Orpheus Descending follows quickly on the heels of Strictly a One-Eyed Jack, the 2022 album that found John Mellencamp returning after a five-year silence. There, he invited Bruce Springsteen into the studio for a few songs, a nod to their shared past as heartland rockers. Here, the guest isn't as big a star, but the connection may run deeper. Much of Orpheus Descending features a returning Lisa Germano, the violinist who played with the rocker from 1987's The Lonesome Jubilee through 1998's John Mellencamp, tending to an adventurous solo career all the while. Germano's presence accentuates how Mellencamp is returning to the earthy, rangy roots rock of Big Daddy, a sound that seemed slightly out of time in the 1980s and now feels somewhat traditional; Mellencamp's blend of sinewy rhythms and burnished acoustics is recognizably his, yet it draws upon a sound that's now part of a shared past. It's a sound that's aged well, and Mellencamp has aged within it. His voice has been weathered to a nub; he now sounds eternal, even primal. His leathery croak helps give this lean, direct music a gravelly anchor that Germano offsets with her lithe, graceful support. Listening to their interplay gives Orpheus Descending an unexpected emotional kick that helps the record transcend the occasional overly literal lyric from Mellencamp, such as the lead single "The Eyes of Portland."© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Maxi Jazz, the maestro behind Faithless, is well titled as "the grand oral disseminator." The tales he spins make this album a manifesto, religious experience, sexual escapade, and 24-hour rave all rolled up into one tightly constructed package. As Jazz explored hip-hop through the 1980s and his path converged with dub superstar Jah Wobble, the ultra funky Jamiroquai, and the Soul II Soul amalgamation (among others), the foundation was laid for the delicious blend of genres and sounds that would break through in the mid-'90s. Reverence is the culmination of all those experiences, as Jazz unleashes a fat packet worth of songs that are really an acid house tapestry in disguise. This album is best heard in one sitting, where all its styles work together to tell the story. But break it apart, peel the layers back, and the songs stand alone as well. The hypnotic title track serves nicely as an introduction, before it's waylaid by the downtempo soul ballad "Don't Leave," which is replete with needle, pops, and skips throughout. "Salva Mea," "Insomnia," and "Dirty Ol' Man," three very different songs, tangle themselves together and pick up the thread from "Reverence." "Angeline," meanwhile, emerges as a perfectly impassioned love song. The U.S. release includes the bonus "Monster Mix Radio Edit" of "Insomnia." Maxi Jazz hits a deep chord with this album. It's clubby enough for the kiddies, but is incredibly complex beyond the dancefloor. The songs are great, the beats are compelling, and it's almost impossible to not bounce around the room while listening. But this album is also a collection of shadows, of mirror images, where songs mimic one another before spinning off to do their own thing. Moments are caught and lost, tangled, and straightened out. Really, it's brilliant.© Amy Hanson /TiVo

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Mudrock's dry production focuses almost all of Waking the Fallen on Avenged Sevenfold's greatest strength. That, of course, would be performance, and the band delivers with unflagging aggression and precision. Never mind the lyrical ennui or throat-scrape yowling; there's more to this music than generic cliché. When he wants to, M. Shadows can passionately project in a way that turns even the grim "Desecrate Through Reverance" into an almost bouncy little melody. (Incidentally, Reverance? Remenissions? Reverand? Maybe doomsday is around the corner, but isn't there still time to run song titles and soubriquets through a spell check?) And whether attacking a riff in unison or in harmonized parts, the double-threat guitars of Synyster Gates and Zacky Vengeance do their duty like search-and-destroy commandos -- in and out fast, leaving devastation in their wake. Especially noteworthy -- and note-heavy -- is the guitar solo that blazes through the last moments of "Second Heartbeat" and the head-spinning single-stroke virtuosity of the Reverand throughout the album. © Robert L. Doerschuk /TiVo

With the remainder of Emperor's lineup in jail, bandleader and chief composer Ihsahn returned to his rural home near the town of Notodden and began writing the band's second album. Once his longtime collaborator Samoth was freed and able to help complete the material, Emperor regrouped with a new rhythm section consisting of bassist Alver and warp-speed drummer Trym (ex-Enslaved). The result was Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk, a magnificently conceived and executed opus that fulfills all of Emperor's promise and ambition. The biggest difference from its predecessor is the crisper, clearer production, which allows details in the arrangements to emerge far more readily. While black metal purists might miss the rawness of the debut -- and/or decry this move toward (relative) accessibility -- Anthems is still widely viewed as an uncompromising work of art that immediately announces itself a masterpiece. "Emperor performs Sophisticated Black Metal Art exclusively!" boasts the back cover, and in truth that's a pretty accurate assessment. Everything about Anthems feels more fully realized than its already classic predecessor. There's greater use of classical flourishes, heightening the majestic feel of the band's already epic compositions; the keyboard work is more complex and melodic; there's more audible guitar interplay between Ihsahn and Samoth; and there's greater variety in Ihsahn's vocals, including more clean chanting à la the last album's "Inno a Satana." The album is both a refinement and expansion of the band's core sound, maintaining the vicious wall-of-noise attack of In the Nightside Eclipse while fleshing out the more progressive and esoteric influences that album merely hinted at. It definitely builds on the groundwork laid by extreme metal pioneers Celtic Frost and Bathory: the former with its restless experimentalism, and the latter with its determination to create something quintessentially Scandinavian. Indeed, Emperor has never sounded more Norwegian than on the multi-faceted epic "With Strength I Burn," which covers just about everything in their bag of tricks and marks one of the high points of their career. Highlights abound; elsewhere, the band pays tribute to scene godfather Euronymous by building album-opener "Ye Entrancemperium" on a riff borrowed from an obscure, bootleg-only Mayhem song, and offers their first music video for "The Loss and Curse of Reverence." Taken as a whole, Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk cemented Emperor's reputation as black metal's greatest band, and Ihsahn as its foremost musical visionary; it also firmly established black metal as an art form that wasn't going away any time soon, and opened up a wide range of creative possibilities to the more progressive, eccentric wing of the genre. In the Nightside Eclipse might epitomize black metal better than any other album, but divorced from outside context, Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk is black metal's greatest stand-alone creative achievement. © Steve Huey /TiVo

Maxi Jazz, the maestro behind Faithless, is well titled as "the grand oral disseminator." The tales he spins make this album a manifesto, religious experience, sexual escapade, and 24-hour rave all rolled up into one tightly constructed package. As Jazz explored hip-hop through the 1980s and his path converged with dub superstar Jah Wobble, the ultra funky Jamiroquai, and the Soul II Soul amalgamation (among others), the foundation was laid for the delicious blend of genres and sounds that would break through in the mid-'90s. Reverence is the culmination of all those experiences, as Jazz unleashes a fat packet worth of songs that are really an acid house tapestry in disguise. This album is best heard in one sitting, where all its styles work together to tell the story. But break it apart, peel the layers back, and the songs stand alone as well. The hypnotic title track serves nicely as an introduction, before it's waylaid by the downtempo soul ballad "Don't Leave," which is replete with needle, pops, and skips throughout. "Salva Mea," "Insomnia," and "Dirty Ol' Man," three very different songs, tangle themselves together and pick up the thread from "Reverence." "Angeline," meanwhile, emerges as a perfectly impassioned love song. The U.S. release includes the bonus "Monster Mix Radio Edit" of "Insomnia." Maxi Jazz hits a deep chord with this album. It's clubby enough for the kiddies, but is incredibly complex beyond the dancefloor. The songs are great, the beats are compelling, and it's almost impossible to not bounce around the room while listening. But this album is also a collection of shadows, of mirror images, where songs mimic one another before spinning off to do their own thing. Moments are caught and lost, tangled, and straightened out. Really, it's brilliant.© Amy Hanson /TiVo

Again working with Alan Moulder but now also using a live drummer on most tracks -- namely Monti from Curve, one of the Mary Chain's many descendants -- the Reids came back strong with Honey's Dead, on balance a more consistent and satisfying record than Automatic. There's a sense of greater creativity with the arrangements, while the balance between blasting static rampage and precise, almost clinical delivery is the finest yet, making the album as a whole the best straight-through listen since Psychocandy. Monti's drumming finally replaces Bobby Gillespie's properly; he's a much more talented musician than the Primal Scream overlord, using the warped funk hits familiar from Curve's work to the Mary Chain's advantage. Even the drum machine-driven cuts work better than before, especially the brilliant, coruscating opener, "Reverence." Burning with some of the best nails-on-chalkboard feedback the band had yet recorded, combined with a whipsmart sharp breakbeat, all it took was the finishing touch of Jim Reid's sneering lines like "I wanna die like Jesus Christ" to make it another stone-cold classic single from the band. Other winners include "Sugar Ray," with beats and melody so immediate and addictive the track was actually used for a beer commercial, of all things, and the steady slap and crunch of "Good for My Soul." If there's a danger in Honey's Dead, it's that the near bottomless pit of reworked melodies and lyrics had almost reached its end -- even the final track, "Frequency," combines both "Reverence" itself with the Modern Lovers' "Roadrunner" -- which made the stylistic shift on Stoned & Dethroned a logical follow-up. William and Jim Reid split all the vocals almost evenly, the former especially shining on the nearly gentle "Almost Gold," the closest the record comes to a sweet ballad.© Ned Raggett /TiVo