The Swedish hitmakers' first compilation prepared for the CD format, and one of the biggest-selling releases of all time.© TiVo

ABBA Gold: Complete Edition is a curious release -- with two discs of material, it's probably too much for casual listeners seeking only ABBA's biggest chart hits (available instead on the single-disc Gold collection), while more serious fans will have already invested in the four-disc Thank You for the Music box set, rendering this package almost totally irrelevant. There's undoubtedly great music here, of course -- the problem is just that it's unlikely to fill the needs of most consumers.© Jason Ankeny /TiVo

A musical romance about a jazz pianist (Ryan Gosling) and an aspiring actress (Emma Stone) set in the City of Angels, La La Land was written and directed by Damien Chazelle, the man behind the 2014 Oscar winner Whiplash. He enlisted his former Harvard roommate Justin Hurwitz to write the songs and score for the film. The pair also worked together on Whiplash, about drummers, and on a 2009 student project that went on to receive theatrical distribution, Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench, about a jazz trumpeter. Hurwitz is joined here by lyricists Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, two veterans of musical theater (the off-Broadway musical Dogfight, TV's Smash, Broadway's Dear Evan Hansen) at the relatively young age of 31 by the time of release. (The latter is also true of Chazelle and Hurwitz.) La La Land's original soundtrack includes both songs and instrumentals, with the songs performed by a cast that also includes John Legend, fresh off his Oscar win for Selma's "Glory," and Callie Hernandez, a musician-turned-actress. Hernandez performs alongside Stone, Jessica Rothe, and Sonoya Mizuno on "Someone in the Crowd," a soaring, uptempo number with swing-era rhythms. Preceding it, the film opens with a big production number set in L.A. traffic that Hurwitz said was inspired by Jacques Demy-Michel Legrand film musicals of the '60s ("Another Day of Sun"). While listeners and moviegoers alike will find that Gosling and Stone don't quite have the singing chops of an Astaire and Rogers, their voices are warm and approachable, and their duet "A Lovely Night," in particular, is a bright charmer. Later, Legend delivers the goods on "Start a Fire," a song written in the context of a jazz musician trying to cross over to the contemporary mainstream. Score tracks range from the tender-slash-anxious piano piece "Mia & Sebastian's Theme," to the legit jazz exercise "Herman's Habit," to the Romantic tone poem "Planetarium." The film and the soundtrack wrap up with a second reprise of Gosling's "City of Stars," this time hummed by Stone, which will likely provide a feel-good earworm after the music ends.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

This is a Barbiere "di qualità, di qualità": in fact, of very great quality indeed, from Deutsche Grammophon. Recorded in London in the summer of 1971, it is one of the first meetings of Claudio Abbado and the London Symphony Orchestra. It is also the first of Alberto Zedda's philological editions of Rossini's works, whose scores have been covered over by inherited errors for over a century. Getting rid of the additions which have, quite wrongly, become traditional, means restoring certain interruptions and the fine instrumentation of the period; and above all, singing and playing without exaggerations, thanks to an innate sense for the theatre. It's a spot of spring cleaning which has restored the youth of the 24-year-old composer's masterpiece. Bravo, signor barbiere, ma bravo! It is a dream record, with singers who are well-versed in the repertoire. Everyone is right where they need to be, from Teresa Berganza's wiley and cheeky Rosina, to the refined and hard-working Figaro played by Hermann Prey, via Luigi Alva's frivolous Count and the utterly ridiculous Basilio played by the outrageous Paolo Montarsolo. We're amused by their antics, as we admire the well-oiled and unstoppable machine of Rossini's theatre, under the unceasingly inventive and thrilling baton of Claudio Abbado. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Avenged Sevenfold's first two albums had a clear influence from heavy metal, but the California combo also freely incorporated emo, screamo, and post-hardcore elements. The mixing and matching meant 2003's Waking the Fallen had as many sighing harmonies as it did harmonized guitar freakouts. And yet City of Evil, the band's third record and Warner debut, is absolutely rife with the imagery and pacing of classic metal. Look at that artwork. It features a skeletal swordsman flying a steed with steaming nostrils over the urban inferno of the title; tattoos, demons, and a skull with flapping wings adorn the lyric book. The New Wave of British Heavy Metal influence is immediate and prevalent, from the maniacally rippling percussion throughout to the triumphantly whining lead guitars in the chorus of "Blinded in Chains," or the soaring melody in "Burn It Down" that meets its match in Metallica-styled verses. The downshifts into guttural roars are largely gone, replaced by better-integrated atmospheric stretches or the tighter songcraft of a track like "Bat Country," which intersects punk and pop influences in a manner similar to My Chemical Romance. At over seven minutes, "Wicked End" is a late-album standout. Vocalist M. Shadows rips through couplets like "We've grown in numbers, six hundred sixty-six/War breaks, a sign of the end, eternally expelled/Look to the sky for knowledge, the stars align tonight," guitarists Synyster Gates and Zacky Vengeance trade off blistering solos, and there's a full choral interlude in the center, complete with an angelic host and sighing cellos. Which is all totally metal, and refreshingly unmarred by attempts to fit too many jumbled genres in. City of Evil's ballads are a little trite, and even its double-bass raging doesn't necessarily break new ground. But Avenged Sevenfold gets all the pieces right, and sound like they're having more fun here than in the scattershot approach of the first couple records.© Johnny Loftus /TiVo

