American composers set an excellent example in many ways, but if we could only choose one—should we be so ungrateful(!)—it would be their insolent, judicious refusal to choose between the high-brow and the popular, the lighthearted and the serious, the profane and the sacred… Moreover, they seem to dismiss this sort of binary categorization. Take African-American pioneers like Scott Joplin, for example, whose ragtimes opened up a vast and previously unexplored world by building a bridge between classical and jazz. Gershwin followed suit, and later on, the great musical theatre symphonists, led by Bernstein. These are all names which Michael Tilson Thomas has held dear since his early childhood. His invigorating prelude in ‘You Come Here Often’ (practically a programme in itself) summons forth the skippy grammar of the saloon parlour, passing through all manner of ‘Gershwinian’ harmonic twists—all in one single, jerky, repetitive but never passive motion, often waning towards minimalism à la John Adams. Two generations later, Teddy Abrams (b. 1987) composed his groundbreaking Piano Concerto. Spread out into 12 movements, the titles of each highlight the improvisational character of the work at large: ‘Solo’, ‘Exploration’, ‘Cadenza’. More than a century of musical tradition swirls through this rich work, which is sometimes big band, sometimes ‘Hollywood Revue’, with some unexpectedly tasty post-romantic detours. Yuja Wang, who is used to exploring beyond the conventional, is very at home with this sort of repertoire and takes great pleasure in slapping her listeners with such invigorating material. It’s a nice slap though! The kind that tells you ‘come on, put down your glass and come dance’. Indeed make no mistake, it’s a party like no other, so prepare yourself! © Pierre Lamy/Qobuz

If you were paying close attention to the UMG-released Zappa titles, you may have noticed that Uncle Meat was one of the few pre-1982 albums that wasn't reissued using the original master tapes for the first time (all the Ryko masters were altered by Zappa). Meat Light remedies that by finally releasing the Uncle Meat original vinyl mix, remastered from the original master tapes for the very first time on CD. The results are stunning. The album literally sounds better than it ever has, with a crisp clarity to all the instruments, even on the most dense tracks. This alone would justify purchase for most Zappa fanatics...but wait! There's more! Who knew there was ANOTHER Uncle Meat?!? Yes, disc two and part of disc three present "Uncle Meat: Original Sequence." Many of the tracks are exactly the same, but with different sequencing and some completely unreleased material, all segued together with some additional contributions from the Apostolic Vlorch Injector (responsible for the blasts of noise on Uncle Meat and We're Only in It for the Money). "Whiskey Wah" and "The Whip" are previously unreleased guitar solos. "King Kong" doesn't end the set; it's the end of "Side 2" (of four), and it doesn't include the part that was recorded on a flatbed diesel at a Miami Pop Festival. "Cops & Buns" was included on The Lost Episodes, but in an edited form. Some of the other spoken bits ("Our Bizarre Relationship," "If We'd Been Living in California...") have just a little bit of extra material on them, providing a bit of further insight. "Mr. Green Genes" has a slightly different mix with some additional organ and vocals. The "Original Sequence" closes with "Cruisin' for Burgers"...but that's not the end of Meat Light! "A Bunch of Stuff" seems to be a spoken intro to the film Uncle Meat. Tracks like "Tango" and "More Beer" are just short cues. The single version of "Dog Breath" is a gas: no main vocals/lyrics -- just prominent (and awesome!) backing vocals with extra guitar and saxophone mixed in. "The String Quartet" is a medley of Uncle Meat tunes that was often performed live by the Mothers, but this sounds like a studio version. "Electric Aunt Jemima" is a different, more modern-sounding mix, while "Exercise 4" is an unused further elaboration of the "Uncle Meat Variations." The alternate mix of "Mr. Green Genes" has a different vocal mix and cool keyboards added. "Echo Pie" takes Jimmy Carl Black's displeasure in "If We'd Been Living in California" and kicks it up a notch or five. "1/4 Tone Unit" is a short, pretty chamber ensemble piece, "Sakuji's March" is a short percussion piece, and "No. 4" is a scored piece with some amazing double piano followed by double marimba. The extended version of "Prelude to Uncle Meat" adds about a minute and a half to the standard version, along with some interesting extra guitar at the end. "My Guitar (Proto 1)" is a ripping instrumental with FZ jamming on the "My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama" riff. Hearing the guitar from "Nine Types of Industrial Pollution" played at the original speed is extremely interesting. You can hear Frank playing acoustic guitar over a faint, slowed-down drum track. It's rare to hear Zappa play acoustic guitar at all, and his playing here is quite different than what he's normally known for. The live version of "Uncle Meat" sounds great. The instrumental version of "Dog Breath" is a bit more refined and not quite as raucous as the single version...until the guitar solo! Meat Light closes with an alternate mix of "The Dog Breath Variations." This is a set fans have been waiting for for years. The sound is a huge improvement over all previous Uncle Meat CDs and the additional material is all excellent. Uncle Meat is arguably Zappa's most avant-garde, most dense, most wide-ranging, and one of his most difficult albums for some. It's also one of his very best and Meat Light really does justice to this masterpiece. © Sean Westergaard /TiVo

Just three years into their recording career, the Mothers of Invention released their second double album, Uncle Meat, which began life as the largely instrumental soundtrack to an unfinished film. It's essentially a transitional work, but it's a fascinating one, showcasing Frank Zappa's ever-increasing compositional dexterity and the Mothers' emerging instrumental prowess. It was potentially easy to overlook Zappa's melodic gifts on albums past, but on Uncle Meat, he thrusts them firmly into the spotlight; what few lyrics there are, Zappa says in the liner notes, are in-jokes relevant only to the band. Thus, Uncle Meat became the point at which Zappa began to establish himself as a composer and he would return to many of these pieces repeatedly over the course of his career. Taken as a whole, Uncle Meat comes off as a hodgepodge, with centerpieces scattered between variations on previous pieces, short concert excerpts, less-realized experiments, doo wop tunes, and comedy bits; the programming often feels as random as the abrupt transitions and tape experiments held over from Zappa's last few projects. But despite the absence of a conceptual framework, the unfocused sprawl of Uncle Meat is actually a big part of its appeal. It's exciting to hear one of the most creatively fertile minds in rock pushing restlessly into new territory, even if he isn't always quite sure where he's going. However, several tracks hint at the jazz-rock fusion soon to come, especially the extended album closer "King Kong"; it's his first unequivocal success in that area, with its odd time signature helping turn it into a rhythmically kinetic blowing vehicle. Though some might miss the gleeful satire of Zappa's previous work with the Mothers, Uncle Meat's continued abundance of musical ideas places it among his most intriguing works. © Steve Huey /TiVo

X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X, with music by Anthony Davis and a libretto by his cousin Thulani Davis, premiered in 1985. It had a mixed reception, occasioned not only by the controversial nature of its subject but also by the wide mixture of styles it contained. Now, with mixtures of classical and vernacular styles commonplace, it is hard to believe that the latter issue could have caused any controversy, and indeed Davis, in an elegant note, states: "I tried to imagine a musical world where those categories and genres did not exist, in other words, where I could create a musical space that could draw on all of my musical resources." The booklet for this 2023 release, mostly written by Thulani Davis, is worth the price of the physical CDs in itself, accomplishing a good deal of primary music history. The composer and librettist made some small but significant revisions for this performance, making some cuts that tighten the action, replacing the text of one of Betty Shabazz's arias with the original words she spoke, and setting some of Malcolm's spoken text to music, along with other minor alterations, but the biggest reason to hear X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X in 2023 is the same as it was in 1985, namely Anthony Davis' facility in merging musical languages into a taut whole. The music ranges from the jazz Malcolm X heard in his youth to atonality, but there is nothing "eclectic" about it; its logic is impeccable, and it is rare even now that anything similar is accomplished. The singers, young African American artists led by bass-baritone Davóne Tines in the lead role, are very strong, with superb diction that makes the physical libretto generally unnecessary, and the energy of the Boston Modern Orchestra Project under conductor Gil Rose captures the rather breathless trajectory of the text and music. A revival well worth hearing, this album earned a Best Opera Recording Grammy nomination in 2023.© James Manheim /TiVo

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"Car$on deepens his working relationship with his core producers, and aims to set himself apart with his zoned-out sing-rap." © TiVo

American composers set an excellent example in many ways, but if we could only choose one—should we be so ungrateful(!)—it would be their insolent, judicious refusal to choose between the high-brow and the popular, the lighthearted and the serious, the profane and the sacred… Moreover, they seem to dismiss this sort of binary categorization. Take African-American pioneers like Scott Joplin, for example, whose ragtimes opened up a vast and previously unexplored world by building a bridge between classical and jazz. Gershwin followed suit, and later on, the great musical theatre symphonists, led by Bernstein. These are all names which Michael Tilson Thomas has held dear since his early childhood. His invigorating prelude in ‘You Come Here Often’ (practically a programme in itself) summons forth the skippy grammar of the saloon parlour, passing through all manner of ‘Gershwinian’ harmonic twists—all in one single, jerky, repetitive but never passive motion, often waning towards minimalism à la John Adams. Two generations later, Teddy Abrams (b. 1987) composed his groundbreaking Piano Concerto. Spread out into 12 movements, the titles of each highlight the improvisational character of the work at large: ‘Solo’, ‘Exploration’, ‘Cadenza’. More than a century of musical tradition swirls through this rich work, which is sometimes big band, sometimes ‘Hollywood Revue’, with some unexpectedly tasty post-romantic detours. Yuja Wang, who is used to exploring beyond the conventional, is very at home with this sort of repertoire and takes great pleasure in slapping her listeners with such invigorating material. It’s a nice slap though! The kind that tells you ‘come on, put down your glass and come dance’. Indeed make no mistake, it’s a party like no other, so prepare yourself! © Pierre Lamy/Qobuz