Over nine albums, The National have grown wilder in their experimentation. But the Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cincinnati band proves on First Two Pages of Frankenstein that almost no one else does Midwest desolation this well—still. It's there in the plaintive but sweetly hopeful piano line that carries "Once Upon a Poolside" and underscores Matt Berninger's troubled lines: "I can't keep talking/ I can't stop shaking/ I can't keep track of everything I'm taking." (Bonus points for bringing in fellow Midwestern native Sufjan Stevens for ethereal backing vocals.) There's a spareness, too, in the excellent "Eucalyptus," which poses questions about who walks away with what when a relationship ends: ceiling fans, rainbow eucalyptus, ornaments ..."What about the undeveloped cameras?/ Maybe we should bury those ... What about the Cowboy Junkies?/ What about the Afghan Whigs?" And yet the song takes on an early-U2 level of drama with a build of moody, striking guitar and tumbling drums. "Tropic Morning News," meanwhile, surprises in a different way: Starting with a perfectly chilled Joy Division beat, the guitars spring to life and the bridge takes off and up. This is the song that is said to have saved the record, after Berninger was in a dry spell. It was, he has said, "the first time it ever felt like maybe things really had come to an end" for the band. But, with his wife Carin Besser's help on the words, he pulled through—a feeling that seems to be reflected in the lyrics: "I was so distracted then/ I didn't have it straight in my head/ I didn't have my face on yet, or the role, or the feel/ Of where I was going with it all ... There's nothing stopping me now/ From saying all the painful parts out loud." Much has been made of the band's collaboration with Taylor Swift, "The Alcott,” and for good reason. As a producer, National guitarist and songwriter Aaron Dessner knows how to pull a genuine maturity out of Swift. Here she holds her own against Berninger's deep masculinity and the beating heart of percussion. Unlike with other guests on ... Frankenstein, this is a proper duet, and a pretty perfect addition to the Swift oeuvre, as she delivers lines like "Shred my evening gown/ Read my sentence out loud/ Because I brought this curse on our house." Phoebe Bridgers, meanwhile, shows up on "This Isn't Helping" and "Your Mind Is Not Your Friend," but her harmonies are more like a spoonful of sugar atop Berninger's roughness, rather than an equal match.The record ends with “Send for Me” and Berninger promising to answer any SOS: "If you're ever sitting at the airport/ And you don't want to leave ... If you're ever at a glass-top table, selling your ideas/ To swivel-chair underlings who just don't get it … Send for me/ Whenever, where ever/ Send for me/ I'll come and get ya." In other words: They’re not done yet. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Joe's Garage was originally released in 1979 in two separate parts; Act I came first, followed by a two-record set containing Acts II & III. Joe's Garage is generally regarded as one of Zappa's finest post-'60s conceptual works, a sprawling, satirical rock opera about a totalitarian future in which music is outlawed to control the population. The narrative is long, winding, and occasionally loses focus; it was improvised in a weekend, some of it around previously existing songs, but Zappa manages to make most of it hang together. Acts II & III give off much the same feel, as Zappa relies heavily on what he termed "xenochrony" -- previously recorded guitar solos transferred onto new, rhythmically different backing tracks to produce random musical coincidences. Such an approach is guaranteed to produce some slow moments as well, but critics latched onto the work more for its conceptual substance. Joe's Garage satirizes social control mechanisms, consumerism, corporate abuses, gender politics, religion, and the rock & roll lifestyle; all these forces conspire against the title protagonist, an average young man who simply wants to play guitar and enjoy himself. Even though Zappa himself hated punk rock and even says so on the album, his ideas seemed to support punk's do-it-yourself challenge to the record industry and to social norms in general. Since this is 1979-era Zappa, there are liberal applications of his trademark scatological humor (the titles of "Catholic Girls," "Crew Slut," "Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?," and "Keep It Greasey" are self-explanatory). Still, in spite of its flaws, Joe's Garage has enough substance to make it one of Zappa's most important '70s works and overall political statements, even if it's not focused enough to rank with his earliest Mothers of Invention masterpieces.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Now 48 years old, Dave Grohl seems to have reached a turning point in his career. A decisive one for the future. After receiving a well-deserved Legion of Honour for playing the drums for Nirvana he recorded the first album of the Foo Fighters in October 1994, six months after Kurt Cobain committed suicide. More pop but as untamed as the music of the band that made him famous, this start didn’t fail to impress. Gradually however, album after album, this rock’n’roll drawing from punk slowly smoothed out the edges to approach often very commercial radio tunes. To the point of Grohl and his crew filling out stadiums after stadiums with a rather complacent original soundtrack… With Concrete And Gold, it is clear the Foo Fighters took the time to reflect on their evolution. In the media, their leader even pulled out a mouth-watering marketing tirade: “this album is a Motörhead version of Sgt Pepper!”. And it must be said, what happened within our ears was something not too dissimilar to this description. Especially because Paul McCartney himself is involved on one of the titles! Indeed the former Beatle plays the drums on Sunday Rain. Other unexpected guests were invited to this metal-pop orgy: Justin Timberlake on Make It Right, Shawn Stockman from Boyz II Men on Concrete And Gold, Inara George from The Bird And The Bee on Dirty Water, Alison Mosshart from The Kills on La Dee Da and The Sky Is a Neighborhood, as well as saxophonist Dave Koz on La Dee Da! Much like Sgt Pepper’s patchwork cover art, this ninth Foo Fighters album goes in every direction. An orgasmic eclecticism carried by the traditional downpour of guitars, but also a more refined sense of pop melody than usual. Some songs are even testosterone-free to make way for rather delicious psychedelic illuminations… Mission accomplished for Dave Grohl in terms of ability to question and renew himself. © MD/Qobuz

Portugal. The Man found the opportunity to work with Brian "Danger Mouse" Burton so important that they scrapped two weeks of recording -- and eight of ten new songs -- in order to start fresh. Changing studio locations from El Paso to Danger Mouse's headquarters in L.A., the collaboration results in the band's most accessible and "mainstream" recording to date. The punchy, rhythm-driven elements in Danger Mouse's production create an elastic tension when contrasted with the band's loopy, hooky, guitar-centric, psych core. He doesn't change their sound, but brightens it, adding textural layers, to make it more dynamic and punchy. Set-opener "Plastic Soldiers" reveals that John Gourley's songwriting, with its wonderfully idiosyncratic world view, remains loaded with signifiers from rock's rich past. Strummed acoustic guitar and synth offer a dreamy intro. A little more than a minute later, the snare and handclaps enter, as do an all but hidden squiggly synth, and strings; the tempo picks up and the groove contrasts sharply with the tune's lyrics. "Creep in a T-Shirt," with its treated vocals, piano, whompy electronic keyboards, and synth horns, offers the trace elements of R&B while never leaving the psych behind. "Purple Yellow Red and Blue" is fingerpopping time -- it's almost funky with a popping bassline, low-end breakbeats, almost shimmering acoustic guitars, chorus-style vocals, a chugging B-3, and piano -- while "Hip Hop Kids" (one of the two songs they kept and re-recorded) isn't, its use of the genre's tight, skittering rhythm, which drives a sprawling meld of distorted electric guitars and washed-out keyboards, is an example of the expansive elements that Danger Mouse brings to the rockist bent in P.TM's aesthetic. The album's hinge track, "Atomic Man," shows the other side: a driving rocker with a near chanted backing chorus and fuzzed-out guitars is brightened considerably with a meaty rim shot snare. Though album-closer "Smile" may be the set's least commercial track, it may also be the finest moment on the entire record. In just under five minutes it combines languid balladry, Baroque pop, a rhythm collision, screaming guitars, and strings. Evil Friends offers ample evidence that the match between Portugal. The Man and Burton expanded the horizons of both parties and will likely heighten the band's profile considerably.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

A band is like a couple, the secret to a long-lasting relationship is to how to reserve time for yourself. Such is the case with American band The National who have been together for 20 years. Here, their singer, Matt Berninger, has undergone his first project outside the band, but he is not alone. Tens of musicians have participated in Serpentine Prison including Gail Ann Dorsey (Bowie’s loyal former bassist among others), Mickey Raphael (Willie Nelson’s lucky harmonicist), Andrew Bird, as well as even three members of The National. The album is produced by the legendary Booker T. Jones, who also contributes on the keys. This star-studded line-up have created a modest work in contrast to the blockbuster album you might expect. Less rock-oriented than with The National, Berninger toes the line between acoustic and the genre the Americans and Brits would refer to as “singer-songwriter”, a strain of folk and country where the lyrics are as important as the music itself. With its American style, the album sounds like the soundtrack to a night-time road trip with moments of ecstasy, reverie and even weariness. With his deep vocals and elegantly minimalistic accompaniments (piano, guitars, light brass sections), Matt Berninger confidently blends traces of crooners like Nick Cave and Leonard Cohen. Pleasantly produced, Serpentine Prison plunges the listener into the delights of a dreamy autumn scene. A trip into the depths America that only music can make reachable. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

In a few short years, Atlanta has made itself the epicentre of world rap. In the seedbed of OutKast, Young Jeezy and Gucci Mane, a new generation of rappers and producers in the Georgia state capital have re-written the rules of the genre, given life to original trap music and conquered the charts. Born in the early 1990s, Quavo, Offset and Takeoff, who formed Migos in 2009, cut clownish figures when they started out. Propelled to international stardom almost by accident as a result of an ultra-viral single, Versace, they can now boast of having invented a new style of rapping, what they call their triplet flow, which has been making waves. With this discovery and their propensity for throwing out one anthem after another (the phenomenal Bad And Boujee, with Lil Uzi Vert, which broke all previous records, and the very competent T-Shirt), Migos have made a much-hyped return with their second studio album. Thanks to a five-star cast (Gucci Mane, 2 Chainz, Travis Scott and DJ Khaled are all on hand) and a density that surpasses anything the trio had achieved on their previous mixtapes (or indeed on their 2015 album, Yung Rich Nation), Culture sets itself apart from the vast competition through the inventiveness of the three rappers who constantly conceive vocabularies and twist new slang, and by the audacity of the hippest beatmakers in the American South, who bend over backwards to meet their requirements. A major milestone. © DB/Qobuz

After Pioughd's semi-misfire and Rough Trade's subsequent collapse, the Surfers were in a surprising position. Not only were they courted and signed to Capitol thanks to the Nirvana-led alternative explosion, they also got high-profile arranger and Led Zeppelin legend John Paul Jones to produce the new album. When Saloon surfaced in early 1993, some accused the band of basically cloning Haynes' memorable collaboration with Ministry, "Jesus Built My Hot Rod," for the entire album. It's true that "Some Dispute Over T-Shirt Sales," simply takes the lyrics from that number and grafts it onto a quick rip from the band, but Saloon is far from a clone of Ministry or anything else. More energetic than the straggling Pioughd and benefiting from Jones' brilliant ear and tight, crisp arrangements, Saloon starts with the fierce "Who Was In My Room Last Night?"; from there, the Surfers tear through hilarious and strong numbers. Creating radio-friendly unit shifters was clearly the last thing on the band's mind, as numbers like "The Annoying Song," with Haynes sounding like what a radar dish would do if it could sing, and the wittily solemn acoustic ditty "The Ballad of Naked Man" demonstrate. The Surfers' taste for rude grostequerie surfaces throughout -- the foul "Chewin' George Lucas' Chocolate," the series of vomit sounds that conclude the record after "Clean It Up"'s heavy trudge and the extremely disturbing artwork are just a few examples. Combined with numerous examples of Surfer-mania at its finest -- the dipsomaniacal rager "Alcohol," the electric country hoedown "You Don't Know Me" and more -- and Saloon is that rarest of records, a major-label debut that surpasses the indie release preceding it.© Ned Raggett /TiVo

A return to the roots for the Vaccines? Looks like it. Following their English Graffiti (2015) was battered by critics, the Londoners wanted to go back to their first love. The love that established them as the saviours of English rock in 2011 with What Did You Except From The Vaccines and led them to open for the Arctic Monkeys. Chirping punk and gritty guitars, mad drums and phlegmatic singing. “We had lost part of what we were and why we were where we were”, reflected Justin Young, presenting this opus. Have they found in Combat Sports what they had lost along the way? Particularly since their drummer Peter Robertson has left. Fans of the first album will feel left out, same goes for Come Of Age ones… Their rock perfectly polished for the American radio and the pop 80s keyboards will however please Franz Ferdinand’s enthusiasts, for whom they are the opening act in their 2018 tour. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

Over nine albums, The National have grown wilder in their experimentation. But the Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cincinnati band proves on First Two Pages of Frankenstein that almost no one else does Midwest desolation this well—still. It's there in the plaintive but sweetly hopeful piano line that carries "Once Upon a Poolside" and underscores Matt Berninger's troubled lines: "I can't keep talking/ I can't stop shaking/ I can't keep track of everything I'm taking." (Bonus points for bringing in fellow Midwestern native Sufjan Stevens for ethereal backing vocals.) There's a spareness, too, in the excellent "Eucalyptus," which poses questions about who walks away with what when a relationship ends: ceiling fans, rainbow eucalyptus, ornaments ..."What about the undeveloped cameras?/ Maybe we should bury those ... What about the Cowboy Junkies?/ What about the Afghan Whigs?" And yet the song takes on an early-U2 level of drama with a build of moody, striking guitar and tumbling drums. "Tropic Morning News," meanwhile, surprises in a different way: Starting with a perfectly chilled Joy Division beat, the guitars spring to life and the bridge takes off and up. This is the song that is said to have saved the record, after Berninger was in a dry spell. It was, he has said, "the first time it ever felt like maybe things really had come to an end" for the band. But, with his wife Carin Besser's help on the words, he pulled through—a feeling that seems to be reflected in the lyrics: "I was so distracted then/ I didn't have it straight in my head/ I didn't have my face on yet, or the role, or the feel/ Of where I was going with it all ... There's nothing stopping me now/ From saying all the painful parts out loud." Much has been made of the band's collaboration with Taylor Swift, "The Alcott,” and for good reason. As a producer, National guitarist and songwriter Aaron Dessner knows how to pull a genuine maturity out of Swift. Here she holds her own against Berninger's deep masculinity and the beating heart of percussion. Unlike with other guests on ... Frankenstein, this is a proper duet, and a pretty perfect addition to the Swift oeuvre, as she delivers lines like "Shred my evening gown/ Read my sentence out loud/ Because I brought this curse on our house." Phoebe Bridgers, meanwhile, shows up on "This Isn't Helping" and "Your Mind Is Not Your Friend," but her harmonies are more like a spoonful of sugar atop Berninger's roughness, rather than an equal match.The record ends with “Send for Me” and Berninger promising to answer any SOS: "If you're ever sitting at the airport/ And you don't want to leave ... If you're ever at a glass-top table, selling your ideas/ To swivel-chair underlings who just don't get it … Send for me/ Whenever, where ever/ Send for me/ I'll come and get ya." In other words: They’re not done yet. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

A band is like a couple, the secret to a long-lasting relationship is to how to reserve time for yourself. Such is the case with American band The National who have been together for 20 years. Here, their singer, Matt Berninger, has undergone his first project outside the band, but he is not alone. Tens of musicians have participated in Serpentine Prison including Gail Ann Dorsey (Bowie’s loyal former bassist among others), Mickey Raphael (Willie Nelson’s lucky harmonicist), Andrew Bird, as well as even three members of The National. The album is produced by the legendary Booker T. Jones, who also contributes on the keys. This star-studded line-up have created a modest work in contrast to the blockbuster album you might expect. Less rock-oriented than with The National, Berninger toes the line between acoustic and the genre the Americans and Brits would refer to as “singer-songwriter”, a strain of folk and country where the lyrics are as important as the music itself. With its American style, the album sounds like the soundtrack to a night-time road trip with moments of ecstasy, reverie and even weariness. With his deep vocals and elegantly minimalistic accompaniments (piano, guitars, light brass sections), Matt Berninger confidently blends traces of crooners like Nick Cave and Leonard Cohen. Pleasantly produced, Serpentine Prison plunges the listener into the delights of a dreamy autumn scene. A trip into the depths America that only music can make reachable. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

Technology is the third album from British rockers Don Broco and follows their 2015 release Automatic. Their debut release for SharpTone Records, the album sees the group bringing their live sound into the studio for a set of heavy, emotional rock numbers. © Rich Wilson /TiVo

Upon leaving the Red Hot Chili Peppers in 1992, guitarist John Frusciante delved into home recording, eventually completing a 12-track album titled Niandra Lades that bore the influence of '60s oddballs like Syd Barrett and Captain Beefheart. Niandra Lades languished on the shelf for a while until it was paired with another 12-track collection of Frusciante's home-taping efforts; this one, titled Usually Just a T-Shirt, concentrated on pleasant psychedelic instrumentals with plenty of backward-guitar effects. While some might find the jump from bizarre vocal numbers to atmospheric instrumentals (and the resultant shift in mood) a bit jarring, the two halves do share certain characteristics. Frusciante's singing voice has a fragile, wispy quality that sits well next to the often delicate second half, and the sparse arrangements of the first half help set the stage for the gossamer guitar work later on. Because the whole project has a definite stream-of-consciousness feel, it does fall prey to underdeveloped ideas at times, but overall, Niandra Lades and Usually Just a T-Shirt is an intriguing and unexpected departure from Frusciante's work with the Chili Peppers.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Joe's Garage was originally released in 1979 in two separate parts; Act I came first, followed by a two-record set containing Acts II & III. Joe's Garage is generally regarded as one of Zappa's finest post-'60s conceptual works, a sprawling, satirical rock opera about a totalitarian future in which music is outlawed to control the population. The narrative is long, winding, and occasionally loses focus; it was improvised in a weekend, some of it around previously existing songs, but Zappa manages to make most of it hang together. Acts II & III give off much the same feel, as Zappa relies heavily on what he termed "xenochrony" -- previously recorded guitar solos transferred onto new, rhythmically different backing tracks to produce random musical coincidences. Such an approach is guaranteed to produce some slow moments as well, but critics latched onto the work more for its conceptual substance. Joe's Garage satirizes social control mechanisms, consumerism, corporate abuses, gender politics, religion, and the rock & roll lifestyle; all these forces conspire against the title protagonist, an average young man who simply wants to play guitar and enjoy himself. Even though Zappa himself hated punk rock and even says so on the album, his ideas seemed to support punk's do-it-yourself challenge to the record industry and to social norms in general. Since this is 1979-era Zappa, there are liberal applications of his trademark scatological humor (the titles of "Catholic Girls," "Crew Slut," "Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?," and "Keep It Greasey" are self-explanatory). Still, in spite of its flaws, Joe's Garage has enough substance to make it one of Zappa's most important '70s works and overall political statements, even if it's not focused enough to rank with his earliest Mothers of Invention masterpieces. © Steve Huey /TiVo

Like precious few bands from the '70s whose best work is mummified daily thanks to classic rock radio, ZZ Top just keeps rolling on into the next decade. There's much to love here, from the downright nasty stomp of "Fuzzbox Voodoo," the powerhouse slow blues of "Cover Your Rig," the bass-pumping looniness of "Girl in a T-Shirt," to the slow grind of "Breakaway." While Billy Gibbon's guitar tones on this album are highly reminiscent of Tres Hombres (an early high-water mark for the band), the high production sheen from their '80s albums remains intact. But Gibbons hasn't played with this much over-the-top abandon since their pre-beard 'n' babes days, and that's what separates this album from the three that came before it.© Cub Koda /TiVo

White T-Shirt is the debut 2007 release from Australian model turned singer Micky Green. The album is a rare gem, drifting playfully along through all 14 tracks. There are no songs to skip here; this is perfect soft pop meant to be played through to its flawless end…although "Oh!" and "Shoulda" will be listened to over and over again.© Celeste Rhoads /TiVo

With her resonantly cherubic croon and wiry stage presence, singer Martina Sorbara was, as always, the devilishly stylish focal point of Dragonette. It's an image she cogently re-examines on 2022's Twennies, her triumphant first album as the sole member of the Juno Award-winning pop group she co-founded with multi-instrumentalist and ex-husband Dan Kurtz in 2005. The album follows 2016's Royal Blues, which was itself recorded in the wake of the end of Sorbara's marriage and creative partnership with Kurtz. Sorbara began to chart her own creative course with Dragonette, a period that also found her giving birth to a son with her partner, chef Cory Vitiello. All of these changes inform Twennies, an album that feels like a more introspective update of the group's pulsing, synthy pop, albeit one that still retains all of the clubby attitude that marked the best of Dragonette's previous albums. Helping Sorbara bring this vibrant balance to life is producer Dan Farber, known for his own genre-crossing EDM albums and hip-hop productions with Dizzee Rascal and Lizzo. Dragonette has always blurred the lines between dance music and indie pop, and Twennies is no exception. Cuts like "Seasick" and "Hysteria" are shimmering anthems built around dusky, late-afternoon bass grooves and sun-dappled guitar and keyboard lines. Yet more sugar rush-inducing is the kinetic "New Suit," in which Sorbara proclaims her newfound independence and emotional maturity with the exuberant "Change coming, feel me in my brand new suit." That the song smartly evokes the swaggering leather and pinstripe dance sound of early-'90s Madonna feels intentional. Also evocative is the moody, Day-Glo synth atmosphere of the Giorgio Moroder-esque title track, in which she ruminates on her past as an electro-clash "it girl" of the 2010s, singing "All that attention in the end is a distortion." With Twennies, Sorbara embraces soulful clarity, not to mention her knack for memorable pop grooves that comes with age and experience. It's a sound you can definitely feel.© Matt Collar /TiVo