Just prior to the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, Green Day released Father of All… -- an album co-produced by Butch Walker that found the punk-pop veterans ratcheting up the glam as they tightened their song structures. It's difficult to separate the album's short shelf-life from the culture's sudden lockdown but in any case, Father didn't open up a new horizon for Green Day, so they went back to what they know works: heavy, hooky power pop given crunch and weight by Rob Cavallo, the producer who helped beef up their sound 30 years prior on their major-label debut Dookie. Saviors follows the same rough blueprint as its forefather -- garagey rockers are countered by exuberant melodies and wistful ballads -- but the trio is smart enough to not attempt to mimic either the snottiness or their frenetic rhythms here. Green Day sound exactly like what they are: rock & roll lifers settling into middle age, irritated by some shifts in culture but still finding sustenance in the music they've loved for decades. They may rhapsodize about a "Corvette Summer" in a salute to the glory days of pre-MTV AOR but age hasn't made them crankily conservative or excessively nostalgic. Green Day send certain catchy rock styles from the past through a loud, muscular filter, an execution that tempers their lingering punk influences without seeming lumbering or slow. The ballast makes Saviors seem streamlined and steady, a shift in emphasis that is impossible to ignore on first listen; they seem as if they're retracting. After that initial impression fades, Saviors sounds cleaner, stronger, and purposeful, all due to the still-sharp pop instincts of Bille Joe Armstrong. Age may dampen Green Day's roar, but it has also heightened their songcraft, and that's reason enough to give Saviors time to let its hooks sink in.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The public has still not digested the staggering début album that the Doors brought out in 1967, the same year as Strange Days. Strange indeed: these compositions are quite unlike those of any other group. The themes stumble; they are often dreamlike. If Jim Morrison sings that People Are Strange, we could say the same of the Doors... incessant changes of rhythm, lyrics that alternate between social critique and pure delirium, and almighty lurches from total trance to ballads and cabaret: it all has the air of the big top and circus acrobatics… Something like the picture on the album sleeve. A cabaret that defies classification, directed by a Morrison with greater skill than ever (his monologue on Horse Latitudes) – and the cherry on this fascinating poetical and psychedelic cake... To celebrate fifty years of the album, this edition offers two remastered versions: one in stereo, and one in mono. © MZ/Qobuz

While songwriter J.J. Cale has established himself as an elusive and even reluctant legend in popular music with his sporadic string of releases over the last 38 years, he's never drastically changed his approach. Cale is a workmanlike songwriter whose roots in blues, Okie folk, and roots rock music have been informing his tales of travel, nocturnal pleasure, and everyday life all the while. Even the acclaimed but spaced out Travel Log (which was Cale's equivalent to Neil Young's Trans) never managed to root his sound that far afield from its wellspring. 2009's Roll On, is more strange, laid-back grooves and road-weary tales of quark strangeness and charm from an inveterate master. Where the erratic but acclaimed Road to Escondido with Eric Clapton reeked of laziness and kitsch, Roll On is steeped deep in slow boogie, slower jump jazz, swampy blues, and minor-key laid-back guitar workouts. Cale not only plays guitar and sings here, but on almost all of these cuts he does double and triple duty on drums, bass, and even Rhodes piano! His guests -- including Dave Teegarden and Jim Keltner on drums on a track each, and Clapton on one number -- only appear on four of these dozen tracks. Check, "Who Knew?," the jazzy shuffle that opens the set. Cale plays everything but the drum kit (Teegarden), and lays down a smoking set of Wes Montgomery-esque chords as well as some funky Rhodes. His syncopated vocals all slip right down the backbone of the blues with lyrics worthy of Louis Jordan. "Where the Sun Don't Shine" commences with some spooky synth loops (that could have come from Travel Log), and beefy guitars, with a rudimentary snare and hi-hat keeping the I-IV-V progression moving and popping. The guitars are pure Cale choogle and the bassline is just off enough from the main rhythmic progression to add a freaky twist. Other standouts include the acoustic electric boogie "Strange Days," with some mutant five-string banjo and mandolin work from the artist; the triple-time, space groove of "Fonda-Lina" that feels like it was taken from a B-movie soundtrack during a motel lounge scene, and the popping roots rock of the title track with Slowhand and Keltner. This is a set that proves that Cale is still a vital artist who has a few interesting tricks up his sleeve, even if he doesn't change his attack all that much. Hell, he doesn't need to, he's got weight, sleight of hand, and the Okie soul in every cell of his being, and it all comes out in the tunes. This one is solid from top to bottom.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Two years after his premature death, Prince’s Ali Baba cave has offered up its first treasure. With the aptly named album Piano & A Microphone 1983, it’s with the simplest devices that his art is heard. At only 25 years old, Prince had already released five albums (For You, Prince, Dirty Mind, Controversy and 1999) and was just about to release the album that would turn him into a global star, Purple Rain. The multi-instrumentalist spent his days and nights in the studio and we find him here alone at the piano for a medley of personal compositions and two covers: Joni Mitchell’s A Case Of You and the gospel song Mary Don’t You Weep. The intimate context of this recording only amplifies the intensity of this unpublished work. Just close your eyes and you’ll find yourself alone with Prince…With his elastic voice and skilled playing, the musician from Minneapolis proves to those who doubted him that he was a true artist; both entertainer and composer, showman and improviser. His stripped back version of Purple Rain touches on the sublime and the track Strange Relationship gives an insight into the evolution of his productions, as four years later the track appeared, more muscular this time, on the album Sign o’ the Times. While Piano & A Microphone 1983 may be primarily aimed at Prince fans, novices – if there are any left – will no doubt enjoy discovering this impressive artist. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

The various releases of The Very Best of the Doors during 2001 and 2007 in the U.S. and the U.K. are very similar, both in their single-disc and double-disc permutations -- as well as a limited edition that adds a DVD to the two-CD version -- so it's very easy to get all three compilations confused. That said, there are notable differences between all three U.K. comps and the original U.S. set. The American disc from 2007 weighs in at 16 tracks while the single-disc U.K. set is longer at 20 tracks and, in fact, boasts a stronger overall selection of songs, making this arguably the best single-disc introduction to the band yet assembled. The double-disc U.K. set doesn't just add a second disc, it has a different sequencing as well and consequently feels like a very different beast than the original set. It's a compilation that digs deeper into album tracks and radio favorites, sometimes getting songs that maybe should have been on the U.K. single disc -- such as "Five to One," for instance, a Doors standard that's on the U.S. single disc but not the U.K. -- but its real strength is how it paints a richer portrait of the band. It's for the listener who wants a bigger picture of the Doors without investing in the actual albums or a box set and, in that sense, this Very Best of the Doors (along with the version with the DVD) does its job well. So, choose wisely: if you're looking for an introduction or just the hits, take either of the 2001 or 2007 single discs; if you're looking for most of the best, pick the double-disc set, either with or without the DVD; if you know you love the band already, go for Perception.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The Struts go big (yet again) on their third studio effort, the rowdy and aptly named Strange Days. Having found favor with American audiences -- the group's ascension in the U.K. has been slow but steady -- the fun-loving Brits elected to relocate to Los Angeles in February 2020, but their dreams of cosplaying the Sunset Strip shenanigans of their pop-metal forebearers were squelched as the City of Angels went on lockdown. Always the unflappable optimists, the Struts decided to turn lemons into champagne by booking a ten-day studio run and cranking out a ten-song set that both acknowledges and repudiates that paradigm shift. Commencing uncharacteristically with soft piano chords and chirping birds, the ruminative title track eventually gains momentum, with Luke Spiller's and special guest Robbie Williams' voices dovetailing into a huge, life-affirming crescendo -- Williams recorded his part at home on his porch, hence the avian choir. The likeminded but much beefier isolation lament "All Dressed Up (With Nowhere to Go)" arrives via the roar of a motorcycle and a riff that Keith Richards would probably like to have back, before settling into a tight, greasy groove. The features-heavy set continues with Def Leppard's Phil Collen and Joe Elliott remoting in on the jocular, Grand Funk Railroad-inspired "I Hate How Much I Want You," and Albert Hammond, Jr. lending his six-string skills to the sly alt-rocker "Another Hit of Showmanship," but there's little doubt about who wears the pants in this production. Spiller continues to be one of the most charismatic frontmen in the biz, and he sells everything that comes out of his mouth -- "Open up your front door, bonjour, I'm your getaway car, I could tell you my sign but I'm already a star" -- with the cocksure persuasion of someone that popped out of the womb three beers in and holding a mic stand. Strange Days shares some connective tissue with its more opulent predecessor but feels less like it was made by a committee. As per usual, the Struts pair huge commercial pop aspirations with the swagger of Faces, but this time around, it sounds like it was their idea.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers spent much of 1986 on the road as Bob Dylan's backing band. Dylan's presence proved to be a huge influence on the Heartbreakers, turning them away from the well-intentioned but slick pretensions of Southern Accents and toward a loose, charmingly ramshackle roots rock that harked back to their roots yet exhibited the professional eclecticism they developed during the mid-'80s. All of this was on full display on Let Me Up (I've Had Enough), their simplest and best album since Hard Promises. Not to say that Let Me Up is a perfect album -- far from it, actually. Filled with loose ends, song fragments, and unvarnished productions, it's a defiantly messy album, and it's all the better for it, especially arriving on the heels of the well-groomed Accents. Apart from the (slightly dated) rant "Jammin' Me'" (co-written by Dylan, but you can't tell), there aren't any standouts on the record, but there's no filler either -- it's just simply a good collection of ballads ("Runaway Trains"), country-rockers ("The Damage You've Done"), pop/rock ("All Mixed Up," "Think About Me"), and hard rockers ("Let Me Up [I've Had Enough]"). While that might not be enough to qualify Let Me Up as one of Petty & the Heartbreakers' masterpieces, it is enough to qualify it as the most underrated record in their catalog.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

R.E.M. began to move toward mainstream record production on Lifes Rich Pageant, but they didn't have a commercial breakthrough until the following year's Document. Ironically, Document is a stranger, more varied album than its predecessor, but co-producer Scott Litt -- who would go on to produce every R.E.M. album in the following decade -- is a better conduit for the band than Don Gehman, giving the group a clean sound without sacrificing their enigmatic tendencies. "Finest Worksong," the stream-of-conscious rant "It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)," and the surprise Top Ten single "The One I Love" all crackle with muscular rhythms and guitar riffs, but the real surprise is how political the mid-tempo jangle pop of "Welcome to the Occupation," "Disturbance at the Heron House," and "King of Birds" is. Where Lifes Rich Pageant sounded a bit like a party record, Document is a fiery statement, and its memorable melodies and riffs are made all the more indelible by its righteous anger. In other words, it's not only a commercial breakthrough, but a creative breakthrough as well, offering evidence of R.E.M.'s growing depth and maturity, and helping usher in the P.C. era in the process.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

The original 1976 record and initial CD versions contain half a magnificent film score, half jazz-lite cover versions of the same music. Bernard Herrmann's soundtrack, full of dark, brooding brass, menacing percussion and a bittersweet dash of jazz saxophone, greatly enhance this big city tale of obsession, paranoia and violence. Robert DeNiro's chilling narration of "Diary of a Taxi Driver" -- including the famous "You talking to me?" monologue -- served as one of the models for the anger and isolation inherent in much of punk music. For some strange reason, the entire first side of the album is devoted to bland covers of Herrmann's music by arranger Dave Blume. Thankfully, Blume's arrangements are unnoticeable in the film itself, but their inclusion here distracts from a powerful soundtrack. Blume's arrangements are firmly rooted in L.A. mid-'70s fuzak, while Herrmann's score is one for the ages.© Rick Watrous /TiVo

Natacha Atlas brings back her multi-talented team which she surrounded herself with in 2015 for her Myriad Road album with violinist and composer Samy Bishai, half-English and half-Egyptian, just like her. Their shared dual identity drives the way forward on a journey across elegant jazz arrangements where the quarter tones of Oriental music can express a whole new kind of sound. The surging vigour of Bishai’s violin and Natacha Atlas’ precise and enchanting modulating singing are both supported by a solid base of inspired international musicians. The faithful pianist Alcyona Mick (London Jazz Orchestra), the Norwegian trumpetist Hayden Powell, the Lyon trombonist Robinson Khoury, the bassist Andy Hamill (4hero, Laura Mvula, Annie Lennox…), the Midlands drummer Laurie Lowe, who alternates with the Israeli Asaf Sirkis and the Portuguese percussionist Oli Savill, each bring their own personal touch. Some featured artists enrich this tapestry even more. The Brazilian guitarist Paulo Vinìcius reinforces the languid bossa-nova of Sunny Day, the Algerian raï player Sofiane Saidi highlights the message behind Lost Revolutions, the Anglo-Swiss Tanya Wells, expert in ghazal singing, brings the sounds of India or Iran to the album on Inherent Rhythm, and soul sister Joss Stone creates a beautiful vocal contrast in the smoky atmosphere of Words of a King. But the best track is without a doubt saved for the end, the surprising cover of the James Brown classic It’s a Man’s World, which precedes the delicately stripped back Moonchild. A pioneer of the ethno-electro genre since her beginnings at the heart of Transglobal Underground, Natacha Atlas has been a successful francophone singer since her 1999 cover of  François Hardy’s Mon amie la rose and an important performer of Nick Drake in 2010; she does not stop reinventing herself by promoting a strong cross-cultural identity which allows her to command eclecticism and excellence. © Benjamin MiNiMuM/Qobuz

Against all the odds, Nazareth’s 25th album sees the band continue along the (long) path they started trekking back in 1968. The band has been around for a long time, and has had its fair share of departures, illnesses (Dan McCafferty, the original singer, retired in 2013 due to health issues), and death (drummer Darrell Sweet died of a heart attack mid-tour in 1999 at just 51 years old). Only their bassist, Pete Agnew, has had his name on the credits for fifty years. His son, Lee, joined the band as a drummer in 1999. It’s hard to imagine a rhythm section that’s more tightly knit: natural rhythm clearly runs in the family.The Nazareth of 2022 doesn’t sound remotely nostalgic, and it’s clear that this isn’t the quartet’s primary concern. This is proven by Yann Rouiller’s incredible production which sees the band venture from their Scottish roots to a more American sound. Similarly, Carl Sentance (ex-member of Persian Risk and the Geezer Butler Band who joined Nazareth in 2015) has a voice reminiscent of well-known American singers such as Jack Russell (Great White) and Axl Rose (FYI, Nazareth is one of the Guns N’ Roses singer’s favourite bands). Far from covering the same old ground for decades, this Scottish group offer an inspired, contemporary take on hard rock. Nothing is wasted, and their sound still competes with much younger bands (just as well, since there aren’t many older bands out there to compete with). Their career has been discreet and they haven’t engaged in many crazy antics. Perhaps that’s why they are still in perfect musical form: the guys still have all their neurons. Nazareth clearly still have a lot to give, and with albums like Surviving the Law, we’re not keen for them to throw in the towel. To release great music for more than half a century is a miracle—hats off to them. © Charlélie Arnaud/Qobuz

On this, their second album for A&M, Humble Pie proved that they were not the "minor league Rolling Stones" as people often described them. Led by the soulful Steve Marriot, the Pie was a great band in every sense of the word. Although Peter Frampton elevated himself to superstar status in just a few years, this album proves what an excellent lead guitarist he was. The record has an undeniable live feel to it, due in part to Glyn Johns' humble yet precise recording, framing the group as if they were a boogie version of the Band. When all of these elements come together on songs such as "Sour Grain" and "Stone Cold Fever," it's an unbeatable combination.© Matthew Greenwald /TiVo

Of all the Radiohead solo/side projects, Philip Selway's have been the most conventional. No abstract, post-rock glitchiness; no brain-scraping soundtrack work; no cross-genre experimentalism … just traditionally structured pop songs that are gentle, atmospheric, and slightly melancholic. Strange Dance remains in this vein, while also continuing Selway's sonic evolution from the laid-back and spare folksiness of his 2010 solo debut, Familial through the more enveloping and electronic-tinged approach of 2014's Weatherhouse. The music here is still intimate and straightforward, but much more cinematic and sonically complex than any of his prior solo works. Ironically, this may be due to the fact that this is the first of his solo efforts that finds the Radiohead drummer not playing drums. To be sure, there is percussion here, but it's provided by Valentina Magaletti, a wildly inventive drummer who's worked with everyone from Bat For Lashes and Gruff Rhys to Thighpaulsandra and Nicolas Jaar. Magaletti's approach on these Strange Dance tracks is both driving and spacious, melding propulsive rhythms and intricate, expansive soundscapes, giving structure and detail to songs that might otherwise drift off into diffuse solipsism. Within the rhythmic framework that Magaletti provides, Selway is able to indulge his very British songwriting style, which somehow evokes both late-era Pink Floyd and the windswept folksiness of The Magnetic North. His vocals still aren't super-strong, but his laconic, near-spoken singing style is appropriate for the material, which lets the musical accompaniment do most of the emotional heavy-lifting. Between Magaletti's filigreed percussion, banks of synth washes and string charts, and melodic piano lines, gentle cuts like "Check For Signs Of Life" and "The Heart of It All" are given a richness and density that elevate them beyond their rather mundane lyrics, while more demanding numbers like the apocalyptic and melodramatic "Salt Air" and the twisty weirdness of the title track become engaging and accessible. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

After emerging from the sacred pedal steel tradition in the African-American Pentecostal church, Robert Randolph has expanded the sonic possibilities of his instrument. Under Randolph's fingers, the pedal steel roars as the star of his fiery live shows, exploding the common perception that its best use was adding atmosphere behind country music weepers. After eight albums Randolph has settled into a forceful soul-gospel-blues-groove which he continues to enrich and explore with each new record. In this collaboration, recorded by skilled Nashville producer Dave Cobb (who also played guitar and co-wrote five of the album's tunes), Randolph mixes things up with a cover of the Pops Staples' "Simple Man," and on the funky, Meters-like "Second Hand Man." "Cut Em Loose" is a powerful hard rock number led by the kind of buzzsaw tone that won the jam band audience over to his cause years ago. The musical intensity increases on "Living Off the Love You Give," with Randolph letting loose on fierce, razor-like lead lines. Brighter Days closes with "Strange Train," another driving, jumpy, R&B-drenched dance tune where Randolph shows again why he is the pedal steel guitar's leading virtuoso. © Robert Baird / Qobuz