“This is my life in Songs. Some of them reconstructed, some of them refitted, some of them reframed, and all of them with a contemporary focus.” That is the description of Sting’s latest record, making this more than just a collection of his biggest hits (either solo or with The Police). It was a particular kind of rhythm that he wanted to work in, so as to eliminate the ‘dated’ feel to some of his songs (according to Sting himself). More striking than the original, the drums of Demolition Man, If You Love Someone Set Them Free, Desert Rose and even Englishman in New York will take listeners by surprise. Regarding this famous tribute to gay icon Quentin Crisp, the song released in 1988 is seasoned by pizzicatos and a soprano sax solo.As for the other ballads, it’s more in the singer’s texture and vocal prowess that the reinvention is most noticeable. Less pure but more structured than before, Sting’s voice carries a new dimension in Fields of Gold and Fragile, two songs that also prove that the Englishman’s talent as a melodist has not aged a bit. The same goes for tracks taken from his Police years too, in particular Message in a Bottle and Walking on the Moon, as well as the ubiquitous Roxanne (presented here as a live version). © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

Since his appearance on the French jazz scene in the early 2000s, Baptiste Trotignon has imposed himself as one of the most brilliant pianists of his generation. He has multiplied the prestigious collaborations (Aldo Romano, Stefano Di Battista, Brad Mehldau…) and personal projects of various formats and registers, from pure solo work (Solo, Body And Soul) to quintets (Share). Alongside this, is the neo-classical piano concerto Different Spaces with Nicholas Angelich as a soloist, as well as an album of “songs” (Song, Song, Song). However, it is without a doubt in the intimate and egalitarian setting of a trio, which he revisits regularly as if to recharge his batteries, that he displays the most spontaneous part of his talent. His inaugural album Fluide, recorded in 2000 with Clovis Nicolas on bass and Tony Rabeson on drums, was followed by Hit in 2014 with Thomas Bramerie and Jeff Ballard. This time it’s accompanied by Matt Penman and Greg Hutchinson that he creates this particularly joyous new album, made up entirely of covers of great English pop classics. Merrily going from The Beatles to Radiohead, from Pink Floyd to The Rolling Stones, from The Police and Led Zeppelin to Elvis Costello and even Robert Wyatt, Baptiste Trotignon highlights his dazzling style that mixes velocity with rigour. He fully plays the lyricism and virtuosity card in intense, energetic sequences, full of fluttering arabesques, always articulated with great legibility and constant attention to the melody. Far from a slightly haughty exercise in style that would overcomplicate simplistic thematic material with clever reharmonizations, the trio pays complete homage to the melodic energy and sumptuousness of these songs that already belong to our collective imaginary, in doing so creating a record that is as lovingly audacious as it is perpetually inventive. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

Ahead of  the holiday season, the a cappella ensemble Voces8 presents a Christmas album that is decidedly British. The 15 tracks attest to this, all drawn from the traditional religious Christmas music of England, from Handel to contemporary composer Bob Chilcott. For the occasion, Voces8 has come together with the Voces8 Foundation Orchestra, an instrumental ensemble born of their philanthropic efforts in musical education and democratization. American conductor and composer Barnaby Smith also pitches in: many of the arrangements of the works presented on the album owe themselves to him. The result is highly sophisticated, vivid, and cinematographic…perhaps too much so? Or rather, let's say that the bold artistic team fearlessly dives headfirst into the spectacular, greatly supported by the brass and string sections. Fans of music that is, perhaps, more subtle, will undoubtedly be a bit taken aback, but it’s quite difficult to not be won over by the great sense of festive joy that emanates from this album. © Pierre Lamy/Qobuz

When you have a musical career as long and as successful as Sting's, it becomes easy for the listener to hear each new album in the context of previous projects. In truth, The Bridge is a great testament to the English singer/songwriter's gift for bringing his diverse influences to bear in a rich and very personal record that rewards repeat listening. This new album is a reflection on a world in transition and the need for a metaphorical bridge to a better state of humanity, so the work is rife with images of water, peril, and crossings to safety and fulfillment. The Bridge was created in Sting's home studio during the pandemic, with guest artists making significant contributions remotely, such as long-time collaborator Dominic Miller's beautiful, chiming guitar work on the haunting "The Bells of St. Thomas," and drummer extraordinaire Manu Katché's jazz-funk backbeat on "Captain Bateman's Basement." There are elements that might have you thinking of past highlights in Sting's oeuvre, such as Branford Marsalis' unmistakable sax on "Harmony," or the beautiful acoustic guitar on "For Her Love" that the English musician utilizes so well in his heartfelt ballads. In songs like "Rushing Water," his songcraft and arranging genius reflects the less-is-more approach that was prevalent in so many of his hits with The Police, while "If It's Love" has the warmth and breeziness of songs from his album Sacred Love. More examples of Sting's creative diversity on The Bridge include "The Hills on the Border," a folk-inspired tune that would not be out of place in his musical The Last Ship, and the Celtic violins on "Captain Bateman." We all need to seek the higher ground at one time or another, and in The Bridge, one of this generation's best singer/songwriters has engineered a structure as solid, as thoughtful, and ultimately as compelling as any he has created before. © Rick Banales/Qobuz

This is certainly not the only collection of popular Christmas carols from one of Britain's venerable collegiate choirs, and the Choir of King's College, Cambridge, conducted then as now by Stephen Cleobury, has even issued one in the past, containing many of the carols sung here. Are there distinctive strengths? Absolutely. One is the mostly fresh set of arrangements, by Cleobury and others, that enliven the material with chromaticism, often in a slightly humorous way. And then there's the presence of a couple of new hymns, one of which, Bob Chilcott's The Shepherd's Carol, just might turn into a permanent addition to the repertory. (Both that and a carol by Rutter were commissioned by the choir.) But above the individual attractions looms the solid quality of the recording. Cleobury gets from the choristers an ideal balance of purity, conviction, musical sensitivity, and a bit of gutsiness, and the whole program brings a feeling of newness to the most familiar musical materials of all. Those in search of a Christmas carol recording from one of Britain's top collegiate choirs can buy with confidence here.© TiVo

Like its creator, Kamasi Washington's triple album debut, The Epic, is imposing, multi-faceted and aspiring to change music forever. A close collaborator with fellow innovative Angelenos Stephen Bruner (Thundercat), Steven Ellison (Flying Lotus) and Kendrick Lamar, Washington's evolved vision mixes bebop, soul jazz, old school organ trio R&B, space jazz and fusion à la Miles Davis. At the center of this prismatic, conscious-expanding maelstrom is Washington's bodacious horn whose tone and approach can by turns be compared to the playing of Azar Lawrence, Pharoah Sanders and especially John Coltrane. The musical forces assembled to energize Washington's intuitive, spiritual meld are truly Herculean. Supported by Thundercat, keyboardists Cameron Graves and Brandon Coleman, trombones, trumpets and more, Washington, who also served as producer, worked a string section, a 20-voice choir and solo vocalist Patrice Quinn into his futuristic arrangements. Despite overdubbing by the project's six engineers, the sonic results are sleek and uncluttered. The diverse flavors here vary with each tune. Introduced by Coleman's organ, "Final Thought" mixes funk and post-bop with Washington's nimble honking. The swing rhythms and wordless vocal choir of "The Next Step" show the results of his time with innovative big band leader Gerald Wilson. Unadulterated fun is the object of the 70's funk groove, "Re Run Home." For those who doubt his connection to music history there's the one-two punch of the standard "Cherokee" and his soaring re-imagining of a movement of Claude Debussy's "Clair de Lune." While one can quibble that perhaps three discs is too much of a good thing, it's clear from the assured first notes of the aptly-titled opener "Change of the Guard" that Washington is a musical mystic who's fused his wisdoms and exposures into a debut that's not a product of the insular jazz bubble, nor an au courant hip hop-jazz mashup, but three hours that somehow sound old and new in the same moment—a virtuosic musical statement, one constantly verging on genius. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

The way that Chaka Khan turbocharged the career of Chicago funk band Rufus was extraordinary enough to warrant the group appending "featuring Chaka Khan" to its name throughout most of her hit-making tenure with them. So, it was inevitable that after four successful studio albums between 1974 and 1977 that "featured" Chaka Khan, Rufus would soon watch their star vocalist embark upon a solo career, even though that solo career mostly took place alongside her role in Rufus. (Khan would appear on several more—though not all—Rufus albums until the band's eventual dissolution in 1983, truly becoming a "featured" performer.) 1978's Chaka was released the same year as Street Player, her fifth studio album with the band, and the contrast between the two records could not be more sharp. While the latter focused on brassy funk and midtempo drama like "Stay," Chaka explodes out of the gate with "I'm Every Woman," a now-inescapable banger that finds both Khan and the songwriting team of Ashford & Simpson at the heights of their powers. Its lush, discofied groove makes the song an insistent dancefloor hit and also a remarkable showcase for Khan's voice.  While that voice had long been a focal point on Rufus albums, they often used group harmonies. On Chaka, her room-filling approach to singing is given plenty of space to shine, and she is unafraid to unleash its full power, which she does so tastefully and with plenty of dynamics. "I'm Every Woman" is undoubtedly the best-known classic, but the album also shines with other notable moments like the slow jam favorite "Roll Me Through the Rushes," which would become a deep-cut cornerstone of Quiet Storm radio, the gender-flipped Stevie Wonder cover "I Was Made to Love Him," and the jazzy romance of "We Got the Love," which finds Khan duetting with George Benson. Arif Mardin's production touch is a perfect match, expertly fusing a sophisticated soulfulness with dancefloor acumen and marshaling an army of session players to execute this material at its highest possible level, and this dynamic modern remaster delivers warmth and presence. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Ever since Moon Safari was hailed as an instant classic, Air have swung back and forth between the experimental and accessible sides that Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoît Dunckel united so perfectly on their debut. 10,000 Hz Legend might have been too grandiose and aggressively experimental for some Air fans, but Talkie Walkie sometimes felt as if the duo was presenting the most widely palatable version of their music possible. On Pocket Symphony, Dunckel and Godin find a balance between pretty and inventive that they haven't struck since, well, Moon Safari, even though it isn't nearly as immediate -- even by Air's standards, this is an extremely introspective and atmospheric album. It's beyond clichéd to call the duo's music filmic; nevertheless, "Space Maker" and "Night Sight" play like the album's opening titles and ending credits, bracketing a set of songs that are sadder and wiser than anything Air has done since The Virgin Suicides (particularly "Lost Message," which could have easily appeared on that soundtrack). Made around the same time Dunckel and Godin were working with Jarvis Cocker and Neil Hannon (who also appear here) on Charlotte Gainsbourg's 5:55 and Dunckel was recording his solo project Darkel, Pocket Symphony could be seen as part of a loose trilogy; if so, it's more in line with 5:55's moody romanticism than Darkel's hyper-pop (where, apparently, any lighter-hearted tracks along the lines of Talkie Walkie's "Alpha Beta Gaga" or "Surfing on a Rocket" ended up). However, Pocket Symphony doesn't feel as serenely untouchable as some of Air's previous work, and these darker cracks and wrinkles give it character. These songs are often unsettling, but gently so, like dreams that are still vivid but hard to explain upon waking. The Neil Hannon-sung "Somewhere Between Waking and Sleeping" is the most obvious example of Pocket Symphony's fever dream atmosphere, but there are plenty of others: "Photograph," a quintessentially sensuous Air track, gives the impression of something a little sinister occurring just out of frame; "Redhead Girl" is a lush meditation on unrequited love so paralyzing that time itself stops. The entire album deals with toxic love and its fallout, but Dunckel and Godin alternate between romanticizing heartbreak and showing just how dreary it can be -- although, skilled mood-makers that they are, they manage to make dreary sound pretty romantic, too. The deceptively delicate single "Once Upon a Time" darkens its fairy tale imagery with the fact that once upon a time might be never, while the outstanding "One Hell of a Party," which features Jarvis Cocker on vocals, presents a breakup as a hangover (a sentiment Cocker also explored brilliantly on Pulp's This Is Hardcore). Pocket Symphony pairs Air with producer Nigel Godrich, which is an inspired choice -- not just because Godrich has a similarly atmospheric touch and adds lots of fascinating sonic details, but because he helps Air keep the album intimate, not polished into a state of distant perfection. "Left Bank," which blends humming with a cello and captures Godin's acoustic guitar so clearly it sounds like he's strumming it behind you, is a gorgeous example of how well this collaboration works. The Japanese influence on Talkie Walkie and Air's music for Lost in Translation is deepened on Pocket Symphony, with shamisen and koto (which Godin spent a year learning to play) adding to its ethereal beauty, particularly on "Mer du Japon." Musically and thematically, this is some of Air's most elegant, mature music; it does what it does so compellingly that any attempts to be "poppy" would miss the point. © Heather Phares /TiVo

When New Order's Bernard Sumner joined the Smiths' Johnny Marr to form Electronic in 1989, some called it a dream collaboration. Marr's gifted guitar work made him a star musician on top of making the Smiths one of the greatest bands to emerge from post-punk. Sumner and his coolly boyish vocals stepped up to fill the shoes of his old friend, the late Ian Curtis, upon the end of Joy Division in 1980. New Order and the Smiths were two bands that matched one another in appeal and importance. Both groups also defined what would be known as alternative rock, so Marr and Sumner coming together just made sense. Get the Message: The Best of Electronic is a definitive look at how the super duo succeeded in making cohesive and appealing dance-rock and became one of the greatest alt-rock bands. All three albums -- 1991's self-titled masterpiece, 1996's Raise the Pressue, and their 1999 hidden treasure, Twisted Tenderness -- are represented throughout along with an assortment of outtakes and remixes. Their various collaborations, including their very memorable work done with the Pet Shop Boys' Neil Tennant, cannot be forgotten, either. Their U.K. Top 20 hit "Getting Away with It," the fluid acoustic guitars of "Get the Message," and the previously unavailable single mix of "Disappointed," all of which feature Tennant on vocals, remain timeless standouts for Electronic. Other highlights include the sexy synth beats of "Imitation of Life" (B-side to "Forbidden City") and "All That I Need" (B-side to the Karl Bartos-penned hit from Raise the Pressure's "For You"). With Rhino's meticulous selection of tracks, Get the Message is definitely one of those collections tailored for both longtime fans who already own everything and for new fans seeking a great prelude.© MacKenzie Wilson /TiVo

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The Slim Shady LP announced not only Eminem's arrival, but it established that his producer Dr. Dre was anything but passé, thereby raising expectations for 2001, the long-anticipated sequel to The Chronic. It suggested that 2001 wouldn't simply be recycled Chronic, and, musically speaking, that's more or less true. He's pushed himself hard, finding new variations in the formula by adding ominous strings, soulful vocals, and reggae, resulting in fairly interesting recontextualizations. Padded out to 22 tracks, 2001 isn't as consistent or striking as Slim Shady, but the music is always brimming with character. If only the same could be said about the rappers! Why does a producer as original as Dre work with such pedestrian rappers? Perhaps it's to ensure his control over the project, or to mask his own shortcomings as an MC, but the album suffers considerably as a result. Out of all the other rappers on 2001, only Snoop and Eminem -- Dre's two great protégés -- have character and while Eminem's jokiness still is unpredictable, Snoop sounds nearly as tired as the second-rate rappers. The only difference is, there's pleasure in hearing Snoop's style, while the rest sound staid. That's the major problem with 2001: lyrically and thematically, it's nothing but gangsta clichés. Scratch that, it's über-gangsta, blown up so large that it feels like a parody. Song after song, there's a never-ending litany of violence, drugs, pussy, bitches, dope, guns, and gangsters. After a full decade of this, it takes real effort to get outraged at this stuff, so chances are, you'll shut out the words and groove along since, sonically, this is first-rate, straight-up gangsta. Still, no matter how much fun you may have, it's hard not to shake the feeling that this is cheap, not lasting, fun.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

By 1979's Reggatta de Blanc (translation: White Reggae), nonstop touring had sharpened the Police's original blend of reggae-rock to perfection, resulting in breakthrough success. Containing a pair of massive hit singles -- the inspirational anthem "Message in a Bottle" and the spacious "Walking on the Moon" -- the album also signaled a change in the band's sound. Whereas their debut got its point across with raw, energetic performances, Reggatta de Blanc was much more polished production-wise and fully developed from a songwriting standpoint. While vigorous rockers did crop up from time to time ("It's Alright for You," "Deathwish," "No Time This Time," and the Grammy-winning instrumental title track), the material was overall much more sedate than the debut -- "Bring on the Night," "The Bed's Too Big Without You," and "Does Everyone Stare." Also included was one of Stewart Copeland's two lead vocal appearances on a Police album, the witty "On Any Other Day," as well as one of the band's most eerie tracks, "Contact." With Reggatta de Blanc, many picked Sting and company to be the superstar band of the '80s, and the Police would prove them correct on the band's next release.© Greg Prato /TiVo

Well, if you just had your biggest hit ever, you'd probably try to replicate it, too. And if you were praised for being visionary because you played all your blues grooves to a slightly sequenced beat, you'd probably be tempted to not just continue in that direction, but to tighten the sequencer and graft on synthesizers, since it'll all signal how futuristic you are. While you're at it, you might visualize how space age this all is by turning your signature car into a space shuttle. If you look at things that way, then Afterburner, ZZ Top's follow-up to their blockbuster Eliminator, makes sense -- they're just giving the people more of what they want. Problem is, no matter how much you dress ZZ Top up, they're still ZZ Top. Sometimes they can trick you into thinking they're a little flashier than usual, but they're still a lil' ol' blues band from Texas, kicking out blues-rockers. And blues-rock just doesn't kick when it's synthesized, even if ZZ Top's grooves always bordered on robotic. So, Afterburner, their most synthetic album, will not please most ZZ Top fans, even if it did go platinum several time over and reached number four. That's all just a sign of the times, when even hard rock bands had to sound as slick as synth pop, complete with clanging DX-7s and cavernous drums. As an artifact of that time, Afterburner is pretty good -- never has a hard rock album sounded so artificial, nor has a nominal blues-rock album sounded so devoid of blues. Apart from the chugging "Sleeping Bag," not even the singles sound like ZZ Top (though "Dipping Low (In the Lap of Luxury" is a blatant "Gimme All Your Lovin'" rewrite): the terrific post-new wave rocker "Stages" is the poppiest thing they ever cut, the ballad "Rough Boy" is far removed from slow blues, and the full-fledged synth dance of "Velcro Fly" is a true mind-bender. All this means that Afterburner is merely a product of its time -- the only record ZZ Top could have made at the time, but it hardly exists out of that time.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo