This two-fer from Peter Gabriel includes the 2010 covers album Scratch My Back, which featured the pop icon taking on material from the likes of David Bowie ("Heroes"), Arcade Fire ("My Body Is a Cage"), and Randy Newman ("I Think It's Going to Rain Today"), and its 2013 companion piece I'll Scratch Yours, which saw some of those artists offering up their interpretations of Gabriel cuts like "Biko" (Paul Simon), "I Don’t Remember" (David Byrne), and "Games Without Frontiers" (Arcade Fire).© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

When "Polk Salad Annie" blared from transistor radio speakers in the summer of 1969, the first thought was of Creedence Clearwater Revival, for Tony Joe White's swamp rock bore more than a passing resemblance to the sound John Fogerty whipped up on Bayou Country and Green River. But White was the real thing -- he really was from the bayou country of Louisiana, while Fogerty's bayou country was conjured up in Berkeley, CA. Plus, White had a mellow baritone voice that sounded like it had been dredged up from the bottom of the Delta. Besides "Annie," side one of this album includes several other White originals. The best of these are "Willie and Laura Mae Jones," a song about race relations with an arrangement similar to "Ballad of Billie Joe," and "Soul Francisco," a short piece of funky fluff that had been a big hit in Europe in 1968. "Aspen, Colorado" presages the later "Rainy Night in Georgia," a White composition popularized by Brook Benton. The second side consists of covers of contemporary hits, with the funky "Who's Making Love" and "Scratch My Back" faring better than the slow stuff. Dusty Springfield had a minor hit with "Willie and Laura Mae Jones," and White's songs were recorded by other performers through the years, but "Polk Salad Annie" and the gators that got her granny provided his only march in the American hit parade.© Jim Newsom /TiVo

Contrary to what some have said, the Flamin' Groovies were a lot more than just a pleasant second-division group in the history of rock'n'roll. No: the outfit, born under the Californian sun in 1965 is essential, and a lot more than a footnote. The Groovies lived twice, with two different line-ups, and two quite distinct hobby horses: the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. In 1971, when they recorded and released Teenage Head, the two hemispheres of their brain were called Cyril Jordan and Roy Loney. Here, the duo signed off on a third album that was more stonesesque than ever before. Stonesesque in the sense of Sticky Fingers, which Mick Jagger and Keith Richards released in precisely the same month as Teenage Head! The Groovies released a power and an energy that were boosted by an impeccable production job from Richard Robinson. It was a violent sound (you'd swear it was the Cramps on Evil Hearted Ada!) and it winked at blues as much as it did the rock pioneers. But while the spirit of the Stones was in the air (and not just the air), the Californians were putting out grandiose songs that were all their own… Thinking of Teenage Head, it's impossible not to be reminded of the very well-founded comment by Miriam Linna, the founder of Norton Records, who said that the Roy Loney period of the Groovies was like what the Stones could have been if they'd gone with the sound and style of Sun Records instead of Chess Records… After Teenage Head, Loney would jump ship, leaving Jordan on his own. With a new (Chris Wilson), the Flamin’ Groovies would turn towards other adventures like Shake Some Action, a fourth work released in 1976, amidst the punk explosion… © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

With his career in free fall, Elvis Presley returns to Hawaii, the site of one of his biggest successes: 1961's Blue Hawaii. Released five long years later, Paradise, Hawaiian Style is a faint shadow of that previous success, containing little of its charm and certainly none of its craftsmanship. The familiar team of Bill Giant, Bernie Baum, and Florence Kaye cranks out six of the album's ten songs, taking credit for such aggressive inanities as "Queenie Wahine's Papaya" and "Stop Where You Are," tunes that still manage not to be among the worst cuts here. That honor belongs to the singalong "Datin'," which explains romance in a fashion only a five-year-old could understand, and "A Dog's Life," a canine rock & roller that's a far cry from "Hound Dog." When paired with campy island exotica -- the title track, "Drums of the Islands," "House of Sand" -- it adds up to a nadir for Elvis: this isn't as clamorous as Frankie & Johnny, but it's certainly every bit as calamitous.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The list of special guests who appear on Taj Mahal's Maestro is hardly what one would expect from a veteran bluesman. Among the special guests are Ziggy Marley, Los Lobos, Ben Harper, and African pop vocalist Angélique Kidjo -- not exactly a conventional blues lineup. But then, Mahal is hardly a conventional blues artist. He has been providing eclectic, far-reaching albums for a long time, and that spirit of adventure is alive and well on this 2008 release (which marks his 40th year as a recording artist -- Mahal provided his first album in 1968). No one expects Mahal's albums to be the work of a blues purist; in fact, Mahal (who plays guitar, harmonica, banjo, and ukulele on Maestro) is the opposite of a blues purist. While Maestro has its share of electric blues, the veteran singer also gets into everything from soul ("Further on Down the Road") and early R&B (Fats Domino's "Hello Josephine") to reggae ("Black Man, Brown Man," "Never Let You Go") and African pop ("Zanzibar"). The latter features Kidjo on lead vocals and Toumani Diabaté on the kora (a traditional African instrument), while Los Lobos appear on "Never Let You Go" and the humorous "TV Mama" (which is among the disc's straight-ahead blues offerings). Mahal, true to form, is all over the place stylistically on this 57-minute CD -- and yet, Maestro never sounds the least bit unfocused. Being eclectic comes naturally to Mahal, who sees to it that Maestro is a consistently engaging celebration of his 40th year as a recording artist.© Alex Henderson /TiVo

Considering the slow trickle of completed albums he has released since becoming a superstar in 1986 -- just two albums of songs with vocals, paired with two albums of soundtracks and two live records -- deliberate is expected from Peter Gabriel, so the slow, hushed crawl of Scratch My Back is no shock. What may be a shock is that Gabriel chose to follow 2002’s Up with a covers album but, like all of his work, this 2010 record is highly conceptual no matter how minimal the end result may be. Designed as the first half of a two-part project where Gabriel would cover 12 different artists who would then return the favor by recording their own versions of Gabriel’s compositions -- the counterpart album naturally bearing the title I’ll Scratch Yours -- Scratch My Back divides neatly between six songs from his peers (Bowie, Paul Simon, Randy Newman, Neil Young, Lou Reed, David Byrne) and six songs from younger artists (Radiohead, Arcade Fire, Stephin Merritt, Bon Iver, Elbow, Regina Spektor). Gabriel doesn’t dodge familiar tunes, choosing to sing “Heroes” and “Street Spirit (Fade Out),” but he twists each tune to his own needs, arranging everything with nothing more than piano and strings, a change that’s almost jarring on Simon’s “The Boy in the Bubble,” yet it stays true to the undercurrent of melancholy in the melody. Indeed, all of Scratch My Back is stark, sober, and spare, delving ever deeper inward, a triumph of intellect over emotion -- a noted contrast to almost all cover albums that celebrate the visceral, not the cerebral. Immediate it may not be but fascinating it is, and after hearing Gabriel turn all 12 of these songs into something unmistakably his own, the appetite is surely whetted for its companion piece.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Considering the slow trickle of completed albums he has released since becoming a superstar in 1986 -- just two albums of songs with vocals, paired with two albums of soundtracks and two live records -- deliberate is expected from Peter Gabriel, so the slow, hushed crawl of Scratch My Back is no shock. What may be a shock is that Gabriel chose to follow 2002’s Up with a covers album but, like all of his work, this 2010 record is highly conceptual no matter how minimal the end result may be. Designed as the first half of a two-part project where Gabriel would cover 12 different artists who would then return the favor by recording their own versions of Gabriel’s compositions -- the counterpart album naturally bearing the title I’ll Scratch Yours -- Scratch My Back divides neatly between six songs from his peers (Bowie, Paul Simon, Randy Newman, Neil Young, Lou Reed, David Byrne) and six songs from younger artists (Radiohead, Arcade Fire, Stephin Merritt, Bon Iver, Elbow, Regina Spektor). Gabriel doesn’t dodge familiar tunes, choosing to sing “Heroes” and “Street Spirit (Fade Out),” but he twists each tune to his own needs, arranging everything with nothing more than piano and strings, a change that’s almost jarring on Simon’s “The Boy in the Bubble,” yet it stays true to the undercurrent of melancholy in the melody. Indeed, all of Scratch My Back is stark, sober, and spare, delving ever deeper inward, a triumph of intellect over emotion -- a noted contrast to almost all cover albums that celebrate the visceral, not the cerebral. Immediate it may not be but fascinating it is, and after hearing Gabriel turn all 12 of these songs into something unmistakably his own, the appetite is surely whetted for its companion piece.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Slim Harpo brought a good bit of the Louisiana swamp vibe with him when he recorded these immortal singles for Jay Miller's Nashville-based Excello Records in the early '60s, and the rustic, laconic way these recordings unfold, aided and abetted by Miller's trademark echo-laden production, makes them singular even inside the Excello stable. This two-disc set has everything essential that Harpo released, including his biggest songs "I'm a King Bee" (and its many variations like "Buzzin'"), the gorgeous "Rainin' in My Heart," "Baby Scratch My Back," the two-part "Tip on In," and "Te-Ni-Nee-Ni-Nu," as well as various B-sides and other ephemera that all add up to a complete look at this unique musician. By rolling country and swamp blues together up into a completely new place, then sprinkling in just a touch of Jimmy Reed, Harpo created a body of work that has been as impossible to re-create as it has been influential. All the proof is here.© Steve Leggett /TiVo

This overstuffed box not only includes all three of Tony Joe White's initial albums for Monument, but adds dozens of extra songs and outtakes, most of which have never been heard before, and includes a fourth disc of previously unreleased live and studio tracks. It's a cornucopia of material, nearly all of it worth hearing, but due to its near obsessive vault clearing, the hefty list price, and its limited-edition status (only 5000 were pressed), it is clearly geared to the obsessive White enthusiast. Even though the singer/songwriter/guitarist was signed to Monument in 1966 (both sides of his rare debut single appear as extras on this set's version of Black and White), his first album was not recorded until 1969. By that time White had pretty much nailed the distinctive and ultimately trademark swamp sound that he mined for the rest of his career. The musky yet melodic songs, evocative lyrics and mid-tempo rhythms married to White's baritone voice reveled in his scrappy Louisiana roots. His first disc kicks off with "Willie and Laura Mae Jones," a steaming slice of the backwoods pop that, like most of his finest work, effortlessly combined blues, country and folk. While others had worked similar territory previously, in particular Bobbie Gentry (her "Ode to Billy Joe" was a major inspiration for White), he infused a rock and R&B sensibility that drove the music with gritty authenticity and his "whomper stomper" wah-wah pedal. Most impressive is the amount of material recorded during the period 1969-1971, the three years covered here. Of these 64 studio tracks and outtakes, all but approximately 20 are originals and most are well worth hearing. Billy Swan remained White's producer throughout these albums, and even though some critics find his strings and horns to be unnecessary embellishments, the sweetening seldom overwhelms the music. White rather reluctantly agrees in his interview available in the informative 36-page book that brings additional value to this compilation. The fourth disc features his entire seven-song performance at 1970s Isle of Wight concert. White is joined by Jeff Beck's drummer Cozy Powell, who he had first met earlier that day, and the duo burn through a sizzling set highlighted by a six-minute version of his biggest hit, "Polk Salad Annie." The compilers also unearth a previously unreleased, solo, ten track studio session recorded in Paris in March of 1969 where White covers Gentry's "Mississippi Delta" along with Bob Dylan, Don Covay and Joe Tex, along with a few originals. Not quite essential, it's still more than worthwhile and fans will enjoy experiencing White in his most stripped down format. It's a fitting coda for a long overdue and neatly packaged appreciation of Tony Joe White's significant influence on American roots music.© Hal Horowitz /TiVo

Otis Redding's talent began to surge, across songs and their stylesand absorbing them, with the recording of The Soul Album. In contrast to The Great Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads, which was an advance over its predecessor but still a body of 12 songs of varying styles and textures, rising to peaks and never falling before an intense, soulful mid-range, The Soul Album shows him moving from strength to strength in a string of high-energy, sweaty soul performances, interspersing his own songs with work by Sam Cooke ("Chain Gang"), Roy Head ("Treat Her Right"), Eddie Floyd ("Everybody Makes a Mistake"), and Smokey Robinson ("It's Growing") and recasting them in his own style, so that they're not "covers" so much as reinterpretations; indeed, "Chain Gang" is almost a rewrite of the original, though one suspects not one that Cooke would have disapproved of. He still had a little way to go as a songwriter -- the jewel of this undervalued collection is "Cigarettes and Coffee, co-authored by Eddie Thomas and Jerry Butler -- but as an interpreter he was now without peer, and his albums were now showing this remarkable, stunningly high level of consistency. Also significant on this album was the contribution of Steve Cropper, not only on guitar but as co-author of three songs.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

The mythology surrounding eccentric dub producer Lee "Scratch" Perry grew in no small part out of his relatively short-lived and tragically fated Black Ark Studio. Active between 1973-1979, the studio was home to the creation of some of Perry's most legendary productions and the place where his experiments in audio alchemy took shape. An incredible amount of essential reggae tracks and untold amounts of dub mixes were set to tape at Black Ark before Perry allegedly burned the entire place down himself in the culmination of a long stretch of erratic, rum-fueled mania. Nearly 40 years after the strange and magical days of the Black Ark, Perry aimed to recapture some of that innovative spirit with Back on the Controls. Recording in a modernized London studio between 2011-2013, the producer sought to re-create the original chain of vintage effects, analog tape machines, and bizarre vibes of the Black Ark setup, working with session players on a set of decidedly '70s roots reggae tunes and their corresponding dubs. While the album doesn't quite come off as an exact replica of Perry's ganja smoke-saturated, echo-damaged '70s recordings, the sounds are surprisingly true to form, with the same bright sheen of lo-fi production and bottom-heavy bass and the same alien broadcasting quality to Scratch's on-the-fly dub mixes. In particular, "Blackboard Re-Vision," "Sound of Jamaica," and "Repent" call back to some of his best work from the Black Ark days, some moments bearing an uncannily similar feel to classic Perry-produced albums such as Max Romeo's War Ina Babylon and the Congos' masterpiece Heart of the Congos. © Fred Thomas /TiVo

Although all of these 25 cover versions were recorded in the '60s, none of them were released at the time. Unfortunately, info as to the exact dates of the individual tracks has been lost, though Stax scholar Rob Bowman's liner notes figure that most of them were cut between 1965-1968, with some possibly dating from 1962-1964. Putting all of them onto a single disc decades later might seem like a vault-cleaning exercise of secondary material. But this turns out to be a surprisingly good and vibrant collection of instrumental soul interpretations of rock, soul, and pop hits of the '60s, even if it's not up to the level of Booker T. & the MG's more famous hits and original numbers. Even though these were often laid down quickly before or after sessions on which the band was backing other artists, most of these don't sound like throwaways. They're characteristically disciplined and imaginative, and the scope is remarkably wide, taking in Beatles songs, blues ("Wang Dang Doodle" and "Baby Scratch My Back"), Motown, straight pop ("Downtown"), and even some songs on which Booker T. & the MG's actually played on the original recordings (Sam & Dave's "Soul Man" and "When Something Is Wrong with My Baby," and Eddie Floyd's "On a Saturday Night"). Not all of the reworkings are top-notch; the Beatles' "You Can't Do That" is taken at a jazzy shuffle that doesn't suit the tune. But most of them are very good, and not straight copies of the original arrangements, with the band effectively cooking up different tempos and simmering guitar/organ interplay.© Richie Unterberger /TiVo