Midnights isn't a retreat so much as a return, a revival of the moody electro-pop that kept Reputation roiling. Where that 2017 record carried a measure of defiance, the vibe of Midnights is contemplative even when beats are insistent, as they are on occasion. Despite these fleeting moments of urgency, the record is clearly a soundtrack to be played in the wee hours of the morning. In that sense, Midnights is a kindred spirit to Folklore and Evermore, the twin 2020 albums Swift released during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, yet those records felt like collections of short stories where these songs -- whether in their standard 13-song variation or the lengthy "3 AM Edition" which runs an additional seven tracks -- all feel like confessions, even if they display the sense of exacting lyrical detail she's honed since Lover. These compositions provide a sturdy foundation on a record that wants to capture the aimless suspension of late-night insomnia, a time filled with regret, recriminations, and resignations. Swift spikes this moodiness with hints of steeliness -- witness the cool swagger of "Vigilante Shit" -- but that's merely an accent on an album designed to deliver variations on one specific mood. Although this monochromatic palette tends to highlight the limits of co-producer Jack Antonoff's bag of tricks -- nothing here feels surprising, even when he's playing with textures and teasing out the music's dream pop elements -- the narrow focus is the main attribute of Midnights, as it plays to Swift's sense of control and craft: she may be singing about messy emotions but she sculpts those tangled feelings into shimmering, resonant songs.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

"Mosquitoes can enjoy me/ I can't go inside," Mitski sings—lulls—on "Buffalo Replaced," a bottom-heavy grunge ballad from her seventh album that finds the singer revealing a nagging self-vexation. "I have a hope/ Though she's blind with no name/ She shits where she's supposed to feed herself when I'm away/ Sometimes I think it would be easier without her." Like Tori Amos, Kate Bush, or Frank Ocean, Mitski has a tendency to reveal so much wildness via a calming presence. Not that the weight isn't heavy; back in 2019, she announced her "last show indefinitely," later admitting that she was worn down by physical and mental exhaustion caused by the music business and its "super-saturated version of consumerism," but also the demands of representation. She has criticized always having her Asian American heritage pointed out; "It's like racism masked in progressive thought … I'm a symbol." Last year she told the BBC: "I needed to step away to get out of that mechanism and just learn how to be human again, I think." That break led Mitski to what she calls "my most American album … This land, which already feels inhospitable to so many of its inhabitants, is about to feel hopelessly torn and tossed again—at times, devoid of love. This album offers the anodyne." Drawing from influences including Ennio Morricone's high-drama spaghetti western scores and Carter Burwell's "tundra-filling Fargo soundtrack," The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We finds Mitski pairing her sometimes dark thoughts with music and sounds—an orchestra arranged and conducted by Drew Erickson, and a 17-voice choir—that convey turmoil. On "When Memories Snow," both piano and Mitski's vocals determine a marching pace while she presents a haunting internal scenario:  "When memories snow/ And cover up the driveway/ I shovel all those memories ... and when memories melt/ I hear them in the drainpipe/ Dripping through the downspout/ As I lie awake in the dark." Then the orchestral tension builds and explodes, horns and strings and choral voices elbowing each other for space. Opener "Bug Like an Angel" starts off like an acoustic campfire nod-along as Mitski sings, "As I got older, I learned I'm a drinker/ Sometimes a drink feels like family"—then, out of nowhere, a full-throated, big as Broadway choir trills "family!" She remains on even keel for "The Deal" as the music swirls like an atmospheric weather system, finally picking up to tornado strength, grabbing everything in its path and tossing it. It's not all chaos, though, as the anodyne settles in. Countrified "Heaven" is light with strings and Cowboy Junkies-esque. "My Love All Mine" is swoony romance, rich and full. And "Star" twinkles and explodes into a supernova, as Mitski convinces that lost love is never completely lost. At the end, "I Love Me After You," there is majesty—big buzz, crashing cymbals—as she performs a self-care routine (hydration, toner, brushing her hair) only to proclaim, "I love me after you/ King of all the land." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Taylor Swift's cottage-core era is over. For the singer's 10th album, she's revived the best bits of her 1989 album—the chill of "Blank Space," "Style"—and re-thought them for the moment. It's synth pop that's not trying to be perfect (which isn't to say every move Swift makes isn't calculated): Sometimes the sounds are warped, even grotesque. The vocals on"Midnight Rain" are slowed and warped to a David Lynch-ian place. It's ironic that Maggie Rogers borrowed a touch of Swift's folksy side for her latest record, because Midnights often sounds like Rogers' electro-pop. You can hear it on bubbling "Karma" and  "Lavender Haze," which finds Swift feeling constrained by society's prudish expectations on celebrities—the constant questions about engagements, marriage, children. "All they keep asking me/ Is if I'm gonna be your bride," she seems to be saying to longtime boyfriend Joe Alwyn. "The only kinda girl they see/ Is a one-night or a wife." There are also shades of Lorde—another collaborator of Swift's producer Jack Antonoff—on  "Vigilante Shit," with its ice-cold beats. The song is supposedly a stiletto to the heart of Swift's  former manager—the one who sold the singer's master recordings out from under her. "I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends," she sings, seemingly having revealed that she gave a wife the evidence needed for a pricey divorce settlement. Twee "Snow on the Beach" features (barely, thanks to Antonoff's lasagna-thick vocal layers) Lana Del Rey  and a quick nod to a Jackson —"I'm all for you like Janet," name-checking the singer's 2001 hit—who sent Swift flowers in 2009 after Kanye West stole her moment at the VMAs. And while Swift keeps her loyalties close and her enmities closer, the one big surprise of Midnights is that she exposes a new villain: herself. "Did you hear my covert narcissism/ I disguise as altruism/ Like some kind of congressman?" she sings on the the album's best track "Anti-Hero," addressing years of public skepticism. "Hi/ I'm the problem/ It's me." ("This song really is a guided tour throughout all of the things I tend to hate about myself," Swift has said.) And then there's the charming closer "Mastermind," on which she confesses both to making a romantic meeting look accidental and reveals the origin story of her calculating ways: "No one wanted to play with me as a little kid/ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since/ To make them love me and make it seem effortless." Musically, "You're on Your Own, Kid" feels as light and innocent as an early Swift country song. Lyrically, it's as revealing as anything she's ever committed to tape: "I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this/ I hosted parties and starved my body … My friends from home don't know what to say/ I looked around in a blood-soaked gown/ And I saw something they can't take away/ 'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz  

J.J. Cale was the embodiment of cool blues. With his atypical blend of rock, folk, country, blues and jazz, he was one of the most influential figures in rock'n' roll. Worshipped by Clapton, the Cocaine writer who spent most of his time in a mobile home remains the essence of a laid-back and relaxed musical style. For his fans, Stay Around is a gift from heaven. This posthumous record from April 2019 brings together fifteen unreleased songs mixed and produced by Cale himself and compiled by his widow, Christine Lakeland, and his old collaborator and manager Mike Kappus. "I wanted to find stuff that was completely unheard to max-out the ‘Cale factor'," says Lakeland, "using as much that came from John’s ears and fingers and his choices as I could, so I stuck to John’s mixes. You can make things so sterile that you take the human feel out. But John left a lot of that human feel in. He left so much room for interpretation.” Obviously, all these gems - from the stripped back Oh My My My to the more elaborate Chasing You - do not change anything at all about what we knew and loved about this king of cool. The quality of Stay Around, which never sounds slap-dash, proves that the man took every second of his art seriously. And as always with him, we come out of this posthumous album with the feeling of having fully lived a human and warm encounter. A sincere and engaging experience, connected to the soul and the gut. Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Love it or hate it, Over-Nite Sensation was a watershed album for Frank Zappa, the point where his post-'60s aesthetic was truly established; it became his second gold album, and most of these songs became staples of his live shows for years to come. Whereas the Flo and Eddie years were dominated by rambling, off-color comedy routines, Over-Nite Sensation tightened up the song structures and tucked sexual and social humor into melodic, technically accomplished heavy guitar rock with jazzy chord changes and funky rhythms; meanwhile, Zappa's growling new post-accident voice takes over the storytelling. While the music is some of Zappa's most accessible, the apparent callousness and/or stunning sexual explicitness of "Camarillo Brillo," "Dirty Love," and especially "Dinah-Moe Humm" leave him on shaky aesthetic ground. Zappa often protested that the charges of misogyny leveled at such material missed out on the implicit satire of male stupidity, and also confirmed intellectuals' self-conscious reticence about indulging in dumb fun; however, the glee in his voice as he spins his adolescent fantasies can undermine his point. Indeed, that enjoyment, also evident in the silly wordplay, suggests that Zappa is throwing his juvenile crassness in the face of critical expectation, asserting his right to follow his muse even if it leads him into blatant stupidity (ironic or otherwise). One can read this motif into the absurd shaggy-dog story of a dental floss rancher in "Montana," the album's indisputable highlight, which features amazing, uncredited vocal backing from Tina Turner and the Ikettes. As with much of Zappa's best '70s and '80s material, Over-Nite Sensation could be perceived as ideologically problematic (if you haven't got the constitution for FZ's humor), but musically, it's terrific.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Here is an album that includes what are probably some of the most overplayed, overused themes in the history of film scores. However, if you can get past the familiarity and actually listen to what's there, you'll find another well-written score from John Williams.© Tavia Hobart /TiVo

Christmas has come early! That’s the spirit German label ACT is evoking with this delightful exclusive compilation. The tracks on the album are extraordinarily varied, from classical jazz (Irving Berlin’s “Snow”, Felix Bernard’s “Winter Wonderland”; Mel Tormé’s “Christmas Song”, Thad Jones’ “A Child is Born”), to traditional songs arranged à la Dixieland (“O Tannenbaum”) or ‘Burt Bacharach style’ (“Es wird scho glei dumpa”). It also takes us on a trip to the more cozy climates of Scandinavian folk jazz (the stunning “Vinter” by singer Janne Mark accompanied by trumpetist Arve Henriksen), and features the Jazzrausch Big Band, singers Viktoria Tolstoy and Jeanette Köhn, pianist Ida Sand, as well as the group Echoes of Spring along with pianist David Helbok. Through this kaleidoscope of moods, masterfully incarnated by a panel of highly diverse voices, including that of Landgren who, along with the trombone, doesn’t hesitate to carry a tune himself, this record is enchanting. A true success. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz      

What is more magical than a Christmas album by a trio of female singers who execute close harmony to perfection? Briefly, close harmony is a singing technique in which the voices are very close to one another and remain confined to a single octave. In this regard, The Puppini Sisters are heiresses in a long and prestigious line of vocal music groups, the most famous undoubtedly being The Andrews Sisters, a trio who entertained Americans in the dark years of the 1940s. The Puppini Sisters took the same comforting approach when they conceived this album, recorded in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic, or more precisely, during the 2020 holiday season. For Marcella Puppini, the group’s founder, this record, exclusively available on Qobuz, wasn’t solely about the music: “It was about reaching out and touching the hearts of our fans when they needed it the most. The joy we received in return was the best Christmas gift we could ask for.” Recorded in front of a live audience (reduced to follow safety measures) at Premises Studios in London, this album consists of classic, essential Christmas songs, from “Jingle Bells” to “Let It Snow”, “O Holy Night”, and many in between. Such a selection, paired with this vocal technique, inevitably immerses us into waters that are decidedly retro. The British trio revisits the past with sparkling enthusiasm, and sometimes, a touch of irony. To this end, the mischievous Puppini Sisters have also chosen more unexpected tracks, like George Michael’s “Last Christmas”, to which they bring a delightfully jazzy sensuality. They have also made sure to give a nod to Marcella’s Italian roots, covering “Ba Ba Baciami”, a bouncy foxtrot created in 1940 by Roman Alberto Rabagliati. Accompanied by a piano, an accordion, a bass, and, obviously, bells, The Puppini Sisters recreate the spirit of Christmas in all of its warmth, color, and joy. © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

Never underestimate Cher. Somehow this unstoppable chanteuse, who has been making solo albums since 1965, had never released a Christmas album until now. In typical Cher fashion, it's a glossy, super-produced session that covers all the styles she's mastered over the years, while also cannily touching some familiar bases of Christmas music. The splashy, catchy by-the-numbers dancefloor filler, "DJ Play a Christmas Song," a creation of six songwriters, rightly puts her booming vocals front and center. Darlene Love, Stevie Wonder, Michael Bublé Cyndi Lauper and Tyga are an impressive guest list with each appearing on a track. While the Tyga and downbeat Bublé tracks are forgettable, Stevie Wonder adds a trademark harmonica solo and a heartfelt laugh to "What Christmas Means to Me." Opening with the bells heard in the original version, Cher leans into a bravura take of Charles Brown's classic blues plea, "Please Come Home for Christmas." She slays another early classic, digging into "Run Rudolph Run," proving again that she has few equals as a pop singer as she deftly swings through Chuck Berry's brilliant lyrics: "Said Santa to a girl child, 'What would please you most to get?'/ 'A little baby doll that can cry, sleep, drink and wet'/ And then away went Rudolph, he was whizzin' like a Saber jet." A convincing replica of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound hovers around "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" which features Darlene Love, who sang lead on the gold standard 1963 version on Spector's nonpareil A Christmas Gift for You.  Cher gives a credible run at Eartha Kitt's slinky hit, "Santa Babyn" and a cover of The Zombies "This Will Be Our Year," is an effective, non-seasonal closer. Hitting many of the right notes with plenty of sparkle, Cher's first Christmas outing is an instant classic.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

The Red Hot Chili Peppers are having fun in 2022. After Unlimited Love, released seven months ago, the Californians are following up with Return Of The Dream Canteen, certainly their best album in a long time. Why? Because its raw, stripped-back vibes drop us right in the middle of a hefty, super-controlled jam session. Of course, the two records were recorded at the same time, but the band clearly wanted to deliver two distinct musical intentions—and it works. It’s obviously impossible to escape their adolescent ravings about ‘high school’, and tedious teachers on the single ‘Eddie’. But the main thing is that the second half is all Stratocaster, which entails a series of pretty adventurous ideas. For example, there are two tracks which use electronic drums: ‘My Cigarette’ (which is almost reminiscent of Prince) and the TR-808 cowbell-clad ballad that is ‘In The Snow’. These pleasantly surprising choices are mixed together with the usual irony of ‘Peace and Love’, the whispered pop delirium of ‘Shoot Me A Smile’, and of course the essential funk-rock urges on ‘Afterlife’ or on the single ‘Tippa My Tongue’. Like its predecessor, Return Of The Dream Cantine is produced by Rick Rubin, who clearly pushed the band to remove any sense of artifice and thus contributed to making this album such a great success in terms of its composition and arrangement. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

This program brings together two great French composers, separated by almost two centuries, that we would not think of bringing together spontaneously. But the freedom of mind of the Icelandic pianist looks at it otherwise, who, for his third album with Deutsche Grammophon, wanted to highlight their affinities as their contrasts in the light of their innovative contribution to the musical thought of their time. "I scratch my head wondering why Rameau's music is not played more. Between quality, inventiveness and unpredictability, there is never any element of formula in these pieces”, says Víkingur Ólafsson. By instinctively associating these style characteristics with those specific to Debussy, he decided to make an album of them: "I want to show Rameau as a futurist and underline the deep roots of Debussy in French baroque — and in Rameau's music in particular. The idea is that the listener almost forgets who is who by listening to the album." Debussy, who never stopped defending the French tradition by opposing it to German music, liked the decorative and complex lines of this Baroque composer with a French spirit like his own.An initial idea in the development of this skillfully constructed program, the transcription for piano of Debussy from Prélude to his Cantata La Damoiselle introduces it. Like the album's visual, Víkingur Ólafsson aims to be suggestive even in the accent he gives in Rameau to polyphonic voices supported by a flawless rhythmic impulse, which contrasts with Debussy, whose among other things the beautiful tumultuous Jardins sous la pluie which is played with a large breath in the image of wind load until the light returns. © Qobuz / GG

On her first full-length Christmas album, pianist/vocalist Diana Krall delivers a smoky, sophisticated, and slightly melancholy album perfectly suited to accompany egg nog cocktails and romantic afterglow holiday affairs. Although there isn't anything unexpected on Christmas Songs -- Irving Berlin's "Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep" is as close to obscure as it gets -- Krall coos life into such standards as "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve," and "I'll Be Home for Christmas." It also doesn't hurt that she gains top-notch support from the Clayton-Hamilton Orchestra, whose urbane arrangements help bring to mind similar works by such iconic vocalists as Nat King Cole, June Christy, and Frank Sinatra. But it's not all deep sighs and bedroom eyes; on the contrary, Krall keeps things swinging with such uptempo numbers as the joyous "Jingle Bells," "Winter Wonderland," and the Blossom Dearie-inflected "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town." If you like your holiday albums cool and classy, Christmas Songs is a stocking stuffer that's sure to please.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Taylor Swift's cottage-core era is over. For the singer's 10th album, she's revived the best bits of her 1989 album—the chill of "Blank Space," "Style"—and re-thought them for the moment. It's synth pop that's not trying to be perfect (which isn't to say every move Swift makes isn't calculated): Sometimes the sounds are warped, even grotesque. The vocals on"Midnight Rain" are slowed and warped to a David Lynch-ian place. It's ironic that Maggie Rogers borrowed a touch of Swift's folksy side for her latest record, because Midnights often sounds like Rogers' electro-pop. You can hear it on bubbling "Karma" and  "Lavender Haze," which finds Swift feeling constrained by society's prudish expectations on celebrities—the constant questions about engagements, marriage, children. "All they keep asking me/ Is if I'm gonna be your bride," she seems to be saying to longtime boyfriend Joe Alwyn. "The only kinda girl they see/ Is a one-night or a wife." There are also shades of Lorde—another collaborator of Swift's producer Jack Antonoff—on  "Vigilante Shit," with its ice-cold beats. The song is supposedly a stiletto to the heart of Swift's  former manager—the one who sold the singer's master recordings out from under her. "I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends," she sings, seemingly having revealed that she gave a wife the evidence needed for a pricey divorce settlement. Twee "Snow on the Beach" features (barely, thanks to Antonoff's lasagna-thick vocal layers) Lana Del Rey  and a quick nod to a Jackson —"I'm all for you like Janet," name-checking the singer's 2001 hit—who sent Swift flowers in 2009 after Kanye West stole her moment at the VMAs. And while Swift keeps her loyalties close and her enmities closer, the one big surprise of Midnights is that she exposes a new villain: herself. "Did you hear my covert narcissism/ I disguise as altruism/ Like some kind of congressman?" she sings on the the album's best track "Anti-Hero," addressing years of public skepticism. "Hi/ I'm the problem/ It's me." ("This song really is a guided tour throughout all of the things I tend to hate about myself," Swift has said.) And then there's the charming closer "Mastermind," on which she confesses both to making a romantic meeting look accidental and reveals the origin story of her calculating ways: "No one wanted to play with me as a little kid/ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since/ To make them love me and make it seem effortless." Musically, "You're on Your Own, Kid" feels as light and innocent as an early Swift country song. Lyrically, it's as revealing as anything she's ever committed to tape: "I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this/ I hosted parties and starved my body … My friends from home don't know what to say/ I looked around in a blood-soaked gown/ And I saw something they can't take away/ 'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

With Raymonde taking a break to work on the second This Mortal Coil album, Fraser and Guthrie made up the Cocteaus for the first full-length follow-up to Treasure. Rather than trying for a full-band approach, Fraser and Guthrie instead created a much more simply beautiful effort, with a relaxed air to it. Rhythms are subtler, with bass and drum machine often totally eschewed in favor of Guthrie's delicate guitar filigrees and lush, produced textures. Fraser is, as always, in wonderfully fine voice; her words are quite indecipherable, but the feelings are no less strong for it. "Lazy Calm" starts things perfectly, as deep, heavily-treated guitar strums combine with a heavy flange and guest saxophone from Dif Juz member Richard Thomas. Other songs sparkle with a lovely vivaciousness. Far from being stereotypical arty music to sit around and be gloomy to, two pieces especially shine with a gentle energy: "Fluffy Tufts," with its many-layered ringing strings and Fraser's overdubbed vocals; and the joyful "Little Spacey," with a soft rhythm underlying more sheer electric loveliness. Guthrie adds heavy reverb and overdubbed lines to create the Cocteaus' wash on such songs as "Throughout the Dark Months of April and May" and "Feet Like Fins," the latter again featuring Thomas, this time on tablas. For all the sweet beauty of Victorialand, things end on a quietly dramatic note, but a dramatic one nonetheless. "The Thinner the Air" starts with treated piano and rather spooky guitar leads -- the mysterious soloing is especially wonderful -- while Fraser then sings with a slightly haunted feeling, concluding with slightly nervous wails. It's an unexpected but effective touch for this fine record.© Ned Raggett /TiVo

The musically similar follow-up to the commercial breakthrough of Over-Nite Sensation, Apostrophe (') became Frank Zappa's second gold and only Top Ten album with the help of the "doggy wee-wee" jokes of "Don't Eat the Yellow Snow," Zappa's first chart single (a longer, edited version that used portions of other songs on the LP). The first half of the album is full of nonsensical shaggy-dog story songs that segue into one another without seeming to finish themselves first; their dirty jokes are generally more subtle and veiled than the more notorious cuts on Over-Nite Sensation. The second half contains the instrumental title cut, featuring Jack Bruce on bass; "Uncle Remus," an update of Zappa's critique of racial discord on "Trouble Every Day"; and a return to the album's earlier silliness in "Stink-Foot." Apostrophe (') has the narrative feel of a concept album, but aside from its willful absurdity, the concept is difficult to decipher; even so, that doesn't detract from its entertainment value.© Steve Huey /TiVo

As much as jazz musicians love to do it, the Christmas album exercise can quickly turn stale. Especially when you opt for a repertoire essentially composed of hits like Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Oh Christmas Tree, Il est né le divin enfant, Petit Papa Noël, Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow, Silent Night and Jingle Bells. But here, Ibrahim Maalouf has managed to create an impeccable record that gives his trumpet an even better showcase than usual. The starting point of the project is a set of very personal values. "It's an album of 25 great Christmas standards and 3 new songs that I wrote to celebrate both my son's very first Christmas and my grandmother Odette's very last one last year. My memories of Christmas are full of wonderful moments and I wanted to record the album in a way that would capture the magic of those moments.“For this classical, touching effort, Maalouf brought in three friends: guitarist François Delporte, pianist Frank Woeste and choir director Sofi Jeannin, who has selected eight singers with angelic voices. The whole group met in two different recording locations: Armand Amar's Babel studios in Montreuil, where Ibrahim Maalouf worked on his first albums, and the Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre church, the oldest church in Paris, a few metres from Notre-Dame, where his father was sacristan in the 1960s; it was also where the trumpeter got engaged and married...Bolstered by all these strong symbols, First Noël moves forward with simplicity and humility, emphasising the melodies above all, without any kind of Hollywood arrangements. "After having recorded so many albums, I felt that the time had come to set down my version of these great Christmas classics, giving them a less childish, more musical dimension, and a more spiritual aspect as well: but at the same time preserving their necessary and subtle fragility as music for children, and as great classics known and sung worldwide.” The end result is a soothing, dreamlike, fraternal and universal journey. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz