Two chords on the synthesiser and everything is said! More than enough to recognise the singular sound of Eurythmics, the emblematic band from the 1980s. The tandem of Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart symbolises perfectly this new synth-pop wave (pop in essence, futuristic in form) so typical of this decade during which guitars had almost become personae non-gratae… And while the British duo topped the charts during the entire decade, Sweet Dreams remains their greatest work. On the partition, Dave Stewart dabbled in a darker new wave, a-la Bowie (Love Is A Stranger) and dared venturing into “krautrock” light (Sweet Dreams). He could go funky (I’ve Got An Angel) or even disco (Wrap It Up). On vocals, Annie Lennox is impressive, as always, switching from soul to a bleak singing voice at will. A true classic! © Clotilde Maréchal/Qobuz

Coming off their work on Dntel's beautiful This Is the Dream of Evan and Chan, Jimmy Tamborello and Death Cab for Cutie's Ben Gibbard team up again for their full-length debut as Postal Service, Give Up. Instead of covering that EP's territory again, with this album the duo crafts a poppier, new wave-inflected sound that recalls Tamborello's work with Figurine more than Dntel's lovely subtlety. However, Ben Gibbard's famously bittersweet vocals and sharp, sensitive lyrics imbue Give Up with more emotional heft than you might expect from a synth pop album, especially one by a side project from musicians as busy as Tamborello and Gibbard are. The album exploits the contrast between the cool, clean synths and Gibbard's all-too-human voice to poignant and playful effect, particularly on Give Up's first two tracks. "The District Sleeps Alone" bears Gibbard's trademark songwriting, augmented by glitchy electronics and sliced-and-diced strings, while "Such Great Heights"' pretty pop could easily appear on a Death Cab for Cutie album, minus a synth or two. Despite some nods to more contemporary electronic pop, Give Up's sound is based in classic new wave and synth pop, at times resembling an indie version of New Order or the Pet Shop Boys. Songs like "Nothing Better," a duet that plays like an update on Human League's "Don't You Want Me?," and the video-game brightness of "Brand New Colony" sound overtly like the '80s brought into the present, but the tinny, preset synth and drum sounds on the entire album recall that decade. Sometimes, as on "Recycled Air" and "We Will Become Silhouettes," the retro sounds become distracting, but for the most part they add to the album's playful charm. The spooky ballad "This Place Is a Prison" is perhaps the most modern-sounding track and the closest in sound and spirit to Gibbard and Tamborello's Dntel work. The crunchy, distorted beats and sparkling synths recall both This Is the Dream of Evan and Chan and Björk's recent work; indeed, this song, along with the "All Is Full of Love" cover Death Cab included on their Stability EP, could be seen as an ongoing tribute to her. Overall, Give Up is a fun diversion for Tamborello, Gibbard, and their fans. It doesn't scale the heights of either of their main projects, but it's far more consistent and enjoyable than might be expected.© Heather Phares /TiVo

The biggest selling album of Barbra Streisand's career is also one of her least characteristic. The album was written and produced by Barry Gibb in association with his brothers and the producers of the Bee Gees, and in essence it sounds like a post-Saturday Night Fever Bee Gees album with vocals by Streisand. Gibb adapted his usual style somewhat, especially in slowing the tempos and leaving more room for the vocal, but his melodic style and the backup vocals, even when they are not sung by the Bee Gees, are typical of them. Still, the record was more hybrid than compromise, and the chart-topping single "Woman in Love" has a sinuous feel that is both right for Streisand and new for her. Other hits were the title song and "What Kind of Fool," both duets with Gibb. (The song "Guilty" won a Grammy Award for Best Pop Vocal by Duo or Group.)© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

In the '80s and '90s, England's dance music team Stock, Aitken & Waterman was often accused of being too slick for its own good, and favoring style over substance. But the producers/songwriters (also known for their work with Dead or Alive and Samantha Fox) should definitely be proud of their work on fellow Briton Rick Astley's often captivating debut album, Whenever You Need Somebody. While the high-tech production is very '80s, Astley's soul/pop/dance music approach is very much a production of the '70s -- sort of the Average White Band meets Philly soul/disco meets Tom Jones. The best dance music works both on and off the dancefloor, and this certainly holds true on such slick yet gritty fare as "Together Forever," "Never Gonna Give You Up," and "Don't Say Goodbye." There are a few weak moments -- the lackluster "No More Looking for Love" being a glaring example -- but overall, this CD proved Astley to be a welcome addition to the British R&B scene.© Alex Henderson /TiVo

The sheer tenacity -- albeit undeniably fitting -- of this double-disc set has made Black Moses (1971) one of Isaac Hayes' most revered and best-known works. The multi-instrumental singer/songwriter and producer had been a central figure in the Memphis soul music revolution of the mid-'60s. Along with Booker T. & the MG's, Hayes wrote and performed on more Stax sides than any other single artist. By the time of this release -- his fifth overall, and first two-record set -- Hayes had firmly established himself as a progressive soul artist. His stretched-out and well-developed R&B jams, as well as his husky-voiced sexy spoken "raps," became key components in his signature sound. Black Moses not only incorporates those leitmotifs, but also reaffirms Hayes abilities as an unmistakably original arranger. Although a majority of the album consists of cover material, all the scores have been reconfigured and adapted in such a fundamental way that, for some listeners, these renditions serve as definitive. This is certainly true of the extended reworkings of Jerry Butler's "Brand New Me" and Esther Phillips' "You're Love Is So Doggone Good" -- both of which are prefaced by the spoken prelude to coitus found in each respective installment of "Ike's Rap." The pair of Curtis Mayfield tunes -- "Man's Temptation" and "Need to Belong to Someone" -- are also worth noting for the layers of tastefully scored orchestration -- from both Hayes and his longtime associate Johnny Allen. The pair's efforts remain fresh and discerning, rather than the dated ersatz strings and horn sections that imitators were glutting the soul and pop charts and airwaves with in the mid-'70s. Hayes' own composition, "Good Love," recalls the upbeat and jive talkin' "Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic" from Hot Buttered Soul (1969), adding some spicy and sexy double-entendre in the chorus.© Lindsay Planer /TiVo

Ten albums and 15 years into their career, Death Cab for Cutie are as musically muscular as an arena-ready band. It's there on the title track of Asphalt Meadows, which sounds at times like New Order and sports a bit of Johnny Marr-esque guitar. "I'll Never Give Up On You" is almost menacing in its powerfully brooding instrumentation. "I Don't Know How I Survive" wraps in a surprisingly funky snaking guitar line, with frontman Ben Gibbard dragging out the word "listen" until it trails off like vapor; it all cracks open in a knockdown tsunami of sound at the chorus, and a blinding wash of guitar. You can hear—and feel—the muscularity on "Roman Candles," with rapid-fire drums and guitars that streak by like the firework it's named for. Gibbard has said it was written to reflect "a general sense of anxiety [as] the feeling that the fabric that weaves a functioning society together was crumbling during the pandemic." Indeed, that's a theme that pervades, as Death Cab becomes the latest act to file their "pandemic record" for posterity. Gibbard's plain-spoken poetry is particularly suited for the job. "It's been a battle just to wake and greet the day/ Then they all disappear like sugar in my coffee/ A hint of sweetness/ But the bitterness remains/ The acidity devouring my body," he sings on "Roman Candles." The edgy "I Miss Strangers'' probes at the lockdown conundrum of craving the public connection we all previously took for granted: "These days I miss strangers/ More than I/ More than I miss my friends." The Marr-like guitars return, like the sun forcing its way through the clouds, for  jubilant-sounding "Here to Forever," as Gibbard sings, "These days it's so hard to relax/ You've got to hold a gun to my back/ To make me smile." As always, there are captivating short stories packed into songs. "Wheat Like Waves"—with warm keys like a buttery salve—tells of catching up with an old friend: combining fine detail ("Prefab Sprout echoing out/ Of your '90s Accord/ With mismatched doors"), intriguing similes ("Your tattoos like the stamps on your passport") and universal ideas, this time about how fast time evaporates with age: "So little time/ So many miles to drive/ Before the endless sleep eventually arrives." And "Foxglove Through The Clearcut" finds the band in an experimental mode, playing with spoken verses and loose, oceanic guitar for a story about a man who lived by the ocean but feared the water; it ends at full tide, musically cresting and crashing, an overwhelming and maybe dangerous thing of beauty. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

If a music-nerd version of Animal House set in 2005 is ever made, "Daft Punk Is Playing at My House" -- the boisterous opener of LCD Soundsystem -- would make an ideal theme song for the fraternity on which it is based. The self-conscious, awkward music obsessives pledging into this fraternity would have to pass a complex trivia test, own a compulsory list of records, and, as a hazing ritual, ask to dance with someone in public. If LCD Soundsystem's James Murphy were the least bit open to the concept, he could be the fraternity's advisor. Judging from a handful of singles and this album, he'd be more than qualified. His first A-side, 2002's "Losing My Edge," laid all his cards on the table, name-checking nearly everything that has been branded indispensable by a record store clerk during the past 20 years. This is someone who clearly owns tons of records and cannot escape them when making his own music. Acid house, post-punk, garage rock, psychedelic pop, and at least a dozen other things factor into his songs, and he's not afraid to be obvious. On occasion, he doesn't even allow fellow nerds to play guessing games. This is the case with "Never As Tired As When I'm Waking Up" -- drowsy/dazed John Lennon vibes through and through -- as well as the drifting/uplifting "The Great Release" -- an alternate closer to either of Brian Eno's first two solo records. Otherwise, Murphy's songs cough up references from his subconscious or are put together as if he's thinking more like a DJ, finding ways to combine elements from disparate sources. "Movement" careens into high-energy guitar squall after a pounding beat and cranky synths; "On Repeat" happily replicates the scratches and jabs of guitar heard from A Certain Ratio, PiL, and Gang of Four, but its mechanical pulse and curveball synth effects couldn't be any more distanced from those three groups. Nothing here exceeds the brilliance of "Beat Connection" or "Yeah." Like just about everybody else these days, Murphy's more skilled at creating isolated tracks than making full-lengths, even though this particular full-length has few weak spots and unfolds smoothly as you listen to it from beginning to end. The bonus disc, containing all the stray single tracks, adds a great deal of value.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

Four years after 2018's relatively warm Thank You for Today, indie rock stalwarts Death Cab for Cutie issue their tenth set, Asphalt Meadows. For a group so deep into their careers, the album sounds surprisingly urgent and revitalized, like a band reborn against the tumultuous backdrop of the early 2020s. As Ben Gibbard sings on "Roman Candles," "It's been a battle just to wake and greet the day…but I am learning to let go." That track crackles to life in a great clatter, with bassist Nick Harmer, drummer Jason McGerr, and guitarists/keyboardists Dave Depper and Zac Rae propelling the song forward like the titular fireworks. The standout title track pushes the urgency even further, riding a Radiohead-esque undercurrent, just as the breakneck "I Miss Strangers" catapults Death Cab into Cure-meets-Silversun-Pickups territory on their rockingest song in years. These energetic highlights abound: "Here to Forever" is classic Death Cab, balancing yearning and uncertainty with Gibbard's typically evocative lyrics, and "Pepper" rides restrained guitar, tinkling piano, and a persistent beat like something from their early Atlantic years. On the dreamier end of the spectrum, the soft rock "Rand McNally" sprinkles sparkling production atop patient bass plucks, before the bittersweet storytelling of "Foxglove Through the Clearcut" carries Asphalt Meadows into the ether. That spaced-out sound returns at the close with the meandering "Fragments from the Decade" -- a programming/production spectacle that is as spacious as it is vulnerable -- and the epic "I'll Never Give Up on You," a showcase of buzzing electronics, dramatic piano chords, and layered vocals. Kicking off their third decade post-Barsuk, Death Cab continue their evolution in fascinating and rewarding ways, somehow managing to surprise with fresh directions and sounds yet unheard from this ever-reliable crew.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Steve Miller was always catchy and tuneful, but he never turned out an unabashed pop album until 1982's Abracadabra. This isn't just pop in construction, it's pop in attitude, filled with effervescent melodies and deeply silly lyrics, perhaps none more noteworthy than the immortal couplet "Abra-Abracadabra/I wanna reach out and grab ya." Those words graced the title track, which turned out to be one of his biggest hits, and if nothing else is quite as irresistibly goofy as that song, there still is a surplus of engagingly tuneful material, all dressed up in the psuedo-new wave production so favored by AOR veterans in the early '80s. All of that may not make this one of Miller's definitive albums, especially in the view of hardcore space blues heads, but it's pretty damn irresistible for listeners who find "Abracadabra" one of the highlights of faux-new wave AOR. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo