Few are the career artists who can create music over the long haul that continually sounds fresh and contemporary without seeming faddish or desperate. Across eight solo studio albums, Norah Jones has effortlessly embraced the here-and-now, followed her muse and allowed her assured sense of self to carry her forward without any embarrassing missteps. Jones wanted to explore darkness on 2020's Pick Me Off the Floor, her most recent studio album, so she flipped the switch. Two years later she swerved to record Playing Along, an oft-buoyant album of duets with artists including Mavis Staples, Valerie June and Jeff Tweedy. It succeeded on its own terms. For Visions, Jones wanted to write with a single collaborator, Leon Michels, to make a mid-tempo record with session players and solo artists who've recorded with Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, Brazilian Girls, Joni Mitchell and others. So she invited him into the studio, shut the door and made Visions.Billed by Jones' label as a more carefree, upbeat record, Visions sets a mood across twelve soulful, wood-paneled originals. Despite mentions of dance or dancing in a few songs, it's often bliss driven by solitude that's suggested. The happy-go-lucky "On My Way" floats across its measures, a joyful ode to moving forward not with a partner or lover, but alone, where the notion that "no one cares what you have to say" lives in the same space as "in the dark you can dance and sway." That many of the ideas for Visions, as Jones has said, "came in the middle of the night or in that moment right before sleep," it makes sense that she's focused on solitude, and that she's embracing it."Everyday we do God's little dance," she sings on "Staring at the Wall," an uptempo groover with a twangy, Sun Records-suggestive guitar line and a piano-propelled counter melody that, combined with sturdy snare-drum snaps, could power a Saturday night dance floor at a dive bar. "Running" gets energy from a piano melody, a reverbed drum pattern and a layered chorus of Jones' voice adding responses. "Swept Up in the Night" is a ballad of longing set after midnight. Lost in a dream, Jones can't shake her memories of a certain someone: "I find you a thousand times/ Underneath the stones in my mind." These are sturdy songs, the kind that not only linger in the psyche, but are so well crafted as to be indestructible. © Randall Roberts/Qobuz

Songs in the Key of Life was Stevie Wonder's longest, most ambitious collection of songs, a two-LP (plus accompanying EP) set that -- just as the title promised -- touched on nearly every issue under the sun, and did it all with ambitious (even for him), wide-ranging arrangements and some of the best performances of Wonder's career. The opening "Love's in Need of Love Today" and "Have a Talk with God" are curiously subdued, but Stevie soon kicks into gear with "Village Ghetto Land," a fierce exposé of ghetto neglect set to a satirical Baroque synthesizer. Hot on its heels comes the torrid fusion jam "Contusion," a big, brassy hit tribute to the recently departed Duke Ellington in "Sir Duke," and (another hit, this one a Grammy winner as well) the bumping poem to his childhood, "I Wish." Though they didn't necessarily appear in order, Songs in the Key of Life contains nearly a full album on love and relationships, along with another full album on issues social and spiritual. Fans of the love album Talking Book can marvel that he sets the bar even higher here, with brilliant material like the tenderly cathartic and gloriously redemptive "Joy Inside My Tears," the two-part, smooth-and-rough "Ordinary Pain," the bitterly ironic "All Day Sucker," or another classic heartbreaker, "Summer Soft." Those inclined toward Stevie Wonder the social-issues artist had quite a few songs to focus on as well: "Black Man" was a Bicentennial school lesson on remembering the vastly different people who helped build America; "Pastime Paradise" examined the plight of those who live in the past and have little hope for the future; "Village Ghetto Land" brought listeners to a nightmare of urban wasteland; and "Saturn" found Stevie questioning his kinship with the rest of humanity and amusingly imagining paradise as a residency on a distant planet. If all this sounds overwhelming, it is; Stevie Wonder had talent to spare during the mid-'70s, and instead of letting the reserve trickle out during the rest of the decade, he let it all go with one massive burst. (His only subsequent record of the '70s was the similarly gargantuan but largely instrumental soundtrack Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants.)© John Bush /TiVo

The cosmopolitan Tingvall Trio was created in Hamburg in 2003 under the impetus of the Swedish pianist Martin Tingvall, who is accompanied by Cuban double bassist, Omar Rodriguez Calvo, and the German drummer, Jurgen Spiegel. They enjoyed some popularity in their early days, although this was largely confined to the Germanic world (they received two Echo Jazz Awards, including in 2012 that of “Best jazz formation in Germany”). Over the last ten years, however, the group has unquestionably been working hard to widen its reach by multiplying its number of successful albums and showcasing the charm of its acoustic, colourful, and ultra-melodic music directly at festivals around the world. With this new album Birds (its 9th in 20 years), the trio does not change its winning formula. Placing their hat down somewhere between the Avishai Cohen trio, Go-Go Penguin and E.S.T, they have maintained their contemporary trio art with acclaimed jazz bass mixes - both in their general grammar and orchestral dynamics - as well as their catchy pop-inspired melodies and Latin and Caribbean-inspired rhythms. This eclectic mix can almost be compared to the vast and harmonious Scandinavian landscapes. From a repertoire of small ritornellos, with voluntarily simple and precisely drawn forms, the Tingvall Trio develops a collective and clear discourse which showcases the group’s sound and a form of rhythmic joy which could easily revolutionise their formula, both from a formal and expressive viewpoint. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

Lana Del Rey is a femme fatale with a smoky voice, a languorous image, and a modeling contract. Not coincidentally, she didn't lack for attention leading up to the release of her Interscope debut, Born to Die. The hype began in mid-2011 with a stunning song and video for "Video Games," and it kept on rising, right up to her January 2012 performance on Saturday Night Live (making her the first artist since Natalie Imbruglia in 1998 to perform on SNL without an album available). Although it's easy to see the reasons why Del Rey got her contract, it's also easy to hear: her songwriting skills and her bewitching voice. "Video Games" is a beautiful song, calling to mind Fiona Apple and Anna Calvi as she recounts another variation on the age-old trope of female-as-sex-object. Her vacant, tired reading of the song rescues it from any hint of exploitation, making it a winner. Unfortunately, the only problem with Born to Die is a big one. There is a chasm that separates "Video Games" from the other material and performances on the album, which aims for exactly the same target -- sultry, sexy, wasted -- but with none of the same lyrical grace, emotional power, or sympathetic productions. Del Rey doesn't mind taking chances, varying her vocalizing and delivery, toying with her lines and reaching for cinematic flourishes ("he loves me with every beat of his cocaine heart," "Pabst Blue Ribbon on ice"), and even attempting to rap. But she's unable to consistently sell herself as a heartbreaker, and most of the songs here sound like cobbled retreads of "Video Games." An intriguing start, but Del Rey is going to have to hit the books if she wants to stay as successful as her career promised early on.© John Bush /TiVo

On her fifth studio album, Portraits, British singer/songwriter Birdy pushes her sound into new territory. Bringing elements of electronica to the mix, she also serves up a selection of uptempo cuts alongside her trademark fragile, introspective songs. The tracks "Raincatchers" and "Paradise Calling" are included.© Rich Wilson /TiVo

Love it or hate it, Over-Nite Sensation was a watershed album for Frank Zappa, the point where his post-'60s aesthetic was truly established; it became his second gold album, and most of these songs became staples of his live shows for years to come. Whereas the Flo and Eddie years were dominated by rambling, off-color comedy routines, Over-Nite Sensation tightened up the song structures and tucked sexual and social humor into melodic, technically accomplished heavy guitar rock with jazzy chord changes and funky rhythms; meanwhile, Zappa's growling new post-accident voice takes over the storytelling. While the music is some of Zappa's most accessible, the apparent callousness and/or stunning sexual explicitness of "Camarillo Brillo," "Dirty Love," and especially "Dinah-Moe Humm" leave him on shaky aesthetic ground. Zappa often protested that the charges of misogyny leveled at such material missed out on the implicit satire of male stupidity, and also confirmed intellectuals' self-conscious reticence about indulging in dumb fun; however, the glee in his voice as he spins his adolescent fantasies can undermine his point. Indeed, that enjoyment, also evident in the silly wordplay, suggests that Zappa is throwing his juvenile crassness in the face of critical expectation, asserting his right to follow his muse even if it leads him into blatant stupidity (ironic or otherwise). One can read this motif into the absurd shaggy-dog story of a dental floss rancher in "Montana," the album's indisputable highlight, which features amazing, uncredited vocal backing from Tina Turner and the Ikettes. As with much of Zappa's best '70s and '80s material, Over-Nite Sensation could be perceived as ideologically problematic (if you haven't got the constitution for FZ's humor), but musically, it's terrific.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Welcome To The Jungle, It’s So Easy, Nightrain, Mr Brownstone, Paradise City, My Michelle, Sweet Child O’ Mine, You’re Crazy… Look no further to explain the success of this monument that sold over thirty million copies worldwide: right from the start, it feels like a best-of album rather than a first studio effort… Even Out Ta Get Me, Think About You, Anything Goes and Rocket Queen, the four “weak tracks” of this masterpiece, would have satisfied fans of other bands who were sick of Guns N’ Roses at the time. Add to this two tracks that were sidelined at the time mostly for copyright reasons and are unearthed here, Shadow Of Your Love and Move To The City, as well as the studio version of Reckless Life. Though they feel like a walking disaster, this mighty gang had something others didn’t have in the microcosm of the Los Angeles hard rock scene: the ability to give birth to rock classics in record time. Some will no doubt find it unjust that the controversial track One In A Million was a kind of collateral victim of the reissue of Lies, from which it was removed. But this improved rerelease goes to show that, even if it wasn’t necessarily their goal, the musicians’ sound and performance are also two major components in any masterpiece. The reason they decided to include the before and after Appetite For Destruction, meaning the two EPs Live?!*@ Like a Suicide (the false live) and G N' R Lies, is because it is clear that all the ingredients were far from being in place at the Sound Studio where the twenty-ish alternative versions were recorded, featured here as a “bonus”. Mike Clink’s expert production, and Steve Thompson and Michael Barbiero’s calibrated and well-balanced mixing obviously helped give the selected original twelve songs their ultimate form. And therefore optimal efficiency. But other live or acoustic titles gleaned here and there to close out this reissue (Bob Dylan’s Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door (Live), It’s So Easy (Live), AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie (Live), November Rain (Acoustic), the very short but promising The Plague, the instrumental Ain’t Goin’ Down No More or the Rolling Stones’ Jumpin’ Jack Flash (Acoustic)) prove that the band’s five members went through a period, albeit much too short, in which they were touched by grace. And there will most likely be further proof if one day Axl Rose decides to unearth the version of the album he re-recorded in 1999 with the new Guns N’ Roses line-up, without Slash, Izzy Stradlin, Duff McKagan and Steven Adler. It was with this winning cast that Guns N' Roses beat the ultimate sales record for a first album in the United States. And although the multiple line-up evolutions that followed didn’t lead to any commercial disasters, they never gave the band the opportunity to repeat the feat of Appetite For Destruction. © Jean-Pierre Sabouret/Qobuz

If grandiloquence could take the form of an album, it would undoubtedly arrive in the form of Bat Out Of Hell. It's a real sorcery that comes out of the hat of composer Jim Steinman and is served as an offering to us by a possessed Meat Loaf. An improbable anthology of "over the top" moments that have gone down in history. With forty three million units sold, Bat Out Of Hell is a unique experience, so much so that I'm sure many people remember where they were when they first heard it. From the pure orchestral moments on For Crying Out Loud (featuring the New York Philharmonic Orchestra), to the title track and its ten minutes of intensity that will make you shy away from any karaoke night (or not), it is a true moment in history that is offered to your ears. Paradise By The Dashboard Light, which sees Meat sharing the mic with Ellen Folley, is a lesson in execution and composition, never equalled in the vocalist's career and reason enough to listen to Bat Out Of Hell alone. Nor will we forget the apocalyptic last minutes of All Revved Up With No Place To Go, a rock manifesto that paves the way for the magnificent Heaven Can Wait or Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad: "You can't imagine how hard I had to work to sing this album in the studio, you can't imagine how much we had to give of ourselves to make this album authentic, in its humour and in all that it embodies. A lot of people realise that when they actually try it, and still they don't." Unique, funny, often misunderstood and always inspired, just like its singer, Bat Out Of Hell is reaching out to you. We already miss you Meat Loaf. Maxime Archambaud / Qobuz

Stevie Ray Vaughan had always been a phenomenal guitarist, but prior to In Step, his songwriting was hit or miss. Even when he wrote a classic modern blues song, it was firmly within the genre's conventions; only on Soul to Soul's exquisite soul-blues "Life Without You" did he attempt to stretch the boundaries of the form. As it turns out, that was the keynote for In Step, an album where Vaughan found his own songwriting voice, blending blues, soul, and rock in unique ways, and writing with startling emotional honesty. Yes, there are a few covers, all well chosen, but the heart of the album rests in the songs he co-wrote with Doyle Bramhall, the man who penned the Soul to Soul highlight "Change It." Bramhall proved to be an ideal collaborator for Vaughan; tunes like the terse "Tightrope" and the dense "Wall of Denial" feel so intensely personal, it's hard to believe that they weren't the product of just one man. Yet the lighter numbers -- the dynamite boogie "The House Is Rockin'" and the breakneck blues of "Scratch-n-Sniff" -- are just as effective as songs. Of course, he didn't need words to make effective music: "Travis Walk" is a blistering instrumental, complete with intricate fingerpicking reminiscent of the great country guitarist Merle Travis, while the shimmering "Riviera Paradise" is every bit as lyrical and lovely as his previous charmer, "Lenny." The magnificent thing about In Step is how it's fully realized, presenting every facet of Vaughan's musical personality, yet it still soars with a sense of discovery. It's a bittersweet triumph, given Vaughan's tragic death a little over a year after its release, yet it's a triumph all the same.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Guns N' Roses' debut, Appetite for Destruction was a turning point for hard rock in the late '80s -- it was a dirty, dangerous, and mean record in a time when heavy metal meant nothing but a good time. On the surface, Guns N' Roses may appear to celebrate the same things as their peers -- namely, sex, liquor, drugs, and rock & roll -- but there is a nasty edge to their songs, since Axl Rose doesn't see much fun in the urban sprawl of L.A. and its parade of heavy metal thugs, cheap women, booze, and crime. The music is as nasty as the lyrics, wallowing in a bluesy, metallic hard rock borrowed from Aerosmith, AC/DC, and countless faceless hard rock bands of the early '80s. It's a primal, sleazy sound that adds grit to already grim tales. It also makes Rose's misogyny, fear, and anger hard to dismiss as merely an artistic statement; this is music that sounds lived-in. And that's exactly why Appetite for Destruction is such a powerful record -- not only does Rose have fears, but he also is vulnerable, particularly on the power ballad "Sweet Child O' Mine." He also has a talent for conveying the fears and horrors of the decaying inner city, whether it's on the charging "Welcome to the Jungle," the heroin ode "Mr. Brownstone," or "Paradise City," which simply wants out. But as good as Rose's lyrics and screeching vocals are, they wouldn't be nearly as effective without the twin-guitar interplay of Slash and Izzy Stradlin, who spit out riffs and solos better than any band since the Rolling Stones, and that's what makes Appetite for Destruction the best metal record of the late '80s.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

