“It’s a new decade, I’m in a whole new arena.” Nas knows that times have changed. But he’s at it again: his ability to depict his world and feelings makes him a rapper that is anything but irrelevant, even at 50 years old. His series of collaborations with the producer Hit-Boy continues with Magic 3, an album characterized by its writer’s ability to present himself as a role model, now and forever, and by his incomparable way of avoiding an ego trip. Magic 3 differs from its predecessors. Hit-Boy changes his production paradigm, still based on sampling, yes, but with samples that he modifies only slightly and loops with respect. He can then compose with the original rhythmics, taking away some of the heaviness in order to lean into the variety in the beats. And then, sometimes, just because he feels like it, and also because it’s important to make your voice heard, hip hop reclaims its musical rights, warlike, for example on the track “I Love This Feeling.” The two heavyweights manage, yet again, to draw in the listener thanks to their technique and expertise.  © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

Let's get the clichéd bad joke out of the way to begin with: at the time Michael Jackson released Invincible in the fall of 2001, he hardly seemed "invincible" -- it was more wishful thinking than anything else, since he hadn't really had a genuine hit in ten years, and even that paled in comparison to his total domination of the '80s. That lack of commercial success, combined with a fading reputation as a trailblazer, a truly ugly public scandal, and swirling rumors about his diminishing finances, along with a huge wait between albums (by teaming his Dangerous follow-up with a hits collection, it wound up being overlooked, despite a gaudy publicity push), resulted in Jackson being deep down in the hole, needing to surge back out with a record that not only proved his talents, but his staying power. So, faced with a make-or-break record, what did Jackson do to save his career? What he did since Dangerous, take a turn toward the street and craft a hard-driving, hard-polished urban soul album, heavy on the dance numbers and sweetened by lugubrious ballads. It's a proven formula for commercial success, but it not only didn't push his music forward, it made his reach seem rather timid when compared to the wildly rich, all-encompassing musical vision of Thriller and Bad. Here, he's reined in by a desire to prove himself, so he keeps his focus sharp and narrow, essentially creating a sparkly, post-hip-hop update of Off the Wall. It's not as good as that sounds, because the infectious joy and layered craft of that masterpiece have been replaced with a dogged, near-maniacal desire to craft something hip enough for the clubs and melodic enough for mainstream radio, thereby confirming his self-proclaimed status as the King of Pop (a really terrible title, btw). Since he was exceptionally talented and smart enough to surround himself with first-rate collaborators, this does pay off on occasion, even when it feels a little too calculated or when it feels a little padded. Ultimately, the record runs too long, losing steam halfway through, as it turns to a series of rants about "Privacy" or a deadly stretch of uncomfortably treacly, sub-"Man in the Mirror" songs about "The Lost Children," or when he says that he can't change the world by himself on "Cry." Fortunately, Jackson was clever enough to front-load this record, loading the first seven songs with really good, edgy dance numbers -- even the opening "Unbreakable" isn't sunk by the creepy resurrection of Biggie Smalls -- and lovely ballads, highlighted by "Break of Dawn" and "Butterflies" with its Bacharach-styled horns. Even if these are too self-conscious and a little mechanical (which they are), they still have a spark and sound better than anything Jackson had done since Dangerous. That's not enough to make Invincible the comeback Jackson needed -- he really would have had to have an album that sounded free instead of constrained for that to work -- but it does offer a reminder that he could really craft good pop. If only he had been fueled, not constrained, by his obsessions, this could have been really interesting.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Beyoncé Knowles was always presented as the star of Destiny's Child -- which probably shouldn't be a big surprise since her father managed the group. So it was a natural step for her to step into the diva spotlight with a solo album in 2003, particularly since it followed on the heels of her co-starring role in Mike Myers' 2002 comedy hit, Austin Powers in Goldmember. Still, a singer takes a risk when going solo, as there's no guarantee that her/his star will still shine as bright when there's nobody to reflect upon. Plus, Survivor often sounded labored, as Knowles struggled to sound real. The Knowles clan -- Beyoncé and her father Mathew, that is (regrettably, Harry Knowles of "Ain't It Cool" is no relation) -- were apparently aware of these two pitfalls since they pull off a nifty trick of making her debut album, Dangerously in Love, appeal to a broad audience while making it sound relatively easy. Sometimes that ease can translate into carelessness (at least with regard to the final stretch of the album), with a prolonged sequence of ballads that get stuck in their own treacle, capped off by the unbearably mawkish closer, "Gift from Virgo," where she wishes her unborn child and her husband to be like her daddy. (Mind you, she's not pregnant or married, she's just planning ahead, although she gets tripped up in her wishes since there's "no one else like my daddy.") Although these are a little formless -- and perhaps would have been more digestible if spread throughout the record -- they are impeccably produced and showcase Knowles' new relaxed and smooth delivery, which is a most welcome development after the overworked Survivor. Knowles doesn't save this voice just for the ballads -- she sounds assured and sexy on the dance numbers, particularly when she has a male counterpart, as on the deliriously catchy "Crazy in Love" with her man Jay-Z or on "Baby Boy" with 2003's dancehall superstar, Sean Paul. These are the moments when Dangerously in Love not only works, but sounds like Knowles has fulfilled her potential and risen to the top of the pack of contemporary R&B divas. It's just too bad that momentum is not sustained throughout the rest of the record. About halfway through, around the astrological ode "Signs" with Missy Elliott, it starts crawling through its ballads and, while listenable, it's not as exciting as the first part of the record. Still, the first half is good enough to make Dangerously in Love one of the best mainstream urban R&B records released in 2003, and makes a strong case that Knowles might be better off fulfilling this destiny instead of reuniting with Destiny.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

