Van Morrison grew up with Skiffle - yes, at 77 years of age that’s still possible! Skiffle is the precursor to pop music which allowed young musicians in England to learn the ropes of traditional American music, folk, jazz and blues in the 50’s and early 60’s. Skiffle bands played makeshift acoustic instruments, guitars, banjos and washboards, with big smiles and hair slicked back behind the ears. Although it was very popular at the time, the genre was soon swept away by the pop explosion (before the Beatles, John Lennon had his skiffle band, the Quarrymen), but it is remembered as a safe haven for musical learning, and a bygone golden age. More than 20 years ago, Van Morrison honoured skiffle on a live album with two of the genre’s heroes: Lonnie Donegan and Chris Barber (The Skiffle Sessions, live in Belfast). He has now returned to the studio and to the band for Moving On Skiffle, which is like an elixir of youth. The album’s 23 tracks are all covers of songs that belong to American folk and blues heritage. Van Morrison doesn’t claim to revolutionise anything here. Using cheerful, acoustic instruments, he celebrates the eternal youth of songs that will still be sung around campfires 50 years from now. Just as Dylan revisited Sinatra’s repertoire on Shadows In The Night and Fallen Angels in the mid-2010’s, Van Morrison flips through the musical album of his youth, bringing it back with a catchy simplicity and joy. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

To the thousands of questions raised about themselves, the Arctic Monkeys answer Whatever People Say I Am, I Am Not. Their success story, born in bars and on the Internet, is as huge as it is dazzling. Smashing the British sales record – over 360,000 albums sold in a week −, they receive this memorable accolade from the Times: Bigger than the Beatles! In Great Britain, ever since the Libertines have burnt out, the horizon had turned dull grey. All until this fluorescent-adolescent quartet from Sheffield. Led by the timid Alex Turner, the Monkeys concocted for this perfect first album thirteen frantic tracks bordering on genius, that the NME ranked 19th in its 500 Greatest albums of all time list. It featured everything that had been missing from the rock landscape. Incisive guitar riffs for Turner’s scruffy compositions (The View From The Afternoon, I Bet You Look Better On The Dancefloor, Dancing Shoes) and Matt Helders’ cheeky drums. Andy Nicholson on the bass for the last time. They play, hard and fast. The whole thing is overflowing with extensive lyrics about the daily life of the English working class. Shiny but not polished, youthful but well formed. Recorded in the country side, in the Chapel Studios in Lincolnshire, this opus draws from the Strokes’ nonchalance (Riot Van), Franz Ferdinand’s dancing energy (Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured) and the Libertines’ phlegm (Mardy Bum), while also drawing inspiration from their idols, the Jam, the Smiths, and Oasis, already putting down their very own trademarks for years to come. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

When he moseyed onto the scene in 2019, conquering the charts and mainstream conversation with his country-rap novelty "Old Town Road," Lil Nas X could have been relegated to a pop culture footnote or trivia night as a one-hit wonder. Two years, a very public coming-out, and another number one hit later, he not only remained part of the conversation, but became a driver of the discussion, evolving his sound, pushing cultural boundaries, and expanding his fan base as an irrepressible queer icon. That undeniable charm, defiance, and open heart is on full display on his official debut, the triumphant Montero. A breath of fresh air, the album is one of those instant classics, packed with as many catchy jams as introspective musings, bound together by the character Montero's own relatable perspective as both a hero and a villain, navigating newfound fame while processing his identity as a young, gay Black man in a traditionally intolerant genre. His overflow of emotions is set to a delightful blend of genres, veering from booming rap anthems such as "Industry Baby" with Jack Harlow, "Scoop" with Doja Cat, and "Dolla Sign Slime" with Megan Thee Stallion to surprisingly emotive gems like the touching "One of Me" with guest pianist Elton John, and the biographical, guitar-strummed "Tales of Dominica." These moments of vulnerability are the most welcome shock from an artist who is an expert at pushing buttons, flexing an unexpected artistry and honesty rarely heard in mainstream pop or hip-hop. Indeed, for listeners in search of the club bangers, those occupy less space than the heartfelt fare, but it's all for the better. On the confessional "Sun Goes Down," Lil Nas X reaches out to his younger self, detailing his struggles with sexuality, self-confidence, and suicidal thoughts, a bittersweet motivator that will no doubt connect with fans with similar struggles. The tender "Void," the explosive alt-rock "Life After Salem," and the dour duet with Miley Cyrus, "Am I Dreaming," tug at the same heartstrings, but it's the upbeat Outkast-goes-pop-punk blast "That's What I Want" that delivers on both emotion and energy. As Lil Nas X urgently cries, "I want someone to love me/I need someone who needs me/That's what I f*cking want!" over a bouncy beat and handclaps, his frustration and yearning are palpable. This mix of toughness and sensitivity makes for a compelling listening experience, one that inspires chest-puffing braggadocio as well as quiet sobbing in a dark corner. Montero delivers in droves, a powerful realization of self that boldly places sexuality, honesty, and vulnerability at the fore.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Blues-rock guitar wizard Joe Bonamassa can make a set of electric six-strings burn and wail, but like many such guitarists, he still requires focus for it to be truly special. Such intense focus is a hallmark of HAD TO CRY TODAY. While some guitarists squander notes, Bonamassa makes each one count whether he's engaging in country-flavored picking (the late, great Danny Gatton was clearly an influence), blistering rock-edged blues, or turbulent, inspired jamming. TODAY delivers on Bonamassa's previous promise in a big way. © TiVo

Throughout the '90s the smoky-voiced contralto Cassandra Wilson has shunned piano accompaniment in favor of close-miked acoustic guitars, evoking a moodily sensual atmosphere in which pop, blues, country and straight jazz vocals all merge together. It helps that Wilson has a distinctly Southern blues cast to her singing, a quality immediately apparent on "Run The Voodoo Down," the funky opener to TRAVELING MILES, her impeccably self-produced homage to Miles Davis.As is her wont, Wilson has chosen to mix it up on this tribute, setting lyrics to Davis compositions such as "Blue In Green," "Tutu" and "ESP" while reprising two favorite Miles covers, "Someday My Prince Will Come" and Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time." The singer also contributes some of her own welcome originals such as the poppish "Right Here, Right Now," which itself sounds like a tribute to Joni Mitchell, another mentor-spirit hovering over the proceedings. The set closes with a playful reprise of "Voodoo," featuring a sisterly duet with African singer Angelique Kidjo, who sounds right at home.© TiVo

When Peter Green issued Little Dreamer in 1980, it was the second straight year he had released an album after a nine-year gap. Fairport Convention drummer Dave Mattacks must have wondered what he had gotten himself into because the opener, "Loser Two Times," ais almost as close to disco as the Rolling Stones got with "Miss You." Green continues in a funky vein with "Mama Don't You Cry," as if shaking off the cobwebs and actually trying to pay attention to the current scene. He goes right back to his roots on the album's third tune with "Born Under a Bad Sign" and stays with blues derivatives the rest of the way. The album-ending title track sounds like a seven-minute version of the dreamy Green tune "Albatross," a hit for Fleetwood Mac in the '60s. Sounding more confident than on his comeback album, he seems more like the Greeny of old, although the move toward funk didn't really suit him.© Mark Allan /TiVo

A little over 13 years after its debut on Broadway, Lin-Manuel Miranda's Tony Award-winning debut musical, In the Heights, receives a Hollywood treatment with a mostly new cast. A story about the everyday struggles of turning dreams into reality set in the multicultural Washington Heights neighborhood of Manhattan, it was inspired by a then-teenaged Miranda working on a high school production of West Side Story. He realized there had been little else written for Latino actors in the intervening decades. Miranda went on to famously champion diversity in casting again with his Broadway smash Hamilton (2015). The Jon Chu-directed film adaptation of In the Heights stars Hamilton's Anthony Ramos as Usnavi, a role originated by Miranda. The composer/lyricist does make an appearance in the film as the Piragua Guy, a character who provides comic relief and one of the show's catchier melodic hooks ("Piragua"). Otherwise, only Olga Merediz returns from the original stage cast, reprising her Tony-nominated turn as Abuela Claudia, the beloved neighborhood matriarch. Her song "Paciencia y Fe" is a poignant highlight of a show loaded with lively Latin dance rhythms and big cast numbers. The defining voice of the show, however, is Ramos' good-natured Usnavi, who offers up a series of effortlessly witty, wordy rhyming raps throughout the musical -- "In the Heights," the lottery fantasy "96,000," the poetic "Alabanza," duet "Champagne" -- as he plots to leave his corner bodega business for beachfront property in his childhood Dominican Republic. Along with some finessed plot details, including the addition of a documentation-status theme, the film cuts about 20 minutes of music from the cast album, mostly from the second half. What remains still balances company numbers and more-intimate material, like Usnavi and Vanessa's "Champagne" (Melissa Barrera stars as Vanessa) and Benny and Nina's "When the Sun Goes Down" (they're played here by the graceful Corey Hawkins and Leslie Grace), though it favors the spectacle songs. Set outdoors during a heat wave and blackout, "Carnival de Barrio" is a seven-minute centerpiece that rotates soloists and celebrates the musical's rousing blend of hip-hop, Latin dance rhythms, and show tune tradition. The soundtrack closes with the pop-minded "Home All Summer" featuring Marc Anthony, its one new song.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

The heights referred to in the title of the Broadway musical In the Heights is Washington Heights, a neighborhood in Upper Manhattan adjacent to the George Washington Bridge largely occupied by working-class Hispanics, many of them from the Dominican Republic and other islands in the Caribbean. Lin-Manuel Miranda, who stars in the show and is also given a credit for conceiving it as well as writing the songs, clearly knows the neighborhood intimately. When, at one point, a character reminisces about the subway trains, the IRT 1 and 9, that serviced the area, his character, Usnavi, quickly points out that the 9 has been discontinued. Usnavi, the owner of a bodega (a small grocery) who dreams of returning to the Dominican Republic, is not only knowledgeable about local transportation. In the introductory song "In the Heights," as he introduces the many other characters in this ensemble piece, rapping over salsa music, he uses words such as "exacerbated" and at one point, speaking of the high temperature, notes, "It's gotten too darn hot like my man Cole Porter said." Usnavi is, in other words, a bit too well educated to be what he claims, and the mixture of closely observed street life with erudition is typical of the show's writing, just as Miranda's music, while infused with Latin and hip-hop elements, is also informed by contemporary show music writing. There's no doubt he's familiar with Stephen Sondheim as well as Jonathan Larson, whose Rent is a major influence, even if it's about an entirely different neighborhood of Manhattan. Like Rent, In the Heights follows the lives of a group of characters whose aspirations and experiences have something of a soap opera quality, though the intention is to provide a panoramic view of a bustling community. There is the sense of that neighborhood's falling apart: several of the characters want to leave, others are being forced out. (At one point, Usnavi predicts that in five years the whole city will consist of nothing but rich people and hipsters, a forecast people have been making for a century or so.) But while they're still on the hot streets, they sing and dance and interact with each other, and Miranda has captured their stories well. The large cast, also including Mandy Gonzalez, Karen Olivo, and Olga Merediz in principal roles, does well by the score on this double-CD cast album, which runs 89 minutes.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

Kenny Chesney's stardom snuck up quietly. He had a string of modest successes during the late '90s, but he never made crossover waves until 2002's No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problems, when his steady touring and steady shift toward adult pop paid off with his first number one album, but that was nothing compared to the stunning first-week sales of its successor, When the Sun Goes Down, which also debuted at number one to the very healthy sales of over 550,000. Chesney had clearly filled a void, one left by the diminished presence of Garth Brooks -- a singer who blurred the lines between '70s mainstream pop/rock and contemporary country, a singer who made adult-oriented music about everyday things. At one point Chesney was aligned with neo-traditionalist country singers, but by When the Sun Goes Down, he had left that far behind, using country as mere flavoring on an album whose heart and soul is firmly within the tradition of '70s singer/songwriters. Where Garth Brooks merely covered Billy Joel (and a latter-day tune at that), Chesney drops references to Joel, James Taylor, and Steve Miller, while covering Dave Loggins' "Please Come to Boston." So, it's not an entire surprise that he favors ballads, usually the anthemic type designed to fill out arenas, and when he does turn the tempo up, it's still laid-back, in the fashion of Jimmy Buffett, as on the appealing duet with Uncle Kracker on the title track. Chesney often refers to living in the Islands (the Caribbean Islands, that is) in his nice song-by-song liner notes and every one of the many pictures in the disc's booklet features him on an island, but this is hardly a tropical album -- it's a record for middle America, for soccer moms and sentimental NASCAR dads, for those who opted out of the corporate rat race in favor of a loving relationship, as the character in "The Woman With You" did. It's for a generation raised on rock but living on country, people who like to reminiscence but are perfectly happy in their domestic life. If this sounds condescending, it's not meant that way; it's an apt description of an album that captures a time, place, and mindset, the way Sgt. Pepper provided the soundtrack to the Summer of Love. Peppered with references to Abercrombie & Fitch, American Express, dogs named Bocephus, old frat brothers, and forgotten sorority sisters, all set to a canny blend of state-of-the-art country, '70s sensibility, and '80s production (check out muted delayed rhythm guitar on "I Go Back"), it's a thoroughly modern mature-pop album. Like Shania Twain's Come On Over or Up!, this is music that's meant to have universal appeal, but it's far subtler in its approach, not least because it's delivered not by a diva, but a humble guy with a likeable, friendly voice. It may not be country, but that doesn't matter; When the Sun Goes Down is winning, sturdy mainstream pop, and after hearing it, it's easy to see why so many listeners now take Chesney to heart -- he's writing the soundtrack to their lives.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

You’d be forgiven if you thought Selena Gomez & the Scene’s third album in three years, 2011's When the Sun Goes Down, might show signs of a dip in quality control due to cranking out albums so quickly. You’d be wrong, though, because When the Sun Goes Down is actually an improvement over 2010's Year Without Rain. Where that record tried to position Gomez as a more serious and adult artist with varying levels of success, here she’s back to mostly being a young and breezy, happy-go-lucky pop singer. With a couple exceptions, the songs are sassier, lighter, and more fun. Her vocals are more spirited, the arrangements less reliant on heavy synths, and overall, there’s a more playful feeling to the record that’s more in keeping with her first album. She bubbles her way through dancefloor-friendly tracks like “Bang Bang Bang” and “That’s More Like It,” smolders a little (on her duet with Pixie Lott “We Own the Night” and "Middle of Nowhere"), and comes on like a convincing disco diva on “Hit the Lights.” The only stumble is the overly earnest empowerment anthem “Who Says,” which comes off a little stiff and out of place. It’s a tiny speck of a flaw though; the rest is really solid and fun modern pop with sharp hooks and a couple surprises, namely the stomping jam “Whiplash,” which channels Goldfrapp’s electro glam and throws in a charmingly odd spoken word section that for some reason is done with a British-y accent. It adds some welcome weirdness to an otherwise straightforward record, and shows how easily and successfully she can slip into different personas and styles. Perhaps a bit too easily, as ultimately, Gomez has yet to stake out an identify all her own: a point driven home in the album’s booklet, which features Gomez in a series of images of her in different guises, from Ann-Margret-style sex kitten to 1930s film star. She seems to be acting out the songs, more than actually feeling the emotions she’s singing about. Which is perfectly fine for disposable pop albums, but if she wants to make a real impact, she’ll need to dig a little deeper or stake out her own territory. That’s for the future, though. For now, as long as she makes records as good and as much fun as When the Sun Goes Down, everything will be fine.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

Midnight Mover: The Bobby Womack Collection is a double-disc set offering 44 tracks from Womack's 1968-1976 stint with United Artists and its related labels. Early selections like "I'm a Midnight Mover," "I'm in Love," and "Broadway Walk" have Womack feeling his way with producer Chips Moman. After parting ways with Moman, Womack himself became one of the more skilled and inventive producers in the Muscle Shoals tradition. "That's the Way I Feel About 'Cha" and "I Can Understand It" both have plaintive melodies and are punctuated by Womack's guitar skills plus his ever-broadening vocals. Disc two covers the years 1973-1976, during which time he had become an even bigger star with albums that were sagacious ruminations on love and life. From an effortlessly revamped and rock-fueled "Nobody Wants You (When You're Down and Out) to his perfect cover of Sam Cooke's "That's Heaven to Me," Womack's interpretive skills were only matched by his rootsy yet polished productions. After the frisky "Check It Out," Womack seemed preoccupied with the darker side of love with a little religion on the side to confuse things. Tracks like "Jealous Love" and "Interlude #1/I Don't Know" have the message and meaning slipping through his fingers. Midnight Mover is a flawless anthology.© Jason Elias /TiVo

Polydor's Level Best is a thorough, successful overview of the smooth, jazzy British sophisti-pop outfit, containing all of their biggest hits and best material, including the sublime "Something About You." At 18 tracks, it may run a little long, but it still is as comprehensive a summary of Level 42's career as could be hoped.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo