In the 20th century’s final decade, so-called alternative rock—an emphatic repudiation of arena rock and hair bands—was changing the definition of rock music forever. But did anyone in 1991 ever dream that Nirvana's Nevermind, which made alt-rock mainstream and immortalized the word "grunge" would become the last great rock record? With the music world too fragmented today to ever empower a Nevermind or even a Thriller, Nirvana's opus remains, along with Metallica's "Black Album" released the same year (and technically metal), the last rock album to sell somewhere over 20 million copies while becoming a widely beloved and influential landmark. But does all that mean a celebration with another multi-volume boxed set is needed every ten years? For Kurt Cobain fans the answer is obviously, yes please! And with the 30th anniversary set, they won't be disappointed; along with the remastered original album, four live shows have been officially released. Although they have a similar energy and nearly identical set lists that focus on Nevermind, the live shows, some of which have been famously bootlegged, do differ in sound quality. While the 1991 Amsterdam show has good depth and a natural resonance, a show from the same year in Del Mar, California has some speed issues, and while better than the original bootleg, is still dynamically limited. The 1992 Melbourne, Australia show has the best sound quality but a Tokyo show from the same year is clearly the worst sounding, obviously an audience tape that despite sonic restoration work has the familiar limited, recorded-in-a-jar fidelity of most cassette bootlegs. For fans of the original record—and also improved fidelity—this version of Nevermind, newly remastered from the original half-inch stereo analog tapes by Randy Merrill at Sterling Sound, can now be heard in high resolution 192kHz 24-bit sound. While the original Nevermind, produced by Butch Vig, recorded by Vig, Craig Doubet and Jeff Sheehan, and mixed by Andy Wallace was never a sonic disaster, the new high resolution is a noticeable improvement, though maybe one that Kurt Cobain wouldn't appreciate. Uncomfortable with the album's success and his subsequent celebrity, Cobain, who famously called the music on Nevermind, "the Knack and the Bay City Rollers getting molested by Black Flag and Black Sabbath," routinely criticized the original album as overproduced and not punk rock enough. The album's sonics have also been controversial with listeners, some of whom agreed with Cobain that compared to the band's 1989 debut Bleach, it was too accessible, too punchy, and ruined by what they perceived to be unnecessary gloss. Diametrically opposed though were the alt-rock haters for whom Nevermind was too sludgy, too loud, and disgustingly ill-defined. The crisper sound of the new high resolution transfer accentuates the clean pop production Wallace gave to the original album, and which despite Cobain's misgivings, played no small part in the album's massive success. Clarity, even when played loud, is where the high resolution is most obvious. And then there are the details. The swirling, side-to-side guitar part in "Come as You Are," for example, has never been clearer or more assertive. "Breed," the album's hit that never was, has been cleaned up in ways that Cobain would surely have thought were too pretty. His guitar part, which was repeatedly panned left and right, is more forward and defined. Dave Grohl's cymbals on the opening of "Lithium" have the edge of a jazz record. And in "On a Plain" Cobain's doubled vocals and the overdubs where he sings harmony with himself have never been clearer. Overall, the high resolution Nevermind has a lighter tone, an airier presence. Does a cleaner sounding Nevermind betray the band's punk rock intentions or subvert their grunge cred? A new Nevermind controversy is born. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

In the 20th century’s final decade, so-called alternative rock—an emphatic repudiation of arena rock and hair bands—was changing the definition of rock music forever. But did anyone in 1991 ever dream that Nirvana's Nevermind, which made alt-rock mainstream and immortalized the word "grunge" would become the last great rock record? With the music world too fragmented today to ever empower a Nevermind or even a Thriller, Nirvana's opus remains, along with Metallica's "Black Album" released the same year (and technically metal), the last rock album to sell somewhere over 20 million copies while becoming a widely beloved and influential landmark. But does all that mean a celebration with another multi-volume boxed set is needed every ten years? For Kurt Cobain fans the answer is obviously, yes please! And with the 30th anniversary set, they won't be disappointed; along with the remastered original album, four live shows have been officially released. Although they have a similar energy and nearly identical set lists that focus on Nevermind, the live shows, some of which have been famously bootlegged, do differ in sound quality. While the 1991 Amsterdam show has good depth and a natural resonance, a show from the same year in Del Mar, California has some speed issues, and while better than the original bootleg, is still dynamically limited. The 1992 Melbourne, Australia show has the best sound quality but a Tokyo show from the same year is clearly the worst sounding, obviously an audience tape that despite sonic restoration work has the familiar limited, recorded-in-a-jar fidelity of most cassette bootlegs. For fans of the original record—and also improved fidelity—this version of Nevermind, newly remastered from the original half-inch stereo analog tapes by Randy Merrill at Sterling Sound, can now be heard in high resolution 192kHz 24-bit sound. While the original Nevermind, produced by Butch Vig, recorded by Vig, Craig Doubet and Jeff Sheehan, and mixed by Andy Wallace was never a sonic disaster, the new high resolution is a noticeable improvement, though maybe one that Kurt Cobain wouldn't appreciate. Uncomfortable with the album's success and his subsequent celebrity, Cobain, who famously called the music on Nevermind, "the Knack and the Bay City Rollers getting molested by Black Flag and Black Sabbath," routinely criticized the original album as overproduced and not punk rock enough. The album's sonics have also been controversial with listeners, some of whom agreed with Cobain that compared to the band's 1989 debut Bleach, it was too accessible, too punchy, and ruined by what they perceived to be unnecessary gloss. Diametrically opposed though were the alt-rock haters for whom Nevermind was too sludgy, too loud, and disgustingly ill-defined. The crisper sound of the new high resolution transfer accentuates the clean pop production Wallace gave to the original album, and which despite Cobain's misgivings, played no small part in the album's massive success. Clarity, even when played loud, is where the high resolution is most obvious. And then there are the details. The swirling, side-to-side guitar part in "Come as You Are," for example, has never been clearer or more assertive. "Breed," the album's hit that never was, has been cleaned up in ways that Cobain would surely have thought were too pretty. His guitar part, which was repeatedly panned left and right, is more forward and defined. Dave Grohl's cymbals on the opening of "Lithium" have the edge of a jazz record. And in "On a Plain" Cobain's doubled vocals and the overdubs where he sings harmony with himself have never been clearer. Overall, the high resolution Nevermind has a lighter tone, an airier presence. Does a cleaner sounding Nevermind betray the band's punk rock intentions or subvert their grunge cred? A new Nevermind controversy is born. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

One of the underrated aspects of Drake's charm is his prowess as a vocalist. Paired with the right mood or set of lyrics, he can conjure up a pretty convincing case that he's something of an R&B visionary. On the albums leading up to 2022's Honestly, Nevermind, Drake seemed to mostly forget his status, focusing mainly on rapping over dragging trap beats and only rarely showing off his skills as a singer. Amazingly, at some point prior to the recording of the album, trap fever seems to have broken and some different flavors finally started to creep back into the mix. Working with an array of producers including longtime ally 40, Carnage, and Black Coffee, Drake touches on new sounds like house music and Baltimore club, delves into guitar jazz fleetingly, and only invites a couple guests along to contribute instead of the usual cast of hundreds. It makes for one of his most varied and interesting records, with a melancholy, slightly defensive lyrical viewpoint that's familiar to all who have ever heard a Drake song, but here it feels somehow like the words cut a little closer to the bone. Perhaps it's the fact that he keeps the focus pointed directly at himself and doesn't bring anyone else in to distract from his litany of desperate heartbreaks, bitter revenge fantasies, hurt feelings, and romantic betrayals. Unlike his recent albums where the listener might have felt locked in with no escape from the darker side of Drake's psyche thanks to the monochromatic production, here one could choose to ignore the deluge of self-pity and focus instead on the rollicking late-night house jams ("Texts Go Green"), slippery club ballads ("Flight's Booked" and the sample-damaged, Mr. Fingers-sounding "Massive"), bubbly summer tunes ("Down Hill"), and the slinky "Tie That Binds," which brings just a touch of Latin soul to the proceedings. Of course, it's never exactly fun, since there is a thick coat of ghostly synth pads and backing vocals pulling the clouds over any hint of sun. Nobody really comes to a Drake record for fun, though; they come for a mood, and this record delivers it fully, only wrapped in some new, almost bright threads. There are a few tracks where Drake does some rapping: the pumping Baltimore-influenced "Sticky" is the most fun, while the album-ending, 21 Savage-featuring "Jimmy Cooks" is typical boasty Drake, but since it's an outlier, it has a little more impact than when it's surrounded by 20 more of them. Honestly, Nevermind is a welcome development in the Drake saga, a left turn off what was starting to seem like an endless stretch of trap-heavy highway. The destination is still sad and self-involved, but at least the scenery is colorful and never boring. © Tim Sendra /TiVo

Continuing their high-brow path towards avant-garde guitar music and away from their late '80s punk-influenced style of controlled cacophony, Sonic Youth have continued to make it difficult for fans to follow their evolving style of influential alternative rock. With the aid of renowned producer Jim O'Rourke, this iconic group has stripped away much of the murky sound that polluted its late '80s masterpieces such as Daydream Nation and Sister. This new style of clean production on NYC Ghosts & Flowers also differs from the group's early '90s sound partly attributed to Butch Vig on colorful albums such as Dirty and Experimental Jet Set, Trash & No Star, where Vig masterfully juxtaposed the group's knack for noise with his gift for salient production. Similar to Experimental Jet Set, Trash & No Star, Sonic Youth have again written a collection of shorter songs, focused primarily upon lyrics and song structuring rather than guitars. Thurston Moore's songs dominate this record, sounding unlike anything he has ever written. These songs seem to evolve spontaneously, moving into and then out of Moore's Ginsberg-like beatnik vocals. Songs such as "Free City Rhymes" and "Small Flowers Crack Concrete" sound like the music from SYR 1 and SYR 2 accompanied by subtly spoken poetry, focused more on enunciation than melody. More than ever, it seems as if Moore has abandoned his goofball charisma of the past for his new status as an ambitious poet looking to be respected as much for his words as his guitar. Kim Gordon's contribution, "Nevermind (What Was It Anyway)," stands above all other songs on the album as the only song with a memorable yet kooky vocal melody: "Boys go to Jupiter to more stupider/ Girls go to Mars to become rock stars." Contributed by Lee Ranaldo, the title track of this album serves as the guitarist's best lyrical piece to date and also as the album's grand finale, stretching to nearly ten minutes of slow building guitar intensity. In the end, this Sonic Youth album will appeal to those attracted to the group's mellow side -- a subtle side of the group more interested in collective contemplation than electrifying energy. Never before has the group sounded so consciously mature. For some fans, this album will sound refreshing, but for the many Sonic Youth fans still in love with the confrontational attitude of "Death Valley '69," the charged feel of "Teenage Riot," or the epic scope of "The Diamond Sea" this album may sound tired. © Jason Birchmeier /TiVo

It’s to Johann Sebastian Bach’s wild-child second son, Carl Philipp Emmanuel Bach, that Nevermind – flautist Anna Besson, harpsichordist Jean Rondeau, viola da gamba Robin Pharo and viola player Louis Creac’h – have turned for their recording with Alpha Classics; and while there already exist some eminently classy recordings of this repertoire (including from the likes of keyboardists Andreas Staier and Christopher Hogwood and their respective friends), these new readings can stand as tall alongside them as you’d expect from four musicians representing some of the cream of the younger generation’s early music specialists. Carl Philipp’s three Quartets were composed during 1788, the last year of his life, for Sara Itzig-Levy, a Berlin salon owner and keyboard virtuoso who was the favourite pupil of Carl Philipp’s older brother Wilhelm Friedemann, and later Felix Mendelssohn’s great aunt. She and Carl Philipp would have met during his years at the Berlin court of Frederick the Great, where on the one hand he found himself at the centre of one of eighteenth-century Europe’s most cosmopolitan and artistically exciting hubs, but on the other hand was forced to check his personal leanings towards the turbulent “Empfindsamkeit” style (a forerunner of “Sturm und Drang”) in favour of the more conservative galant style beloved of flute-playing Frederick. It was therefore with relief that in 1768 he was able to take up Hamburg’s Director of Music post, and finally begin to compose with more freedom. Yet Itzig-Levy was clearly a contact worth hanging on to. So back to the Quartets – which owe their distinctive timbres to the unusual presence of a viola – and these are meticulously and lovingly scored works, full of the quirky changes of melodic, harmonic and emotional direction that you also hear in his Hamburg Concertos and Symphonies, and clearly penned for connoisseur keyboardist ears that had no desire to play safe. Listen for instance to the keyboard’s unpredictable chromatic wanderings in the G major Quartet’s Adagio. Nevermind themselves then deliciously pick up on the works’ intricate blend of delicate craftmanship and subversiveness, employing a colouristic palette which milks Bach’s cornucopia of textural and emotional twists and turns to the full. Listen to the G major’s opening Allegretto, where they give us fleet-footedly airy dancing spiced by sudden, isolated, lower-register honks. Or the way Rondeau’s harpsichord flourishes in the A minor’s opening Andantino bring to mind little splashes of sparkling water; followed by a central Largo offering up an entirely different sound world of luxuriously long lines and expansive textures. There’s also the pleasure of their tighter-than-tight chamber partnering: heard, for instance, in that aforementioned A minor Andantino as their imitative lines lightly tumble after each other; and overall through the almost improvisatory quality they often achieve. A final tribute to Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s keyboard writing is the ensemble’s bookending of the Quartets with a pair of deftly worked transcriptions of two of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s keyboard sonata movements. © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz

Nevermind was never meant to change the world, but you can never predict when the Zeitgeist will hit, and Nirvana's second album turned out to be the place where alternative rock crashed into the mainstream. This wasn't entirely an accident, either, since Nirvana did sign with a major label, and they did release a record with a shiny surface, no matter how humongous the guitars sounded. And, yes, Nevermind is probably a little shinier than it should be, positively glistening with echo and fuzzbox distortion, especially when compared with the black-and-white murk of Bleach. This doesn't discount the record, since it's not only much harder than any mainstream rock of 1991, its character isn't on the surface, it's in the exhilaratingly raw music and haunting songs. Kurt Cobain's personal problems and subsequent suicide naturally deepen the dark undercurrents, but no matter how much anguish there is on Nevermind, it's bracing because he exorcizes those demons through his evocative wordplay and mangled screams -- and because the band has a tremendous, unbridled power that transcends the pain, turning into pure catharsis. And that's as key to the record's success as Cobain's songwriting, since Krist Novoselic and Dave Grohl help turn this into music that is gripping, powerful, and even fun (and, really, there's no other way to characterize "Territorial Pissings" or the surging "Breed"). In retrospect, Nevermind may seem a little too unassuming for its mythic status -- it's simply a great modern punk record -- but even though it may no longer seem life-changing, it is certainly life-affirming, which may just be better.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

"Nevermind Conversations", that could easily be the title of a rap album, right? But no, dear qobuzian (qobuzzer?), this new recording by Baroque ensemble Nevermind (Anna Besson (flute), Louis Creac'h (violin), Robin Pharo (gamba) and Jean Rondeau (harpsichord)) certainly strike up a spirited conversation between two French Baroque composers, established between French and Italian styles that both deal with fantasy and invention. The two composers: Jean Baptiste Quentin (ca. 1690 - ca. 1742), violinist at the Royal Academy of Music; and Louis-Gabriel Guillemain (1705 - 1770), ordinary musician of the king.© SM/Qobuz

On the follow-up to her chart-topping 2015 debut, I Cry When I Laugh, English singer Jess Glynne delivers more polished soul-pop that highlights her strong voice with able production from a team of studio hands, resulting in a handful of potential additions to a future greatest-hits compilation. Upon release, Always in Between became her second number one, buoyed by the strength of promotional singles "I'll Be There" and "All I Am." The latter is a burst of joy that rivals her best collaborations with Clean Bandit, while the former is one of many sweet and wholesome moments on this collection. Elsewhere, "No One," an uplifting dance anthem with roof-raising pastoral touches, could fit nicely on Avicii's True, while the sassy "Rollin" turns up the attitude with a wink and accompanying horn section. These standout moments outshine the lesser -- but still perfectly serviceable -- remainder of the album, which also includes Ed Sheeran dropping in with a songwriting credit on the aching "Thursday." Always in Between might lack the momentum that helped Glynne's debut propel her to the top of the charts, but it offers enough highlights for a fun listen.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Nevermind was never meant to change the world, but you can never predict when the Zeitgeist will hit, and Nirvana's second album turned out to be the place where alternative rock crashed into the mainstream. This wasn't entirely an accident, either, since Nirvana did sign with a major label, and they did release a record with a shiny surface, no matter how humongous the guitars sounded. And, yes, Nevermind is probably a little shinier than it should be, positively glistening with echo and fuzzbox distortion, especially when compared with the black-and-white murk of Bleach. This doesn't discount the record, since it's not only much harder than any mainstream rock of 1991, its character isn't on the surface, it's in the exhilaratingly raw music and haunting songs. Kurt Cobain's personal problems and subsequent suicide naturally deepen the dark undercurrents, but no matter how much anguish there is on Nevermind, it's bracing because he exorcizes those demons through his evocative wordplay and mangled screams -- and because the band has a tremendous, unbridled power that transcends the pain, turning into pure catharsis. And that's as key to the record's success as Cobain's songwriting, since Krist Novoselic and Dave Grohl help turn this into music that is gripping, powerful, and even fun (and, really, there's no other way to characterize "Territorial Pissings" or the surging "Breed"). In retrospect, Nevermind may seem a little too unassuming for its mythic status -- it's simply a great modern punk record -- but even though it may no longer seem life-changing, it is certainly life-affirming, which may just be better.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

An exceptionally prolific and versatile composer, Telemann reached a high musical stature in Germany at a very early stage. From 1715, aware that the provincial German musical market didn’t offer any outlet for his hundreds (and soon to be thousands) of works, he took it upon himself to broadcast his chamber music by publishing it in his own publishing house in Frankfurt. He thus became an entrepreneur and businessman, in addition to being a composer and instrumentalist. Starting in 1725, he pursued and developed this side activity in Hamburg, another very important business center. One of the outcomes of this pioneering work was that it drew the attention of Parisian flautist Michel Blavet. We think that it was Blavet who invited Telemann to Paris in 1737-38, giving him access to the most influential salons and even to the famous Concert Spirituel. His Sonatas for Two Flutes without Bass or Violin or Transverse Flute (1726) might well have been the source of their relationship. But the decisive role can probably be attributed to the 6 Quartets (1730), with which Telemann tackled new grounds in the area of chamber music for four voices, uniting the very heterogeneous sonorities of the transverse flute, the violin and the viola da gamba (or the cello) in a unique and very coherent trio of soloists, accompanied by a continuous bass. Around 1750, the Parisian publisher Le Clerc sold partitions in almost every chamber music genres from Telemann, including these so sought-after quartets, of which the present recording offers examples coming from the first, second and fourth volumes. At the helm, the superb ensemble Nevermind with Anna Besson on flute, Louis Creac’h on violin, Robin Pharo on viola da gamba and Jean Rondeau on harpsichord. © SM

Across seven studio albums released at regular intervals over 16 years, Texas has maintained a focus on accessible pop/rock music that serves as a foundation for lead singer Sharleen Spiteri's evocative vocals. Within that focus, however, the band has tacked around considerably, and anyone comparing Red Book with 1989's debut, Southside, would hear considerable change. Texas started out with a sound anchored to Ally McErlaine's Ry Cooder-influenced electric slide guitar playing, but over the years the group has tried a little of everything, from Motown to hip-hop styles. There are no rappers, toasters, or Smokey Robinson impersonations on Red Book, but Texas has not returned to its original sound by any means. To begin with, McErlaine's contribution has shriveled. There are 11 different people credited with playing guitar on Red Book, but guitar is hardly the dominant instrument. What is? Um, "programming," as handled by Spiteri, band leader Johnny McElhone, and newcomer Michael Bannister. (Although there is no listing on the album of who is in the group at this point, it appears that Bannister has replaced longtime keyboard player Eddie Campbell, and drummer Neil Payne isn't much in evidence, either.) Especially as heard on the initial singles released in advance of the album, "Getaway" and "Can't Resist," the disc is filled with heavily arranged, slickly produced tracks, with a distinctly electronic edge to the sound. As such, it is less reminiscent of Cooder than Depeche Mode. The human element, of course, is Spiteri, but on many tracks her vocals are doubled, filtered, or otherwise altered, reducing the soulful and individual characteristic that has tended to make Texas identifiable no matter what style it was dabbling in at any given moment. The vocals get clearer as the album goes on, a turning point coming with the sixth track (and third single), "Sleep," a duet with Paul Buchanan of the Blue Nile. The sentiments are simple enough -- "Let me sleep so I can dream of you," Spiteri and Buchanan coo to each other -- but then, Spiteri's lyrics rarely stray far from the good love/bad love dichotomy of most pop music. And at least here some personality emerges from the drum and keyboard programming, as it also does, to at least some extent, on a few of the other later songs. © William Ruhlmann /TiVo