In 2012, Brit's Critic Choice Award, a best new artist prize for the United Kingdom's best talent, unsurprisingly went to Emeli Sandé, a woman being lauded for her crystalline voice and her immaculate songwriting skills. By the time her debut album, Our Version of Events, hit shelves, Sandé had already been a number one-selling singer and songwriter, and had her work covered by names such as Tinchy Stryder, Alesha Dixon, and Susan Boyle. Many call the 24-year old starlet a jack-of-all-trades, and after listening to her first full-length debut, it's easy to understand why. Events skip from genre to genre breezily, often being carried by Sandé's piercing voice. Sonically, the album sounds like a whisked-blend of Leona Lewis, Kate Bush, and Alicia Keys -- but, somehow, Sandé still establishes her own style between the airy coos, sultry piano melodies, and sprinkling of xylophones, synths, and bells. Sandé's strongest tracks are such a mixed-bag -- the Professor Green-spinoff "Read All About It (Part III)" is a raw interpretation of the massive pop single, "Lifetime" is a midtempo love song that's as engaging as a close listen as it is late at night, and the electrifying first single "Heaven" has all the makings of a vibrant dance record slicked up for the floor. A true feature of this album is the sheer quality of the compositions, which, for lack of a better term, are unexpectedly sophisticated and nuanced for a mainstream record. What holds the album back in parts is the fact that its tempo is too slow at times, however, Sandé makes up for it with passion and precision. Our Version of Events is an earnest collection of works by a woman who is as good a composer as she is vocalist, a lethal combination in today's pop music business. In this case, the Critic's Choice Award was well deserved.© Matthew Chisling /TiVo

The Kinks' second album, Kinda Kinks, was rush-recorded on either side (and in the midst) of a world tour that took them all the way to Australia in the course of bridging the 1964-1965 New Year. Under those circumstances, the fact that every cut but one was an original was no small tribute to the songwriting ability of Ray Davies, even if most of the songs were less than first-rate -- because what was first-rate was also highly memorable, and what wasn't also wasn't bad. In the space of two frantic late-December and mid-January sessions, and a brutal week in February of 1965, the group cut 11 songs to fill out a long-player that was already destined to contain "Tired of Waiting for You" (a product of the previous summer's work, held back by producer Shel Talmy for a single). Also along for the ride were the latter's driving B-side "Come on Now" and "Something Better Beginning" (both cut in December 1964). So the resulting record was uneven but filled with promise, and possessed of at least three bright spots -- additionally, and equally important, this album showcased a much more sophisticated sound, Dave Davies' guitar turned down (and even switched to acoustic in a couple of spots) as Ray Davies began exploring aspects of emotions and storytelling that transcended anything in the group's prior output -- "Nothin' in This World Can Stop Me Worryin' 'Bout That Girl" may have been a mouthful of a title, but it also put them right in the front of the British Invasion pack for seriousness and complexity, out in front of where the Beatles or almost any of the competition were in early 1965, but it didn't stop them from switching gears to the bluesy "Naggin' Woman."© Bruce Eder /TiVo

A good, although not classic or spectacular, early-'80s Manhattans album. The group dipped a bit from their 1980 peak, in part because the company chose to issue a greatest-hits album in 1980 rather than just ride out an internal situation and wait for a fresh release. They got two more chart hits out of the album, but never regained the momentum or status they enjoyed in 1980.© Ron Wynn /TiVo

Download not available

Download not available

Imagine Dragons give away the plot with the very title of Evolve, the 2017 sequel to 2015's sophomore set, Smoke + Mirrors. Not content to stay in one emotional or musical spot, Imagine Dragons consciously move forward on Evolve, pushing themselves into a positive place, a transition that mirrors lead singer Dan Reynolds working through a heavy depression. Some of that darkness seeped into Smoke + Mirrors, but it's not heard here. Opening with "I Don't Know Why," a glitzy dance-rock song that nods at a disco past but exists in an EDM present, the record often rides along to a neon pulse. It's not that Imagine Dragons have abandoned the heavy-footed stomp they patented on "Radioactive," but they've threaded in busy, percolating electronic beats and give plenty of space to gilded keyboards. When the tempo is quick, the results are festival-friendly electro-rockers. When the tempo is slow, the results feel like a hybrid of Coldplay and Mr. Mister -- power rock ballads spiked with laser drums. As throwback as that sensibility may be, the band strives to be thoroughly modern, emphasizing rhythms and gargantuan hooks to tightly constructed compositions. Whenever the group tries a new sound -- pumping up "Mouth of the River" with fuzz guitars or attempting a bit of rap-rock on "Start Over" -- it feels not like experimentation but like a quick scan through a new music playlist. And that means Evolve feels very much like the digital Zeitgeist of 2017.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

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

The "difficult second album" is one of the perennial rock & roll clichés, but few second albums ever were as difficult as Use Your Illusion. Not really conceived as a double album but impossible to separate as individual works, Use Your Illusion is a shining example of a suddenly successful band getting it all wrong and letting its ambitions run wild. Taking nearly three years to complete, the recording of the album was clearly difficult, and tensions between Slash, Izzy Stradlin, and Axl Rose are evident from the start. The two guitarists, particularly Stradlin, are trying to keep the group closer to its hard rock roots, but Rose has pretensions of being Queen and Elton John, which is particularly odd for a notoriously homophobic Midwestern boy. Conceivably, the two aspirations could have been divided between the two records, but instead they are just thrown into the blender -- it's just a coincidence that Use Your Illusion I is a harder-rocking record than II. Stradlin has a stronger presence on I, contributing three of the best songs -- "Dust n' Bones," "You Ain't the First," and "Double Talkin' Jive" -- which help keep the album in Stonesy Aerosmith territory. On the whole, the album is stronger than II, even though there's a fair amount of filler, including a dippy psychedelic collaboration with Alice Cooper and a song that takes its title from the Osmonds' biggest hit. But it also has two ambitious set pieces, "November Rain" and "Coma," which find Rose fulfilling his ambitions, as well as the ferocious, metallic "Perfect Crime" and the original version of the power ballad "Don't Cry." Still, it can be a chore to find the highlights on the record amid the overblown production and endless amounts of filler.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Her sensual voice is irresistible. Elizabeth Grant, aka Lana Del Rey, could sing the instruction manual for a wireless vacuum cleaner and she would still have our full attention. Even when she invites the whole world to join her (A$AP Rocky, The Weeknd, Stevie Nicks and Sean Lennon all featured on Lust For Life, her album released in 2017), she lives in her own little world where time moves slow and melancholy reigns supreme. Making music is her way of talking about her era, her contemporaries, the American Dream and, as far as we can tell, herself... With its shocking title, stylised album cover (featuring Duke Nicholson, Jack Nicholson’s grandson, aboard a boat sailing away from a burning coast) and her particularly slow tempos (only ballads here), Norman Fucking Rockwell! is largely rooted in folk. Del Rey roams around this great soundscape, more melancholic and evanescent than ever. She closely collaborated with Jack Antonoff on this album (a sought-after producer for pop stars such as Taylor Swift, St. Vincent, Lorde, Carly Rae Jepsen and Pink) and the producer shapes her melancholy with equal amounts of sobriety and slickness. The slow rhythms on this beautiful record offer a welcome break from the turbulence of today. One of the tracks that stands out is a cover of Sublime’s Doin’ Time (1996), itself a new interpretation of Gershwin’s Summertime, offering further proof of Lana Del Rey’s originality, something which is much more complex than some would have us believe... © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

The twin polarities upon which Use Your Illusion has always derived its unique energy from are its absolute bigness and its unparallelled sense of vindictive martyrdom. This deluxe set—which doubles the length of the combined two original albums by including two full live sets—is definitely big, but without the inclusion of additional studio tracks (no demos, b-sides or outtakes) doesn't expand on the original in any meaningful way.  Which means that Illusion is still trapped in its own unique 1991 amber. From its odd sequencing—which alternates between melodramatic grandiosity, midtempo sleaze, and energetic rockers built solely on bitterness and spite—to the stultifying airlessness of the recording (all of the band members cut their parts separately), Illusion still feels like an overdetermined mess that somehow manages to consistently deliver the goods. Sadly though, those goods are steeped in an aimless rage that these days reads less like anti-authoritarianism and more like toxic narcissism. This is an album that gets out a "fuck you" in its first two minutes, and devolves from there into a master class on petty beefing: Whether it's "Right Next Door To Hell," "Get In the Ring," "My World" (ugh), "Back Off Bitch" (ugggghh), or any of the other tracks where poor Axl Rose blames all of his problems on everyone else in the world, the constant airing of tiny grievances is far more deadening than the set's length. All of this made Use Your Illusion a deeply cynical yet completely sincere work. Although it's incredibly indulgent and self-centered, it's almost certainly an accurate representation of the band's perception of the world at the time. Its deep currents of misogyny were both casual and aggressive, but also completely unapologetic, which is both alarming and pathetic. Sounds like a terrible album, right? It most definitely is not. Weirdly conceived and recorded? For sure. Problematic? Yup. Highly individual and completely non-reproducible by any other band on Earth? Absolutely. Even now, some 30 years later, it still manages to yield treasures. Tracks that were overlooked in the overwhelming onslaught of the original release are well worth revisiting; the druggy blues-rock of "Bad Obsession, "Locomotive" with its sideways reworking of "Welcome to the Jungle," "The Garden" (which sounds like a leftover from the first Masters of Reality album with an Alice Cooper rap shoved in the bridge), or the Duff McKagan-penned Johnny Thunders tribute "So Fine" all hold up remarkably well. The live shows are revelatory: The Use Your Illusion tour was as extravagant and overblown as the album(s) it was promoting, running for nine legs over 30 months with nearly 200 dates played.  It was truly one of the last of its kind from an on-the-charts rock 'n' roll band, represented here by a warmup theater gig at the Ritz in New York in May, 1991, and an arena show on the UNLV campus as the tour was running at full speed eight months later. Remarkably, both sets exhibit a warm and generous band giving their absolute all to the fans in attendance, turning the somewhat clinical performances of Illusion's album versions into explosive renditions on stage. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

With his second solo album released in November 1982, the former Genesis drummer/singer eyes a slightly more pop sound, which leans ever so wonderfully into Soul and R&B. We thus find in the heart of this Hello, I Must Be Going, a great cover of You Can't Hurry Love by Diana Ross' The Supremes, a single which would go on to top the British charts with near ease. This album, brilliantly produced by Phil Collins himself, (the 100% 80s sound ages rather well, and with the album finally remastered in 24-Bit Hi-Res, it really comes alive) is most remarkable for Collins' unique vocals combined with the unerring ability to sign off hit songs where rhythm is always at the heart. For a drummer, perhaps its not that surprising ... © CM/Qobuz

Swedish DJ Avicii is a strange case. In 2011, he broke through with "Levels," a bleepy and bright bit of EDM that could have been his signature hit, but then his 2013 album, True, was a country-pop and folk-inspired affair that thrilled his fans with its inventiveness, but left others as cold as a meandering Mumford & Sons remix effort. Two years later, his LP Stories is another genre-busting affair that fits in better with mainstream radio than it does the club, but everything iffy about True has been perfected here, as the producer revisits the song-oriented album and lets the outside genres freely come and go. Country-pop is back in EDM remix form when "Broken Arrows" offers a spirited Zac Brown song with Avicii pumping it higher during the whirlwind bridge, but "Pure Grinding" is a highlight that would have never fit on True, and it lives up to its claim to be "funktronica" with double-dutch lyrics and '70s electro in support. "Touch Me" is a bell-bottomed delight that owes a debt to the disco movement, specifically Chic, and if the strange "City Lights" is the album's most arguable track, fans of Meco and Giorgio Moroder could argue it's spot-on with its robot vocals and tiny melody. "Talk to Myself," with Sterling Fox, steps into the '80s with a modern version of Matthew Wilder's "Break My Stride," and the rest of the prime moments come from the mainstream pop side of the spectrum, with the Martin Garrix and Simon Aldred (Cherry Ghost) feature "Waiting for Love" leading the pack. "Can't Catch Me," with Matisyahu and Wyclef Jean, is reggae, but the kind that Michael Franti and Radio Margaritaville can agree on, while "For a Better Day" is the same kind of electro and soul that Moby took to the top of the charts. Complaints that this isn't a dance album and doesn't sound like "Levels" may still be filed, but they're better applied to True. The pleasing, alive, and diverse Stories is a fine reason to think of Avicii as a producer of attractive music, with EDM, pop, and all other genres on a sliding scale.© David Jeffries /TiVo

After their 1968-1972 hit records Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers and Exile on Main Street, the Rolling Stones’ inspiration began to take a nosedive. One year after the honest record Goats Head Soup, the self-proclaimed greatest rock'n'roll band in the world released It's Only Rock'n Roll in October 1974. The indispensable Jimmy Miller, producer of their five previous records, was no longer with them and so Mick and Keith had fun behind the console under the pseudonym ‘The Glimmer Twins’. By then untouchable world stars, The Rolling Stones on this 12th studio album were decadent and totally indifferent to the hits of the time. What they offered up was rather different from the content of their golden age. It's Only Rock'n Roll sounded like free-wheeling rock, with the unmistakeable Rolling Stones sound (Richards’ copyrighted riffs and Jagger’s inimitable voice included) but without the songwriting to match that of their past hits. Songs such as Dance Little Sister, Short and Curlies or the rather energetic cover of the Temptations’ Ain't Too Proud to Beg still showcase the freshly 30-year-old Englishmen’s know-how. And the eponymous It's Only Rock'n Roll managed to become a sort of mini anthem that continued to be sung on stage for decades. This record is above all Jagger’s show. On ballads such as If You Really Want to Be My Friend, his voice reaches new heights. And on the very funky Fingerprint File, he recalls his visceral passion for furious rhythms. As disco began to take off, he dreamt of himself as the living god of this glittering musical style – a style that’s light years away from the DNA of his band. It's Only Rock'n Roll is the last Rolling Stones album with Mick Taylor (later replaced by Ron Wood who already features on one track) whose occasional solos remind us that he is technically superior to his boss. One wonders if, in the end, the iconic album cover by the Belgian cartoonist Guy Peellaert isn't the real masterpiece of this sometimes endearing but a little shaky album. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

By most metrics, Röyksopp's Profound Mysteries project is everything longtime fans could want: sleek Nordic synth pop, a grand return to the album format, and collaborations with left-field mavericks like Alison Goldfrapp, Jamie Irrepressible, Susanne Sundfør, and Astrid S, among others. Launched in April 2022, the Norwegian electronic duo's first proper album in eight years arrived as a highly conceptualized world of off-putting visual "artifacts" (each song is paired with its own digital music-visualizer), short films, cinematic instrumentals, and lush downtempo pop songs fronted by a highly curated cast of vocalists. A second volume followed in August, revealing a similar, though slightly altered, guest list, and the project now concludes with November's Profound Mysteries III. For those counting, that's 30 new tracks, 30 artifacts, and 30 films. Since their debut around the turn of the millennium, Svein Berge and Torbjørn Brundtland have consistently produced at the top of their game, but even by their own standards, 2022 saw an absolute deluge of new content. Like its two predecessors, this third set dances between light and darkness, exploring the parameters of Röyksopp's hallmark sound on highlights like the glacial, string-laden "So Ambiguous," with its very understated vocal from Irrepressible, and the menacing, nearly 10-minute instrumental centerpiece "Speed King." At its peak, the latter track feels like an Antarctic rave or the soundtrack to a high-speed snowmobile chase, proving that Berge and Brundtland can still bring the thunder to the dancefloor. Both Sundfør and Goldfrapp are back, though their unique talents feel a bit wasted on their respective cuts, "Stay Awhile" and "The Night," two underwhelming tracks that feel like paler sequels to their earlier contributions. Detroit's Maurissa Rose adds a rare bit of American flair to Röyksopp's overwhelmingly European palette on "Feel It," and Londoner Pixx helps end the project on a high note with the dynamic "Like an Old Dog." Standouts aside, Profound Mysteries III feels like the weakest link in this ambitious, year-long project which, while exciting to behold, probably could have been condensed into a one exceptional album. © Timothy Monger /TiVo

Widely considered as one of the greatest and most important rap albums of all time, The Notorious B.I.G.'s Ready To Die is an indisputable masterpiece and one of the cornerstones of East Coast rap. Released by Sean "Puffy" Combs' Bad Boy Records in September, 1994, Biggie's debut album paved the way for countless future stars and signalled the beginning of an East Coast revival. Coming straight from the streets of Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, The Notorious B.I.G. paints a picture of the darker, criminal side of early '90s New York, drawing mainly from personal experience. In contrast to the West Coast glamorization and glorification of the criminal lifestyle, Ready To Die includes tracks which give a brutally honest account of a crook’s life on the streets, something which helped Biggie gain the respect of the masses. The album also explores some of the rapper’s deeper and more troubling thoughts and emotions with tracks such as "Everyday Struggle" and the distressing late night phone call of "Suicidal Thoughts". The album’s lead single, "Juicy", went gold just over three months after its release, with following singles "Big Poppa" and "One More Chance" both certified platinum less than a year later. These three tracks signaled the arrival of the artist the East Coast had been waiting for to lead the charge against the West Coast dominance started by Dr. Dre and co. As well as telling the story of the streets, Biggie spends parts of the album explaining how his focus on music was a way for him to take a step back from the criminal lifestyle, something he demonstrates on "Machine Gun Funk" with the lyrics "Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me" and "I’m doing rhymes now, f*** the crimes now." However, the album also makes it clear that despite turning over a new leaf, it can be hard for someone who once had "a key knee deep in the crack game" ("Things Done Changed") to cut all ties with their past life. "Warning" documents a robbery attempt by two men who had heard of the known ex-drug dealer’s rise to the top of the rap game, and ends with Biggie firing two fatal shots, a poetic way of conveying the difficulty the rapper had in distancing himself from street life. Never shying away from telling his own story, "Respect" sees Biggie map out his turbulent life for us, from birth to dope smoking teen, drug dealer, convict, and finally rap sensation. With its old school loops and lucid yet humorous lyrics, Ready To Die cemented itself in rap folklore and marked the start of a career that was tragically ended far too soon with the rapper’s shooting in March, 1997. © Euan Decourt / Qobuz

Sting seemed to tire of pop songs sometime early in the 21st century, wandering away from the format after 2003's well-mannered Sacred Love. Over the next 13 years, he entertained his esoteric interests -- he collaborated on a classical album, he rearranged his old tunes for an orchestra, he reunited the Police, he wrote a musical -- before he returned to pop/rock with 2016's 57th & 9th. The fact that he named this comeback album after the intersection he crossed on his way to the studio speaks to the workmanlike aspect of 57th & 9th: there is no grand concept, no unifying aesthetic -- it's merely a collection of pop songs. This is hardly a bad thing. Sting has often undervalued his skills as a craftsman, so hearing him deliver ten sharply crafted songs is appealing. Playing with a studio band featuring drummer Josh Freese and guitarist Lyle Workman, Sting manages to work up a head of steam on occasion -- "I Can't Stop Thinking About You" opens the album with an insistent pulse, "Petrol Head" evokes memories of "Synchronicity II" -- but he spends as much time delivering tunes with a delicate touch. Much of the last half of the record is devoted to introspection, but unlike the fussy Sacred Love, the ballads here benefit from a brighter, open production and a singer/songwriter who feels invested in sculpting his melodies with the same care that he gives his lyrics. Sting sifts through familiar territory with songs of protest sitting alongside songs of yearning and love, and it all adds up to record that's simultaneously unassuming and revealing: through its modest nature, 57th & 9th stands as a testament to Sting's inherent gifts as a songwriter and record-maker. © Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo