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

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

Winter's debut album for Columbia was also arguably his bluesiest and best. Straight out of Texas with a hot trio, Winter made blues-rock music for the angels, tearing up a cheap Fender guitar with total abandon on tracks like "I'm Yours and I'm Hers," "Leland Mississippi Blues," and perhaps the slow blues moment to die for on this set, B.B. King's "Be Careful with a Fool." Winter's playing and vocals have yet to become mannered or clichéd on this session, and if you've ever wondered what the fuss is all about, here's the best place to check out his true legacy.© Cub Koda /TiVo

Surprisingly, very few artists can float a digital-age collection of number one singles without resorting to trickery involving foreign countries or obscure charts. The Beatles had little trouble (The Beatles 1) and Elvis Presley managed both a disc of number ones (Elvis: 30 #1 Hits) and one of number twos (2nd to None), but Michael Jackson bent the rules so far that calling his disc Number Ones is tantamount to consumer fraud. Additionally, a collection of number one singles may not be the best representation of an artist's career; the Elvis volume included nothing from his Sun years, and the Beatles' set skipped "Strawberry Fields Forever." The #1's, Motown's collection of chart-toppers by Diana Ross & the Supremes, fares much better. It benefits from two Supremes characteristics: as a pop group through and through, their biggest hits were often their best songs, and, with the help of the solo Diana Ross, they spent a long time on the charts (nearly 20 years separates the Supremes' debut at the top from Ross' last number one single). While Motown's separate volumes on Diana Ross and the Supremes (in the Ultimate Collection series) remain the best source for a single-disc picture of either act, The #1's works remarkably well. It includes 19 number one pop singles (13 from the group, six from the solo Ross), plus various number ones on the R&B and dance charts, and there aren't any glaring omissions. Granted, fans of early Motown can't live without the girl-group chestnuts "Buttered Popcorn" and "Your Heart Belongs to Me," while those who enjoy latter-day Ross won't find "One More Chance" or "Why Do Fools Fall in Love?" -- but of course, this collection wasn't created with them in mind. For the group who recorded more hit singles during the '60s than any other act except the Beatles, and for one of the reigning solo artists of the '70s, The #1's is a worthy tribute.© John Bush /TiVo

Although many of Billie Holiday's recordings for Commodore and Decca are often overlooked -- at least in comparison to the songs that bookend her career (for Columbia and Verve) -- they include some of her best work, beginning at the end of the '30s with "Strange Fruit" and stretching to the end of the '40s with "God Bless the Child." In 1939, Billie Holiday was a jazz sensation without a hit record. She gained that hit record, and began her journey to musical immortality, when her label Columbia refused to record "Strange Fruit," and jazz fan Milt Gabler welcomed her to his aficionado label, Commodore. Gabler recorded Holiday often over the next ten years, both at Commodore and through his work at Decca in the mid-to late '40s. While on Commodore, Holiday focused on downcast ballads, including "I Cover the Waterfront" and "I Gotta Right to Sing the Blues" (dubbed "loser" songs by Gabler), but she also excelled with warm and affectionate material too, "Embraceable You" and "On the Sunny Side of the Street." Regardless of the material, her backing consisted of small groups usually led by a pair of saloon-sound maestros: Doc Cheatham on trumpet and Eddie Heywood on piano. That sound was in for a switch when Holiday moved to Decca, however, beginning with another big hit, "Lover Man," a pop ballad with the full crossover treatment -- strings and all. (Gabler had no compunction about false notions of purity, and he happily recorded Holiday with strings and backing choruses whenever the song demanded it.) Even more than her work for Commodore, Holiday's work for Decca was melancholy and resigned in the extreme, with sterling treatments of yet more loser songs: "Don't Explain," "Good Morning Heartache," "You Better Go Now," and "What Is This Thing Called Love." Individually, the songs are excellent, and as a package, The Complete Commodore & Decca Masters can hardly be beat. It's a splendid accompaniment to similar sets devoted to Billie Holiday's Columbia and Verve output, and while completists will bemoan the lack of the many alternate takes -- most of the Commodore sides have two alternate takes for each master recording, available elsewhere -- this is all the war-years Billie Holiday one could hope for.© John Bush /TiVo

The first seven selections on this CD reissue a 1978 duet concert featuring the quiet guitarist Ed Bickert and bassist Don Thompson. A little reminiscent of a famous Jim Hall/Ron Carter collaboration, the music alternates introspective ballads with a couple romps, including a brisk "What Is This Thing Called Love." Bickert's playing is both swinging and sophisticated, often utilizing re-harmonized chords, while Thompson functions as an equal partner. The final four selections are from a previously unreleased trio. For unknown reasons this session was never completed, but the music is on the same high level as the live duet performance. In fact, the subtle drumming makes it easier for the group to swing harder, with Hoagy Carmichael's "One Morning in May" being a highlight. Recommended. © Scott Yanow /TiVo

Three years in gestation -- which, in Peter Gabriel time, is a mere handful of months -- And I'll Scratch Yours, the companion piece to the 2010 covers album Scratch My Back, finds most (but certainly not all) of the artists who were interpreted on Gabriel's album returning the favor by tackling the progressive singer/songwriter's back catalog. Not every artist chose to scratch Gabriel's back. Radiohead reportedly were irked by his version of "Street Spirit (Fade Out)" and Neil Young followed his own path away from Gabriel, so Joseph Arthur was drafted to contribute an entirely too moody version of "Shock the Monkey" and, better, Brian Eno dug into the dark, unsettling corners of "Mother of Violence." Eno is a contemporary of Gabriel's -- he contributed to Genesis' masterwork The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway -- and, like on Scratch My Back, the veteran artists provide a better, riskier experience than the younger acts. Generally, the newer artists here -- Bon Iver, Regina Spektor, Arcade Fire, Elbow, Feist; Stephin Merritt is a grand exception with his nervy reading of "Not One of Us" -- favor the moody, foreboding side of Gabriel while his peers prefer to play around. Lou Reed turns the celebratory "Solsbury Hill" into a dirge befitting Magic and Loss (and changes the lyrics to read "my friends would think I was a slut" because, you know, sexual danger), David Byrne seizes upon the new wave disco menace of "I Don't Remember," Randy Newman spins "Big Time" into vaudeville, and, best of all, Paul Simon turns "Biko" into the folk protest anthem it always longed to be. And there are moments scattered among the younger acts worth hearing, too: Arcade Fire retain the ominous, dangerous air of "Games Without Frontiers," Spektor lends a gorgeous shimmer to "Blood of Eden," and Feist retains the delicacy of "Don't Give Up." This doesn't amount to a cohesive record -- although it favors the contemplative, there are too many shifts in mood here from track to track -- but it is without question a worthwhile record, as its best moments are strong, substantive reinterpretations that illustrate just how good a songwriter Peter Gabriel is.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /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

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

The second album-length collaboration between Jon Anderson and Vangelis is almost perfect in its blending of elements; it's only when the pair tries to do some serious rocking on "Back to School" that things take a bit of a nosedive. Other than that, though, there are some classic cuts to be found on this record, including the breathtaking "I'll Find My Way Home," "State of Independence" (which became a popular tune to cover), and the brilliantly optimistic "Mayflower," which catapults the listener into a star-traveling future. Grand stuff.© Steven McDonald /TiVo

The Who’s golden age has long passed, but this release is nothing short of a miracle. The London group’s magic was shattered upon the death of Keith Moon in 1978; their two 1981 and 1982 albums incidentally drew little interest. Their 2006 album, which came four years after the death of bassist John Entwistle barely raised the bar. It was difficult to expect anything great to come from the remaining duo but then, in 2019, Who was released. The tireless efforts of Pete Townshend, the band’s determined guitarist and composer was ready to do anything to make another album after many long years out of the studio. Produced by Dave Sardy (who we know more for his work with bands like Helmet, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Marilyn Manson and System of a Down), this record goes back to a true and honest form of rock that some more experimental additions (such as some electronic sounds) do not tarnish. Townshend, conscience of his age like his associate Roger Daltrey, recognises the futility of trying to chase after a lost youth. On the contrary, many of the songs seem to articulate the image of inevitability, the aging rocker. Are rockers destined for long-lasting careers? Perhaps not. But they have weathered the winds and here they are. The foundation to many of the songs is his novel Age of Anxiety which was intended to be converted into a musical before Townshend turned his interest onto making a veritable Who album. Who is a not the most full-on rock album and is less energetic than what we are used to. But it is incredibly well written (Rockin’ Rage, Detour), containing beautiful, unifying choruses (Street Song) and some forthright messages as heard on the first words to All This Music Must Fade: “I don’t care, I know you’re gonna hate this song, and that’s fair, we never really got along.” It’s a somewhat indirect way of talking about the relationship between Townshend and Daltrey who don’t compose together. The guitarist writes, the singer performs. After years of a love-hate relationship and recurrent feuds, one might imagine that this bad chemistry would show on the album, especially considering the separate recording sessions. However, the result is clear. It works! The rockers who sang of dying before getting old in 1965 now sing of not wanting to get wise (I Don’t Wanna Get Wise). If getting wise means recording songs like these ones, we won’t complain. The Deluxe version offers a remix by Townshend of Beads on One String and also a live acoustic taken from their unique concert given on Valentine’s Day 2020 at Kingston-on-Thames, 50 years day for day after the recording of the famous Live at Leeds. While it lacks some songs played on this day (notably Pinball Wizard and Behind Blue Eyes), simply listening to classics like Substitute and Won’t Get Fooled Again in this new format is enchanting and hard-hitting despite the lack of saturation. Our old rockers are still going strong and know how to interpret tracks that balance the band’s identity without ever making themselves appear old and frail. A real mark of wisdom despite their refusal to accept so. Rock’n’roll still lives. © Chief Brody/Qobuz 

The Art & Soul of Houston Person is a unique compilation. The great saxophonist has recorded as a leader for labels such as Prestige, 20th Century, Muse, Savant, and is currently with High Note, where this appears. His tenure at Prestige is the only one longer than this one. As such, this massive, three-disc collection is drawn from a dozen High Note albums cut in as many years. The unifying factor in these cuts is that they were not chosen randomly to include simply stellar performances, but from his wide-ranging interpretations on standards; in addition, they were all recorded by Rudy Van Gelder at his studios in Englewood Cliffs, NJ. There are 30 performances in all, including four that open disc one which are all new takes on tunes he'd tracked previously, but this time out with his current quartet of pianist John di Martino, bassist Jon Burr, and drummer Jerome Jennings. Some of the other players on this comp include pianists Bill Charlap, Stan Hope, and Richard Wyands, bassists Ray Drummond, Ron Carter, Per-Ola Gadd, Peter Washington, and George Kaye, drummers Grady Tate, Chip White, and Kenny Washington, and guitarists Russell Malone and Paul Bollenback. The readings of these tunes make for a very unified collection because no matter who the personnel are and what gifts they bring to the table, Person has a way of playing songs that not only retain their melody, but their melodic integrity; his is simply not interested in employing them as frameworks for showboat improvisation. His own inventiveness is in how warm and dignified a melodist he is. He sings through the horn with the emotional commitment of Ben Webster, the soul of Gene Ammons, and the studied elegance of Paul Quinichette and Frank Wess. Listeners will have a great time picking their favorites out of this morass of excellent material, but it is safe to say that Person makes virtually all of it compelling -- there isn't a dull second here. Whether it's "Sentimental Journey,"and "All The Things You Are," or "Blue Moon" and "Mack the Knife," these sides are drenched in classy sophistication and down-home soul. Highly recommended.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Usher proved that he had a strong, soulful voice with his self-titled debut, but he fulfilled his potential on his second record, My Way. What makes Usher distinctive from his urban loverman peers is the fact that he doesn't oversing; he simply delivers his songs soulfully. Unfortunately, he falls prey to uneven material, just like any of his peers, but there are more strong songs on My Way than many contemporary R&B albums from the late '80s. Both Jermaine Dupri and Babyface contribute seamless productions and fine songs; respectively, "You Make Me Wanna..." and "Bedtime" are their best ballad contributions. Even if the ballads are usually seductive and romantic, cuts like the funky "Just Like Me," which features a cameo from Lil' Kim, might make you wish Usher didn't play it cool all of the time. And while it's refreshing to hear a hip-hop/urban R&B album clock in at a reasonable running time, it would have been nice if the tenth track was something other than a remix of "You Make Me Wanna..." Nevertheless, it's a strong second effort that showcases Usher at his best.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

An eclectic collection of covers from one of jazz-pop's most eclectic performers, Pop Pop travels from the stage to tin pan alley through Jimi Hendrix's sky. Rickie Lee Jones cradles each of these songs with her pleading, gentle voice, backing them with subtle orchestration courtesy of notable performers including Robben Ford, Joe Henderson, and Charlie Haden. Her attention to love songs of the '40s and '50s demonstrates almost a longing for simpler times and simpler love, and these qualities are echoed in the treatment of songs like "My One and Only Love" and "I'll Be Seeing You." Her subdued take on the psychedelic Jimi Hendrix screamer "Up From the Skies" is slowed to a bluesy acoustic number, while the bratty refrain from Peter Pan's "I Won't Grow Up" seems blushingly sweet.While fans of the folk styles she demonstrated with her 1979 self-titled debut might not see as much merit in these soulful jazz interpretations, it still demonstrates Jones' ability to evolve and her unwillingness to be pinned down into one category.© Zac Johnson /TiVo

50 Year Trip: Live at Red Rocks is designed as a celebration of John Fogerty's life in music, its anniversary date pegged to the release of Creedence Clearwater Revival's first album in 1968. This specific album is tied to a concert film shot at the celebrated Colorado venue on June 20, 2019, and it features a strong set list covering all of his CCR and solo signatures. Fogerty is playing with a seasoned supporting band so the performance is tight; even when the group stretches out -- which they do on "The Old Man Down the Road," "I Heard It Through the Grapevine," and "Keep On Chooglin'," the latter being the lone surprise in the set -- they never miss a mark. The precision may mean 50 Year Trip: Live at Red Rocks lacks spontaneity, but the album does showcase Fogerty at the height of his showmanship. He performed at Red Rocks to entertain the crowd by playing the hits, and what worked in concert works on record, too.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Truly a band out of time, Giant might have sold millions of records during the heyday of album-oriented rock in the early '80s, but their bright melodies and clean production values sounded completely unfashionable by 1989 standards. Strong opener "I'm a Believer" hints at but doesn't betray the band's Christian beliefs and leads the way into such solid arena rock anthems as "Innocent Days" and "Hold Back the Night" and gorgeous power ballads like "It Takes Two" and "I'll See You in My Dreams." The latter did manage to briefly crack the Top 20, but with other tracks such as "I Can't Get Close to You" and "No Way Out" veering dangerously close to Loverboy territory, this is hardly a perfect album. The band members' utter lack of image (all were rather faceless ex-session musicians) didn't help either, and Giant would only manage to struggle through one more album before calling it a day.© Eduardo Rivadavia /TiVo