opening with an unbroken suite of three tunes in their entirety ("I Am The Walrus," "Your Mother Should Know and "I Saw Her Standing There"—the last of which he plays in barrelhouse piano style), it's very clear that Mehldau brought immense thought, passion and especially respect for the band's prismatic genius to this project. He genuinely feels this music, most of which was composed on piano. Sticking relatively close to the familiar melodies, Mehldau embroiders them with a flow of ideas and chordal tangents. His improvisations never venture too far out, however, nor are they ever disconnected from any song's basic emotional underpinning. As is to be expected, some interpretations are more successful than others. "Here, There and Everywhere," played mostly in the piano's highest registers, stretches and crystallizes but abruptly stops, apparently out of discovery. In other cases, Mehldau uncovers rich new veins of inspiration: He makes a high energy mini concerto out of the usually triumphant "Maxwell's Silver Hammer," improvising high notes, adding moody journeys of improvisation, and at times snapping back into choruses where he flashes ornate New Orleans piano professor bravado. Best of all, at least for sentimentalists, is the pianist—who's often accused of a certain detachment and coldness in his playing—lingering over lush Paul McCartney songs like "Golden Slumbers" and "For No One," raising their melodic purity to new heights of poignancy. A rambunctious, joyous success on every level. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

Max Richter's 2012 Recomposed album was an enormous success, topping charts in many countries (not just the usual classical-oriented ones) and making its way onto numerous soundtracks, including that for the television series Bridgerton. For those rare souls who haven't encountered it, it was a sort of contemporary remake of Vivaldi's Four Seasons violin concertos, using the originals as thematic source material to a greater or lesser degree and subjecting them to electronic treatment. It has become almost as ubiquitous as the concertos on which it was based. Now, Richter has remade Recomposed, even recomposing it a bit; the new album is just under four minutes shorter than its predecessor. He also recruits London's ethnically diverse Chineke! Orchestra, gives them gut-stringed period instruments on which to play (the players were using these for the first time, and this works quite a bit better than you might expect), and collaborates with a new violinist, the wirier Elena Urioste in place of Daniel Hope, and also uses "period" electronics, playing a vintage Moog synthesizer himself. Deutsche Grammophon's notes reassure classical listeners that they may not recognize the difference between the Moog and the earlier contemporary electronics, and perhaps this is a problem as well for the many young electronic music fans who have come to Richter, but for anyone around in the 1970s, Richter's bass lines and sonic washes will be quite recognizable. Is Richter simply trying to milk his original concept? Maybe, but in a sense, this was and remains the point. Richter has written that he wanted to use period instruments on the original Recomposed recording but couldn't interest recording companies in the idea. They add a fresh wrinkle to the sound, and the whole new project is an intriguing attempt to see what remains of Vivaldi in an era when music evolves through remixes and through sampling of earlier material rather than being fixed and discrete. There is even a "Levitation Mix" of the "Spring 1" movement, as if to say that the process will continue beyond its latest iteration. It's safe to say that this release has something to offer even to those who know the original Recomposed album well, or for that matter, who know the original Four Seasons well.© James Manheim /TiVo

From the opening rumble of John Lennon's "Come Together" leading into George Harrison's seductive "Something," Paul McCartney's tuneful doowop ballad "Oh Darling," and Ringo Starr's charmingly goofy "Octopus Garden," (all progressing to the nearly side-long medley that appropriately closes with "And in the end/the love you take/is equal to the love you make") Abbey Road—renowned as the final golden moment in The Beatles’ otherwise unpleasant demise—is arguably the band's masterpiece. The latest in a systematic remixing and reissuing of the Beatles catalog directed by original producer George Martin's son Giles, Abbey Road has been remixed and reissued in various configurations including 5.1 surround and Dolby Atmos to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the album's release. The 96 kHz/24-bit high resolution stereo remix adds space and dynamics to deepen and brighten the original. The allure for those already familiar with the original album are 23 alternate takes and demos meant to shed light on the band's famed creative process. The revelations are subtle but telling. Lennon's wit shows through on a bit of studio patter left into an alternate take of "I Want You" (he responds to a noise complaint from Soho neighbors of Trident Studio with "What are they doing here at this time of night?" and his impassioned vocals on "Come Together (Take 5)," where at the end he can be heard saying "I'm losing my cool," speaks to the enthusiasm that the band had for these sessions. The nearly-there 36th take of "You Never Give Me Your Money," and the 20th takes of "Sun King" and "Mean Mr. Mustard," are examples of how the material evolved and was sharpened in the studio. Conversely, McCartney's piano and plaintive singing on "Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight" (Takes 1-3), a tune whose line, "Once there was a way to get back homeward," often cited as an expression of regret over the band's crumbling—shows how the band sometimes had a concept firmly in mind before the tape began to roll. Although the previously recorded Let It Be would be released six months later (and just a few weeks after the Beatles' break-up), Abbey Road is the sound of the most unique creative force in the history of popular music bidding farewell; those incredibly talented parts become a fabulous whole for the last time. © Robert Baird / Qobuz

In 2015, Max Richter released the now legendary Sleep, an eight-hour instrumental investigation into music and sleep(‘s relationship). He sought to transcribe the essentially neurological phenomenon as a piece of music. With the help of David Eagleman, an American neuroscientist conducting relevant research, he investigated notable patterns and behaviours to be reflected in his compositions. He incorporates repetitive figures of speech, loops and drones that stimulate certain phases in dreams and deep sleep. The music aims to be an expressive medium for the human subconscious.Eight years later, Richter has collaborated once again with his colleagues from the original project, Brian Snow, Clarice Jensen and Yuki Numata. While Sleep was originally devised for piano, strings, soprano and electronics, the modified version of Tranquility Base focuses on synthesisers and electronic sound effects. The name of this 30-minute EP alludes to Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong’s landing on the moon. Max Richter is therefore taking Sleep to a new level, elevating his work into the time and weightlessness of space. It begins with a linear organ melody with new musical layers, such as reverberating sounds, strings and synthesisers, which are gradually introduced. It is a work comprised of 16 interwoven variations, taking a look at the myriad themes of Sleep, twisting them and fusing them together. The album ultimately encourages disconnection and calm. ©Lena Germann/Qobuz

On her stellar sophomore set, Diamonds & Dancefloors, American pop hitmaker Ava Max bests her 2020 breakthrough debut with precision focus and a bounty of catchy hooks. Yet another instance where every track could be a lead single, the album is indebted to '80s synth-based dance-pop ("Million Dollar Baby," "Weapons") and early-'90s house anthems ("Ghost," "Diamonds & Dancefloors"), extending her pedigree as the next logical progression after forebears like Lady Gaga and Dua Lipa. With executive producer Cirkut back in tow, Diamonds & Dancefloors seamlessly evolves the playful pop heard on Heaven & Hell and hones the attack with an icy determination born from recent breakups. Hardened by heartbreak, Max takes her pain to the dancefloor, drying her tears through the power of pop. The energy never relents -- the skittering two-step of the Omar Fedi-assisted "In the Dark" is the closest thing to a "break" -- and it's pure, irresistible thrills from start to finish, buoyed by the power of Max's vocal range and passionate delivery. Beyond the official singles, other highlights include the dark synth creep of "Sleepwalker"; the disco-kissed earworm "Turn Off the Lights"; the electronic dance bliss of "Get Outta My Heart" (which samples Bernard Herrmann's Twisted Nerve score); and the pulsing neon-electro "Last Night on Earth." Deftly executed and ideal for repeat listens, Diamonds & Dancefloors makes it two-for-two for Max's catalog, delivering on the promise of her debut and pushing her even further toward the top of the early-2020s pop pantheon.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

After the terrorist attacks in London in 2005 on Infra (2010), the war in Iraq on The Blue Notebooks (2003) and the conflict in Kosovo on Memoryhouse (2002), Max Richter places the migrant crisis at the heart of Exile, released in the middle of summer 2021. Even though his protean work alternates between film music, atypical re-readings of classical pieces, conceptual projects and unexpected collaborations, the German-British composer has always anchored some of his music in reality and in the evils of his time. Here, his commitment is bound up with an unprecedented formal approach. Exile brings together different materials. The central piece that gives the record its title is the ballet music written for the Nederlands Dans Theater company and its resident choreographers Sol León and Paul Lightfoot. Richter's virtuosity lies in the universality of the themes of this work, which is carried by the harrowing strings of the Baltic Sea Philharmonic conducted by Kristjan Järvi. Intensity as well as enchantment remain at the centre of this music, which is more influenced than ever by American minimalists like Philip Glass and Steve Reich but also by the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, whom Richter visited during recording…Exile is rounded off by orchestral versions of some of the older chamber works which are typical of his output: On the Nature of Daylight from The Blue Notebooks, Infra 5 from Infra, The Haunted Ocean from the soundtrack to Waltz with Bashir and Sunlight from Songs from Before. In this symphonic context, Max Richter's music reveals new hues that the infinite repetition of the motif of the composition Exiles sharpens over the course of the record... Assembled in this way, all this apparently heterogeneous music succeeds in forming a whole. It mirrors the strong identity of this leading force in the contemporary neoclassical scene, a label that provokes much debate. But never mind the bottle, so long as we get drunk: Exile remains a fascinating recording. It offers a combination of sophistication, simplicity and beauty. © Marc Zisman / Qobuz