Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe aren't often discussed as one of pop music's great songwriting teams, but the wonderfully eclectic body of work they've created as Pet Shop Boys speaks for itself. Since crashing into the mainstream with 1985's chart-topper, "West End Girls," the London duo have delivered a remarkably consistent barrage of tightly crafted synth pop singles that fuse dance culture with trenchant cultural commentary and an undeniable sense of melodic grace. Each of their 14 albums has reached the U.K. Top Ten, and they've sent an astonishing 42 singles into the Top 30, including number ones like "It's a Sin" and "Heart." A bevy of compilations have celebrated Pet Shop Boys' highlights over the years, and 1991's Discography: The Complete Singles Collection was a significant number three hit itself. 2023's Smash: The Singles 1985-2020 is essentially an update of the aforementioned collection and contains, in chronological order, each of their singles from this 35-year period. In unpacking its 55-song sequence, the first thing one notices is the uniform quality of their songs: elegantly constructed, dense with pop nutrients, undeniably catchy, yet ever so smart. Tennant is an underrated vocalist who has continually pushed his range over the years, balancing wry asides and spoken word sections with his reedy and surprisingly nimble tenor. Lowe's ear for a catchy hook is another defining element and ranges from subtle (1990's droll standout "Being Boring") to grandiose (2013's marvelous banger "Love Is a Bourgeois Construct"). What's more, the pair has assembled this durable catalog almost without interruption, reliably delivering singles, albums, remixes, and EPs almost annually since their debut. Work ethic and quality don't always go hand in hand, but Pet Shop Boys have both in spades.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

There's a neat trick that Brooklyn's Beach Fossils pulls off on the band's fourth album, Bunny, in which time seems suspended. For nearly 40 minutes, no matter where you are, the setting morphs into a lazy summer afternoon where nothing else needs to be done. Dustin Payseur's songs bounce like paper boats on water ("Tough Love"; "Dare Me" and it lyrical sighs like "Spinning your wheels/ To the edge of this town/ She said, 'LA's so small/ When you're looking straight down'"), jangle and beam with bright rays of guitars ("Anything is Anything"), and find the rhyme in "easy-going" and "melatonin" ("(Just Like the) Setting Sun"). There are shades of Ride's hazy shoegaze—especially within the humidity-thick layers of "Feel So High," which lives up to its title—and The Cure's sunny guitar tones across the board, but especially on cuts like "Sleeping On My Own." "Run to the Moon" features a great relaxed-fit bassline and a crisp hit of cello and viola to cut through the daydream mist. "Living in New York, it can grind you down," Payseur sings, world weary as ever. "I tell you it will grind you down." With Payseur as the only remaining member of the project he began in 2009, there's a clear thread of melancholy—and being fine with it—through the band's discography. "Don't Fade Away," he has said, is about "missing old friends, being on tour, self-medicating, longing, anxiety, love, being an idiot, having fun, embracing your mistakes and keeping your spark." "Out on tour/ I just finished/ This pack of cigarettes/ And I don't even smoke," he sings on that track, killing time before arriving at the catchy chorus: "She's novocaine/ It's all I need/ To ease the pain." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

That Leonard Cohen is still offering inspiration should come as no great surprise. Dubbing her album Anthem after a song by the Canadian singer, Madeleine Peyroux shows us her hand from the off. Perhaps it's her desire to get shot of the ghost of Billie Holiday to whom she has often been compared… But in 2018, Madeline Peyroux is very much Madeleine Peyroux! Style, voice, writing, she has mastered every part of her art and has nothing left to prove. This time, she leaves covers behind and offers new songs, written or co-written with Patrick Warren (Bonnie Raitt, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen), Brian MacLeod (Leonard Cohen, Tina Turner), David Baerwald (Joni Mitchell, Sheryl Crow) and producer Larry Klein (Joni Mitchell, Shawn Colvin, Herbie Hancock). The lyrics are often politically-engaged, and she sets them lovingly to soft-to-downright-melancholy music. The overall effect is one of weightlessness. The arrangements and the production have a velvety feel, and while she takes on Paul Eluard's powerful poem Liberté, she does it with a delicate touch that renders the words even stronger. As is often the case with Peyroux, the boundaries between jazz, pop, soul, blues and folk are savvily blurred together. This makes for a great showcase for her voice, one of the most addictive of her generation. © Max Dembo/Qobuz

Ben Harper is a musical preacher of sorts, never one to be shy in speaking his mind about social conformity. If his first two albums -- Welcome to the Cruel World and Fight for Your Mind -- didn't clue you in, Diamonds on the Inside will definitely do so. Diamonds on the Inside marks Harper's fifth studio effort and this time he's emotionally in touch with what makes his heart burst. This is a passionate album, no doubt. His signature Weissenborn guitar joins him once more and Harper's classic groovy funk is heavy; however, Harper adds worldbeat to his musical plank. From the Marley-esque vibe of "With My Own Two Hands" to the African soundscapes of Ladysmith Black Mambazo on "Picture of Jesus," Harper's purist presentation is smooth. "When It's Good" gives a little country blues twang, while "Touch From You Lust" is a sexy haze of writhing riffs. "Temporary Remedy" follows the funk Lenny Kravitz-style, and Harper's a bit campy. It's a noticeable change from his typically serious stature and a nice shift in personality, too. Diamonds on the Inside is another stunning effort from one of rock's underground heroes. Harper has consistently worked with what appeals to him musically for nearly a decade, ignoring what fits the mainstream. Diamonds on the Inside is Harper's sixth chapter of truth and just one listen to the electric blaze of "Everything" will convince you.© MacKenzie Wilson /TiVo

Having transformed her sound with 2017's empowered Life. Love. Flesh. Blood, Ireland's Imelda May continues her bold artistic metamorphosis with her sixth studio album, 2021's 11 Past the Hour. At turns dusky and ebullient, 11 Past the Hour builds nicely upon May's past work as she continues to move away from the twangy retro-rockabilly of her early years and fully embrace the anthemic, yet still organic pop/rock she showcased on Life. Love. Flesh. Blood. Co-produced by Tim Bran (James Morrison, London Grammar), the album finds May joined by an elite cadre of special guests, all of whom add their distinctive pop charisma to the proceedings. Early in her career, May's vintage-inspired Chuck Berry-esque rock caught the ear of Rolling Stones guitarist Ronnie Wood, who then brought her on tour with him in 2019. Here, Wood continues the goodwill, applying his crunchy electric guitar riffs to several tracks, including "Just One Kiss," a very Stonesy duet with another special guest, Oasis' Noel Gallagher. Wood also plays on "Made to Love" a soulful pop anthem featuring backing vocals by noted women's rights activists Gina Martin and Dr. Shola Mos-Shogbamimu. That May, who has worked on charities dealing with homelessness and domestic abuse, chooses to spotlight two nonprofessional singers with strong activist voices speaks to the deeper messages at play in her work here. Equally uplifting is "Don't Let Me Stand on My Own," a folky and soulful Celtic duet with singer Niall McNamee that brings to mind Rod Stewart's '70s work with the Faces. May also brings along Last Shadow Puppets' Miles Kane for the wicked, Berlin-esque post-punk anthem "What We Did in the Dark." Thankfully, none of the guest choices seem overly calculated and primarily feel like natural additions to the album. Furthermore, while the duets are a highlight, May's solo work also shines here as she delves into the Johnnie Ray-meets-Portishead-sounding title track and proves her diva mettle on the rousing piano ballad "Diamonds." With 11 Past the Hour, May has crafted a generous, collaborative album that feels like she's lifting others up, just as they are lifting her.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Ten years after Amy Winehouse's tragic and untimely death, the BBC is unearthing an impressive body of live recordings made by a singer who was unique among contemporary soul artists. This is actually a much-augmented version of At the BBC, which originally came out in 2012 with 24 tracks. This 2021 version of At the BBC packs 38 tracks (from 2004-2009) and over two hours of music: proof of this artist's power, as well as a document of her sometimes-ambiguous relationship with the scene. Here you can find Winehouse's performances on shows hosted by Jo Whiley, Jools Holland, and the late Pete Mitchell, who were always great champions of hers. On top of that, we have concerts recorded by UK radio (two with the Modfather, Paul Weller, making a guest appearance), as well as recordings of more intimate shows. In front of an audience, Amy would sometimes force her singing, as if tempted to go in for vocal pyrotechnics. But everything here is controlled and classy, as when she revisits standards like Lullaby of Birdland and I Should Care, or on a raw, powerful version of Rehab with Mitchell in 2006..During the 2000s, women soul singers were few and far between, and fewer still were those who really tried to develop and build on the eternal soul music laid down by Aretha Franklin, Ann Peebles, Nina Simone, Tina Turner, Dinah Washington and Marlena Shaw. As At the BBC reminds us, Amy Winehouse had a lithe, strong voice, real songs (which she wrote herself, unlike most of her peers), production values that felt vintage (but never old-fashioned), and a superb brass section. These unique traits all shine on the final part of this 2021 re-release of At the BBC with a 2007 concert at London's Porchester Hall, ending with a spicy cover of Monkey Man by Toots and the Maytals, which the Specials – adored by Winehouse – also revisited on their debut album. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

From its Nagel cover to the haircuts and overall design -- and first and foremost the music -- Rio is as representative of the '80s at its best as it gets. The original Duran Duran's high point, and just as likely the band's as a whole, its fusion of style and substance ensures that even two decades after its release it remains as listenable and danceable as ever. The quintet integrates its sound near-perfectly throughout, the John and Roger Taylor rhythm section providing both driving propulsion and subtle pacing. For the latter, consider the lush, semi-tropical sway of "Save a Prayer," or the closing paranoid creep of "The Chauffeur," a descendant of Roxy Music's equally affecting dark groover "The Bogus Man." Andy Taylor's muscular riffs provide fine rock crunch throughout, Rhodes' synth wash adds perfect sheen, and Le Bon tops it off with sometimes overly cryptic lyrics that still always sound just fine in context, courtesy of his strong delivery. Rio's two biggest smashes burst open the door in America for the New Romantic/synth rock crossover. "Hungry Like the Wolf" blended a tight, guitar-heavy groove with electronic production and a series of instant hooks, while the title track was even more anthemic, with a great sax break from guest Andy Hamilton adding to the soaring atmosphere. Lesser known cuts like "Lonely in Your Nightmare" and "Last Chance on the Stairway" still have pop thrills a-plenty, while "Hold Back the Rain" is the sleeper hit on Rio, an invigorating blast of feedback, keyboards and beat that doesn't let up. From start to finish, a great album that has outlasted its era.© Ned Raggett /TiVo

Former Best Coast frontwoman Bethany Cosentino has talked about having an old tattoo that reads "trust no one" and a new one that says "let it go." With her debut solo album, that change in attitude exudes familiar references that aren't always seen as cool but sure do feel good. The excellent "Calling on Angels" applies a sassy Linda Ronstadt delivery right down to the '70s Waddy Wachtel guitar sound. It's big, joyous, swinging fun and one of Cosentino's career bests. Catchy title track "Natural Disaster" oozes with '80s Cheez Whiz guitars and a Belinda Carlisle ease as Cosentino conflates the social-media placebo of being distracted by other people's lives with climate change dangers: "It's so much easier to focus on the things that don't involve me/ This is the hottest summer I can ever remember/ Because the world is on fire/ And, hey, if we're all dying/ Then what does it matter?/ We're a natural disaster." Credit the highly processed sound—that jangly California beach-sunset artifice—to producer Butch Walker. He does it so well, but he's also always taken care, with his own music as well as others', to let a singer's raw, true voice come through. Consentino sounds better than ever, her voice big and warm and able to knock down obstacles like some effortless gale force. On "For a Moment," she layers that power over, of all things, a sweet jangle reminiscent of "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer as she sings about living in fear but aiming to be present and not worry about what-if: "The hills behind our house/ Could literally just burst right into flames". She soars on the chorus of "Outta Time," with its countrified bounce à la early Sheryl Crow. There are jangling shades of Crow, too, on "It's Fine" and the piano ballad "Easy,"  which isn't so much a midlife crisis as an assessment—trying to figure out what to let go of and what to keep chasing: "I always thought I'd be a mother/ With a purpose to discover/ But the clouds cover me." "I've Got News for You" is as tender and vulnerable-not-weak as the Bette Midler classic "The Rose." "A Single Day" embraces a laid-back country feel, while "My Own City" picks up the '60s girl-group vibe that fueled early Best Coast songs. Tellingly, Cosentino has said that the band is on pause "indefinitely" because "Life is too short to not give yourself what you feel you need and want." ©  Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