Music in Golden-Age Florence 1250-1750 accompanies a book by musicologist Anthony Curtis of the same title. Yet it is of general interest as well, as shown by the album's appearance on classical best-seller lists in early 2023. Curtis' aim is to elevate the musical contributions of Florence to the same level enjoyed by its artistic and literary productions. The value of his musical selections is twofold. First, he introduces to listeners a great many composers they may not know. Second, he catches international styles as they wash over a specific city in a unique way. The album has four sections, devoted respectively to the late Middle Ages, the early and late Renaissance, and the Baroque. Each of these is mostly the province of one of the three groups present: the early music vocal-instrumental group La Morra, the late Renaissance ensemble Theatro dei Cervelli, and the pianist Francesco Corti. All are more than competent. Corti plays some little-known Baroque keyboard music from Florence, much of it anonymous, that may be the biggest find here; works such as the Pastorale mezza bigia of Francesco Feroci have a unique lyricism even if one might argue that by 1750, Florence was past its "golden age." Not all the music is Florentine; as Franco-Flemish polyphony came to rule Europe, Florence was no exception, and such composers as Heinrich Isaac and Alexander Agricola are included. No doubt, readers of the book will gain more insight into the issues involved, but Curtis' own booklet offers a useful taste. The album will be of great value to museum programmers looking to present music associated with their collections of Florentine art, and it will appeal to anyone who has been fascinated by the jewel of Tuscany.© James Manheim /TiVo

The idea is interesting on the face of it: the Duke of Ferrara, at his court in the late 16th century, maintained a "concerto segreto," secret concerts of three singers who also accompanied themselves on instruments. The three singers of La Néréide have performed a program based on this repertory, reproducing the original circumstances as far as possible. It is perhaps a trifle less effective on a recording, where they employ other instrumentalists for accompaniment, but this almost unknown repertory holds plenty of interest in itself. The music on the album is mostly by the melodiously named Luzzasco Luzzaschi, the Duke's court composer, with other works by his contemporary Luca Marenzio and the slightly later Claudio Monteverdi and Francesca Caccini (who makes the cut because her opera La liberazione di Ruggiero dall'isola di Alcina, the first opera by a woman, contains an excerpt calls "Le tre sirene"). This was progressive music for the time, including some of the sharp dissonances better known in the writing of Carlo Gesualdo and also the emerging texture in which melody was accompanied by a continuo. Thus, La Néréide captures the swirl of influences out of which early opera emerged, framing them in a vivid scene that will be unfamiliar, like the music in general, to most listeners. The three women have a strong sense of ensemble, and the engineering from the small Notre-Dame-des-Centeilles chapel suggests the music's original surroundings. A really interesting release for those fascinated by the late Renaissance. © James Manheim /TiVo

Foo Fighters were the most unexpectedly mercurial band in '90s rock, boasting a different lineup for each of their three albums. The ever-shifting membership didn't help erase the image that the group was merely a vehicle for Dave Grohl, and made it seem like Grohl was something of a dictator, at least to some biased outside observers. That's why their third record, There Is Nothing Left to Lose, comes as somewhat of a surprise. It is the first Foo Fighters album that sounds like the work of a unified, muscular band, and the first one that rocks really hard. A lot of credit should go to Adam Kasper, who produced the record with the band. There Is Nothing Left to Lose has a stripped-down sound and an immediate attack that makes even the poppier numbers rock hard. The organic, natural sound is welcome, but the album also benefits from the strongest set of songs Grohl and Foo Fighters have yet written. There are the typical strong singles, but there's no fat or filler; each track has a memorable hook or melody, and they seem all the more catchy because they're delivered with conviction and confidence. And that's why the album sounds like the first true band album Foo Fighters have made -- the group sounds assured and confident, where they previously seemed like they had something to prove. It's as if they know they have few peers in straight-ahead post-grunge hard rock, so they're willing just to lie back and turn out a solid set of 11 songs. They make it sound easy and fun, and that's what really sets them apart from their contemporaries. That and the fact that they're getting better as they're losing members and growing older, which is certainly a rarity in rock & roll.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

After two albums at the head of a rather jazzy quartet, Elina Duni is now releasing a collection of songs under her own name that evoke love as well as loss and departure. Recorded in the studios La Buissonne in the south of France in July 2017 under the artistic direction of Manfred Eicher from ECM, Partir is undeniably her most personal opus. Her most intimate too. In this album entirely written and produced on her own, the singer from Tirana plays on the piano, on the guitar and on percussions in tunes drawing from a multitude of sources, from folk to popular music: traditional songs from Albania, Kosovo, Armenia, Macedonia, Switzerland and Arabic Andalusia, but also Jacques Brel’s Je ne sais pas, Alain Oulman’s Meu Amor, Domenico Modugno’s Amara Terra Mia or even Let Us Dive In by Duni herself. To highlight her voice’s expressiveness, she has logically opted for sleek arrangements. In this context, her singing is beautifully emphasised and becomes the common theme throughout her electric repertoire. An organ that can be poignant at times, particularly when she sings about suffering, in a sort of Balkan fado, like a European blues following in the footsteps of Billie Holiday − the ultimate ambassador of human flaws, whom she admires above everything else! The listener comes out dazed by the captivating beauty of what turns out to be Elina Duni’s most stunning album so far… © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Lindsey Jordan—the 22-year-old NYC-by-way-of-Maryland singer-songwriter who looks like she's still in high school and goes by Snail Mail—has lived a lot since her 2018 debut, Lush. You can hear it all over Valentine, her second album, which is full of references to heartbreak, losing herself, a stint in rehab and a quest to change. Her wonderfully raw (no American Idol perfection and show-off runs here) voice still sounds girlish, but with a new hoarse quality. The album's stylized cover art, with a besuited Jordan posing defiantly, even hints at the more grown-up direction this time around. "Valentine" starts off kind of free-floating and loose, pouring like honey, before the chorus kicks in: "So why'd you wanna erase me, darling Valentine?" This is the new emo, as big and bold as anything by My Chemical Romance or Paramore but lashed with a 2021 world-weariness and a straightforward queer sensibility. Waxahatchee's Katie Crutchfield, in guest-writing the bio for the album, nailed it: "Valentine is somehow a jolt and a lovebuzz all at once." Against clicky drums, Jordan reveals the desire to anesthetize boredom that landed her in rehab. "On two, feels like spring/ All on my own, guess the shit just makes you boring/ Got money, don't care about sex," she sings. "Sometimes I hate her just for not being you." In fact, Jordan told Pitchfork that success forced her to grow up and reassess, lest she end up another music business tragedy. "After Lush came out, I was driving myself crazy going to every single social thing," she said. "I was like a baby in an adult job." If it sounds a bit like the story behind Julien Baker's last album, the comparisons don't end there. Like Baker, Jordan wrestles with religious guilt and compulsions on the galloping "Madonna," and that new hoarseness makes the two sound even more similar than before (it's a compliment).You can also hear traces of Soccer Mommy's breathy dreaminess in "Headlock," in which Jordan lets herself imagine how wrong things could've gone if she hadn't gotten help: "Thought I'd see her when I died/ Filled the bath up with warm water/ Nothing on the other side." "Glory" feels like punchy '90s indie pop, and the sweet and quiet acoustic ballad "c. et al." is so intimate you can hear fingers slipping on the strings as Jordan unveils a surprisingly bluesy side. "Forever (Sailing)" has a lovely cafe-jazz touch; the snare splashes like a wave gently hitting the side of a yacht, while horns play as bright as the afternoon sun. Jordan has said she grew up influenced by the male-dominated Warped Tour bands of the 2000s, and she brings things full-circle with "Mia," a grand romantic gesture ballad in the vein of "Hey There, Delilah," that feels at once fresh and timeless. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

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Programs mixing Eastern and Western materials are common enough, and even those showing the deep interwovenness of East and West, such as those of Jordi Savall, have become more common. Still, it is hard to top this release by tenor Karim Sulayman and guitarist Sean Shibe for sheer ambition. The booklet notes by Olivia Giovetti amplify the idea in a dozen different ways, with extensive reference to Edward Said and to the Arabic ancestry of the guitar, but the basic premise is that "shoehorning things into a forced binary of 'East' and 'West' eliminates a spectrum of identities more slippery than settled." Nearly everything here cuts both ways, from a Dowland song accompanied by guitar in the role of the lute (oud), to Sephardic and Arab-Andalusian songs, to a popular song by vocalist Fairuz that draws on Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez. One key idea is that musical borrowings are always filtered through the borrower in a kind of imperfect recollection, something explicitly affirmed by Benjamin Britten in connection with his Songs from the Chinese. Many of these strands converge in the Sufi Dance of Jonathan Harvey, a work that the album offers as underrated; listeners will be ready to agree. One might not necessarily choose these players as interpreters of the individual works here, but the album, as a whole, is compelling and thought-provoking.© James Manheim /TiVo