If there is one quality in Ibrahim Maalouf which can’t be denied, it is his feeling for large-scale spectacles. He flirts cheerfully with a variety of genres and styles, pushing his music beyond the borders of chanson, pop, hip-hop, rock, jazz and world music in one great unifying gesture. Each of the trumpeter’s projects showcase the ever-excessive, exuberant richness of his universe. This new ‘blockbuster’ of a release is probably the pinnacle of his style, and brings together renowned producers like Henry Was, Nutone and Tony Romera, alongside an impressive array of prestigious vocalists spanning the entire spectrum of contemporary popular music.The album creates a luxuriant, shimmering atmosphere through its epic production, using artists as diverse as Flavia Coelho, Alemeda, De la Soul, -M-, Tank and the Bangas, Dear Silas, DSmoke, Gregory Porter and Sharon Stone. It shifts cheerfully between moods, while resisting all the typical temptations of fusion music, which often entails stylistic clashes. In this tsunami of sound, Maalouf’s lyrical and elegant trumpet uncoils its refined melismas, conjuring a sound enriched by his oriental heritage, and adding an intimate colour to this hybrid, ultra contemporary performance. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

IIII is the fourth album from German DJ and producer Robin Schultz and follows 2017 Uncovered. The album, which includes the single "All We Got," sees the producer delivering a blast of anthemic house-tinged pop.© Rich Wilson /TiVo

With the corporate rock cognoscenti frothing at the mouth to sign the next Nirvana, in 1991, a seemingly nerdy band from New York by the name of Helmet were about to set the world on fire -- at least on paper. Seemingly overnight, the Amphetamine Reptile faves had a fat check in their pockets and an astounding major-label debut by the name of Meantime. Eschewing Cobain's neo-punk power pop instincts, Helmet opted instead for a more a minimalist approach, whereby rhythmic tension over 4/4 melodies reigned supreme. Now poised to step into their role as future darlings of a sound that can only be described as bludgeoning agro-punk atonal rock, the band was propelled by a massive hype campaign and heralded as East Coast tastemakers du jour. But for all its accolades (mostly well deserved), Meantime's commercial success sadly fell short of expectation, and, by '94, Helmet was giving it another try with Betty -- its second effort for Interscope. Label pressure notwithstanding, the album had a lot more riding on it than even perhaps Hamilton was willing to admit. Lacking some of the tightly focused ferocity of their previous release, Betty appears to be an almost too well thought out affair, and, ultimately, its songs miss out on some of the discreet melodic accents which had served to underpin even the most bludgeoning noise-fests on Meantime. Songs like "Wilma's Rainbow," "Biscuits for Smut," and especially "Milquetoast" have their moments, but don't quite live up to expectations. And although Helmet's tuned down, stop-go-stop dynamic (originally pioneered by New Yorkers Prong) would go on to influence hundreds of up-and-coming acts, their complete lack of image or star quality (a key ingredient to Cobain's magnetism, as much as he himself despised it) would play a major role in eventually doing them in. Betty initiated a commercial spiral for the quartet that not even the return-to-form and progress displayed by 1997's massive sounding Aftertaste could reverse.© John Franck & Ed Rivadavia /TiVo

2020's King's Disease and its 2021 sequel King's Disease II represented a return to form for New York rap legend Nas, teaming with Hit-Boy for a steady drip of excellently crafted new material that took inspiration from early-'90s hip-hop classics but pushed beyond mere nostalgia. Both albums were received with more fan enthusiasm and critical regard than much of Nas' 2010s output. The nine-track album Magic is cut from a similar cloth as the King's Disease installments that preceded it, but works as more of a stopgap release to tide over listeners as King's Disease III is being finalized. Hit-Boy's thick, straightforward, and somewhat retro-stylized production again offers as much of a voice here as Nas' fluid rhyming and wizened lyricism. Summery beats and glitched-out soul samples make tracks like "Ugly" and "Hollywood Gangsta," and the huge fun of "Wave Gods" finds A$AP Rocky dropping in for a guest verse while DJ Premier scratches in some familiar hooks from the archives of golden-era rap.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

Kruder & Dorfmeister's Conversions: A K&D Selection is the pair's first full-length DJ album, establishing their mastery of downtempo trip-hop mixes while sprinkling some organic, grooving drum'n'bass and techno for good measure.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Robert Wyatt has been quoted as declaring that this record was "a conscious attempt to make un-misusable music," i.e., music that couldn't be appropriated by the right or broadcast on Voice of America. VOA doesn't broadcast uncommercial music such as this in any case, but Wyatt did succeed in stating some of his political concerns -- imperialism, the carnage in East Timor, the flaws of rigid political ideology -- in an understated manner. He went back to writing his own material for this album, after having focused on eclectic "covers" in the early '80s, with fair success. It's perhaps an even moodier outing than usual for Wyatt, his melancholia amplified by the foggy, spooky keyboards. It was reissued on CD in 1990 as half of Compilation, which also includes the entirety of Nothing Can Stop Us. Somewhat confusingly, it was also reissued on CD as half of Mid-Eighties, an entirely different Gramavision release that adds eight tracks from assorted EPs, singles, and compilations of the time. © Richie Unterberger /TiVo

Five years after the release of 1989's pop-oriented Strange Angels, Laurie Anderson returned with Bright Red, a Brian Eno-produced excursion into much darker territory. Strange Angels and its predecessor, 1984's Mister Heartbreak, introduced a new level of melodic and rhythmic sophistication into the spare electronics of Anderson's early work, but Bright Red largely dispenses with that; instead, Eno provides a sound closer to his trademark ambient music (though it's still more melodically and rhythmically varied than, say, Ambient 1: Music for Airports) and Anderson largely abandons singing for her earlier, more conversational spoken-word style. Thematically, the album is filled with images of disconnection, miscommunication, and fear, with the sly wit and deadpan humor of her early days almost entirely absent. The result is an album that's more to be admired than enjoyed, since (apparently by design) it's nearly impossible to make any sort of emotional connection with this music. Gossip hounds will enjoy combing "In Our Sleep," a duet with then-boyfriend Lou Reed, for hints about their relationship.© Stewart Mason /TiVo

Sounding like a post-alternative version of the Jackson 5 -- complete with effervescent harmonies, sunny melodies, rolling hip-hop beats, and dense, layered productions -- Hanson is positively bubbling energy throughout its surprisingly infectious and melodic debut, Middle of Nowhere. It's hard not to hear the lead single, "MMMBop," or the similary infectious "Where's the Love" and not get caught up in the joy of making music. Although the boys co-wrote nine of the 13 songs with professional writers, and the producers do offer a distinctive stamp, the personalities that shine through are Hanson's -- youthful, exuberant, and positively joyous. A few of the songs may run on a bit too long, and there are a couple of borrowed melodies and silly lyrics, but Middle of Nowhere is a delight.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo