Anderson .Paak and Bruno Mars discovered a rapport in 2017 when the former, fresh off the release of Malibu, supported the latter on the 24K Magic tour. Mutual admiration and shared affinity for classic R&B predating their births, such as Motown and Philly soul -- and anything else with churning rhythm guitars, electric sitar, and flashy strings -- grew into Silk Sonic. The project was named by another favorite, funk legend Bootsy Collins, who hosts An Evening with Silk Sonic in expected cordial fashion on a handful of intros and featured appearances. The set would have to be left on repeat for at least six rotations to truly fill an evening -- it's only half an hour in length -- but none of the time is wasted. Paak and Mars might have had Teddy Pendergass' women-only concerts in mind as they made some of the ballads. "Leave the Door Open," an unlikely number one pop hit six months before the LP was released, is the number that best meshes the smooth and tender style of Mars with Paak's nephew-of-Bobby Womack rasp and comparatively Lothario-like (sometimes pushy) demeanor. The funkier slow jam "After Last Night" might invite comparisons to "Dick in a Box" but has a bit of Bootsy-style fantasy sleaze with a lyrical theme similar to "The Hunter Gets Captured By the Game." "Put On a Smile" provides more than mere entertainment with one of Mars' finest performances, while "Blast Off" coasts and sways like a 1979 Earth, Wind & Fire derivative. The energy in the uptempo material is all feel-good, too. The strutting "Fly as Me" lets loose a hook that recalls late-'60s/early '70s George Clinton ("[I Wanna] Testify," "I Wanna Know If It's Good to You"). "777," the most arrogant and ballerific cut, is shrewdly followed by the dashing roller disco jam "Skate," a Top 20 hit that preceded the album. The duo's playfulness here verges on hammy at times -- more often than on their solo recordings. The trade-off is that they push each other into new levels of showmanship without pandering to the audience. Besides, there's some genuinely witty stuff here. It's a wonder how Mars was able to keep his face straight while grousing, "Musta spent 35-45 thousand up in Tiffany's/Got her bad-ass kids runnin' round my whole crib like it's Chuck E. Cheese."© Andy Kellman /TiVo

It seems like a minor miracle that Evanescence released their second album at all, given the behind-the-scenes toil and trouble that surrounded the aftermath of their 2003 debut, Fallen, turning into an unexpected blockbuster. Actually, so much drama followed Evanescence that it's hardly the same band anymore. Certainly, pivotal songwriter/guitarist Ben Moody is no longer with the band, leaving not long after Fallen had become an international success, and sometime after that, they lost their bassist -- leaving behind Amy Lee as the indisputable leader of the band. She always was the face, voice, and spirit of the band anyway -- dominating so that it often seemed that she was named Evanescence and not fronting a band called that -- but by the time the group finally released their long-awaited second album, The Open Door, in October 2006, there was no question that it was her band, and she has learned well from the success of Fallen. Pushed to the background are the Tori-isms that constituted a good chunk of the debut -- they're saved for the brooding affirmation of a closer, "Good Enough," and the churning "Lithium," which most certainly is not a cover of Nirvana's classic (that song never mentioned its title, this repeats it incessantly) -- and in their place is the epic gothic rock (not quite the same thing as goth rock, mind you) that made Lee rock's leading witchy woman of the new millennium. And she doesn't hesitate to dig into the turmoil surrounding the band, since this truly is all about her -- she may artfully avoid the ugliness surrounding the lawsuit against her manager, whom she's alleged of sexual harassment, but she takes a few swipes against Moody, while hitting her semi-famous ex, Shaun Morgan of Seether, directly with "Call Me When You're Sober," as blunt a dismissal as they come. To hear her tell it, she not only doesn't need anybody, she's better on her own. Yet artists aren't always the best judge of their own work, and Lee could use somebody to help sculpt her sound into songs, the way she did when Moody was around. Not that she's flailing about necessarily -- "Call Me When You're Sober" not only has structure, it has hooks and momentum -- but far too often, The Open Door is a muddle of affections. Sonically, however, it captures the Evanescence mythos better and more consistently than the first album -- after all, Lee now has no apologies of being the thinking man's nu-metal chick, now that she's a star.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Pete Townshend was heading toward collapse as the '70s turned into the '80s. He had battled a number of personal demons throughout the '70s, but he started spiraling downward after Keith Moon's death, questioning more than ever why he did what he did (and this is a songwriter who always asked questions). Signs of that crept out on Face Dances, but he saved a full-blown exploration of his psyche for Empty Glass, his first solo album since Who Came First, a vanity project released to little notice around Who's Next (so limited in its distribution that Empty Glass seemed like his solo debut). Some of the songs on Empty Glass would have worked as Who songs, yet this is clearly a singer/songwriter album, the work of a writer determined to lay his emotions bare, whether on the plaintive "I Am an Animal" or the blistering punk love letter "Rough Boys." Since this is Townshend, it can be a little artier than it needs to be, as on the pseudo-Gilbert & Sullivan chorus of "Keep on Working," but the joy of Empty Glass is that his writing is sharp, his performances lively, his gift for pop hooks as apparent as his wit. Though it runs out of steam toward the end, Empty Glass remains one of the highlights of Townshend's catalog and is one of the most revealing records he cut, next to his other breakdown album, The Who by Numbers.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Though the Julia Hülsmann Quartet won a Deutscher Jazzpreis for 2019's Not Far from Here, it was only her second outing with that lineup. Most of her recording career has been spent leading a trio with drummer Heinrich Köbberling and bassist Marc Muellbauer. She discovered a more balanced musicality with greater potential for dialogic intimacy when gig partner and tenor saxophonist Uli Kempendorff joined the ensemble. The expanded configuration offered a textured airiness and more possibilities for group subtly, in addition to greater harmonic and rhythmic potential, and they worked together live as often as possible. Even during the pandemic, when most live activity was shut down, the quartet participated in alternative performance projects and played socially distanced live streaming concerts. They spent months vigorously rehearsing new material. The fruits of that period are readily evident on The Next Door.Hülsmann wrote five of the set's 12 tunes and spread the composition credits around. Each of her bandmates contributes. Also like Not Far from Here, she includes a cover, this one of Prince and Wendy & Lisa's "Sometimes It Snows in April." Opener "Empty Hands" commences with an optimistic 14-beat piano ostinato. Muellbauer and Köbberling follow, and Kempendorff's entrance begins an expansion of the melody. He and Hülsmann exchange lines and then solos that co-exist somewhere between focused conversation and breathable drift. Her subsequent "Made of Wood" is a glorious exercise in post-bop swing with remarkably syncopated harmonics. Muellbauer's "Polychrome" begins with an intricate lyric statement played in unison by bassist, pianist, and saxophonist. Hülsmann contributes an elliptical solo, but Kempendorff joins in, adding bluesy asides resulting in a multivalent dialogue; the rhythm section fills and accents while anchoring them. The drummer's "Lightcap" owes a great debt to the Ornette Coleman Quartet, despite the use of a piano. Following its nearly hummable head, his time-shifting style urges on his bandmates with an impressionistic backwards approach to the method trademarked by Paul Motian. The Prince cover is at once reverent and resonant. Hülsmann carries the melody, framing it in sparse yet luscious chords as Köbberling paces along using brushes. Kempendorff follows the pianist, delivering a sparse yet emotionally bright solo before Hülsmann employs the changes in an airy solo that alternately touches on gospel and nursery rhymes. Kempendorff's only contribution is "Open Up," a jaunty post-bop number with interlocking improvisations atop imaginative, syncopated breaks from Köbberling, and canny interaction between saxophonist and pianist. The drummer's elliptical "Post Post Post" displays a mysterious softness in tone even as it weaves in harmonic development through the pianist's intuitive comps and Muellbauer's exceptional bass solo. He composed the set closer, "Valdemossa," a progressive, nearly avant take on bossa nova with slippery piano harmonics, a lush, haunted melody, and inventive, tempered soloing from Kempendorff. The Next Door finds the Hülsmann quartet intuitively and purposefully exploring music that moves forward some from Not Far from Here while retaining an intimately familiar sound and conversational approach.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

With the release of Spiral, the award-winning pianist/composer Hiromi Uehara stands at the threshold of limitless possibility. Her third trio recording in as many years finds her in the familiar company of drummer Martin Valihora and bass player Tony Grey, but the CD itself goes beyond expectations. It features all original compositions, including the 28-minute"Music for a Three-Piece Orchestra," a suite of four tracks -- "Open Door/Tuning/Prologue," "Déjà Vu," "Reverse," and "Edge" -- that spotlight Hiromi's formidable technique and impressive compositional skills. The suite was inspired by Hiromi's desire to expand the sound of her trio into orchestral spaces and to give her listeners an intense listening experience. By contrast, the highly energetic "Return of Kung-Fu World Champion" captures the essence of the trio in a smaller, jazz-rock fusion format that kicks with the same excitement as a martial arts tournament. The title track "Spiral" alternates between improvisation and carefully crafted jazz elements, while the delicate comping chords heard on "Love and Laughter" are a sure indication of jazz giant Ahmad Jamal's positive influence as a mentor. Both songs beautifully captivate and induce your imagination to spiral toward the trio's interplay, flurry of notes, and aural qualities. Overall, Spiral exceeds the standards set by Hiromi's previous releases, Another Mind and Brain, and should garner her a wider audience. [This Hybrid Disc edition features discreet, multi-channel surround in addition to both standard stereo and SACD-stereo playback.] © Paula Edelstein /TiVo

After the creative and commercial misfire of their third album, Strictly Personal, Detroit's the Romantics took a step in the right direction with their next effort, 1983's In Heat. While the hard rock production of Strictly Personal was pure overkill, In Heat was the band's leanest effort to date, and though producer Pete Solly doesn't reprise the neo-Shel Talmy sound he brought to their debut, he puts the focus here on the group's strengths -- straightforward pop/rock tunes with a big beat, big hooks, sharp harmonies and plenty of energy. It also helped that Mike Skill returned to the band for this LP as bassist, bringing a knack for a good tune with him, and Coz Canler learned to rein in his guitar style, giving the performances on this disc a tighter and more compact sound that fits the material just right. The band nodded to their musical roots with a pair of pair of appropriate covers, "Open Up Your Door" (a big hit in Michigan in its original version from Richard & the Young Lions and "Shake a Tail Feather" (a rocked-up version of Andre Williams' R&B perennial), and while the album's two big hits, "Talking in Your Sleep" and "One in a Million," are a far cry from "What I Like About You," they're clever and memorably hooky, and after Strictly Personal they were a breath of fresh air. In Heat was the Romantics' most commercially successful album, and while it certainly isn't their best, it's an entertaining showcase of what these guys did well.© Mark Deming /TiVo

Anderson .Paak and Bruno Mars discovered a rapport in 2017 when the former, fresh off the release of Malibu, supported the latter on the 24K Magic tour. Mutual admiration and shared affinity for classic R&B predating their births, such as Motown and Philly soul -- and anything else with churning rhythm guitars, electric sitar, and flashy strings -- grew into Silk Sonic. The project was named by another favorite, funk legend Bootsy Collins, who hosts An Evening with Silk Sonic in expected cordial fashion on a handful of intros and featured appearances. The set would have to be left on repeat for at least six rotations to truly fill an evening -- it's only half an hour in length -- but none of the time is wasted. Paak and Mars might have had Teddy Pendergass' women-only concerts in mind as they made some of the ballads. "Leave the Door Open," an unlikely number one pop hit six months before the LP was released, is the number that best meshes the smooth and tender style of Mars with Paak's nephew-of-Bobby Womack rasp and comparatively Lothario-like (sometimes pushy) demeanor. The funkier slow jam "After Last Night" might invite comparisons to "Dick in a Box" but has a bit of Bootsy-style fantasy sleaze with a lyrical theme similar to "The Hunter Gets Captured By the Game." "Put On a Smile" provides more than mere entertainment with one of Mars' finest performances, while "Blast Off" coasts and sways like a 1979 Earth, Wind & Fire derivative. The energy in the uptempo material is all feel-good, too. The strutting "Fly as Me" lets loose a hook that recalls late-'60s/early '70s George Clinton ("[I Wanna] Testify," "I Wanna Know If It's Good to You"). "777," the most arrogant and ballerific cut, is shrewdly followed by the dashing roller disco jam "Skate," a Top 20 hit that preceded the album. The duo's playfulness here verges on hammy at times -- more often than on their solo recordings. The trade-off is that they push each other into new levels of showmanship without pandering to the audience. Besides, there's some genuinely witty stuff here. It's a wonder how Mars was able to keep his face straight while grousing, "Musta spent 35-45 thousand up in Tiffany's/Got her bad-ass kids runnin' round my whole crib like it's Chuck E. Cheese."© Andy Kellman /TiVo

It was never supposed to be like this: "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay" was supposed to mark the beginning of a new phase in Otis Redding's career, not an ending. Producer/guitarist Steve Cropper had a difficult task to perform in pulling together this album, the first of several posthumous releases issued by Stax/Volt in the wake of Redding's death. What could have been a cash-in effort or a grim memorial album instead became a vivid, exciting presentation of some key aspects of the talent that was lost when Redding died. Dock of the Bay is, indeed, a mixed bag of singles and B-sides going back to July of 1965, one hit duet with Carla Thomas, and two, previously unissued tracks from 1966 and 1967. There's little cohesion, stylistic or otherwise, in the songs, especially when the title track is taken into consideration -- nothing else here resembles it, for the obvious reason that Redding never had a chance to follow it up. Despite the mix-and-match nature of the album, however, this is an impossible record not to love. Cropper chose his tracks well, selecting some of the strongest and most unusual among the late singer's orphaned songs: "I Love You More Than Words Can Say" is one of Redding's most passionate performances; "Let Me Come on Home" presents an ebullient Redding accompanied by some sharp playing, and "Don't Mess with Cupid" begins with a gorgeous guitar flourish and blooms into an intense, pounding, soaring showcase for singer and band alike. No one could complain about the album then, and it still holds more than four decades later.© Bruce Eder /TiVo

At the heart of punk rock's early-'90s rebirth was a crew of California groups who put out their own fast and tight songs with plenty of influence from Bad Religion. Pennywise's self-titled record was one of the better records of this region and period, and its short and sweet anthems are still a great listen. From the unforgettable "No Reason Why" to the heartfelt ode "Bro Hymn and the theme-song glory of "Pennywise," this is some truly catchy punk rock. The guitars are a constant metallic presence along with high-speed drums and simple but memorable lyrics. This record literally never slows down, instead jumping from track to track and driving faster ahead every second. The music is unrelenting, but that doesn't mean you can't hear and in fact understand every word, a quality that drags the listener further and further in. There are way too many records still coming out that sound similar to this, but not only did this record emerge in 1991, it STILL has more heart than those that try to emulate it. With positive ideals and punk attitudes, this record is both a middle finger in the direction of authority and a call to unity for the disillusioned. Singer Jim Lindberg has a powerful voice, and with plenty of help on backing harmonies, the band is able to be both melodic and aggressive while still being believable. Punk rock isn't brain surgery, but this record helped make Pennywise one of the groups able to bring their message to the mainstream and at least give it a bit more credibility.© Peter J. D'Angelo /TiVo

After years of being told what she ought to do by record companies and producers, and then putting up with being ignored thanks to the public's fanatic interest in rock & roll, virtuoso jazz singer Carter started her own label. After getting her feet wet with the first few releases, she came up with this double album, which some fans would consider her masterpiece. Eventually it was licensed to Verve. The set is as faithful as possible; a transcription of her nightclub sets with piano trio backing. Interestingly enough, it is not actually recorded at a nightclub per se, because the Great American Music Hall, formerly one of San Francisco's most posh bordellos, is actually more a small theatre, with the set up just intimate enough to pull off this kind of live recording. A pity that the singer herself had to fund the project, because, in 1980, it was much more expensive and complicated to record live than it would become decades later with new technology. And no doubt Carter had to cut a few corners and make do with the results. So, most listeners will have some quibble with the sound, wishing, for example, for much more piano presence, more clarity from the drums, and so forth. This would have to be the only complaints that could be allowed over this material, recorded over three nights, and no doubt allowing plenty of choice of takes. "Sounds (Movin' On)" is Carter's "Chasin' the Trane": it is a bit more than 25 minutes worth of vocal improvisation, use of the voice as an instrument in interplay with the other musicians, and, above all, sheer energy, which is one thing it definitely has in common with the aforementioned Coltrane performance. Another thing in common with Coltrane would be the pianist, John Hicks, who comes out of McCoy Tyner, the saxophonist's main piano accompanist. Hicks goes just about as far out as his notoriously anti-avant-garde boss will allow in these circumstances. The remaining three sides are a mixture of standards and songs written by Carter. Her songwriting talents are an area that has definitely been overshadowed by her singing chops in terms of critical reception. The fourth side of this set, which consists almost totally of her originals, is a good place for one to explore the beautiful, tough-minded songs she writes. Other high points are the lovely exploration of "Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most" and, of course, the fast numbers. There is not a singer alive that takes on the tempos Betty Carter does, and it is a good thing, too. Otherwise, the cardiac wards would be full of drummers and there would be no room for anyone else to get treatment. An interesting choice amongst the songs is a version of "Caribbean Sun," written by the under-appreciated saxophonist Carlos Garnett. Carter's original gatefold packaging included a photo of the entire audience.© Eugene Chadbourne /TiVo

On their debut, Of Skin and Heart, the Church play straightforward pop/rock firmly rooted in new wave, though owing no small debt to '60s pop. Edgier and more direct than their later work, it also ranks among their finest for that very reason. None of the excesses and ambitions that would sometimes get out of hand on later releases are present, though much of the band's basic formula was laid down -- Steve Kilbey's cool, detached vocals and slightly surrealistic lyrics combined with some outstanding pop hooks, nice harmonies, and layers of ringing guitar. The classic "Unguarded Moment" (arguably one of the greatest singles of the '80s) overshadows much of the material on the album, but there is really no shortage of great songs here. [The album was originally released in the U.S. as The Church with some tracks dropped in favor of three tracks from singles released around the same time. In 1988, Arista released Of Skin and Heart on CD in its original form with the added tracks from The Church tacked onto the end.]© Chris Woodstra /TiVo

Jimmy LaFave, who passed away prematurely in 2017, pens Peace Town, a most feverish posthumous album that reaches the heights of Americana. But beyond the emotional charge that he delivers, this is also a superb introduction to this American folk music filled with history. With performances full of honesty and integrity, LaFave pays homage to many artists, and we sometimes prefer the covers. This set of two CDs opens on the absolute metamorphosis of Pete Townshend’s title, Let My Love Open the Door. Transposed on more acoustic foundations, the song strays away from the 80s bouncing pop to increase in intensity and depth. In this country, folk, rock and blues repertoire, there’s no lack of references that build a true historical castle. Although he wanted to record about a hundred songs, this release on the label Music Road Records still includes twenty. Absolute fan of Woody Guthrie, he pays homage to the folk icon from Oklahoma through his compositions Salvation Train or Sideline Woman. An established artist, LaFave also plays the role of relay. He maintains a culture that has accompanied him all his life. From Leon Russell (Help Me Through the Day) to J.J. Cale (Do Not Go To Strangers), to Sis Cunningham (My Oklahoma Home (It Blowed Away)), Chuck Berry (The Promised Land) and many others, this is an open love letter that he writes… He even covers the title I May Be Used (But I Ain't Used Up) that sang Waylon Jennings, proof that his songs will be listened to long after his death. © Clara Bismuth/Qobuz