By 1994, grunge had introduced mainstream culture to a punk-informed sound that was cathartic and exciting, but not exactly fun. The floodgates of alternative rock opened by Nirvana exposed Middle America to bands following in the angsty, grim footsteps of the Melvins and the Wipers, bringing in an entirely new idea of what aggressive music could be, but focusing more on tormented emotions than melody. Enter Green Day, one of many energetic pop-punk bands that had been thriving in independent circles as grunge exploded above ground, with a sound built on no-frills song structures played at hyper-fast tempos, but sweetened with tight vocal harmonizing borrowed from the Jam and pop hooks with the same stunning simplicity as the Beatles. Green Day perfected this winning formula on their first two albums (released with indie cornerstone Lookout Records), and with Dookie, their third studio full-length and first for major-label Reprise Records, the only thing that really changed was the recording budget. Dookie was an almost immediate commercial breakthrough, perhaps in part because mainstream audiences had largely never heard anything like it before. The album produced charting hits with "Longview," a loungy ode to boredom and self-love, the neurotic punk rock cardio workout "Basket Case," and most successfully "When I Come Around," a slacker punk answer to the power ballad that cracked the Top Ten and remained ever-present on the radio waves throughout 1995. While these songs were highlights, the entirety of Dookie is just as strong. The way the tracks fly by nervously in barrages of buzzing guitars and half-sung, half-sneered vocals from Billie Joe Armstrong intentionally aims to obscure how precise their arrangements are. From the bright blasting of opening track "Burnout" to the happy-go-lucky harmonies of torture fantasy "Pulling Teeth," Green Day delight in smart subversion throughout Dookie and refuse to take themselves too seriously at any point, even when crafting perfect pop songs. The band's lightning-fast tunefulness and irreverent attitude were a welcome change from the dour wallowing of grunge, and even the songs here about heavier subjects are delivered with a smirking, adolescent flippancy. The masses were finally ready for just this kind of punk rock when Dookie arrived, and the album not only marked Green Day's turn from basement trio to global rock stars, but also ushered in a wider collective understanding of punk that would cascade into the next generations of young, loud, and snotty melody-makers like blink-182, then Fall Out Boy, then Paramore, and so on. It's a turning point for alternative rock that still feels as vibrant decades later, and captures Green Day in a liminal state between obscurity and an almost impossibly unlikely level of fame, unaware of what was to come and simply working with the same raw materials they always had to make their next record one they could be proud of.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

If grandiloquence could take the form of an album, it would undoubtedly arrive in the form of Bat Out Of Hell. It's a real sorcery that comes out of the hat of composer Jim Steinman and is served as an offering to us by a possessed Meat Loaf. An improbable anthology of "over the top" moments that have gone down in history. With forty three million units sold, Bat Out Of Hell is a unique experience, so much so that I'm sure many people remember where they were when they first heard it. From the pure orchestral moments on For Crying Out Loud (featuring the New York Philharmonic Orchestra), to the title track and its ten minutes of intensity that will make you shy away from any karaoke night (or not), it is a true moment in history that is offered to your ears. Paradise By The Dashboard Light, which sees Meat sharing the mic with Ellen Folley, is a lesson in execution and composition, never equalled in the vocalist's career and reason enough to listen to Bat Out Of Hell alone. Nor will we forget the apocalyptic last minutes of All Revved Up With No Place To Go, a rock manifesto that paves the way for the magnificent Heaven Can Wait or Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad: "You can't imagine how hard I had to work to sing this album in the studio, you can't imagine how much we had to give of ourselves to make this album authentic, in its humour and in all that it embodies. A lot of people realise that when they actually try it, and still they don't." Unique, funny, often misunderstood and always inspired, just like its singer, Bat Out Of Hell is reaching out to you. We already miss you Meat Loaf. Maxime Archambaud / Qobuz

Guns N' Roses' debut, Appetite for Destruction was a turning point for hard rock in the late '80s -- it was a dirty, dangerous, and mean record in a time when heavy metal meant nothing but a good time. On the surface, Guns N' Roses may appear to celebrate the same things as their peers -- namely, sex, liquor, drugs, and rock & roll -- but there is a nasty edge to their songs, since Axl Rose doesn't see much fun in the urban sprawl of L.A. and its parade of heavy metal thugs, cheap women, booze, and crime. The music is as nasty as the lyrics, wallowing in a bluesy, metallic hard rock borrowed from Aerosmith, AC/DC, and countless faceless hard rock bands of the early '80s. It's a primal, sleazy sound that adds grit to already grim tales. It also makes Rose's misogyny, fear, and anger hard to dismiss as merely an artistic statement; this is music that sounds lived-in. And that's exactly why Appetite for Destruction is such a powerful record -- not only does Rose have fears, but he also is vulnerable, particularly on the power ballad "Sweet Child O' Mine." He also has a talent for conveying the fears and horrors of the decaying inner city, whether it's on the charging "Welcome to the Jungle," the heroin ode "Mr. Brownstone," or "Paradise City," which simply wants out. But as good as Rose's lyrics and screeching vocals are, they wouldn't be nearly as effective without the twin-guitar interplay of Slash and Izzy Stradlin, who spit out riffs and solos better than any band since the Rolling Stones, and that's what makes Appetite for Destruction the best metal record of the late '80s.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Anna Calvi can trumpet that the shy and sick child has become a sexual lioness; the score of her third album is in no way radical in its form. Still, her transformation is rather powerful as she described on social media when she came out as queer.In 2011, she released a stunning first eponymous album, where she revealed herself as much more than yet another PJ Harvey… Gifted with a mysterious organ a-la Siouxsie, armed with a 50s-sounding guitar in the vein of Duane Eddy and productions worthy of improbable Morricone/Badalamenti soundtracks, the British artist released One Breath two years later, an astounding second album, slightly evolving her singular art. Calvi leaned on dreamlike curves bordering on gothic, but also dared explore dirty and powerful sounds. With complete mastery over the writing, interpretation, arrangements and singing, she reasserted how much of a well-rounded artist she was. Something she does once again with Hunter and its very symbolic title. Supported by Nick Launay for the production (Nick Cave), Adrian Utley from Portishead on the keyboards and the Bad Seeds’ Martyn Casey on the bass, she strings together ten stunning tracks and reaches sublime heights by refining them to the extreme like on her ghostly ballad Away. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

One year after ...But Seriously, England's best-selling album in the year of its release, Phil Collins followed up with a live worldwide tour. The former Genesis drummer was at the height of his fame, and this Berlin concert on July 15th, 1990, perfectly documents his impressive performances from that time. Surrounded by four virtuosos (Leland Sklar on bass, Daryl Stuermer on guitar, Chester Thompson on drums and Brad Cole on keyboards), here Phil Collins reveals a kind of ‘best of’ album with the hits Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now), One More Night, In the Air Tonight as well as a rather muscular cover of You Can't Hurry Love by The Supremes. Everything here is XL! Brass, rhythm and melodies! And the remastered edition of this live album in 24-Bit Hi-Res quality makes the experience even more powerful. © Clotilde Maréchal/Qobuz

Perhaps Tori Amos didn't intentionally whittle her audience down to merely the rabidly devoted ever since Boys for Pele, but it sure seemed that way with the deliberately abstract arrangements, double albums, and cover records. That devoted cult may be all that pay attention to Scarlet's Walk, her first album for Epic, but it marks a return to the sound and feel of Under the Pink and is her best album since then. Much was made at the time of release about its concept -- conceived as a journey through modern womanhood, when Tori herself journeyed through each state in the union -- but following the narrative is secondary to the feel of the music, which is warm, melodic, and welcoming, never feeling labored as so much of her last four albums often did. This doesn't mean it's an altogether easy listen: an intensive listen reveals layers of pain and an uneasiness murmuring underneath the surface, but it's delivered reassuringly, in croons and lush arrangements that nevertheless are filled with quirks, making it both comforting and provocative. Which, of course, is what Tori Amos delivered in her early years. If this isn't as startling as Little Earthquakes or majestic as Under the Pink, so be it. It's confident, alluring, and accomplished, luring listeners in instead of daring them to follow. And, frankly, it's a relief that she finally delivered another record like that.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo