Josh Homme's hard-rock brutality has always come with humor and a dash of campy, scenery-chewing flamboyance. Not even a very messy, very public divorce battle can change that, as evidenced by "Emotion Sickness," the first single from Queens of the Stone Age's eighth album, In Times New Roman.... The verses swing and rock like the band's great "No One Knows," while the creamy, classic-rock chorus could be lifted from Journey. "Baby don't care for me," Homme sings, turning a jazz standard on its head. "People come and go on the breeze/ For a whole life? Possibly." Borrowing its title from a line in "New Fang" ("Had it made to parade/ Found a sucker, now I want another") by Them Crooked Vultures, Homme's side project with Dave Grohl and John Paul Jones, "Made to Parade" sways low and wide like a big metal pendulum—then fires up a majestic, Brian May-esque bridge to the end. Homme, the last man standing from the original QOTSA lineup, invented his own very specific genre (including with his previous band Kyuss) in desert rock; sometimes metal, sometimes sludgy, sometimes psychedelic, sometimes bluesy, it has always allowed for flexibility. So QOTSA goes goth-dark on "Carnavoyeur," which works itself into a frenzy as Homme explores his lonesome-dove liberation: "Free fall from the nest, Then glide to the left/ A shine catch the eye, So flow to the right/ Flying high, realize, There are no more mountains to climb." The band even plays with slinky, sexy New Romantic vibes on "Time & Place," "What the Peephole Say," and "Straight Jacket Fitting," which sounds like said constraints should be paired with an ascot. Homme's arch delivery sounds like Bryan Ferry fronting stoner rock; then the song ends ... and another fades in, all desert-mirage blurry like some kind of campfire Clapton number. "Sicily" has a cool prey-stalking groove; "Paper Machete" slithers and grinds with its sleazy guitar solo. And "Negative Space" is a deliciously nasty piece of work, the guitar like a well-oiled monster hungrily sliding through the streets. "Don't say you love me no more," Homme half-pleads, half-commands. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Over nine albums, The National have grown wilder in their experimentation. But the Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cincinnati band proves on First Two Pages of Frankenstein that almost no one else does Midwest desolation this well—still. It's there in the plaintive but sweetly hopeful piano line that carries "Once Upon a Poolside" and underscores Matt Berninger's troubled lines: "I can't keep talking/ I can't stop shaking/ I can't keep track of everything I'm taking." (Bonus points for bringing in fellow Midwestern native Sufjan Stevens for ethereal backing vocals.) There's a spareness, too, in the excellent "Eucalyptus," which poses questions about who walks away with what when a relationship ends: ceiling fans, rainbow eucalyptus, ornaments ..."What about the undeveloped cameras?/ Maybe we should bury those ... What about the Cowboy Junkies?/ What about the Afghan Whigs?" And yet the song takes on an early-U2 level of drama with a build of moody, striking guitar and tumbling drums. "Tropic Morning News," meanwhile, surprises in a different way: Starting with a perfectly chilled Joy Division beat, the guitars spring to life and the bridge takes off and up. This is the song that is said to have saved the record, after Berninger was in a dry spell. It was, he has said, "the first time it ever felt like maybe things really had come to an end" for the band. But, with his wife Carin Besser's help on the words, he pulled through—a feeling that seems to be reflected in the lyrics: "I was so distracted then/ I didn't have it straight in my head/ I didn't have my face on yet, or the role, or the feel/ Of where I was going with it all ... There's nothing stopping me now/ From saying all the painful parts out loud." Much has been made of the band's collaboration with Taylor Swift, "The Alcott,” and for good reason. As a producer, National guitarist and songwriter Aaron Dessner knows how to pull a genuine maturity out of Swift. Here she holds her own against Berninger's deep masculinity and the beating heart of percussion. Unlike with other guests on ... Frankenstein, this is a proper duet, and a pretty perfect addition to the Swift oeuvre, as she delivers lines like "Shred my evening gown/ Read my sentence out loud/ Because I brought this curse on our house." Phoebe Bridgers, meanwhile, shows up on "This Isn't Helping" and "Your Mind Is Not Your Friend," but her harmonies are more like a spoonful of sugar atop Berninger's roughness, rather than an equal match.The record ends with “Send for Me” and Berninger promising to answer any SOS: "If you're ever sitting at the airport/ And you don't want to leave ... If you're ever at a glass-top table, selling your ideas/ To swivel-chair underlings who just don't get it … Send for me/ Whenever, where ever/ Send for me/ I'll come and get ya." In other words: They’re not done yet. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Everyone knows the Indiana Jones theme, with its strident rhythm and sparkling trumpet. But we sometimes forget that the composer John Williams also wrote specific themes for the female characters who accompany the archaeological adventurer in Steven Spielberg's legendary saga. In 1981, for Raiders of the Lost Ark, the post-Romanticism of Marion's theme (played by Karen Allen) provided a nice counterbalance to the relentless triumph evoked by the main theme. In this fifth edition, John Williams (91 years old!) has written a theme for Helena, Indy's goddaughter, played by Phoebe Waller Bridge. It is very aptly brought to life by violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter, who feels like the musical embodiment of this tender, almost cerebral melody. The German musician had already worked with Williams in 2017 when he dedicated her a violin concerto, entitled Markings. As for the rest of the soundtrack to this Dial of Destiny, John Williams seems to have had a lot of fun referencing the golden age of Hollywood in the 1930s and 1940s. Rather than playing on the traditional music of the countries featured in the film (Morocco, Greece, Germany), he drew inspiration from the great scores of adventure films by Max Steiner, Miklós Rozsa and Erich Korngold. The result feels much like a tribute that will appeal not only to nostalgic fans of this cinema, but also to those who have been following the archaeologist’s adventures since the early days of his momentous career. ©Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

The second in a series of catalog re-recordings and revisions, Red [Taylor's Version] finds Taylor Swift revisiting her self-styled pop breakthrough Red. Released nine years after the original album, Red [Taylor's Version] does bear a few signs of maturation, notably on the explicitly pop moments, such as "I Knew You Were Trouble," "22," and "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together," which seem ever so slightly muted when compared to the 2012 versions. Nevertheless, much of the point of the re-recordings is to get these new versions as close to the original versions as possible so they can be easily licensed and to that end, Swift succeeds admirably. The more interesting part of Red [Taylor's Version] arrives in the second half when Swift records songs left in the vault, including "Better Man" -- a song she gave to Little Big Town, who won a Grammy for Best Country/Duo Group Performance in 2018 for their recording -- and duets with Phoebe Bridgers ("Nothing New"), Chris Stapleton ("I Bet You Think About Me"), and Ed Sheeran ("Run"). The highlight of these is a ten-minute version of "All Too Well," a bitter ballad that was already one of the peaks of Red and is now turned into an epic kiss-off. This, along with excavated songs, are reason enough for Swift to revisit Red and they, not the re-recordings, are the reason to return to Red [Taylor's Version].© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Joshua Redman makes his Blue Note debut with his nuanced 2023 travelog where are we. Along with being his first studio album for the storied jazz label (and his 16th overall), where are we is also his first primarily vocal-oriented production, featuring singer Gabrielle Cavassa. Also joining him is pianist Aaron Parks, bassist Joe Sanders, and drummer Brian Blade. Vocally, the California-born/New Orleans-based Cavassa has a warm sound that bridges the gap between the relaxed style of alt pop artists like Billie Eilish with jazz and R&B luminaries like Billie Holiday and Phyllis Hyman. She fits nicely alongside Redman, whose own burnished tone has always evinced a vocal-like quality. There's a sense throughout the album that Redman is pulling songs from an array of influences. Most emblematic of this broad palette is "Chicago Blues," a heady cross-stitch of Count Basie's "Goin' to Chicago" and indie singer/songwriter Sufjan Stevens' "Chicago" that also features Chicago-bred vibraphonist Joel Ross. Redman returns to the hometown concept throughout the album, bringing along several special guests who each play a song associated with the place they grew up. Crescent City-born trumpeter Nicholas Payton jumps on board for a boldly reharmonized take on "Do You Know What It Means," while guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel sprinkles his fusion-influenced lines on a convincingly reworked rendition of Bruce Springsteen's "Streets of Philadelphia." We also get New York guitarist Peter Bernstein for an urbane and swinging take on the Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart standard "Manhattan." Elsewhere, Cavassa settles into warm readings of "By the Time I Get to Phoenix," "That's New England," and "Stars Fell on Alabama," all of which bring to mind the relaxed, '50s jazz of singers like June Christy, albeit with a modern creative jazz and classical-inflected artfulness that longtime Redman fans will be familiar with.© Matt Collar /TiVo

While he's widely considered one of the best rappers of all time, this distinction often overshadows André 3000's tendencies for the absurd. In OutKast, his partner Big Boi's strong and steady presence often grounded the group when André's wordplay veered toward the psychedelic or his musical ideas wandered. When they ventured down individual paths on 2003's groundbreaking Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, Big Boi stuck mostly to party funk and rap bangers, while André went off the rails completely, bending pop, swing, jazz, electro, and anything else that suited him around songs whose flagrant ridiculousness was an integral part of what made them so incredible. New Blue Sun is André 3000's first official solo album, and though it's made by one of the world's most gifted rappers, it contains no rapping, no singing, no beats (though some percussion happens), not even the genre-hopping he's previously indulged in. Instead of the rap masterpiece he's no doubt capable of, 3000 instead turns in an entirely instrumental album of meditative soundscapes centered around woodwinds. When you take into account his proclivity for the surreal and the ridiculous, releasing a nearly 90-minute-long collection of ambient flute jams is one of the most André 3000 things André 3000 could do.If you can get past the premise (and overlook the goofy song titles, most of which are too long and silly to dignify here) and tune in to New Blue Sun as an album of contemplative healing sounds, it's pleasant and sometimes even sublime. Carlos Niño co-produces, bringing the same soft warmth he's cultivated on his own transcendental pop albums for the International Anthem label. The songs wash by in waves of airy synth pads, gentle wind chimes, electric piano, or absent-minded guitar lines. 3000 is joined by a host of players including Nate Mercereau, Diego Gaeta, Surya Botofasina, Mia Doi Todd, and others, all of whom fold new textures effortlessly into the stream of sounds. Opening track "I Swear, I Really Wanted to Make a 'Rap' Album But This Is Literally the Way the Wind Blew Me This Time" is among the most structured pieces, moving in patient ripples similar to Pharoah Sanders and Floating Points' majestic Promises. Most of the eight tracks meander past ten-minute run times, wobbling in and out of focus as André burbles along on various woodwinds. "Dreams Once Buried Beneath the Dungeon Floor Slowly Sprout into Undying Gardens" is one of the album's blurriest excursions, but also one of its best. Niño's metered gong swells and swishes of arrhythmic percussion dance with synths, flutes, and other opaque ambiance for just over 17 minutes. It's hovering and aimless like Emerald Web's or Alice Coltrane's most new age material, vibrating constantly but never bubbling over. New Blue Sun is probably not the André 3000 solo debut most OutKast fans had expected or hoped for, but it does continue the integrity and spirit of his creative journey, in a way that's fittingly bizarre and beautiful.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

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Although electronica had its fair share of chillout classics prior to the debut of Air, the lion's share were either stark techno (Warp) or sample-laden trip-hop (Mo' Wax). But while Air had certainly bought records and gear based on the artists that had influenced them, they didn't just regurgitate (or sample) them; they learned from them, digesting their lessons in a way that gave them new paths to follow. They were musicians in a producer's world, and while no one could ever accuse their music of being danceable, it delivered the emotional power of great dance music even while pushing the barriers of what "electronica" could or should sound like. (Never again would Saint Etienne be the only band of a certain age to reveal their fondness for Burt Bacharach.) The Modulor EP had displayed astonishing powers of mood and texture, but it was Air's full-length debut, Moon Safari, that proved they could also write accessible pop songs like "Sexy Boy" and "Kelly Watch the Stars." But it wasn't all pop. The opener, "La Femme d'Argent," was an otherworldly beginning, with a slinky bassline evoking Serge Gainsbourg's Histoire de Melody Nelson and a slow glide through seven minutes of growing bliss (plus a wonderful keyboard solo). The vocoderized "Remember" relaunched a wave of robot pop that hadn't been heard in almost 20 years, and the solos for harmonica and French horn on "Ce Matin La" made the Bacharach comparisons direct. Unlike most electronica producers, Air had musical ideas that stretched beyond samplers or keyboards, and Moon Safari found those ideas wrapped up in music that was engaging, warm, and irresistible.© John Bush /TiVo

It seems almost impossible for artists who reach a certain level of success in the industry to escape the lure of the great American ‘Christmas Album’. Gregory Porter is no exception to this rule, taking on the challenge with considerable flair in Christmas Wish. Accompanied on most of the album’s 12 tracks by a jazz orchestra, including his loyal companions Chip Crawford on piano, Jahmal Nichols on double bass, Onfrej Pivec on the Hammond organ, and Emanuel Harrold on drums. Their work is enhanced by the lush string section of the Kingdom Orchestra, and gospel-inspired background vocals (see the title theme, composed by Porter himself). Porter nestles his golden voice in the mix with great technique, to produce an intimate selection of Christmas songs.The tracks strike a comfortable balance between tradition and modernity, mixing classics (“Silent Night”, “Little Drummer Boy”), with others drawn from the American catalogue with 1950s jazz pieces (Sinatra’s “Christmas Waltz”, Nat King Cole’s “Cradle in Bethlehem”). Porter even embraces the soul music of the 60s and 70s with Marvin Gaye’s “Purple Snowflakes”, alongside Stevie Wonder’s “Somebody at Christmas”. Notably, instrumental contributions on the tracks include performances from harmonicist Grégoire Maret, and saxophonist Tivon Pennicott – along with American jazz diva Samara Joy. Joy’s cover of Frank Loesser's theme, "What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?", is a standout performance from the album. The resulting collection is executed without pretension, and instead with the generosity, talent and know-how of a decidedly incomparable artist. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

Jason Isbell released his first solo record not long after parting ways with the Drive-By Truckers and quickly settled into a groove with his band, the 400 Unit, releasing two well-received albums and winning Song of the Year at the 2012 Americana Music Awards for "Alabama Pines." But his fourth solo record, Southeastern—the first released under his own name—is even more stunning. Produced by Dave Cobb and released in the wake of Isbell getting sober, the landmark modern Americana album feels like a collection of short stories populated by vibrant, deeply human characters grappling with challenging life experiences. "Elephant" is a striking song about the complicated emotions that crop up with a friend dying from cancer; "Songs That She Sang In The Shower" features someone in a dark mental space haunted by the memory of an ex's presence; and "Yvette" is from the perspective of a teenage boy ready to protect a classmate from abuse. And the stark "Traveling Alone" on which Isbell's wife Amanda Shires contributes solemn fiddle and vocals, focuses on a narrator who's weary of his own behaviors (and past) and is looking for a fresh start.Isbell's strident guitars cut to the emotional quick throughout, whether hewing toward delicate folk-rock or his trademark Southern rock roar. However, he also cut many of his vocals in one take, which gives Southeastern a feeling of raw immediacy that's matched by Cobb's warm production. But in a nod to one of the album's thematic undercurrents—searching for connection and community wherever you can—Isbell surrounds himself with guest musicians. Will Johnson's vocals enrich the barnstorming "Super 8," while Kim Richey appears on two songs, including the waltzing folk number "Stockholm." Isbell's 400 Unit bandmates Chad Gamble and Derry deBorja add drums and keyboards (respectively). An expanded 2023 version of Southeastern contains demos and live tracks (and is also newly in hi-res), which amplifies the nuances of the songwriting. A decade-plus on, the album remains one of Isbell's finest—and most vulnerable—moments. © Annie Zaleski/Qobuz

Bridge Over Troubled Water was one of the biggest-selling albums of its decade, and it hasn't fallen too far down on the list in years since. Apart from the gospel-flavored title track, which took some evolution to get to what it finally became, however, much of Bridge Over Troubled Water also constitutes a stepping back from the music that Simon & Garfunkel had made on Bookends -- this was mostly because the creative partnership that had formed the body and the motivation for the duo's four prior albums literally consumed itself in the making of Bridge Over Troubled Water. The overall effect was perhaps the most delicately textured album to close out the 1960s from any major rock act. Bridge Over Troubled Water, at its most ambitious and bold, on its title track, was a quietly reassuring album; at other times, it was personal yet soothing; and at other times, it was just plain fun. The public in 1970 -- a very unsettled time politically, socially, and culturally -- embraced it; and whatever mood they captured, the songs matched the standard of craftsmanship that had been established on the duo's two prior albums. Between the record's overall quality and its four hits, the album held the number one position for two and a half months and spent years on the charts, racking up sales in excess of five million copies. The irony was that for all of the record's and the music's appeal, the duo's partnership ended in the course of creating and completing the album.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

After a long break from making Tame Impala music, during which time Kevin Parker produced other people's albums and played in side projects, 2015's Currents shows that much has changed with the project. Like before, Parker recorded the album on his own, only this time without Dave Fridmann's guiding hand and by mostly forsaking electric guitars in favor of a wealth of synthesizers, and with a much more relaxed, intimate approach. In addition to the soft rock of the '70s feel that permeates the sound, Parker adds elements of R&B and hip-hop to the mix, gets lyrically introspective in spots, and generally sounds like he's either on the verge of a long nap or just waking up from one. These aren't bad things when done right, and Parker's prowess as a producer and musician makes most of Currents palatable, if not extremely exciting. However, by focusing on all these new elements, and by sleepwalking through at least half of the songs, this new way of doing things does a lot to frustrate the expectations of anyone looking to this album as another mind-blowing expression of guitar-heavy psych-pop. It's hard to deny artists the chance for change or growth, and Parker seems dedicated to both here. Where you can fault them is if they don't change or grow in an interesting or unique way. Great chunks of Currents sound like plenty of other bands and artists in 2015, especially since practically everyone with access to recording equipment did their own takes on midtempo, chilled-out R&B. Does Parker do it as well as others like Unknown Mortal Orchestra or Caribou? Sure, he does. Is it enough to make this album worth checking out? Yes, but it's not enough to make it an improvement over his previous work. At Tame Impala's best, they blend huge guitar sounds, melodic basslines, and vintage synths into sweeping psychedelic rock with energy and drive that feel hugely cinematic while still feeling real. There are only a couple times here when Parker comes close to that sweet spot. For example, the both "Let It Happen" and "Reality in Motion" have a good blend of guitars and synths and a sense of purpose that's often missing elsewhere. There are far more times where he strays too far from his strengths and gets bogged down in meandering, overly smoothed-out sounds and meandering songs that deliver no real payoff or sound half-baked at best, like the embarrassingly weak "Cause I'm a Man." It's too bad that Parker stashed his guitars away instead of keeping them around to add to the mix. It's definitely not a case of addition by subtraction; it's quite the opposite. While Currents would have made a decent Kevin Parker solo album, people coming to the album and expecting to hear the Tame Impala they are used to will most likely end up quite disappointed.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

“This is my life in Songs. Some of them reconstructed, some of them refitted, some of them reframed, and all of them with a contemporary focus.” That is the description of Sting’s latest record, making this more than just a collection of his biggest hits (either solo or with The Police). It was a particular kind of rhythm that he wanted to work in, so as to eliminate the ‘dated’ feel to some of his songs (according to Sting himself). More striking than the original, the drums of Demolition Man, If You Love Someone Set Them Free, Desert Rose and even Englishman in New York will take listeners by surprise. Regarding this famous tribute to gay icon Quentin Crisp, the song released in 1988 is seasoned by pizzicatos and a soprano sax solo.As for the other ballads, it’s more in the singer’s texture and vocal prowess that the reinvention is most noticeable. Less pure but more structured than before, Sting’s voice carries a new dimension in Fields of Gold and Fragile, two songs that also prove that the Englishman’s talent as a melodist has not aged a bit. The same goes for tracks taken from his Police years too, in particular Message in a Bottle and Walking on the Moon, as well as the ubiquitous Roxanne (presented here as a live version). © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

A portrait of the artist as a young man, The Nightfly is a wonderfully evocative reminiscence of Kennedy-era American life; in the liner notes, Donald Fagen describes the songs as representative of the kinds of fantasies he entertained as an adolescent during the late '50s/early '60s, and he conveys the tenor of the times with some of his most personal and least obtuse material to date. Continuing in the smooth pop-jazz mode favored on the final Steely Dan records, The Nightfly is lush and shimmering, produced with cinematic flair by Gary Katz; romanticized but never sentimental, the songs are slices of suburbanite soap opera, tales of space-age hopes (the hit "I.G.Y.") and Cold War fears (the wonderful "The New Frontier," a memoir of fallout-shelter love) crafted with impeccable style and sophistication.© Jason Ankeny /TiVo

The Eagles took 18 months between their fourth and fifth albums, reportedly spending eight months in the studio recording Hotel California. The album was also their first to be made without Bernie Leadon, who had given the band much of its country flavor, and with rock guitarist Joe Walsh. As a result, the album marks a major leap for the Eagles from their earlier work, as well as a stylistic shift toward mainstream rock. An even more important aspect, however, is the emergence of Don Henley as the band's dominant voice, both as a singer and a lyricist. On the six songs to which he contributes, Henley sketches a thematic statement that begins by using California as a metaphor for a dark, surreal world of dissipation; comments on the ephemeral nature of success and the attraction of excess; branches out into romantic disappointment; and finally sketches a broad, pessimistic history of America that borders on nihilism. Of course, the lyrics kick in some time after one has appreciated the album's music, which marks a peak in the Eagles' playing. Early on, the group couldn't rock convincingly, but the rhythm section of Henley and Meisner has finally solidified, and the electric guitar work of Don Felder and Joe Walsh has arena-rock heft. In the early part of their career, the Eagles never seemed to get a sound big enough for their ambitions; after changes in producer and personnel, as well as a noticeable growth in creativity, Hotel California unveiled what seemed almost like a whole new band. It was a band that could be bombastic, but also one that made music worthy of the later tag of "classic rock," music appropriate for the arenas and stadiums the band was playing. The result was the Eagles' biggest-selling regular album release, and one of the most successful rock albums ever.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

This set (the CD reissue is a duplicate of the original LP) is one of the finest Lee Morgan records. The great trumpeter contributes five challenging compositions ("Search for the New Land," "The Joker," "Mr. Kenyatta," "Melancholee," and "Morgan the Pirate") that deserve to be revived. Morgan, tenor saxophonist Wayne Shorter, guitarist Grant Green, pianist Herbie Hancock, bassist Reggie Workman, and drummer Billy Higgins are all in particularly creative form on the fresh material, and they stretch the boundaries of hard bop (the modern mainstream jazz of the period). The result is a consistently stimulating set that rewards repeated listenings.© Scott Yanow /TiVo

Tom Waits wrote a song called "Frank's Wild Years" for his 1983 Swordfishtrombones album, then used the title (minus its apostrophe) for a musical play he wrote with his wife, Kathleen Brennan, and toured with in 1986. The Franks Wild Years album, drawn from the show, is subtitled, "un operachi romantico in two acts," though the songs themselves do not carry the plot. Rather, this is just the third installment in Waits' eccentric series of Island Records albums in which he seems most inspired by German art song and carnival music, presenting songs in spare, stripped-down arrangements consisting of instruments like marimba, baritone horn, and pump organ and singing in a strained voice that has been artificially compressed and distorted. The songs themselves often are conventional romantic vignettes, or would be minus the oddities of instrumentation, arrangement, and performance. For example, "Innocent When You Dream," a song of disappointment in love and friendship, has a winning melody, but it is played in a seesaw arrangement of pump organ, bass, violin, and piano, and Waits sings it like an enraged drunk. (He points out the arbitrary nature of the arrangements by repeating "Straight to the Top," done as a demented rhumba in act one, as a Vegas-style Frank Sinatra swing tune in act two.) The result on record may not be theatrical, exactly, but it certainly is affected. It also has the quality of an inside joke that listeners are not being let in on.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo