Flesh + Blood suggested that Roxy Music were at the end of the line, but they regrouped and recorded the lovely Avalon, one of their finest albums. Certainly, the lush, elegant soundscapes of Avalon are far removed from the edgy avant-pop of their early records, yet it represents another landmark in their career. With its stylish, romantic washes of synthesizers and Bryan Ferry's elegant, seductive croon, Avalon simultaneously functioned as sophisticated make-out music for yuppies and as the maturation of synth pop. Ferry was never this romantic or seductive, either with Roxy or as a solo artist, and Avalon shimmers with elegance in both its music and its lyrics. "More Than This," "Take a Chance with Me," "While My Heart Is Still Beating," and the title track are immaculately crafted and subtle songs, where the shifting synthesizers and murmured vocals gradually reveal the melodies. It's a rich, textured album and a graceful way to end the band's career.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

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The Knack attempted to update the Beatles sound for the new wave era on their debut -- a good idea that was well executed, but critics cried "foul" when millions sold after Capitol's pre-release hype (it went gold in 13 days and eventually sold five million copies, making it one of the most successful debuts in history). Get the Knack is at once sleazy, sexist, hook-filled, and endlessly catchy -- above all, it's a guilty pleasure and an exercise in simple fun. When is power pop legitimate anyway? Includes the unforgettable hits "My Sharona" and "Good Girls Don't."© Chris Woodstra /TiVo

When a clutch of unfinished lyrics written during Bob Dylan's 1967 sojourn at Big Pink in Woodstock, New York was discovered in 2013, there were really only two choices left for his publisher: either they could be collected as text or set to music. Once the decision to turn these words into songs was made, there was really only one logical choice to direct the project: T-Bone Burnett, the master of impressionistic Americana. He had played with Dylan during the Rolling Thunder Revue of 1975 and 1976 -- a tour that happened to occur in the wake of the first official release of The Basement Tapes -- but more importantly, his 2002 work on the Grammy-winning O Brother Where Art Thou? soundtrack established him as deft modernizer of classic American folk and country, skills that were needed for an album that wound up called Lost on the River. Burnett decided to assemble a loose-knit band of Americana superstars to write the music and play as a band. That's how Burnett's old pal Elvis Costello, Jim James of My Morning Jacket, Taylor Goldsmith of Dawes, Marcus Mumford of Mumford & Sons, and Rhiannon Giddens of the Carolina Chocolate Drops became a band called the New Basement Tapes (the name seems more of a formality than an actual moniker), and if Burnett's intent was to approximate the communal spirit Dylan had with the Band at Big Pink, the execution was much different. The New Basement Tapes recorded Lost on the River in a real studio fully aware there was an audience awaiting their output, an attitude that's the polar opposite of the ramshackle joshing around of the original Basement Tapes. Thankfully, nobody involved with Lost on the River contrives to replicate either the sound or feel of the 1967 sessions, even if the artists consciously pick up the strands of country, folk, and soul dangling on the originals. Wisely, the songwriters steer their given lyrics toward their own wheelhouses, which means this contains a little of the woolliness of a collective but Burnett sands off the rough edges, tying this all together. Certainly, some musicians make their presence known more than others -- there's a slow, soulful ease to James' four contributions that stand in nice contrast to Costello's canny bluster ("Married to My Hack" would've fit onto any EC album featuring Marc Ribot) -- but the best work might come from Goldsmith, who strikes a delicate, beguiling balance between his own idiosyncrasies and the Americana currents that flow out of The Basement Tapes. Then again, the whole project is rather impressive: Burnett and the New Basement Tapes remain faithful to the spirit of The Basement Tapes yet take enough liberties to achieve their own identity, which is a difficult trick to achieve.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

This disc offers 22 tracks from the man once known as the Ehtiopian James Brown. Like the others in the series, the music here is funk-tinged with Armenian overtones. Like most of the other volumes, this one is a stone blast all the way through. Eshete was a soul singer in the classic tradition. He didn't so much sing to his audience as seduce it, working himself and his fans into a sweat-soaked frenzy. Fans of the series might remember this man from Volume 8. If you liked the sound of that, give this a try. If you haven't been hipped to this series yet, there are worse places to start. This disc is a perfect example of what the rest of the series has to offer; ferocious horns, groovy guitar licks and a definite Mideast influence that reminds one of the early days of rai, back before they discovered the synthesizer. Anyone with a passion for funk or the sound of '70s Africa should pick up this set. © Rob Ferrier /TiVo

Allied to his melodic gifts, early experiences as a sound and balance engineer equipped Trevor Duncan with a profound understanding of instrumental colour. During the 1950s he composed music that became instantly recognisable in the light music tradition. The Girl from Corsica was heard almost daily on British radio and the theme tune for the BBC TV series "Dr. Finlay’s Casebook" remains one of his most celebrated works (it’s part of A Little Suite, heard here in full). Duncan was an inspiration for other composers, and was capable of sensuous romance, breezy scene setting, delicate tone poems and irresistible glamour. © Naxos