Taking the first, electric side of Bringing It All Back Home to its logical conclusion, Bob Dylan hired a full rock & roll band, featuring guitarist Michael Bloomfield, for Highway 61 Revisited. Opening with the epic "Like a Rolling Stone," Highway 61 Revisited careens through nine songs that range from reflective folk-rock ("Desolation Row") and blues ("It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry") to flat-out garage rock ("Tombstone Blues," "From a Buick 6," "Highway 61 Revisited"). Dylan had not only changed his sound, but his persona, trading the folk troubadour for a streetwise, cynical hipster. Throughout the album, he embraces druggy, surreal imagery, which can either have a sense of menace or beauty, and the music reflects that, jumping between soothing melodies to hard, bluesy rock. And that is the most revolutionary thing about Highway 61 Revisited -- it proved that rock & roll needn't be collegiate and tame in order to be literate, poetic, and complex.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

His first record sans the Heartbreakers, Full Moon Fever is a career-definer for Petty straight from the opening notes of "Free Fallin." With bright guitar chords, the singer-songwriter's "And I'm free" howl, and backing vocals that crest like a Pacific wave, the song — indeed, the whole album — evokes the underlying melancholy of sunny Los Angeles. Full Moon Fever is also a tribute to Petty’s idols. Producer and co-writer Jeff Lynne of ELO layers on his signature pop polish, while leaving Petty’s raw-nerve vocals exposed. George Harrison’s harmonies give the defiant anthem "I Won’t Back Down" unexpected sweetness. Del Shannon gets a shout-out on the mischievous "Runnin' Down a Dream" — propelled by Heartbreaker Mike Campbell’s hellfire-and-brimstone guitar — and Roy Orbison hams up the chorus for the organ-chugging weirdness that is "Zombie Zoo." There’s even a true-blue cover of the Byrds’ "Feel A Whole Lot Better." But the star here, as ever, is Petty: cracking jokes on the jangling "Yer So Bad", tugging at the heartstrings with lullabye "Alright for Now" or snarling on the spaced-out "Love is a Long Road." © Qobuz

As much as jazz musicians love to do it, the Christmas album exercise can quickly turn stale. Especially when you opt for a repertoire essentially composed of hits like Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Oh Christmas Tree, Il est né le divin enfant, Petit Papa Noël, Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow, Silent Night and Jingle Bells. But here, Ibrahim Maalouf has managed to create an impeccable record that gives his trumpet an even better showcase than usual. The starting point of the project is a set of very personal values. "It's an album of 25 great Christmas standards and 3 new songs that I wrote to celebrate both my son's very first Christmas and my grandmother Odette's very last one last year. My memories of Christmas are full of wonderful moments and I wanted to record the album in a way that would capture the magic of those moments.“For this classical, touching effort, Maalouf brought in three friends: guitarist François Delporte, pianist Frank Woeste and choir director Sofi Jeannin, who has selected eight singers with angelic voices. The whole group met in two different recording locations: Armand Amar's Babel studios in Montreuil, where Ibrahim Maalouf worked on his first albums, and the Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre church, the oldest church in Paris, a few metres from Notre-Dame, where his father was sacristan in the 1960s; it was also where the trumpeter got engaged and married...Bolstered by all these strong symbols, First Noël moves forward with simplicity and humility, emphasising the melodies above all, without any kind of Hollywood arrangements. "After having recorded so many albums, I felt that the time had come to set down my version of these great Christmas classics, giving them a less childish, more musical dimension, and a more spiritual aspect as well: but at the same time preserving their necessary and subtle fragility as music for children, and as great classics known and sung worldwide.” The end result is a soothing, dreamlike, fraternal and universal journey. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

This 2019 collection reimagines some of Bing Crosby's best-loved holiday favorites. Using the original vocal takes, the album features newly recorded and scored music by the London Symphony Orchestra, bringing a fresh take on these classic Christmas songs.© Rich Wilson /TiVo

Christmas is vocalist Michael Bublé's first full-length holiday-themed album since his 2003 EP Let It Snow. As with that album, Christmas features Bublé backed by small ensembles as well as his big band and orchestra, and includes a handful of classic Christmas songs. In that sense, the album is a rather old-school affair, with Bublé in prime Bing Crosby-meets-Dean Martin vocal style tackling such chestnuts as "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," "Silent Night," and "I'll Be Home for Christmas." There are also some fine, contemporary, if still retro-sounding, pop moments here including Bublé's duet with the British female pop trio the Puppini Sisters on "Jingle Bells," and his inspired, slightly melancholy reworking of Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You." Ultimately, Christmas is a warm and inviting album that showcases Bublé's impeccable vocal chops.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Before Big Thief became indie-folk-rock fans’ favourite band, their singer Adrianne Lenker released three solo albums: Stages of the Sun (2006), Hours Were the Birds (2014) and Abysskiss (2018). This time around, the folk fairy does even more with even less. Alone with her acoustic guitar, she recorded this double album (available separately under the simple titles Songs and Instrumentals) in a cabin in the Berkshires in Massachusetts. You can hear the wood crackling. Birds and insects as well. And even her fingers sliding around on her strings. With every second, the real world slips away a little more. And her fragile voice is like a magnet that pulls you into every melody... She explores classic themes like loneliness, break-up and regret with a hypnotising, stripped-back sound that brings the likes of Vashti Bunyan, Judee Sill, Elliott Smith and Joni Mitchell (obvious influences for the Big Thief singer). Adrianne Lenker often uses repetition, like on the moving song Come where you can hear the rain outside. Sometimes, it’s space that she focuses on (My Angel). Each song is soft and intimate. The two long instrumental pieces (21 and 16 minutes) that make up the second part require more attention but prove to be totally in line with the songs on the first record. You’re left stunned by just how refined both albums are. A sublime work that will easily stand the test of time. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Much like the band that rises above the icy, raging waters in Gavin Bryars' pivotal 1970s experimental piece The Sinking of the Titanic, Natalie Mering is fully aware of everything that's gone wrong with the world on her fourth Weyes Blood album. And yet she doesn't let the trappings of technology and our woeful alone/together world pull her down into the depths of an unshakeable depression. The singer/multi-instrumentalist/producer is too busy making widescreen anthems instead, ones that ride the line between AM radio dials and slightly more alien sounds: the queasy intro of "A Lot's Gonna Change," the gurgling synths of "Movies," the palate-cleansing ambient pads of "Titanic Rising." Sweet but never saccharine, tracks like "Something to Believe" and "Wild Time" are downright triumphant by the time they fade to black. They reach for the heavens with their hooks even when they let their guard down lyrically. Because if the ship's going down, at least we're all going down together right? © Andrew Parks / Qobuz

Released in November 1971, just six months after his solo debut, Rory Gallagher's second album was the summation of all that he'd promised in the wake of Taste's collapse, and the blueprint for most of what he'd accomplish over the next two years of recording. Largely overlooked by posterity's haste to canonize his next album, Live! In Europe, Deuce finds Gallagher torn between the earthy R&B of "Used to Be," a gritty blues fed through by some viciously unrestrained guitar playing, and the jokey, country-billy badinage of "Don't Know Where I'm Going," a too-short snippet that marries Bob Dylan to Ronnie Lane and reminds listeners just how broad Gallagher's sense of humor was. Reflecting the laid-back feel of Rory Gallagher, "I'm Not Awake Yet" is a largely acoustic piece driven as much by Gerry McAvoy's gutbucket bass as by Gallagher's intricate playing; "There's a Light", too, plays to Gallagher's sensitive side, while stating his mastery of the guitar across a protracted solo that isn't simply spellbinding in its restraint, it also has the effect of adding another voice to the proceedings. But such notions of plaintive melodicism are utterly exorcised by the moments of highest drama, a sequence that peaks with the closing, broiling "Crest of a Wave." With bass set on stun, the drums a turbulent wall of sound, and Gallagher's guitar a sonic switchblade, it's a masterpiece of aggressive dynamics, the sound of a band so close to its peak that you can almost touch the electricity. Of course, that peak would come during 1972-1973 with the albums upon which Gallagher's reputation is today most comfortably set. Deuce, however, doesn't simply set the stage for the future, it strikes the light that ignites the entire firestorm.© Dave Thompson /TiVo

After a stretch of uncertainty and stagnation, blink-182 returned with their seventh LP, California, their best in 15 years. The debut from "blink v3.0" features new guitarist Matt Skiba, the Alkaline Trio frontman who replaced founding member Tom DeLonge in 2015. Skiba joins Mark Hoppus and Travis Barker on an album that is both a return to form and an admirable maturation of the band's classic pop-punk sound. Whereas 2003's self-titled album had its moments, the 2011 follow-up Neighborhoods was an uninspired, stale comeback from a trio that had lost its heart and sense of fun. In the end, they sounded like imitations of younger bands they helped inspire. With California, blink-182 are free from the drama, reinjecting much-needed vitality and spirit back into the catalog. Fortunately, this is not merely blink-meets-Alkaline. Skiba has assimilated, while introducing new angles to the longtime Hoppus-Barker relationship with deeper vocals and bolder guitar. Those trademark blink riffs and "na-na-na"s remain intact ("Sober"), which should please the faithful. While the loss of DeLonge's nasally whine is a departure -- for better or worse -- the harmonies remain tight between Hoppus and Skiba ("Rabbit Hole," "Los Angeles"). Producer and Goldfinger frontman John Feldmann -- the first outside man since longtime producer Jerry Finn passed in 2008 -- received songwriting credit on every track and captured blink's essence and tightened their focus. Lead single "Bored to Death" kicked off the new era with a reminder of blink's appeal: sunny harmonies, a catchy melody, and a massive singalong chorus. The pogo-ing "She's Out of Her Mind" is "The Rock Show" redux, and "The Only Thing That Matters" is a raucous throwback for the fans who miss the Raynor-era. And yet, while these are all nods to the past, California doesn't wallow in by-the-numbers nostalgia. It's not a desperate grasp at youth and faded glory, but rather a reflective look back and an expert execution of what they do best. In addition to those quintessential blink hallmarks, there are many big moments on California conceived with outside collaborators. Faint turntable scratching courtesy of DJ Spider can be heard on "Sober," an arena-ready anthem co-written by Fall Out Boy's Patrick Stump. David Hodges (Evanescence, Avril Lavigne) contributes to a trio of tracks in the album's mid-section, including another big tune, the pounding "Kings of the Weekend." Boys Like Girls' Martin Johnson assists on the title track, a bittersweet love letter to their home state. Whether it's DeLonge's absence or an actual maturation, there's something less bratty and sophomoric about California. For the guys who once ran around naked for a video and featured a porn star on an album cover, this is actually a welcome shift, evidence of natural development and an eye to the future. Even with the inclusion of a pair of short, juvenile ditties, blink-182 can't fool anyone. The guys have grown up and the results are as catchy and enjoyable as anything they ever did in their youthful heyday.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

As the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967) had done a year earlier, Super Session (1968) initially ushered in several new phases in rock & roll's concurrent transformation. In the space of months, the soundscape of rock shifted radically from short, danceable pop songs to comparatively longer works with more attention to technical and musical subtleties. Enter the unlikely all-star triumvirate of Al Kooper (piano/organ/ondioline/vocals/guitars), Mike Bloomfield (guitar), and Stephen Stills (guitar) -- all of whom were concurrently "on hiatus" from their most recent engagements. Kooper had just split after masterminding the groundbreaking Child Is Father to the Man (1968) version of Blood, Sweat & Tears. Bloomfield was fresh from a stint with the likewise brass-driven Electric Flag, while Stills was late of Buffalo Springfield and still a few weeks away from a full-time commitment to David Crosby and Graham Nash. Although the trio never actually performed together, the long-player was notable for idiosyncratically featuring one side led by the team of Kooper/Bloomfield and the other by Kooper/Stills. The band is fleshed out with the powerful rhythm section of Harvey Brooks (bass) and Eddie Hoh (drums) as well as Barry Goldberg (electric piano) on "Albert's Shuffle" and "Stop." The Chicago blues contingency of Bloomfield, Brooks, and Goldberg provide a perfect outlet for the three Kooper/Bloomfield originals -- the first of which commences the project with the languid and groovy "Albert's Shuffle." The guitarist's thin tone cascades with empathetic fluidity over the propelling rhythms. Kooper's frisky organ solo alternately bops and scats along as he nudges the melody forward. The same can be said of the interpretation of "Stop," which had originally been a minor R&B hit for Howard Tate. Curtis Mayfield's "Man's Temptation" is given a soulful reading that might have worked equally well as a Blood, Sweat & Tears cover. At over nine minutes, "His Holy Modal Majesty" is a fun trippy waltz and includes one of the most extended jams on the Kooper/Bloomfield side. The track also features the hurdy-gurdy and Eastern-influenced sound of Kooper's electric ondioline, which has a slightly atonal and reedy timbre much like that of John Coltrane's tenor sax. Because of some health issues, Bloomfield was unable to complete the recording sessions and Kooper contacted Stills. Immediately his decidedly West Coast sound -- which alternated from a chiming Rickenbacker intonation to a faux pedal steel -- can be heard on the upbeat version of Bob Dylan's "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry." One of the album's highlights is the scintillating cover of "Season of the Witch." There is an undeniable synergy between Kooper and Stills, whose energies seems to aurally drive the other into providing some inspired interaction. Updating the blues standard "You Don't Love Me" allows Stills to sport some heavily distorted licks, which come off sounding like Jimi Hendrix. This is one of those albums that seems to get better with age and that gets the full reissue treatment every time a new audio format comes out. This is a super session indeed.© Lindsay Planer /TiVo

Leon Russell's accolades are monumental in a number of categories, from songwriting (he wrote Joe Cocker's "Delta Lady") to session playing (with the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan, just to name a few) to his solo work. Unfortunately, it's the last category that never really attracted as much attention as it should have, despite a multitude of blues-based gospel recordings and piano-led, Southern-styled rock albums released throughout the 1970s. Leon Russell and the Shelter People is a prime example of Russell's instrumental dexterity and ability to produce some energetic rock & roll. Poignant and expressive tracks such as "Of Thee I Sing," "Home Sweet Oklahoma," and "She Smiles Like a River" all lay claim to Russell's soulful style and are clear-cut examples of the power that he musters through his spirited piano playing and his voice. His Dylan covers are just as strong, especially "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" and "It Takes a Lot to Laugh," while "Love Minus Zero/No Limit" and "It's a Hard Rain Gonna Fall" have him sounding so forceful, they could have been Russell's own. A hearty, full-flavored gospel sound is amassed thanks to both the Shelter People and the Tulsa Tops, who back Russell up on most of the tracks, but it's Russell alone that makes "The Ballad of Mad Dogs and Englishmen" such an expressive piece and the highlight of the album. On the whole, Leon Russell and the Shelter People is an entertaining and more importantly, revealing exposition of Russell's music when he was in his prime. The album that followed, 1972's Carney, is an introspective piece which holds up a little better from a songwriting standpoint, but this album does a better job at bearing his proficiency as a well-rounded musician.© Mike DeGagne /TiVo

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It's not that the Offspring sound behind the times on their eighth album, Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace -- it's that they sound disconnected from it. They may rant about George W. Bush's America and all the crass consumerism accompanying it, but they don't seem to realize that Coldplay beat them to a power ballad called "Fix You" just three years ago, offering a different melody but the same sentiment carrying the same title (to make matters worse, another of the album's power ballads, "A Lot Like You," opens with a surge straight out of "Clocks"). They snipe at dance beats on "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid," not quite caring that the alienated adolescents who comprise the core of their audience now don't quite care whether anybody puts disco in their punk or not. This sideswipe at dance -- complete with a "dance f***er dance" chorus -- is par for the course for the Offspring, who always seems to get a neo-novelty tune out of some rhythm or fad they don't like, so things haven't changed, which is part of the problem, as the band operates in a bubble. Nothing changes their attitude or their attack, as they still favor frenzied downstroked guitars and shout-along choruses that have the inevitable effect of having all the songs kind of blend together. Still, the Offspring can't quite hide the passing of time, as they start to drift into power ballads and angsty anthems like "Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?," which feels tailor-made for a CW TV show. Such softening of their stance illustrates that it's impossible to avoid maturity, but the band would be better off injecting some maturity within the music, finding a different rhythm outside of its pummeling eighth notes, or maybe mustering a protest deeper than "S*** is F***** UP." Without this kind of maturity, the Offspring wind up offering plenty of rage but not much grace.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo