When Pink Floyd bassist-turned-solo artist Roger Waters announced plans to re-imagine the band's iconic Dark Side Of The Moon, puzzled looks rightly ensued.  He even said to Variety, "We all thought I was mad but the more we considered it, the more we thought 'isn't that the whole point?'" Waters, who wrote much of Dark Side and is no stranger to controversy, has offered that Redux's relation to the original is, "Not to supersede it or to replace it, but to remember it, and as an adjunct to it, and to progress the work of the original concept of the original record and all those original songs."  Opener "Speak to Me" now features spoken text that is actually the lyrics from "Free Four," which appears on Pink Floyd's 1972 album Obscured By Clouds: "The memories of a man in his old age, are the deeds of a man in his prime/ You shuffle in the gloom of the sick room and talk to yourself as you die/ For life is a short, warm moment and death is a long, cold rest." "On The Run" is prefaced with "Today, I awoke from a dream/ It was a revelation, almost Patmosian, whatever that means/ But that's evidently another story/ It began with some standard bullshit fight with evil/ In this case, an apparently all-powerful hooded and cloaked figure," which was something Waters wrote down after waking up from a dream in July, 2021.  A number of talented musicians join Waters, among them: Gus Seyffert on bass, guitar, backing vocals; Joey Waronker on drums; Jonathan Wilson on guitars and synth.  In the case of the original single "Money," once an indictment of capitalism, Waters slows the pace, adds cello accents and a menacing piano part, and switches into a whispery Tom Waits-Leonard Cohen conspiratorial growl. The new lyrics are about a heavyweight boxing match, the devil, and a Faustian deal. One of rock's enduring masterpieces has now become the backdrop for a spoken word piece where Waters imparts the perspective he's gained since the album's original release in 1973. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

When an intoxicated Bon Scott died by choking on his own vomit in February, 1980, no one envisaged a future for AC/DC. However, the Anglo-Australian band succeeded in finding a replacement for their legendary lead singer. Brian Johnson from the band Geordie rose to the challenge against all odds and imposed a powerful, primarily high-pitched singing style which differed greatly from that of his predecessor. With its legendary black cover, Back in Black marked the birth of a new AC/DC and contains a series of incredible tracks. On guitar were the Young brothers (Malcolm with his Gretsch and Angus with his unstoppable Gibson SG), constantly trying to outdo each other’s genius both through the effectiveness of their riffs and the precision of their solos (notably on Back in Black and You Shook Me All Night Long). As well as pure AC/DC (What Do You Do for Money Honey), they give us some thick boogie with a ZZ Top twang (Have a Drink on Me), theatrical hard rock à la Led Zep (Shake a Leg), and let us not forget the ode to the God of Blues (Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution). Cliff Williams and Phil Rudd finish the job by providing the record with a concrete bassline and strong rhythm, doing so with great finesse. Upon the release of Back in Black on July 15th, 1980, fans were, without surprise, torn on the question of Brian Johnson. Could the band go on without Bon Scott? The record’s success and the world tour that followed quelled any debate and, forty years later, no one questions the decision for a second. With 50 million units sold, Back in Black is the second best-selling album of all time, just behind a certain Thriller by Michael Jackson… © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Who's Next is not an album lacking for reissues. In addition to a deluxe edition from 2003, there have also been multiple audiophile editions and remasters of the album since its 1971 release. So what could a "super deluxe edition" possibly contain? Quite a bit, as it turns out. As even casual Who fans know, the genesis of Who's Next was as Lifehouse, a multimedia rock opera even more ambitious than Tommy. Pete Townshend had developed a bizarre, dystopian story that somehow merged his devotion to Indian guru Meher Baba, his recent fascination with synthesizers, and the idea that the only thing that could save humanity from a test-tube-bound future was "real rock 'n' roll." Yeah, the aftereffects of the '60s were wild. After some live shows at the Young Vic in London and a series of marathon recording sessions, a 16-song tracklist was finalized, but by this point, it was collectively decided—both creatively and commercially—that perhaps another concept-dense double album might not be the best studio follow-up to Tommy. So, eight Lifehouse songs were re-cut and one new song ("My Wife") was recorded and the leaner, meaner Who's Next was released in August 1971. The album was both an instant success and has become an undisputed part of the classic rock canon, thanks to the inclusion of absolutely iconic tracks like "Won't Get Fooled Again," "Baba O'Riley," and "Behind Blue Eyes."While one could make an argument that the taut and focused power of Who's Next inadvertently proved the point of the Lifehouse story (namely, that rock 'n' roll is most effective when it's at its most primal), it's important to remember that Who's Next was also a giant artistic leap forward for the Who, as it found them at the peak of their powers as a pummeling rock band and as a band willing to be experimental and artful in their approach to being a pummeling rock band. (If any evidence is needed of the group's unrivaled power, check out take 13 of "Won't Get Fooled Again" on this set, which is so immediate and electric that it could easily be mistaken for a concert performance.) While several Lifehouse tracks found their way to other Who and Townshend records, getting a sense of the contours of the project has been difficult. But this massive, 155-track set creates those lines thanks to the inclusion of multiple Townshend demos as well as recording sessions of Life House tracks that occurred both before and after the release of Who's Next, and, most notably, two freshly mixed live shows from 1971 (including one of the Young Vic shows) that provided both the energy and, in some cases the basic tracks, for the album versions. While nothing on this bursting-at-the-seams edition overrides the all-killer-no-filler approach of Who's Next, it does provide plenty of long-desired context and documentation for what made that record so powerful. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

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

Money for Nothing was originally released in 1988 and is a compilation of Dire Straits’ greatest hits that intended to celebrate their 10-year anniversary. It has sold more than 14 million copies worldwide and offers an interesting overview of their first five albums and provides a great tracklist which this contemporary version retains. The band’s signature song, Sultans of Swing, kicks the album off with panache with its vivacious guitar solos. In 1978, a far cry from the trends of disco, punk and heavy metal, Mark Knopfler’s band provided an “old-school” rock sound with Bob Dylan-esque vocals and virtuoso solos. There are plenty of standout songs on this compilation, including Romeo and Juliet (a Shakespearian reference where the rivalry of the Montague-Capulets is replaced by a sense of materialism that makes true love impossible), the epic Telegraph Road (featuring its mind-blowing guitar riff), the soft and melancholic Private Investigations (where vibraphones, marimbas and other synths interact with the rhythm section). Of course, there’s also Walk of Life, with its legendary and unmistakable synthetic sound. As for the title track, Money for Nothing, it offers an impressive satire of the average American brought to life by Sting’s exceptional vocals. With their witty lyrics, magnificent blues-rock guitar solos and iconic use of synth, Dire Straits (who separated in 1995) have undoubtedly earned a place as one of the greatest bands that rock music has ever known © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz    

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

Picking up on the ‘60s soul undercurrent of Brothers, the Black Keys smartly capitalize on their 2010 breakthrough by plunging headfirst into retro-soul on El Camino. Savvy operators that they are, the Black Keys don’t opt for authenticity à la Sharon Jones or Eli “Paperboy” Reed: they bring Danger Mouse back into the fold, the producer adding texture and glitter to the duo’s clean, lean songwriting. Apart from “Little Black Submarines,” an acoustic number that crashes into Zeppelin heaviosity as it reaches its coda, every one of the 11 songs here clocks in under four minutes, adding up to a lean 38-minute rock & roll rush, an album that’s the polar opposite of the Black Keys’ previous collaboration with Danger Mouse, the hazy 2008 platter Attack & Release. That purposely drifted into detours, whereas El Camino never takes its eye off the main road: it barrels down the highway, a modern motor in its vintage body. Danger Mouse adds glam flair that doesn’t distract from the songs, all so sturdily built they easily accommodate the shellacked layers of cheap organs, fuzz guitars, talk boxes, backing girls, tambourines, foot stomps, and handclaps. Each element harks back to something from the past -- there are Motown beats and glam rock guitars -- but everything is fractured through a modern prism: the rhythms have swing, but they’re tight enough to illustrate the duo’s allegiance to hip-hop; the gleaming surfaces are postmodern collages, hinting at collective aural memories. All this blurring of eras is in the service of having a hell of a good time. More than any other Black Keys album, El Camino is an outright party, playing like a collection of 11 lost 45 singles, each one having a bigger beat or dirtier hook than the previous side. What’s being said doesn’t matter as much as how it’s said: El Camino is all trash and flash and it’s highly addictive.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The maelstrom of hype surrounding self-modeled Hollywood pop star Lana Del Rey's 2012 breakthrough album, Born to Die, found critics, listeners, and pop culture aficionados divided about her detached, hyper-stylized approach to every aspect of her music and public persona. What managed to get overlooked by many was that Born to Die made such a polarizing impression because it actually offered something that didn't sound like anything else. Del Rey's sultry, overstated orchestral pop recast her as some sort of vaguely imagined chanteuse for a generation raised on Adderall and the Internet, with heavy doses of Twin Peaks atmosphere adding a creepy sheen to intentionally vapid (and undeniably catchy) radio hits. Follow-up album Ultraviolence shifts gears considerably, building a thick, slow-moving atmosphere with its languid songs and opulent arrangements. Gone are the big beats and glossy production that resulted in tracks like "Summertime Sadness." Instead, Ultraviolence begins with the protracted, rolling melancholia of "Cruel World," nearly seven minutes of what feels like a sad, reverb-drenched daydream. The song sets the stage for the rest of the album, which simmers with a haunted, yearning feeling but never boils over. Even the most pop-friendly moments here are steeped in patient, jazz-inflected moodiness, as with the sad-eyed longing of "Shades of Cool" or the unexpected tempo changes that connect the slinky verses of single "West Coast" to their syrupy, swaying choruses. Production from the Black Keys' Dan Auerbach might have something to do with the metered restraint that permeates the album, with songs like "Sad Girl" carrying some of the slow-burning touches of greasy blues-rock Auerbach is known for. A few puzzling moments break up the continuity of the album. The somewhat hooky elements of "Brooklyn Baby" can't quite rise above its disjointed song structure and cringeable lyrics that could be taken either as mockery of the hipster lifestyle or self-parody. "Money Power Glory" steps briefly out of the overall dreamscape of the album, sounding like a tossed-off outtake from the Born to Die sessions. Despite these mild missteps, Ultraviolence thrives for the most part in its density, meant clearly to be absorbed as an entire experience, with even its weaker pieces contributing to a mood that's consumptive, sexy, and as eerie as big-budget pop music gets. Del Rey's loudest detractors criticized her music as a hollow, cliché-ridden product designed by the music industry and lacking the type of substance that makes real pop stars pop. Ultraviolence asserts that as a songwriter, she has complete control of her craft, deciding on songs far less flashy or immediate but still uniquely captivating. As these songs shift her sound into more mature and nuanced places, it becomes clear that every deadpan affectation, lispy lyric, and overblown allusion to desperate living has been a knowing move in the creation of the strange, beguiling character -- and sonic experience -- we know as Lana Del Rey.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

One of the great new wave/early MTV records, She's So Unusual is a giddy mix of self-confidence, effervescent popcraft, unabashed sentimentality, subversiveness, and clever humor. In short, it's a multifaceted portrait of a multifaceted talent, an artist that's far more clever than her thin, deliberately girly voice would indicate. Then again, Lauper's voice suits her musical persona, since its chirpiness adds depth, or reconfigures the songs, whether it's the call to arms of "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" or the tearjerking "Time After Time." Lauper is at her very best on the first side, all of which were singles or received airplay, and this collection of songs -- "Money Changes Everything," "Girls," "When You Were Mine," "Time," "She Bop," "All Through the Night" -- is astonishing in its consistency, so strong that it makes the remaining tracks -- all enjoyable, but rather pedestrian -- charming by their association with songs so brilliantly alive. If Lauper couldn't maintain this level of consistency, it's because this captured her persona better than anyone could imagine -- when a debut captures a personality so well, let alone a personality so tied to its time, the successive work can't help but pale in comparison. Still, when it's captured as brightly and brilliantly as it is here, it does result in a debut that retains its potency, long after its production seems a little dated.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

With Dan Auerbach now a studio owner and label chief, it's natural to wonder how he is finding the time to write quality songs and record with his original band. Or focus enough to make another masterpiece like 2004's Rubber Factory or 2011's El Camino. That situation may have influenced the title of this collection, but any fears about consistency or the way forward are dispelled by the opening riff rocker, "Wild Child." The vintage Black Keys three chord tromper "Your Team is Looking Good" also rocks convincingly, and they get back to one of their core strengths—Mississippi hill country blues stomp, which they celebrated on their last album, Delta Kream—in "For the Love of Money." In a strange turn, the biggest guest here, ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons isn't asked to do much in the mid-tempo "Good Love," which he co-wrote.  Recorded at Auerbach's Easy Eye Sound studio in Nashville over a five-month period in summer and fall of 2021, Dropout Boogie was engineered by M. Allen Parker and Caleb VanBuskirk and mixed by the A-list talents of Tchad Blake and Tom Elmhirst. Percussionist Sam Bacco adds variety to Patrick Carney's drumming. A deceptively capable vocalist, Auerbach takes a very credible stab at writing and singing a ballad in "How Long" which is fleshed out by a harpsichord and backup vocals by Cincinnati's Andy Gabbard (Thee Shams, Buffalo Killers) who also tours as The Black Keys' second guitarist. Auerbach sings incendiary lyrics, "If we make it to your town/ We're gonna burn the damn thing down" in odd, leisurely fashion in the decidedly non-menacing, "Burn the Damn Thing Down." And near its end, "Baby I'm Coming Home" breaks into the signature riff from the Allman Brothers, "Midnight Rider."  As the album's second half winds down, so does the strength of the tunes, but you'll still find the same fuzzy guitars, big beats and layered vocals that have made their sound special.  If not essential Black Keys, the lower key Dropout Boogie is at least more of what's made them one of the last major rock bands left alive.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

In 2015, David Gilmour decided to undertake a series of concerts in the world’s oldest venues. A year later, the guitarist from Pink Floyd becomes the first artist since the gladiators in 79 AD to give a concert before an audience in Pompeii’s amphitheater! It was a trip back to the Italian city for him, as he had already performed there in 1971 during the shooting of Adrian Maben’s movie Pink Floyd: Live At Pompeii… In the shadow of the Vesuvius, David Gilmour plays in the more than legendary venue on July 7th and 8th, 2016 and revisits songs that have always been there his whole life, in solo as well as with Floyd. And let’s not forget the new interpretations of The Great Gig In The Sky from the album Dark Side Of The Moon, rarely performed in solo by Gilmour. © CM/Qobuz

On his 2023 album I Thought I Was Better Than You, Baxter Dury turns his trademark louche rambler persona with a line on late-night, neon-slicked grooves one twist to the left. With the help of producer Paul White -- who had worked with Danny Brown and Charli XCX in the past -- Dury turns his gaze to the privileged, fame-adjacent upbringing he enjoyed/suffered and sets his self-lacerating musings to a R&B- and hip-hop-inspired sound. To get the desired effect, White took Dury's homemade demos and gave them a polish. The result is a smoother, more relaxed backdrop for Dury's spleen venting and toxic reminiscences that focus on the strange benefits that came with being the son of a well-known musical icon. He doesn't spare himself much here, and the results can be a little bleak, something Dury knows all too well, and as in the past, much of the sonic landscape is taken up by sweetly sung choruses. These angelic commentaries are delivered here by a new cast of characters that includes Eska Mtungwazi, JGrrey, and Madeline Hart. They play their roles perfectly, and Dury's eye for collaborators is as sharp as his wit. As usual, that's very, very sharp, and to that end there are a sackful of memorable lines, rhymes, and asides to be found on the record. "Burger King trousers" and "kettlebells in the stairwell" are two fine examples of the kind of language not usually found on pop records, but they are the kind of gems that drop from Dury's lips like they were nothing. The choice this time out to adopt more of a hip-hop and R&B influence was a good one, and he and White make it work without lapsing into rip-off territory. Though his passion for the sound is evident, Dury never seems like a poser. As he says, he might want to sound like Frank Ocean, but he always ends up sounding like Ian. Dury, that is. And like himself, now. In fact, after releasing as many excellent albums as he has over the years, and forging a path that's truly unique despite the resurgence of blokes and birds talking over indie rock, Baxter Dury deserves to be considered fully free of his father's shadow. Maybe after releasing this subtly brilliant and pleasingly scathing album, he'll finally believe it too. © Tim Sendra /TiVo

Since his appearance on the French jazz scene in the early 2000s, Baptiste Trotignon has imposed himself as one of the most brilliant pianists of his generation. He has multiplied the prestigious collaborations (Aldo Romano, Stefano Di Battista, Brad Mehldau…) and personal projects of various formats and registers, from pure solo work (Solo, Body And Soul) to quintets (Share). Alongside this, is the neo-classical piano concerto Different Spaces with Nicholas Angelich as a soloist, as well as an album of “songs” (Song, Song, Song). However, it is without a doubt in the intimate and egalitarian setting of a trio, which he revisits regularly as if to recharge his batteries, that he displays the most spontaneous part of his talent. His inaugural album Fluide, recorded in 2000 with Clovis Nicolas on bass and Tony Rabeson on drums, was followed by Hit in 2014 with Thomas Bramerie and Jeff Ballard. This time it’s accompanied by Matt Penman and Greg Hutchinson that he creates this particularly joyous new album, made up entirely of covers of great English pop classics. Merrily going from The Beatles to Radiohead, from Pink Floyd to The Rolling Stones, from The Police and Led Zeppelin to Elvis Costello and even Robert Wyatt, Baptiste Trotignon highlights his dazzling style that mixes velocity with rigour. He fully plays the lyricism and virtuosity card in intense, energetic sequences, full of fluttering arabesques, always articulated with great legibility and constant attention to the melody. Far from a slightly haughty exercise in style that would overcomplicate simplistic thematic material with clever reharmonizations, the trio pays complete homage to the melodic energy and sumptuousness of these songs that already belong to our collective imaginary, in doing so creating a record that is as lovingly audacious as it is perpetually inventive. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz