Ozzy Osbourne's 1981 solo debut Blizzard of Ozz was a masterpiece of neo-classical metal that, along with Van Halen's first album, became a cornerstone of '80s metal guitar. Upon its release, there was considerable doubt that Ozzy could become a viable solo attraction. Blizzard of Ozz demonstrated not only his ear for melody, but also an unfailing instinct for assembling top-notch backing bands. Onetime Quiet Riot guitarist Randy Rhoads was a startling discovery, arriving here as a unique, fully formed talent. Rhoads was just as responsible as Osbourne -- perhaps even more so -- for the album's musical direction, and his application of classical guitar techniques and scales rewrote the rulebook just as radically as Eddie Van Halen had. Rhoads could hold his own as a flashy soloist, but his detailed, ambitious compositions and arrangements revealed his true depth, as well as creating a sense of doomy, sinister elegance built on Ritchie Blackmore's minor-key innovations. All of this may seem to downplay the importance of Ozzy himself, which shouldn't be the case at all. The music is a thoroughly convincing match for his lyrical obsession with the dark side (which was never an embrace, as many conservative watchdogs assumed); so, despite its collaborative nature, it's unequivocally stamped with Ozzy's personality. What's more, the band is far more versatile and subtle than Sabbath, freeing Ozzy from his habit of singing in unison with the guitar (and proving that he had an excellent grasp of how to frame his limited voice). Nothing short of revelatory, Blizzard of Ozz deservedly made Ozzy a star, and it set new standards for musical virtuosity in the realm of heavy metal.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Whereas Clear was a four-track EP released only three months after Over It, this sequel is over twice the length of the original and was issued with Summer Walker's third album around the corner. Like the 2019 EP, this one is based on live instrumentation with Walker similarly at her rawest lyrically and vocally, unbothered by commercial reception. That approach plays to her strengths as a perceptive and pensive writer whose voice should never be obscured. When she is backed by more than a plaintive guitar, nothing gets in her way, and yet it's all stimulating -- the drums a little too nuanced to qualify as basic time-keeping, the basslines melodic and unobtrusive, the keyboards gently touched. Two of Walker's most quietly powerful songs are among the highlights. Setting the mood of the EP is the bleary if resolute "Hardlife," where she castigates an ineffectual ex while singing in support of all Black women not getting what they need from their men. "Agayu's Revelation," a collaboration with Solange, John Carroll Kirby, and Steve Lacy, comes off like an informal monologue but has as much to offer as any of Walker's richest songs. Not all is deeply serious -- "New Type" with Childish Gambino is a quarrelsome duet full of spite and wit.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

This debut Genesis album, which has appeared under license to various labels in addition to Decca and London in different configurations, is largely of historical interest. The group was still in its formative stages, the members barely past their 18th birthdays and still working out what they wanted to sound like. Mostly they sound like the Bee Gees trying to be the Moody Blues (picture something similar to the sound of the former group's Odessa album). "The Silent Sun" and "Where the Sour Turns to Sweet" are pleasant enough, but scarcely indicate the true potential of the group or its members. A pleasant enough piece of pop-psychedelia/art rock, but not a critically important release, except to the truly dedicated.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

Like the epochal Police & Thieves by Junior Murvin, which also originated at Lee "Scratch" Perry's Black Ark Studio and thus shares with this album Perry's trademark dark, swampy ambience, War ina Babylon is something of a mountain on the reggae landscape. But what makes it so remarkable is not just the consistently high quality of the music -- indeed, by 1976 one had come to expect nothing but the finest and heaviest grooves from Perry and his studio band, the Upsetters -- rather, it's the fact that Max Romeo had proved to be such a convincing singer of cultural (or "conscious") reggae after several years of raking it in as a purveyor of the most abject slackness. (His "Wet Dream" had been a huge hit in England several years earlier, and had been followed by such other delicacies as "Wine Her Goosie" and "Pussy Watch Man.") But there's no denying the authority of his admonishing voice here, and the title track (which describes the violent mood during Jamaica's 1972 general election) has remained a standard for decades. Other highlights include "One Step Forward" and "Smile Out a Style." Essential to any reggae collection.© Rick Anderson /TiVo

Criticized by some as being merely functional, Danny Elfman's intricate, propulsive music for Spider-Man delivers a richly detailed soundscape that proves even more intricate with repeat listenings. Elfman's brief motifs for Peter Parker and the Green Goblin propel the score, dancing around each other as the album progresses. Punctuated throughout with pulsing, rhythmic undertones, the action sequences bristle with energy, from the driving percussion and electric guitars of "Costume Montage" to the sheer orchestral fireworks of "Final Confrontation." While Elfman's music for the romantic aspects of the story gets short shrift on this CD, a decent balance is maintained, creating an album that's heavier on the action material without being overburdened. Elfman created a score that works perfectly in the film and also gets a strong presentation on disc. Avoid the dreadful "songs from and inspired by" soundtrack CD; Elfman's album of spider-music really scores.© Neil Shurley /TiVo

With the departure of their founding vocalist -- the heartwarmingly named Sauron -- the remaining members of Polish death metal veterans Decapitated have apparently decided to mark the installment of his successor, Covan, with a wholesale change of direction for their fourth studio album, Organic Hallucinosis. Launching off of their new frontman's more versatile skills in delivering various stages of deathly grunting, the band has stepped up the complexity of their songwriting to match, while establishing a non-traditional death metal aesthetic somewhere between the lopsided time signatures of Meshuggah and down-tuned power grooves of Pantera. And even though the exceedingly challenging results don't usually make for ideal moshpit conditions, intellectual onslaughts like "A Poem About an Old Prison Man," "Day 69" and "Flash-B(l)ack," do promise hours of gradual interpretation for those inclined towards thinking man's extreme metal. They also lack nothing in terms of intensity or brutality, only rarely exposing even the remotest traces of melody (see "Invisible Control") or turning down the volume for haunting, quieter passages ("Visual Delusion"). All of these new developments undoubtedly constrict the potential audience for a sound that's already likely to polarize longtime Decapitated fans, never mind try to seduce new ones; but one can't fault the band for trying, since it's not like they've managed to break out of the death metal underground with their previous works, anyway. And by limiting this album's running time to less than half an hour, it's almost as if Decapitated are intentionally giving their fans with a quick and relatively painless introduction to both their new membership and ambitions. Seems like a good strategy, if it works out in the long run. © Eduardo Rivadavia /TiVo

Who is still afraid of the big bad wolf Manson? Not many people, it seems, but you have to admit that, since his jaw-dropping début almost twenty years ago, and his avalanche of controversies, lots of things have changed. Music like his, as well as that of other extreme groups or artists, has lost its power to terrify the masses. Over the course of 25 years, the man has tried almost everything, following the example of his good friend Trent Reznor, another stage villain from the old days. He has tried to be more consensual here and more avant-garde there, but he seems to have paid a high price for his years of provocations. There are only a few stinkers in his imposing discography, but it is a fact that he tends to get less of a respectful hearing than the majority of musicians of the same genre, with Reznor out in the lead. Nonetheless, The Pale Emperor (2015) returned him to the top of the heap, and this tenth album drives in the nail even further (into the cross?). Although it's a difficult balance to strike, the major pitfall is returning to a "futuristic music from the past", without giving the impression of warming up a dish that's long past its sell-by date. It is clear that the self-proclaimed God of Fuck wants, above all, to recall, in the most shrill and vindictive way he can, the real revolution that he carried out with Portrait Of An American Family and Antichrist Superstar. About half of Heaven Upside Down, with JE$U$ CRI$I$ or We Know Where You Fucking Live, which are of the same calibre as other Manson classics, could just as well have featured on his first productions. As for the rest, he returns, almost humbly, to his first, more rock-influenced musical instincts (Tattooed In Reverse, Blood Honey, Threats Of Romance) or carries out some – too-rare – experiments (Saturnalia, SAY10). But overall, and more even than its predecessor, Heaven Upside Down is an album by a more human Manson who is in control. Over the past ten years, that has not always seemed to be the case. We could even add "more balanced", although he might well take that as an insult. His accomplice Tyler Bates certainly has a big hand in this successful update: the composer-guitarist has brought his solid experience with audiovisual work (we owe to him the soundtracks on a whole host of series, video games or films, including Killer Joe, Punisher, Guardians Of The Galaxy, John Wick, Californication, Salem…). Manson seems to be in good hands, and long may this continue. © JPS/Qobuz

Journey were one of America's most popular rock bands of the 1970s and '80s, dominated by the guitar work of Neal Schon and the vocals of Steve Perry. While Perry has left the group, Schon and his bandmates Jonathan Cain (keyboards), Ross Valory (bass), and Deen Castronovo (drums) are still making music together, and with new vocalist Arnel Pineda, they offer fans a set of old classics and new favorites on 2008's Revelation. Disc one features 12 new songs written by Schon and Cain, while disc two includes new studio recordings with Pineda of 11 of Journey's best-known songs, including "Don't Stop Believin'," "Wheel in the Sky," and "Any Way You Want It." Some editions also include a bonus DVD, featuring live performances of 14 songs from the latest edition of the band. © Mark Deming /TiVo