The reels, jigs, strathspeys, airs, hornpipes, and more on this album suggest a folk release, but that is not quite so; the music is performed from printed notation and taken from publications of Scots and Irish "national" music in the 18th century. It is performed on a mixture of classical and folk instruments. Certainly, the distinction is, in some sense, an artificial one; it doesn't matter whether this is classical or folk music. This is the second such release by The Curious Bards, and either one might indeed be interesting to folk musicians, who may find that some of the tunes have survived the centuries in oral tradition. So have some of the performance practices; the pieces are mostly grouped into sets that may accelerate as they go along. Some of the vocal pieces are in Gaelic, others in English. To the classical side, published arrangements of folk music seem to have been an important part of 18th century musical life, and this repertory has been little explored; that makes this release by The Curious Bards valuable. Most of the music is anonymous, but there are a few pieces by the Irish national composer Turlough O'Carolan. The biggest reason to hear Indiscretion is that the music is thoroughly enjoyable. There is great variety in theme in the vocal pieces, from playful to sad, and rhythmically in the instrumental pieces, from the jigs to little variation sets to the spiky strathspeys. The performances are brisk and not precious, the singing by various vocalists unmannered. Anyone from either side of the folk-classical divide will enjoy this release.© James Manheim /TiVo

If there is one quality in Ibrahim Maalouf which can’t be denied, it is his feeling for large-scale spectacles. He flirts cheerfully with a variety of genres and styles, pushing his music beyond the borders of chanson, pop, hip-hop, rock, jazz and world music in one great unifying gesture. Each of the trumpeter’s projects showcase the ever-excessive, exuberant richness of his universe. This new ‘blockbuster’ of a release is probably the pinnacle of his style, and brings together renowned producers like Henry Was, Nutone and Tony Romera, alongside an impressive array of prestigious vocalists spanning the entire spectrum of contemporary popular music.The album creates a luxuriant, shimmering atmosphere through its epic production, using artists as diverse as Flavia Coelho, Alemeda, De la Soul, -M-, Tank and the Bangas, Dear Silas, DSmoke, Gregory Porter and Sharon Stone. It shifts cheerfully between moods, while resisting all the typical temptations of fusion music, which often entails stylistic clashes. In this tsunami of sound, Maalouf’s lyrical and elegant trumpet uncoils its refined melismas, conjuring a sound enriched by his oriental heritage, and adding an intimate colour to this hybrid, ultra contemporary performance. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

A half-century after the release of Karen Dalton's cult classic second album, In My Own Time sounds as magical as it always has; it was never—despite the album's title—that she was ahead of her time, but rather not of this world. Which is not to say she was some ethereal creature. After a whole life lived in her teenage years, married twice and with two kids, Dalton moved from Oklahoma to New York City to be part of the Greenwich Village 1960s folk scene alongside the likes of Tim Hardin and Neil Young. Bob Dylan called her one of his favorites, saying "Karen had a voice like Billie Holiday." She reportedly hated the comparison, though you get why Dylan made it: it's the weary ache and that slim silver thread of hope that remains. You can hear it on her cover of George Jones' "Take Me;" the piano flutters like it needs a fainting couch, but Dalton turns the quiet plea into something wistful rather than desperate. "Take me to Siberia and the coldest weather of the winter time/ And it would be just like spring in California," she sings, drawing out that last word like it's some impossible oasis. (By then, Dalton had had two teeth knocked out in a fight between boyfriends.) It's in her jaunty delivery of the Holland-Dozier-Holland's "How Sweet It is" and her interpretation of Richard Manuel's psychedelic country-rock "In a Station," Dalton blowing like wind through some desolate space. And lord knows it's in her most famous song, the Scottish folk traditional "Katie Cruel." Helped along by high-lonesome banjo, it's as haunted as they come. "When I first came to town, they called me the roving jewel," Dalton sings, managing to make it sound like she's not broken by it all. "Now they've changed their tune, call me Katie Cruel." Credit her wavery, light-refracted voice and the way it reflects both a fragility of nature and a hardscrabble strength of circumstance. (While the story of folkie Fred Neil secretly recording Dalton's first album by not telling her the tape was running has been romanticized, it's also exploitative and manipulative.) Dalton, who would disappear after In My Own Time, battled heroin and alcohol addiction and died at age 55 after an AIDS diagnosis. But her influence carries on, in Angel Olsen, Lucinda Williams, Sharon Van Etten, Courtney Barnett and Nick Cave, to name a few. This new expanded and remastered edition includes alternate takes of "In My Own Dream," "Something on Your Mind" and "Katie Cruel." The latter two light a small fire under the beat, but find Dalton less declarative, like she's consoling a friend in hushed tones. There are also several live tracks. "Take Me," captured in April 1971 in Germany, is so intimate it's disarming, Dalton's voice cracking on the line "like heaven to me." But there is strength—an almost defiance—on the songs from her Montreaux performance a month later, even in "Blues on the Ceiling" when she predicts she'll "Never get out of these blues alive." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Refusing to be pigeon-holed sounds like a noble artistic strategy, but it can make for a musical career that's everywhere and nowhere. Notorious as the alt-country insurgent who hated Nashville's country music machine so much that he wrote a song about it with an F-bomb in the title, Robbie Fulks has tried on several musical personas including rocker, humorist and curmudgeon with varying degrees of success. Age and experience have now turned Fulks toward another obvious influence—bluegrass, an artform where the chops are so uniformly impeccable that lesser talents quickly realize they have no place to hide.   Bluegrass bands are collections of soloists who, when successful, can still play nice with others; aware of this tradition, Fulks stacks the deck here with genre's royalty like Sam Bush (mandolin), Tim O'Brien (mandolin), John Cowan (vocals), Jerry Douglas (dobro) and Compass records co-owner Alison Brown (banjo). In this imposing company, Fulks manages to hold his own, partly because these are his songs. He's also a reedy but impassioned vocalist and most of all, recognizes what he can and cannot sing. In "Lonely Ain't Hardly Alive," Fulks goes high and strident in a duet with tenor Randy Kohrs in convincing fashion. As his tribute to the first generation of players like Sam Bush that he heard as a child, "Longhair Bluegrass" explains Fulks' history with a music that "… spoke to me strong, and it still speaks to me" before airing his hopes: "And you know Monroe is still the king/ But now his church has a new wing/ Where an outcast like me can feel at home." In "Silverlake Reel" the players get in a swift groove and stretch out. "Nashville Blues" features Fulks and the great Tim O'Brien (Hot Rize) in a call and response vocal duet. The fast paced "Let the Old Dog In," the strongest tune on the record, is a breakdown with Douglas' dobro and the fiddle of Shad Cobb leading the way. A true believer in this difficult musical form, Robbie Fulks has done himself proud with compelling songs, credible singing and the spirit necessary to make it all feel genuine. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

In the year of his 90th birthday (which he would have celebrated on the 23rd of September 2020 had he not died in 2004), Ray Charles is honoured with a new 90-track compilation box set. Just another compilation like all the rest? Yes and no. Ray Charles is undoubtedly one of the most-compiled artists in the history of music. Published by Tangerine, the label that the musician set up at the end of the 50s to keep the rights to his songs, this box set starts out like all the others: with the post-Atlantic hits, Georgia On My Mind, Hit The Road Jack, One Mint Julep, Busted... These are timeless treasures of proto-soul, but there doesn't seem to be much novelty here. The rest is much more interesting, and much rarer: tracks recorded between the second half of the 1960s and the 2000s, many of which were only released on vinyl, never reissued on CD and until now unavailable on digital. This is the first time that Ray Charles' lesser-known years have been given the compilation treatment in this way, and it is a revelation. In the 90s and 2000s, the production of his songs had a synthetic feel, and they did not age too well. These rarer songs are often hidden gems of southern soul, flavoured with country and wrapped in sumptuous symphonic orchestrations. Whether he is singing the Muppets (It's Ain't Easy Being Green) or Gershwin (Summertime, a duet with Cleo Laine), Ray Charles is always deeply moving. Now, the dream is to hear reissues of all these albums in their entirety. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

The eagerly awaited follow-up to the supergroup's debut, Alpha landed with a resounding thud a year later. The album still managed to be a platinum-selling Top Ten hit, as did the leadoff single "Don't Cry," but where Asia managed to make old sounds fresh, Alpha fails miserably. Nothing on Alpha packs the sheer sonic force of the band's debut. Instead, much of the record is lightweight both lyrically and musically, leaning heavier on keyboard-laden ballads like "The Smile Has Left Your Eyes," which managed to scrape into the Top 40, and "My Own Time (I'll Do What I Want)." The only real meat on the record comes during the last cut, "Open Your Eyes" (and only at the end of the song). Rumored creative differences, the album's lukewarm reception, and flagging ticket sales for the ensuing tour led to lead singer John Wetton leaving the band before the year was out. Alpha is sorely disappointing, especially coming on the heels of a promising debut. © Tom Demalon /TiVo