There's a narrative to the soundtrack for Bradley Cooper's 2018 remake of A Star Is Born, one that mirrors the one told in the movie. Often, the album features dialogue ripped from the screen -- a full 15 tracks, actually, amounting to seven minutes of this 74-minute album -- which means A Star Is Born almost plays like a Disney record from the '60s or '70s: it's designed to tide listeners over until they get a chance to see the movie again. Of course, A Star Is Born is a musical, so its soundtrack is filled with full-fledged songs, all of which serve the story that the dialogue gooses along. Strip out the distracting dialogue tracks and the plot of A Star Is Born is still evident, as the music moves from the grungy Americana of Cooper's character, through his affecting duets with Lady Gaga, toward her flashy pop, and then culminating with "I'll Never Love Again," the song where the two estranged lovers reunite. Each of these phases is expertly executed. Lukas Nelson assists Cooper in the rangy grunge of "Black Eyes," while Jason Isbell's spare "Maybe It's Time" is an affecting slice of Americana. The second stage, where Gaga is duetting with Cooper, fuses their sensibilities seamlessly, particularly on the aching ballad "Shallow" and loping country-rock of "Music to My Eyes," which was co-written by Nelson and Gaga. Her pop section plays like its own EP, and it's snappy, stylish, and savvy, particularly on the retro-disco of "Why Did You Do That?" and soulful "Heal Me." All the songs make sense narratively and on their own, so they hold together well and would amount to a first-rate soundtrack, if it weren't for those meddling dialogue tracks, which wind up sapping any kind of momentum for the album.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Porcupine Tree have always been pigeonholed with the modern prog movement, but the reality is that they're both a riff-addicted metal band and a troupe obsessed with rich harmonies and memorable refrains. Take the grinding guitar work of "Shallow" which dukes it out with frontman Steve Wilson's undeniably melodic chorus before easing into the delicate, beautifully crafted "Lazarus." Few bands exhibit this kind of depth, be it the dreamy, Pink Floyd-inspired hallucination "Halo" or the Queensrÿche echoes of "Open Car." If the 12-minute sonic meander known as "Arriving Somewhere but Not Here" is as head-trippy as rock music gets anymore, it is reassuring to know that this Tree is still growing. Ideal for headphones, Deadwing -- despite its title -- takes flight nonetheless. © John D. Luerssen /TiVo

Garlands, the first album by the Cocteau Twins published in September 1982 by the 4AD record label lay the groundwork for that unique post-punk, shoegaze and dream pop combination that the Scottish band would develop until the early 90s. Liz Garland imposes a totally atypical vocal bolstered by a dreamy charisma and which would later see dizzying acrobatics, to which Robin Guthrie adds a wall of sound: his reverb-filled guitar paints electric and often impressionist landscapes. Guthrie also pilots the machines, notably an omnipresent TR-808 which offers a nice balance against the dreamlike guitar/voice solo. On the bass is Will Heggie, who would leave the adventure in due course, replaced in 1984 by Simon Raymonde who is more inspired in this field. In hindsight, even though Garlands remains one of the greatest albums of the 80s, these Cocteau Twins appear to still be searching for some identity, too stuck in the same universe as The Cure and Siouxsie & The Banshees. However, Liz Garland and Robin Guthrie would eventually cut their ties with the cold wave and broaden the colour of their sound to deliver gems such as Treasure (1984), Victorialand (1986), Blue Bell Knoll (1988) and Heaven or Las Vegas (1990). ©️ Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Unlike perhaps any other act of the era, the Cocteau Twins' '80s discography is one that is as defined by its EP releases as it is by its full-length albums. Of the eight EPs the band released over the course of the decade, only one (Sunburst and Snowblind) was a "single" in the sense that it featured an album track and some additional material. All of the rest, from Lullabies through Love's Easy Tears were conceived, recorded, and released as standalone creations, individual statements as fully realized as the longer albums they were interspersed between. Among those individual statements, however, two EPs have always been clearly connected. Tiny Dynamine and Echoes in a Shallow Bay were released two weeks apart in November 1985 (between the release of the Treasure and Victorialand albums), shared similar conceptual themes (butterflies!) and artwork, and, more explicitly, resulted from the same recording sessions. Using a studio on loan from William Orbit, the Twins set down these tracks not with the purpose of recording a new album, but simply to figure out what could and could not be done with the new equipment at their disposal. Thus, these two EPs have lived their lives together—"like a brother and sister," according to Robin Guthrie—even being released together as a mini-LP at the height of the CD era and now, being permanently canonized as one conjoined release in the group's hi-res discography. Sitting both temporally and stylistically at the exact midpoint of the the baroque dynamism of Treasure and the spacious, percussion-free quasi-ambience of Victorialand, the collective eight tracks are, in all likelihood, the exact sound that's conjured in your head when someone says "Cocteau Twins." Guthrie's overdriven and overdubbed guitars wring feedback into thickly layered atmospheres and Simon Raymonde's warm, dubby basslines provide an anchor, while Elizabeth Fraser's voice sings unfamiliar words that may or may not be about anything, but are nonetheless deeply effective and highly melodic. And while the recipe is unmistakably what the group is associated with, this particular presentation is unique in their canon. Managing to be both ethereal and forceful, there's a mid-tempo tension to these songs; they wobble between gorgeous soundscapes and melodramatic melodies. While Guthrie's piano-like guitar work on "Melonella" points to a future collaboration with Harold Budd, and the elegant simplicity of "Eggs and Their Shells" makes it one of the group's most direct and beautiful numbers, these two EPs are best taken together, as a whole. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Real Estate has always been the perfect soundtrack for an Indian summer, soaked in soft 70s pop, a touch melancholic but never ridiculous. The New Jersey band’s music covers hedonistic pop, gold-plated arpeggios, sophisticated and sugary-sweet melodies (but not overly saccharine), with enough originality to avoid falling into the mainstream or even contracting sonic diabetes… Martin Courtney, Alex Bleeker, Jackson Pollis, Matt Kallman and Julian Lynch know the discographies of The Byrds, The Smiths, Yo La Tengo, Galaxie 500, Steely Dan and evidently The Shins like the backs of their hands. There’s enough source material there to help inspire the creation of near-perfect indie pop songs. With The Main Thing, and as is usually the case with Real Estate, behind the simplicity of the exterior façade and the apparently lax attitude, there is a state of pure beauty and talent operating behind the scenes. The elegance of the arrangement and the efficiency of the production inhabit every corner of this fifth album filled with mini hits, like Paper Cup featuring Sylvan Esso’s Amelia Meath. A 100% authentic and delightful Real Estate record. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

A.A. Williams arrived so fully formed with her 2019 debut EP and subsequent 2020 album Forever Blue that it seemed she was beyond the notion of growing up in public. As soon as she presented herself to the world, she seemed to know exactly how she wanted to sound, and achieved it at such a level of accomplishment it was hard to imagine she hadn't been making records for decades. As it happens, Williams did have some room for growth after all. As a talented cellist she overdubbed herself into an effective string section on her early recordings, but for her 2021 EP arco, she arranged some of her songs for a ten-piece string ensemble, and she's used these skills to broaden her instrumental palette on her second full-length album, 2022's As the Moon Rests, which adds string charts to the artful thunder that is her sonic template. Stylistically, As the Moon Rests isn't a radical shift from the sound of her debut, though it does find her refining her skills. The songs once again speak of dark longings and wrong turns, and not many people can make foreboding sound as grand as Williams does. Though this doesn't always feel like rock & roll, she knows how to use the building blocks of rock to craft her own epic-scale version of dynamic heaviness, and the roar of the guitars, the deep throb of the bass (courtesy of Thomas Williams, who also produced the set with her) and the balance of muscular force and carefully punctuated space in Geoff Holroyde's drumming all coheres into something spectacular. Add in the dramatic effect of Williams' string arrangements and the breathy force of her vocals and you get music that for sheer doomstruck majesty matches and often exceeds the impact of Forever Blue. (The craft of this material gets an assist from this music being recorded in a proper studio, rather than in the makeshift setup in Williams' apartment where the first album was made.) If As the Moon Rests ultimately isn't as impressive as Forever Blue, it's largely a matter of songwriting; the songs are consistently good, but lack a bit of the emotional force and presence of the debut, despite the excellence of her craft. That said, if Forever Blue was a great debut, As the Moon Rests is a very good follow-up, and leaves no doubt that A.A. Williams is a remarkable talent who is still honoring her singular vision. © Mark Deming. /TiVo

As an alternative/hard rock band, the defining point of one's career is signing to a major label. With that said, it makes it all the more surprising that just as Lifer had begun to create a buzz on mainstream radio, guitarist Aaron Fink and bassist Mark James Klepaski quit in order to join Breaking Benjamin. Whether they saw something special in this independent band or were just sick of their former band's career decisions is unknown, but Breaking Benjamin went on to sign to Hollywood Records, and Saturate has serious potential to become one of 2002's most successful debuts, as although it is repetitive and generic, it is undeniably addictive. Molding hard rock in the vein of Nickelback with the more aggressive side of Korn, Saturate is accessible and slightly heavier than much music suitable for excessive radio play, yet allows the listener to identify with the themes present on the disc. Breaking Benjamin still follows the formulaic pattern of most every hard rock group since the mid-'90s -- the music is hard to resist. The only noticeable dilemma apparent here is that the album drags once it hits "Next to Nothing" and never quite picks back up. Those who enjoyed Lifer certainly should like the rock offered here, and this album should fit in well with other modern rock releases of the here today/gone tomorrow variety.© Jason D. Taylor /TiVo

There's a narrative to the soundtrack for Bradley Cooper's 2018 remake of A Star Is Born, one that mirrors the one told in the movie. Often, the album features dialogue ripped from the screen -- a full 15 tracks, actually, amounting to seven minutes of this 74-minute album -- which means A Star Is Born almost plays like a Disney record from the '60s or '70s: it's designed to tide listeners over until they get a chance to see the movie again. Of course, A Star Is Born is a musical, so its soundtrack is filled with full-fledged songs, all of which serve the story that the dialogue gooses along. Strip out the distracting dialogue tracks and the plot of A Star Is Born is still evident, as the music moves from the grungy Americana of Cooper's character, through his affecting duets with Lady Gaga, toward her flashy pop, and then culminating with "I'll Never Love Again," the song where the two estranged lovers reunite. Each of these phases is expertly executed. Lukas Nelson assists Cooper in the rangy grunge of "Black Eyes," while Jason Isbell's spare "Maybe It's Time" is an affecting slice of Americana. The second stage, where Gaga is duetting with Cooper, fuses their sensibilities seamlessly, particularly on the aching ballad "Shallow" and loping country-rock of "Music to My Eyes," which was co-written by Nelson and Gaga. Her pop section plays like its own EP, and it's snappy, stylish, and savvy, particularly on the retro-disco of "Why Did You Do That?" and soulful "Heal Me." All the songs make sense narratively and on their own, so they hold together well and amount to a first-rate soundtrack.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Louis Cole has many admirers. To name just a couple: Quincy Jones, who had Cole’s band KNOWER play for his Quincy Jones presents series, and Anthony Kiedis (Red Hot Chilli Peppers), who loved Cole’s electro-retro-pop single ‘Bank Account’. Cole managed to convince Flying Lotus to sign him on its Brainfeeder label. This makes sense as, like Lotus, Cole has a relationship with jazz that is far more spiritual than academic. ‘The root of jazz is pure freedom,’ says Cole, ‘no limits… just what you’re thinking of right at that moment.’ Louis Cole’s mind is awash with a variety of thoughts as he constantly searches for the melody or hook that will take hold of the audience. Listeners are plunged into a whirlpool of sounds: samba (‘Not Needed Anymore’); lyricism (‘Shallow Laughter’); synthetic metal (‘Bitches’), R&B (‘Message’ with Nate Wood), folk ballads (‘Disappear’) and, finally, electro-funk alongside his faithful companion Genevieve Artadi (‘Don’t Care’). The most impressive aspect of this unique ‘Cole Touch’ is that all these styles work together, even when he raps over a techno BPM (‘Failing in a Cool Way’). ‘This album is a representation of me trying to make the best, most powerful and listenable music I can’, explains the multi-instrumentalist, who certainly succeeds in demonstrating his versatility across many genres. An audacious, spectacular rollercoaster of an album that’s not to be missed. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

The debut album from the whimsical, Tom Faithfull-fronted Wrexham, North Wales indie quartet was recorded with Alex Quinn at Liverpool's Parr Street studios. It follows two well-received EPs, 2020's The State I'm In and 2021's Lying Here, Wasting Away. Included is the BBC Radio 1 playlisted single "Shallow Tragedy" and a re-recorded version of the EP track "Cherophobe." © James Wilkinson /TiVo

"Joris Voorn’s album FOUR is polished and controlled in every respect."© TiVo

Icon represents a turning point for Paradise Lost: vocalist Nick Holmes loses the limiting growl in favor of a James Hetfield-style bark and Gregorian chants, while mastermind Gregor Mackintosh (lead guitar) further perfects his brand of baroque metal. Although older fans were beginning to protest that the band was becoming a sellout, this album retains the harsh edge of earlier albums while refining a more artistic vision for the band. Experimentation fits in flawlessly with the new sound: synthesized strings on "Embers Fire," angry coliseum crowds on "Colossal Rains," timpani and piano in "Deus Misereatur," and angelic female vocals in "Christendom." It would be difficult to overstate the mastery and genius behind Mackintosh's guitar work and arrangements. The album's scope is majestic and the end result is nothing short of glorious. Listeners who prefer the heavier elements of these songs should move backward in the band's canon, preferably to Gothic; those who are thoroughly satisfied with the sound may enjoy Draconian Times even more.© Christopher Anderson /TiVo