On her ninth album, and first in nearly a decade, Natalie Merchant echoes the lushness of her classic Ophelia from 1998—though you can hear the age in her voice. That's not a bad thing. You might not recognize her in the first notes of the excellent "Big Girls," but you will soon enough. Her voice is richer, smokier, and a stunning complement to duet partner Abena Koomson-Davis' warm lilt on both this soulful piano number and its follow-up "Come on, Aphrodite," an appeal to the goddess to deliver all the beauty and messiness of love. Egged on by vibrant horns, Koomson-Davis sounds full of longing, while Merchant is simply commanding: "Make me head over heels/ Make me drunk/ Make me blind/ Over the moon/ Half out of my mind." Merchant has said the 10 songs here "needed all the textures of full orchestrations: wood, metal, gut, reeds, skins, human breath, pressure, and friction," which led her to seven composers, including Gabriel Kahane and Megan Gould, as well as the Celtic folk group Lúnasa. Insistent cowbell escorts in sultry piano and Cab Calloway-style horns on "Tower of Babel," while "Narcissus" is set to romantic guitar and tells that Greek myth from cursed Echo's point of view, letting her speak the complete thoughts she was unable to say in the original story. "I'm nothing but the clear and empty sky above/ I'm light, can you see me?" Merchant sings, her voice at times reaching the clarity of her early 10,000 Maniacs years. And her signature vibrato is perhaps best highlighted on "Song of Himself." She covers "Hunting the Wren" by the Irish folk band Lankum, offering a softer, more delicate contrast to the stoic pain of the original, which uses the bird as a metaphor for exploited women. "Sister Tilly" is a melancholic but playful string tribute to the fading Chelsea Girls and '60s earth mothers of yore—the "women of my mother's generation who are leaving us now," Merchant has said. She lovingly chronicles "your Rilke poems and your stacks of Mother Jones, your feminist raves in your Didion shades, and your Zeppelin so loud and so proud." Near the end, it rolls into an easy, Carly Simon-like sway. (There are shades of Joni Mitchell, meanwhile, on the Celtic-tinged "Eye of the Storm.") The whole thing ends on a dramatic turn with "The Feast of Saint Valentine" and its chamber pop stylings; kudos to Merchant for managing to open a song with the line "In the deep and darkest night of your soul" and close it with "Love will conquer all" without earning any cynicism for those cliches. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

A great many spiritual meanings have historically been associated with the number nine: fulfillment, truth, wisdom, reflection… All such interpretations surely hold water when applied to Matthew Halsall's ninth solo offering, An Ever Changing View. Soul laid bare to the natural world, he approached this project "like a landscape painting," surrendering his hand to the serenity of his surroundings and embracing, without reservation, the free will and departure that the outdoors generously provides. It listens almost like a View-Master, each track loading up a vivid new reel and tracing an undulating path through the streams, estuaries, valleys, and peaks that dot the British countryside and its coastline. These "paintings" draw their inspiration from a number of locations around the United Kingdom: Bridlington, in northeast England, and Newborough, Wales, to name a couple. The latter, a seaside village on the isle of Anglesey, serves as the visual backdrop for the "Water Street" video. It's a glimpse inside the mind of Halsall throughout the recording period: sending kites aloft beside the shore, skipping stones across the water and serenading the setting sun. The music breezes through all these images with an expansive, wholesome quality, embalming and uplifting the soul without compromising on the intricacy or virtuosity which sets its composer apart in the first instance.Indeed, the writing process stands out as perhaps his most ambitious effort yet. Combining a rich palette of instrumental samples recorded especially for the album with a loop-based compositional format, Halsall explains that he "would almost be like a DJ at points, bringing different elements in and out for people to play on top of. It was a new and fun way of working, and everyone beautifully adapted to that process." This sentiment certainly shines through in the final product, where each of the performers dovetail seamlessly within this beautifully rich, intricate musical organism, exchanging solos and comping along to kalimba lines and naturally-sourced percussion sounds.An Ever Changing View invites its listeners to pause, listen, and be present in the beauty and inspiration which surrounds them. Halsall guides us through these different states with a grace and poise only afforded to those patient enough to search both inwardly and outwardly for true personal enlightenment. A profoundly beautiful manifestation of spiritual jazz, from the man at its helm. © Finn Kverndal/Qobuz

A duets collection of folk song covers could be pure novelty, but Rufus Wainwright infuses this recording with so much thought and care, it feels essential. Wainwright's song choices aren't precious. There are plenty of traditionals, including a jazzy version of the bluegrass standard "Cotton Eyed Joe" that finds him melting like butter next to Chaka Khan's heat. And Brandi Carlile brings incredible earthiness to the high harmonies of "Down in the Willow Garden," a gruesome Appalachian murder ballad ("I drew a saber through her/ It was an awful sight/ I threw her in the river/ Then ran off in fright") previously recorded by Flatt & Scruggs (as "Rose Connelly") and the Everly Brothers. But there's also a delightful take on "Twelve-Thirty (Young Girls Are Coming to the Canyon)," with Wainwright assembling his own version of the Mamas & the Papas—himself, Susanna Hoffs, Sheryl Crow, and Chris Stills (son of Stephen)—that captures all the charm and chamber-pop melancholy of the original (while making it clear that Hoffs and Crow should do more together). Stills and Andrew Bird contribute rich harmonies, as well as weepy violin from Bird, for Neil Young's "Harvest." Van Dyke Parks guests on accordion and spritely piano for his own "Black Gold," with Wainwright playfully leaping from note to note. And Wainwright even stages a theatrical reimagining of his own "Going to a Town." First released in 2007, the song is about giving up on the political division of America—written when gay marriage was being debated—and decamping to Berlin; it feels painfully relevant all over again in 2023, especially with trans artist Anohni silkily shadowing Wainwright. A warm and earthy John Legend joins in for a feather-light version of Peggy Seeger's "Heading for Home," while David Byrne shows up for Moondog's "High on a Rocky Ledge"; his and Wainwright's eccentricities are so different and yet so complementary. Make no mistake, Wainwright is the star of the show here, and does not shy away from the spotlight, with his inimitable vocal tone warming up each and every track. He even takes a couple of solo turns, including a cover of "Shenandoah," velvety with bell-piano, that showcase his remarkable ability to meld with the music: effortlessly alternating restraint, sustain, and full-throated power. And yes, he brings in his talented family, teaming with siblings Martha Wainwright and Lucy Wainwright Roche on a chilling version of the traditional lullaby "Hush Little Baby";  on "Wild Mountain Thyme" they’re joined by their aunt Anna McGarrigle and her daughter Lily Lanken, as well as Chaim Tannenbaum, a longtime musical collaborator of both of Wainwright's parents, Loudon Wainwright III and the late Kate McGarrigle. The harmonies are at once celestial, yet so human—vibrantly alive and warm with flesh and spirit. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Hailed for songwriting skill and an unironic embrace of outlaw country, Chris Stapleton, on his fourth album, puts his vocal versatility on impressive display. Supported by a moody, shadowy string section, he unfurls a torch-singer side on "Cold," a heartbreaker that lives up to its name in feel and lyrics—"Why you got to be so cold/ Why you got to go and cut me like a knife/ Put our love on ice." The lowdown-and-dirty guitar of "Whiskey Sunrise" is matched for power by a wailing blues delivery from Stapleton. And he cuts loose with a Southern-rock howl on the Tom Petty-esque swamp stomp "Devil Always Made Me Think Twice." An early Petty influence is alive and present across Starting Over, with Heartbreakers Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench guesting on guitar and Hammond B3, respectively. Stapleton co-wrote the simmer-to-fury "Watch You Burn" with Campbell, and the guitarist's signature style is front-and-center on "Arkansas," a heavy Southern-rock blues burner celebrating the underrated beauty of the Ozarks. The ghost of Guy Clark also blesses the sessions, as Stapleton covers a back-to-back shot of the songwriter's "Worry B Gone" and "Old Friends" and former with a velocity that makes Willie Nelson's gentle version sound cute. (A flow-like-the-creek cover of John Fogerty's "Joy of My Life" is more faithful.) As on previous releases, Stapleton's wife and collaborator Morgane Stapleton lends angelic vocal harmonies, sweetening the sobering, Kristofferson-sounding ballad "When I'm With You," which find her husband taking stock of middle age and where it goes from there: "I'm 40 years old/ And it looks like the end of the rainbow ain't no pot of gold." She also shows up on that song's spiritual flip side and the album's title track, an optimistic, stripped-down guitar jangle: "I can be your lucky penny/ You can be my four-leaf clover.” Indeed, for all his tough-guy appearance, there's always been a tender side to Stapleton, and he shows every bit of it on "Maggie's Song," an absolute tearjerker about a found dog's life and death that's teed up and ready for a pickup truck commercial. (Nothing wrong with that.) And lest anyone ever doubt his outlaw tendencies, Stapleton ends on an absolutely gorgeous kiss-off to the country capital: "So long Nashville, Tennessee/ You can't have what's left of me." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Often cited as one of the best hip-hop albums of the '90s, Illmatic is the undisputed classic upon which Nas' reputation rests. It helped spearhead the artistic renaissance of New York hip-hop in the post-Chronic era, leading a return to street aesthetics. Yet even if Illmatic marks the beginning of a shift away from Native Tongues-inspired alternative rap, it's strongly rooted in that sensibility. For one, Nas employs some of the most sophisticated jazz-rap producers around: Q-Tip, Pete Rock, DJ Premier, and Large Professor, who underpin their intricate loops with appropriately tough beats. But more importantly, Nas takes his place as one of hip-hop's greatest street poets -- his rhymes are highly literate, his raps superbly fluid regardless of the size of his vocabulary. He's able to evoke the bleak reality of ghetto life without losing hope or forgetting the good times, which become all the more precious when any day could be your last. As a narrator, he doesn't get too caught up in the darker side of life -- he's simply describing what he sees in the world around him, and trying to live it up while he can. He's thoughtful but ambitious, announcing on "N.Y. State of Mind" that "I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death," and that he's "out for dead presidents to represent me" on "The World Is Yours." Elsewhere, he flexes his storytelling muscles on the classic cuts "Life's a Bitch" and "One Love," the latter a detailed report to a close friend in prison about how allegiances within their group have shifted. Hip-hop fans accustomed to 73-minute opuses sometimes complain about Illmatic's brevity, but even if it leaves you wanting more, it's also one of the few '90s rap albums with absolutely no wasted space. Illmatic reveals a great lyricist in top form meeting great production, and it remains a perennial favorite among serious hip-hop fans.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Natty Dread is Bob Marley's finest album, the ultimate reggae recording of all time. This was Marley's first album without former bandmates Peter Tosh and Bunny Livingston, and the first released as Bob Marley & the Wailers. The Wailers' rhythm section of bassist Aston "Family Man" Barrett and drummer Carlton "Carlie" Barrett remained in place and even contributed to the songwriting, while Marley added a female vocal trio, the I-Threes (which included his wife Rita Marley), and additional instrumentation to flesh out the sound. The material presented here defines what reggae was originally all about, with political and social commentary mixed with religious paeans to Jah. The celebratory "Lively Up Yourself" falls in the same vein as "Get Up, Stand Up" from Burnin'. "No Woman, No Cry" is one of the band's best-known ballads. "Them Belly Full (But We Hungry)" is a powerful warning that "a hungry mob is an angry mob." "Rebel Music (3 O'Clock Road Block)" and "Revolution" continue in that spirit, as Marley assumes the mantle of prophet abandoned by '60s forebears like Bob Dylan. In addition to the lyrical strengths, the music itself is full of emotion and playfulness, with the players locked into a solid groove on each number. Considering that popular rock music was entering the somnambulant disco era as Natty Dread was released, the lyrical and musical potency is especially striking. Marley was taking on discrimination, greed, poverty, and hopelessness while simultaneously rallying the troops as no other musical performer was attempting to do in the mid-'70s.© Jim Newsom /TiVo

These two never let up. Nas and Hit-Boy have been building an absolutely thrill-packed dual rap oeuvre since 2020 and the King's Disease album. This is their fifth joint album in three years, a sign of unbridled productivity, of course, but above all of an immediately tangible pleasure in creating together, nourished by an inspiration that never seems to leave them. There's nothing autopilot about Magic 2. Nas continues to try new things, as on Office Hour, where he juggles with a rhythm composed by his partner, and onto which he invites 50 Cent, who brings lots of soul despite finally starting to show his age a little. This magical album is proof that golden hands of rap legacy can still produce nuggets, as the track Abracadabra makes clear, with its mix of fun and exposition. But it also shows a martial spirit; a desire to hit hard at every point, without sparing any energy. It's what made them the legends they are, and will be the last thing to leave them. Intense, but never tiring. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz 

If you’re searching for a multi-talented musician who never stops, look no further than Ibrahim Maalouf. In September 2018, he released the challenging Levantine Symphony No.1, and just two months later he released a recording of his live performance at the AccorHotels Arena from late 2016. The following summer he hit the road in France, teaming up with Haïdouti Orkestar to bring us an album inspired by Balkan music. His famous quarter-tone trumpet knows no limits and he is certainly not about to put it down any time soon. Now, in the autumn of 2019, he is releasing his 14 th album in twelve years, S3NS, which ventures into Afro-Cuban territory. At the beginning of S3NS, Harold Lopez-Nussa’s piano is followed by a handful of soft chords, setting the theme with Una Rosa Blanca, which, as it unfolds, gives both instruments the freedom to enjoy a lively back and forth to a caliente rhythm. The next track, Happy Face, is by Argentine composer Lalo Schifrin and could easily fit into the soundtrack for an action film (Bullitt, Mission Impossible, Starsky & Hutch). The title track itself is fairly typical of Lebanese romanticism and lyricism, ranging from moments of saudade to moments of pure joy. We’re then transported to Cuba for Harlem where Chucho Valdès’s protégé, Irving Calao, takes his place behind the piano for some heart-felt Latin-jazz. The pianist then hands over to violinist Yilian Canizares for the very joyful Na Na Na, followed by newcomer pianist from Havana, Alfredo Rodriguez, who makes his mark on N.E.G.U. Next, Gebrayel features not only Cuban pianist Roberto Fonseca but also Belgian pianist Eric Legnini and his fellow musicians François Delporte on guitar and Stéphane Galland on drums. After this Latino infusion we’re then brought back to a state of calm with a suave trumpet-piano duo in All I Can’t Say, and piano and trumpet come hand in hand once again at the beginning of Radio Magallanes, which is the name of a Chilean radio station that supported Salvador Allende’s socialist policies. The song opens on a sad note before picking up halfway through with an onslaught of guitars, brass and percussion and lets the voice of the former president be heard, as he was overthrown by dictator Augusto Pinochet. With those unmistakeable accents and verve, the sound of Ibrahim Maalouf’s trumpet is truly glorious all the way through this album. © Benjamin MiNiMuM/Qobuz

“It’s a new decade, I’m in a whole new arena.” Nas knows that times have changed. But he’s at it again: his ability to depict his world and feelings makes him a rapper that is anything but irrelevant, even at 50 years old. His series of collaborations with the producer Hit-Boy continues with Magic 3, an album characterized by its writer’s ability to present himself as a role model, now and forever, and by his incomparable way of avoiding an ego trip. Magic 3 differs from its predecessors. Hit-Boy changes his production paradigm, still based on sampling, yes, but with samples that he modifies only slightly and loops with respect. He can then compose with the original rhythmics, taking away some of the heaviness in order to lean into the variety in the beats. And then, sometimes, just because he feels like it, and also because it’s important to make your voice heard, hip hop reclaims its musical rights, warlike, for example on the track “I Love This Feeling.” The two heavyweights manage, yet again, to draw in the listener thanks to their technique and expertise.  © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

Recorded at Wally Heider's Studio III in Los Angeles and first released 29 May, 1969 on Atlantic Records, this album was remastered in 2012 and reissued in Hi-Res. This Crosby, Stills & Nash self-titled debut album is one of the true masterpieces of the rock'n'roll canon. 

David Crosby's debut solo album was the second release in a trilogy of albums (the others being Paul Kantner's Blows Against the Empire and Mickey Hart's Rolling Thunder) involving the indefinite aggregation of Bay Area friends and musical peers that informally christened itself the Planet Earth Rock and Roll Orchestra. Everyone from the members of the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane to Crosby's mates in CSNY, Neil Young and Graham Nash, dropped by the studio to make significant contributions to the proceedings. (Jerry Garcia, Phil Lesh, and Bill Kreutzman, primarily, act as the ad hoc studio band, with other notables adding bits of flavor to other individual tracks.) Crosby, however, is the obvious captain of this ship. With his ringing, velvety voice -- the epitome of hippie crooning -- and inspired songwriting, he turns If I Could Only Remember My Name into a one-shot wonder of dreamy but ominous California ambience. The songs range from brief snapshots of inspiration (the angelic chorale-vocal showcase on "Orleans" and the a cappella closer, "I'd Swear There Was Somebody Here") to the full-blown, rambling Western epic "Cowboy Movie," and there are absolutely no false notes struck or missteps taken. No one before or since has gotten as much mileage out of a wordless vocal as Crosby does on "Tamalpais High (At About 3)" and "Song with No Words (Tree with No Leaves)," and because the music is so relaxed, each song turns into its own panoramic vista. Those who don't go for trippy Aquarian sentiment, however, may be slightly put off by the obscure, cosmic storytelling of the gorgeous "Laughing" or the ambiguous (but pointed) social questioning of "What Are Their Names," but in actuality it is an incredibly focused album. There is little or no fat despite the general looseness of the undertaking, while a countercultural intensity runs taut through the entire album, and ultimately there is no denying the excellence of the melodies and the messy beauty of the languid, loping instrumental backing. Even when a song as pretty as "Traction in the Rain" shimmers with its picked guitars and autoharp, the album is coated in a distinct, persistent menace that is impossible to shake. It is a shame that Crosby would continue to descend throughout the remainder of the decade and the beginning of the next into aimless drug addiction, and that he would not issue another solo album until 18 years later. As it is, If I Could Only Remember My Name is a shambolic masterpiece, meandering but transcendently so, full of frayed threads. Not only is it among the finest splinter albums out of the CSNY diaspora, it is one of the defining moments of hung-over spirituality from the era.© Stanton Swihart /TiVo

As opposed to the original official "Soundtrack" release, a single disc with the soundtrack elements edited and arranged into concert movements, this two-disc set has every note composed for The Phantom Menace, including a cue that was cut from the film. Buffs can readily hear how Williams introduces embryonic forms of familiar themes from the earlier films. For instance, the innocent lullaby for little Anakin Skywalker ends in a nine-note pattern that is the theme of the future Darth Vader's Imperial March. And Williams subtly uses harmonies to mark the character who is secretly plotting to become Emperor. However, in this form the music is totally subordinated to the film's dramatic form, rather than musical logic.This score is not so successful as coherent music, as the earlier films' scores were, as released in their final versions on RCA Victor. The cause is the same dramatic flaw that made the movie unexpectedly unsatisfying: it was really an extended set-up for a larger-scale story, without a central mythic hero who faces a defining ordeal. The score resultingly lacks a unifying focus, as well. Still, this release is a better portrayal of the music than the original soundtrack album, which threw away the concluding fight music, The Duel of the Fates, by making it track two. It is worth the extra cost for film score and Star Wars buffs, and includes some remarkable "desert music" not included in the original disc. It is very well played by Williams and the London Symphony Orchestra with the New London Children's Chorus and the London Voices, all stunningly produced by Williams and recorded by Shawn Murphy. It comes in a lavish package, with over sixty color shots from the movie in a bound-in presentation booklet, clearly aimed at fans and collectors.© TiVo

Marc-Antoine Charpentier's Messe de Minuit ("Midnight Mass") has been a popular work almost ever since it was composed around 1694, and it was one of the first French Baroque pieces to be recorded during the LP era. It is an absolutely irresistible Christmas piece, with French folk tunes woven into the polyphonic texture. This recording comes along just in time for the 2023 Christmas season, and it should find plenty of listeners. Ensemble Correspondances and leader Sébastien Daucé are specialists in the music of Charpentier, and they capture the particular lilt of this wonderful work with delicately elegant singing throughout. The ensemble is small, with just 11 singers; this may be a bit undersized in a French scene that favored big groups (choral performances at the king's court may have had 100 or more), but the mass was written for a small Jesuit group, and the dimensions feel natural. Another draw is the presence of two sizable small-ensemble cantatas, quite different from each other and sung with the right dramatic emphasis. Here, the forces are perfectly appropriate, and the sound engineering from the Seine Musicale concert hall is ideal. A very satisfying holiday release for the French Baroque lover in one's life.© James Manheim /TiVo