Since several of the songs here are the type that would get requested (such as "People," "The Girl from Ipanema," and "The Days of Wine and Roses") in the mid-'60s, this particular Oscar Peterson CD reissue would not seem to have much potential, but the pianist mostly uplifts the material and adds a few songs (such as his own "Goodbye, J.D." and John Lewis' "D & E") that probably no one asked for. Overall, this is a reasonably enjoyable Oscar Peterson session, featuring bassist Ray Brown and drummer Ed Thigpen.© Scott Yanow /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

Who We Used to Be is the seventh studio album from English singer/songwriter James Blunt, following the release of 2019's Once Upon a Mind. Alongside the upbeat, breezy songwriting that Blunt has become known for, this record also sees him exploring some darker themes centered around aging, loss, and the passage of time.© Liam Martin /TiVo

Joni Mitchell's ongoing Archives series has been an overwhelming success and the third volume somehow manages to outdo its predecessors. Where Volume 1 gave a raw, warts-and-all look at a developing talent wrestling with her creative identity and Volume 2 showed that talent operating at an astonishingly high level, Volume 3 documents Mitchell's transition from a truly gifted artist pushing the boundaries of the rock-culture zeitgeist into a mad genius staking her own sonic territories. This set, probably more than any other that has been or will be part of this series, is dynamic and revelatory, like pulling back the curtain on the Wizard of Oz and finding an actual wizard doing real wizardry. While Vol. 3 falls short of giving blow-by-blow documentation of the incredible studio-as-an-instrument work Mitchell did to transform For the Roses, Court and Spark, and—most triumphantly—The Hissing of Summer Lawns from jazz-inflected pop-folk records into towering artistic statements (most of the songs here are presented in either spare embryonic versions or funky, recalibrated live takes, with little middle ground). This volume repeatedly demonstrates Mitchell's unerring gift for songwriting that is singular and superlative, as well as her willingness to build sonic scaffolding for those songs that is as complementary as it is challenging. The results are often just as impactful in their simplest renditions (a live acoustic version of "This Flight Tonight" loses the electric filigree and multi-tracked harmony vocals but still can stop traffic), and there are real revelations in the early and alternate versions of these well-known album tracks. In fact, most of these early versions would have made excellent album tracks. "See You Sometime" especially benefits from a loose, swinging airiness that's replaced with a denser arrangement on For the Roses, a streamlined, acoustic demo of "Raised on Robbery" is missing the full-band energy of the final version, but employs some wild background vocals that give the number an entirely different vibe, and a demo of "Help Me"—just Mitchell and a guitar—is breathtaking in its elegance. Despite the strengths of these more straight-ahead versions, Mitchell was clearly going to be dissatisfied with releasing them in forms that were merely "really good," when—with more work in the studio and the multi-track editing suite—they would be transformed into work that was "truly great."  © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

The "difficult second album" is one of the perennial rock & roll clichés, but few second albums ever were as difficult as Use Your Illusion. Not really conceived as a double album but impossible to separate as individual works, Use Your Illusion is a shining example of a suddenly successful band getting it all wrong and letting its ambitions run wild. Taking nearly three years to complete, the recording of the album was clearly difficult, and tensions between Slash, Izzy Stradlin, and Axl Rose are evident from the start. The two guitarists, particularly Stradlin, are trying to keep the group closer to its hard rock roots, but Rose has pretensions of being Queen and Elton John, which is particularly odd for a notoriously homophobic Midwestern boy. Conceivably, the two aspirations could have been divided between the two records, but instead they are just thrown into the blender -- it's just a coincidence that Use Your Illusion I is a harder-rocking record than II. Stradlin has a stronger presence on I, contributing three of the best songs -- "Dust n' Bones," "You Ain't the First," and "Double Talkin' Jive" -- which help keep the album in Stonesy Aerosmith territory. On the whole, the album is stronger than II, even though there's a fair amount of filler, including a dippy psychedelic collaboration with Alice Cooper and a song that takes its title from the Osmonds' biggest hit. But it also has two ambitious set pieces, "November Rain" and "Coma," which find Rose fulfilling his ambitions, as well as the ferocious, metallic "Perfect Crime" and the original version of the power ballad "Don't Cry." Still, it can be a chore to find the highlights on the record amid the overblown production and endless amounts of filler.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

A bassist vital to the US jazz scene since the 90’s – partner of choice for musicians as notable as Joe Henderson, Joshua Redman, Roy Hargrove, and Pat Metheny – Christian McBride, alongside his frequent work as a sideman (on over 300 records to date), leads a rich career as a frontman, expanding upon his orchestral formations (from trios to big band) in varying registers. He encompasses a large palette of styles that are always deeply anchored in the foundations of traditional African-American jazz. This new record conceived and recorded in partnership with another bass virtuoso, Edgar Meyer, himself exploring other idioms and imagining other landscapes (from bluegrass to “crossover” classical), indisputably introduces a new perspective to the bassist’s rich discography.Intended to feel like a conversation between friends, each speaking in a relaxed, playful tone, offering support through active listening in order for each to be able to “play their own melody” with full peace and security of mind, But Who’s Gonna Play the Melody? sounds like a charming and timeless departure into a world entirely dedicated to the bass. Applying their great virtuosity towards each melody, without ever veering into competitive territory, the two musicians, with an irresistibly natural sense of groove, never cease to seduce the listener through a repertoire that draws not only from jazz, but also from folk, classical music, bluegrass, and funk, making room for the kind of collective memory that goes beyond styles and generations. An album with no pretense other than the pure pleasure of playing music – authentically all-encompassing in the best possible way. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

The maelstrom of hype surrounding self-modeled Hollywood pop star Lana Del Rey's 2012 breakthrough album, Born to Die, found critics, listeners, and pop culture aficionados divided about her detached, hyper-stylized approach to every aspect of her music and public persona. What managed to get overlooked by many was that Born to Die made such a polarizing impression because it actually offered something that didn't sound like anything else. Del Rey's sultry, overstated orchestral pop recast her as some sort of vaguely imagined chanteuse for a generation raised on Adderall and the Internet, with heavy doses of Twin Peaks atmosphere adding a creepy sheen to intentionally vapid (and undeniably catchy) radio hits. Follow-up album Ultraviolence shifts gears considerably, building a thick, slow-moving atmosphere with its languid songs and opulent arrangements. Gone are the big beats and glossy production that resulted in tracks like "Summertime Sadness." Instead, Ultraviolence begins with the protracted, rolling melancholia of "Cruel World," nearly seven minutes of what feels like a sad, reverb-drenched daydream. The song sets the stage for the rest of the album, which simmers with a haunted, yearning feeling but never boils over. Even the most pop-friendly moments here are steeped in patient, jazz-inflected moodiness, as with the sad-eyed longing of "Shades of Cool" or the unexpected tempo changes that connect the slinky verses of single "West Coast" to their syrupy, swaying choruses. Production from the Black Keys' Dan Auerbach might have something to do with the metered restraint that permeates the album, with songs like "Sad Girl" carrying some of the slow-burning touches of greasy blues-rock Auerbach is known for. A few puzzling moments break up the continuity of the album. The somewhat hooky elements of "Brooklyn Baby" can't quite rise above its disjointed song structure and cringeable lyrics that could be taken either as mockery of the hipster lifestyle or self-parody. "Money Power Glory" steps briefly out of the overall dreamscape of the album, sounding like a tossed-off outtake from the Born to Die sessions. Despite these mild missteps, Ultraviolence thrives for the most part in its density, meant clearly to be absorbed as an entire experience, with even its weaker pieces contributing to a mood that's consumptive, sexy, and as eerie as big-budget pop music gets. Del Rey's loudest detractors criticized her music as a hollow, cliché-ridden product designed by the music industry and lacking the type of substance that makes real pop stars pop. Ultraviolence asserts that as a songwriter, she has complete control of her craft, deciding on songs far less flashy or immediate but still uniquely captivating. As these songs shift her sound into more mature and nuanced places, it becomes clear that every deadpan affectation, lispy lyric, and overblown allusion to desperate living has been a knowing move in the creation of the strange, beguiling character -- and sonic experience -- we know as Lana Del Rey.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

Use Your Illusion II is more serious and ambitious than I, but it's also considerably more pretentious. Featuring no less than four songs that run over six minutes, II is heavy on epics, whether it's the charging funk metal of "Locomotive," the antiwar "Civil War," or the multipart "Estranged." As if an attempt to balance the grandiose epics, the record is loaded with an extraordinary amount of filler. "14 Years" may have a lean, Stonesy rhythm, and Duff McKagan's Johnny Thunders homage, "So Fine," may be entertaining, but there's no forgiving the ridiculous "Get in the Ring," where Axl Rose threatens rock journalists by name because they gave him bad reviews; the misinterpretation of Dylan's "Knockin' on Heaven's Door"; another version of "Don't Cry"; and the bizarre closer, "My World," which probably captures Rose's instability as effectively as the tortured poetry of his epics. That said, there are numerous strengths to Use Your Illusion II; a couple of songs have a nervy energy, and for all their pretensions, the overblown epics are effective, though strangely enough, they reveal notorious homophobe Rose's aspirations of being a cross between Elton John and Freddie Mercury. But the pompous production and poor pacing make the album tiring for anyone who isn't a dedicated listener.© 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

With this February 1996 album, Nick Cave took up his role as the bipolar preacher, caught between sin and redemption. Half goth-punk Johnny Cash, half infernal Lee Hazlewood, the brains of the Bad Seeds, a crooner to the core, told his stories of death, betrayal, sex, violence and passion... His cavernous voice and his Biblical pen fascinated fans. Behind him, the Bad Seeds were knitting together a blood-red score, a cocktail of blues and jazz on ghostly pianos, disquieting guitars and martial percussions. This is a Nick Cave in full Nosferatu mode, and he even has a couple of virgins to snack on: his double, PJ Harvey, on Henry Lee, and his compatriot Kylie Minogue for an erotic thriller entitled Where The Wild Roses Grow. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

The twin polarities upon which Use Your Illusion has always derived its unique energy from are its absolute bigness and its unparallelled sense of vindictive martyrdom. This deluxe set—which doubles the length of the combined two original albums by including two full live sets—is definitely big, but without the inclusion of additional studio tracks (no demos, b-sides or outtakes) doesn't expand on the original in any meaningful way.  Which means that Illusion is still trapped in its own unique 1991 amber. From its odd sequencing—which alternates between melodramatic grandiosity, midtempo sleaze, and energetic rockers built solely on bitterness and spite—to the stultifying airlessness of the recording (all of the band members cut their parts separately), Illusion still feels like an overdetermined mess that somehow manages to consistently deliver the goods. Sadly though, those goods are steeped in an aimless rage that these days reads less like anti-authoritarianism and more like toxic narcissism. This is an album that gets out a "fuck you" in its first two minutes, and devolves from there into a master class on petty beefing: Whether it's "Right Next Door To Hell," "Get In the Ring," "My World" (ugh), "Back Off Bitch" (ugggghh), or any of the other tracks where poor Axl Rose blames all of his problems on everyone else in the world, the constant airing of tiny grievances is far more deadening than the set's length. All of this made Use Your Illusion a deeply cynical yet completely sincere work. Although it's incredibly indulgent and self-centered, it's almost certainly an accurate representation of the band's perception of the world at the time. Its deep currents of misogyny were both casual and aggressive, but also completely unapologetic, which is both alarming and pathetic. Sounds like a terrible album, right? It most definitely is not. Weirdly conceived and recorded? For sure. Problematic? Yup. Highly individual and completely non-reproducible by any other band on Earth? Absolutely. Even now, some 30 years later, it still manages to yield treasures. Tracks that were overlooked in the overwhelming onslaught of the original release are well worth revisiting; the druggy blues-rock of "Bad Obsession, "Locomotive" with its sideways reworking of "Welcome to the Jungle," "The Garden" (which sounds like a leftover from the first Masters of Reality album with an Alice Cooper rap shoved in the bridge), or the Duff McKagan-penned Johnny Thunders tribute "So Fine" all hold up remarkably well. The live shows are revelatory: The Use Your Illusion tour was as extravagant and overblown as the album(s) it was promoting, running for nine legs over 30 months with nearly 200 dates played.  It was truly one of the last of its kind from an on-the-charts rock 'n' roll band, represented here by a warmup theater gig at the Ritz in New York in May, 1991, and an arena show on the UNLV campus as the tour was running at full speed eight months later. Remarkably, both sets exhibit a warm and generous band giving their absolute all to the fans in attendance, turning the somewhat clinical performances of Illusion's album versions into explosive renditions on stage. © Jason Ferguson/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

Just seven months after Chemtrails Over the Country Club, while the planet is gradually coming out of its pandemic lethargy, Lana Del Rey has released Blue Banisters, an eighth album that's full of fresh gems... It's fascinating how the LA-based New Yorker can cut right through the dense trappings of her image (the pout, the persona, the videos, etc.) and put the spotlight firmly on her songs. Once again, amid quiet intimacy, boudoir melodies and confessional arrangements, the American shines as a songwriter of substance. The pop music on Chemtrails Over the Country Club, was folkier than ever, despite the echo and reverb that helped her exquisite voice really soar. But here she takes a more eclectic approach and makes a few nods to her previous songs. Some of the songs here were originally written for previous albums, which is another reason for the sometimes-baffling eclecticism of Blue Banisters or maybe it's just a true reflection of her personality?The "confessions of a bad girl" song is still her strong suit (Black Bathing Suit), but Del Rey can still pull out the drama, for example in her duet with Miles Kane (Dealer); and she can even manage some family-friendly material, as with Sweet Carolina, which was co-written with her father and sister. She slaloms between textures and sounds, outpourings and outbursts. Hypnotised, we can only follow... We leave Blue Banisters with less the impression of having travelled in unknown land, as with the deep conviction that we now hold in our hands a new, crucial piece of the Lana Del Rey puzzle. This record offers yet more proof that melancholy and the blues are still the most efficient fuel for songwriting... © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Few artists in the 2020s are as deserving of carte blanche as Kali Uchis. Before delivering Red Moon in Venus, the singer and songwriter had earned a Latin Grammy nomination, a Grammy win for Best Dance Recording, and other nominations in the R&B and Música Urbana fields, plus platinum certifications as headliner or co-star of five rather different singles. Isolation and Sin Miedo (Del Amor y Otros Demonios) ∞ behind her, Uchis seemed primed for the difficult third album with every right to unload a carnivalesque triple LP presented as a fuzzy concept with enough stylistic whimsicality to offer something for everyone. Red Moon in Venus instead is highly concentrated in every respect. Flush with supple slow jams and celestial ballads, it's mostly about love, from possessiveness and blissful escape to vexation and bittersweet farewell. While it doesn't have the swagger or humor of Isolation, it's engaging from start to finish, consistently palatable. Uchis somehow displays as much charisma and vocal elasticity as ever, and her verses are often as instantly memorable as her hooks. Assorted production allies -- longtime associate Josh Crocker, the equally compatible Sir Dylan, and resurgent master Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins among them -- help Uchis make each sound her own. "Hasta Cuando," frosted electro with a bumping beat that recalls Whodini, deals out teeth-kissing bilingual retribution: "Dices que yo la vida te la jodí/It's sad that you're still obsessed, keep lyin' on me." "Blue," lithe sophisti-pop replete with saxophone, makes dejection sound as glamorous as anything by Everything But the Girl or Sade. Philly soul older than half a century is evoked in "Love Between...," a dazed ballad rendered with enchanting finesse. Part of what makes the album remarkable is that these ideas sound fresh beside songs like "I Wish You Roses," "Endlessly," and the Don Toliver duet "Fantasy," additional highlights that emit kaleidoscopic swirls of pop-R&B, warm rays of post-disco boogie, and romantic dancefloor heat. The low-spirited moments are typically as alluring as the bliss-outs, and though there's a breakup in the mix, Red Moon finishes as Uchis pushes the reset button on a relationship with a strong sense of optimism.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

There aren't a lot of things Dave Alvin hasn't done in a musical career that's spanned six decades, but he was able to scratch one item off his list in 2020 with the first album from his group the Third Mind. For the first time, Alvin, one of America's great songwriters, threw caution to the wind and assembled an improvisational ensemble who strolled into a studio and performed a set of songs with no prior rehearsal. If there was any cheating, it came from most of the tracks being covers, giving the musicians some guidelines of where to start and finish while still leaving lots of room for musical wanderlust. The result was a set of jams that sounds smart, adventurous, and dynamic without losing the plot or sinking into aimless noodling. Alvin and his accomplices were clearly happy enough with the results that they chose to repeat the experiment on 2023's The Third Mind 2. As on the first album, Alvin is joined by Jesse Sykes on vocals and acoustic guitar, David Immerglück on guitar and keys, Victor Krummenacher on bass, and Michael Jerome on drums, and the interplay between the musicians feels more intimate and intuitive the second time around. These gifted players have a clearer idea of what to expect from their bandmates without robbing the performances of their sense of mystery, and even more than on the debut album, this shows Alvin reaching new heights as a guitarist. The wail and growl he draws from his guitar has always been impressive, but here he gives himself greater license to move outside his comfort zone, and the results are rewarding, especially with Immerglück as a strong musical foil who gives Alvin worthy support while subtly bringing plenty of color and texture at the same time. Krummenacher and Jerome keep the music grounded even as they add their own details to the picture, and Sykes' phrasing is every bit as personal and deeply felt as anything on these six songs. While the five covers all date back to the '60s, drawn from the songbooks of the likes of the Electric Flag, Fred Neil, and Gene Clark, the interpretations suggest a kind of spiritual psychedelia that trades Day-Glo cliches for a new kind of electric music for the mind and body. On their first album, the Third Mind sounded like that modern rarity, a jam band with no audible hippie affectations; The Third Mind 2 shows they're digging even deeper into a rich, flavorful groove of their own. Not many people can get away with not rehearsing, but this album proves there are musicians good enough to get away without it, and even make it exciting.© Mark Deming /TiVo