Memoria is Trentemøller’s sixth full-length studio album since his 2006 debut. While six albums over 16 years may not seem like the most prodigious of outputs, the Danish musician has absolutely taken listeners on some expansive journeys in that time. Ratcheting up the dynamics and textures with each new album, Trentemøller has continued to get bolder and more explorative as his career has evolved. Veering from straightforward electronica to darkwave and indie atmospheres, no two of his albums have sounded exactly alike, but they've all been uniquely dedicated to unboxing the potentialities of a certain combination of mood, texture, and instrumentation. Throughout his career there have been nods toward the undeniable influence that shoegaze had on his formative years as a Gen X indie musician, but none—not even the presence of Slowdive's Rachel Goswell on his previous album, the tense and dark Obverse—have been as explicit and thorough as the overall atmosphere here. Trentemøller's roots in electronic music and post-punk coalesce with soaring gothic melodrama and the gauzy ethereality of the second wave of shoegaze; Memoria is definitely not as dark and aggressive as Obverse, but is more inchoate, and even a bit romantic. Tracks like "Glow" and "Linger" have echoey guitar lines that sound as if Trentemøller has nicked a hard drive directly from Robin Guthrie's studio, while the vocals of longtime collaborator Lisbet Fritze evoke the over-echoed breathiness of classic shoegaze vocalists. When Memoria shifts from explicit shoegaziness—as on the electronic pulse of of "Darklands" and "A Summer's Empty Room" or the M83-meets-Slowdive electro-gaze of "No More Kissing in the Rain"—its downcast, atmospheric shimmer is never lost. The two approaches merge the most successfully on the nefarious swoon of "Swaying Pine Trees" (which sounds like Trentemøller's bid for an imaginary Twin Peaks soundtrack) and "Linger," which is all half-climax and sonic spaciousness. The track is a beautiful exercise in extended dynamics and slow-motion collapse, and a perfect close to an album that is both specific in its evocations yet hard to pin down. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

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Crossing the boundaries between Peter Gabriel, New Order, and Le Orme is Franco Battiato. His arty, lush work on L'Imboscata is some of the best stuff he has ever released. "Strani Giorni" is a brilliant, driving rocker that floats on a bed of keyboards as Battiato and Nicola Walker Smith trade lines back and forth in both Italian and English. "...Ein Tag aus dem Leben des Kleinen Johannes" might be the oddest thing here, a percussion-heavy pop song driven by rambling, gruff chanting set to the rhythm and hidden behind guitar and lead vocals. And in typical Battiato fashion, he turns right back around with a gorgeous ballad, the sweet "Amata Soliudine." Describing this album is entirely too complicated; it simply has to be heard to be understood. Battiato really does take some of the best elements of other genres and makes them into his own wonderful pop stew. He might remind listeners of other musicians at times, especially Peter Gabriel, but that comparison is as favorable as it gets. Adventurous listeners should really give this a listen. There is a lot of material here that transcends language barriers and provides a beautiful mesh of sounds.© Bradley Torreano /TiVo

The title of the two-disc album, Vivaldi: Vespro a San Marco, implies that the composer wrote a set of pieces comparable to Monteverdi's Vespro della beata Vergine, but the title needs to be interpreted somewhat loosely. The program notes describe the collection of psalms, canticles, motets, and prefatory chants recorded here as an evocation of a service of vespers Vivaldi might have assembled rather than a reconstruction of one he actually ever did. These vespers are distinctly Vivaldian in idiom, but they resemble Monteverdi's in the use of some common texts and in the diversity of musical styles, genres, and performing forces assembled; there is not much of a sense of unity in the traditional sense, but a profusion of delightfully varied musical vignettes, including a cappella chants, solos, ensembles, choruses, and instrumental pieces. The bugaboo of run-of-the-mill Vivaldi performances is most frequently a squared-off regularity that makes the music come across as undifferentiated and blocky. The superlative performances by Leonardo García Alarcón leading Choeur de Chambre de Namur and the chamber orchestra Les Agrémens (also based in Namur) are anything but run-of-the-mill. Alarcón consistently finds the musical individuality of Vivaldi's lines and invests them with unambiguous emotional meaning. He creates elegantly shapely contours even in the most rhythmically severe movements like the fugal counterpoint of "Donec ponam" from the Dixit Dominus, and consistently heightens the music's expressive lyricism. The soloists are also terrific, singing both with distinctiveness in their solos and with a gorgeous blend in the many ensembles. Sopranos Maria Soledad and Mariana Flores and bass Alejandro Meerapfel stand out for their especially sumptuous timbres and the musicality of their interpretations. All the singers and players sound like they are having a wonderful time performing this music and their enthusiasm is infectious. The sound of the live performances is clear, warmly present, and mostly clean except for some page turning and shuffling.© TiVo

Dietrich Buxtehude is a composer whose reputation is on the rise as performers look beyond the organ works that Bach took a 300-mile stroll to hear, and find a wealth of other riches. This disc, the second of a pair issued by its performers covering the similar repertory, focuses on a group of highly accomplished religious pieces for one or more voices and instruments, without chorus. Unlike Bach during most of his career, Buxtehude was an organist first and foremost; another Lübeck composer took care of the weekly vocal music for church. Though they are presented as a unitary set by the packaging and liner notes, the works on this album are of two sharply different types. Some are for small groups of voices, plus a small string group and continuo. It's easy to imagine these being sung on a Sunday in the living room of a well-established Lübeck merchant family; they have an intimate devotional quality that is familiar to us from Bach's music but that comes through especially nicely in this comparatively unusual setting. Other cantatas are for a solo voice, and these were not sung in anyone's home; they are fiery works for trained singers that Buxtehude must have had at his disposal. Some of the music is in German, the rest in Latin, and Buxtehude seems to have partially inspired Bach's ability to wring dramatic impact out of the sonic characteristics of a single German word. Try singing "nichts" repeatedly and rapidly as the performers here must do; they pull it off perfectly. Four top English soloists -- soprano Emma Kirkby, countertenor Michael Chance, tenor Charles Daniels, and bass Peter Harvey -- plus the Purcell Quartet handle these varied chores well in general. Those who want to hear Kirkby pushed to her limits can do so in the "Gloria Patri" movement of the cantata Dixit Dominus Domino meo, BuxWV 17, and the other soloists except for Harvey also get their athletic moments. Chance plays a bit loose with the pitch but is highly expressive. In the vocal-ensemble cantatas this English group does especially well in structures that point back to the middle seventeenth century -- ground basses, little strophic movements. Their precise style feels a little restrained in the moments where Buxtehude is closest to Bach, but some listeners may like it that way. In any event, this is an above-average exposition of some unfamiliar and quite important music. © TiVo

Rebecca Stewart together with the vocal ensemble Seconda Pract!ca explores the music of Josquin Desprez and his contemporaries Brumel and Willaert, commemorating the 500th anniversary of his death. The central piece of this recording is the famous Missa Mater patris by Josquin. Founded in 2012 by international musicians gathered in The Netherlands for their studies, Seconda Prat!ca has become one of the leading ensembles of the new generation of early music performers. The ensemble’s main goal is to bridge the gaps between performers and audience, revitalizing western musical heritage by bringing it back to a shared living experience. We achieve this through a continuous mixing of media, performance, research and musical excellence. Since 2013 Seconda Prat!ca has become part of the EEEmerging project, an initiative of the European Comission to support young developing ensemble specializing in Early Music. © Carpe Diem Records

Dominik Wörner (bass-baritone) and the Kirchheimer DübenConsort he founded focus in this recording on twelve pieces from the famous Düben collection and document in an exemplary way the enormous versatility of this unique collection, which was only discovered by chance in the 19th century. Ten composers from Schütz (his Nunc dimittis can be heard in an arrangement by Gustav Düben) to Capricornus and Pallavicino – including two anonymous authors – span a chronological arc over 80 years of eventful European music history from 1640 to 1720. Six instrumental pieces are combined with six vocal scores to form a multi-faceted programme, most of which have been recorded here for the first time. Under the direction of Jörg-Andreas Bötticher, the ensemble, which is made up of top-class specialists from the early music scene, succeeds in producing inspiring interpretations in the then widespread consort formation of two violins, two viols, violone, theorbo, dulcian and organ. Dominik Wörner presents himself here once again in top form – a very rewarding treasure trove of repertoire, which has been successfully and extremely skilfully brought to life! © Passacaille

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Paolo Conte's star was on the rise throughout the '80s, yet at the same time that his ineffable stage persona was triumphing all over Europe, his records from the period -- while always eminently enjoyable -- were becoming slightly less consistent than before. Benefiting from the break granted by his 1985 live release Concerti, Conte sounds definitely inspired in Aguaplano, his first studio album in three years and a strong contender for his best work ever. The only double album in Conte's discography, Aguaplano is logically the longest, but paradoxically one of the most focused projects of his entire career. One of the main reasons for this is Renzo Fantini's production,which wisely maintains a similar instrumental palette for the entire record. Compared with previous records such as Appunti di Viaggio and Paolo Conte [1994], the sound of Aguaplano seems stripped down to the bare essentials. Backed up by the familiar rhythm section of Ares Tavolazzi, Ellade Bandini, and Jimmy Villotti, Conte's trademark piano and vocal stylings take center stage in virtually every song. Impeccable horn arrangements render this already impressive set positively exquisite. Rather than individual efforts, Conte's songs in Aguaplano seem conceived as parts of an organic suite of sketches or miniatures. There may not be any immediately recognizable hits in Aguaplano, but that is a consequence of its uniform quality of mood and content. This is the rare double album worth listening to in its entirety, where the sum is greater than the parts. Which is not to say that, taken individually, the songs are not of the highest Conte standard: "Anni," "Blu Notte," "Gratis," "Ratafià," "Les Tam-Tam du Paradis..." -- it is almost unfair to look for highlights in such a cohesive collection, one that seems to get better with every listening. If anything, in another rare occurrence for a double album, the second disc is probably superior to the first. Everything feels in the right place in Aguaplano, from the songwriting and arrangements down to the album art and track sequencing: it cannot be a coincidence that the record is bookended by its two greatest moments, "Aguaplano" and "Jimmy Ballando." The title track functions as a film's opening shot, zooming in from an airplane high in the air to discover the baffling spectacle of a concert piano floating at sea, a fitting welcome to a secret universe where music and sensuality (or rather, the languid sensuality derived from this kind of music) prevail over logic. The last song, "Jimmy Ballando" is a comic masterpiece in which Conte and his buddy Jimmy, two aged playboys drowsy after a pantagruelic meal, attempt for old times' sake a last dancehall seduction. Alas, their failing eyesight impedes them in seeing that the women they invite over are Chinese, killing off any possibility of verbal communication. Resigned, the two men content themselves with dancing with their unexpected partners. A brilliant farewell to the world introduced in Aguaplano, "Jimmy Ballando" represents the slow awakening from the slumber induced by a long journey of alcohol, smoke, and dancing, and the humorous realization that one may not be so young anymore, and certainly no longer in step with the times. Yet, much like the mood created by this album, it was magic while the illusion lasted.© Mariano Prunes /TiVo

Baroque music has never quite been the wheelhouse of Theatre of Voices and their director, Paul Hillier, but this release has found both critical and commercial success. It's easy to see why. The music is completely fresh, coming from a personal collection in Sweden, and much of it is strong enough to make you wonder where it's been all your life. The composers involved are from the generations before Bach, and most of them influenced him. Primary among these is Dietrich Buxtehude, who lies at the center of the program and who had mixed German and Scandinavian background. Sample the fascinating elaboration on the title tune, which is unlike Bach or anyone else. Organ pieces are not just interludes but feel part of the groups of Christmas pieces on the program, which cover and evoke the seasonal themes of The Annunciation and Advent; The Shepherds; The Nativity; and New Year, Epiphany & Annunciation. The selection covers some little-heard composers including Johann Christoph Bach (1642­-1703), whose double-chorus cantata Merk auf, mein Herz is especially tuneful. Throw in absolutely top-notch sound from Dacapo's engineers, working in a wooden Copenhagen church that's both appropriate and intimate, and you have a delightful holiday release for 2017 and beyond. © TiVo

Argentinean composer and bandoneon master Dino Saluzzi's group includes many family members including José Maria Saluzzi on guitars, Felix "Cuchara" Saluzzi playing saxophones and clarinet, and Matias Saluzzi is featured on acoustic and electric bass, with the great Italian drummer U.T. Ghandi on hand for this session recorded at home in Buenos Aires. Juan Condori is Saluzzi at his most relaxed and instinctive. This music is deeply embedded in the folk traditions of the region, as well as the tango and the ballroom music of the country, both rural and urban in an era long gone. The title of the set refers to an old childhood friend from an indigenous family who Saluzzi refers to as "an almost magical figure." Clocking in at over 76 minutes, this is one of those dates where one piece seems to naturally flow into the next, the warmth of the ensemble, and their instinctive familiarity with one another in the title track, where what amounts to a kind of memento mori is played for the namesake. The sounds of the mountains, the sunset, the trees and the lush valleys evoke a time that has always been previous. The interplay between bandoneon and acoustic guitar is simply as mysterious as it is mournful. Different modes and melodies enter and leave and note the passage of time -- in years, not minutes -- until an absolute kind of free improvisation takes over for a tumultuous moment and Cuchara's clarinet brings it all back into the stillness again. He is the one who takes the tune out on his tenor as well, playing slow, low, growling notes. As if to underscore this, "Memoria," begins almost out of the silence of the previous track, playing an askew kind of tango that doesn't fall into three/four, but challenges the form as electric guitar and bandoneon play counterpoint with one another. "La Parecida" is almost a celebration by contrast, but it too is by turns knotty and almost pastoral. Saluzzi's bandoneon rings out a sweet song as bass, guitar, drums and acoustic guitar follow him into a dance that becomes by turns dramatic and dynamic -- especially as Cuchara enters. All of this is cyclical, as is José Maria's acoustic guitar and the soprano saxophone engaging in a melodic improvisation that underscores the song with ferocity. While Manfred Eicher's production is, as usual, signature, he is able to respond to this family band and warm things up considerably without giving up an ounce of clarity or pristine presentation. Juan Condori is one of those recordings where jazz, folk music, and improvisation all wind themselves into the notion of a complex but utterly beguiling song.© Thom Jurek /TiVo