In the 1960s, a wave of decolonization and independence swept across the African continent, and, by the mid-'70s, many of the "new" countries that had come into existence were flexing their cultural muscles in unique ways. In many instances, long-suppressed artistic traditions were resuscitated to create music, film, and fine art that communicated with international trends on its own terms. Among the many renowned scenes where this was happening was the bristly, defiant rock scene in Zambia. Often colloquially referred to as "Zamrock," the explosion of rock bands in the country was as inspired by the global youth culture-zeitgeist as it was by a highly specific opportunity: by government edict, nearly all music played on the radio in the country had to be made by local musicians. Scores of bands suddenly exploded onto the country's rock scene, none making a bigger impact than Witch (We Intend To Cause Havoc), who not only released the first full-length album by a Zambian rock band (Introduction, 1972) but also served as the guiding light for multiple other Zamrock bands throughout the '70s. While enormously popular and influential in their home country, Witch suffered lineup changes and decreasing popularity until a 2011 reissue campaign of the seven albums they released between 1972 and 1984 ignited a broader interest in them and in Zamrock as a whole. A 2019 documentary about the band helped lead to their current reformation, and, with original vocalist Emmanuel "Jagari" Chanda back in front, along with '80s-era keyboardist Patrick Mwondela and a clutch of younger collaborators in tow, they've recorded and released their first album of new material in nearly 40 years. Zango hews closely to their original, fiery sound, with plenty of overdriven guitars and garage-psych flourishes. Chanda—now in his seventies—still sounds like a swaggering, soulful, rock god, and while he is often supported on these ten tracks by plenty of melodic instrumentation and a raft of background vocalists, there is none of the wistful mortality-wrestling that afflicts so many other rock singers of his generation. Instead, the band digs into all corners of their trick bag to come up with a wildly varied and fun album. The intense and driving "Waile" is a gritty and sharp bit of funk rock; "Avalanche of Love" nods toward hip-hop cadences while keeping its heart firmly rooted in wah-wah guitars and thrashing drums; meanwhile, "Stop the Rot" is pure red-line, Funkadelic-laced distorto-groove. It all comes together to make an album that's deeply true to Witch's core legacy of electrified freedom, while still being unashamedly modern. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

Bad Blood reveals that Bastille is a synth-driven band that isn't particularly arty, something of a rarity during the electronic pop revival of the 2000s and 2010s. Where many of their contemporaries used the glamour of synth-pop's '80s heyday and electronic music's infinite possibilities to craft shiny pop fantasies, Bastille builds on the glossy, anthemic approach they set forth on the Laura Palmer EP (the title track, which is included here, might also be the least arty song inspired by David Lynch's surreal soap opera Twin Peaks). Early highlights like "Pompeii," "These Streets," and the title track boast panoramic choruses and sleek arrangements that hint at a kinship with Empire of the Sun and Delphic, while the handclaps and popping bassline on the otherwise moody "Icarus" recall Hot Chip at their most confessional. However, most of Bad Blood suggests that Bastille are actually an electronically enhanced upgrade of sweeping British pop traditionalists like Keane or Coldplay. The band updates "Oblivion"'s piano balladry with ping-ponging drums and contrasts Dan Smith's throaty singing and searching lyrics ("There's a hole in my soul/Can you fill it?") with a tumbling beat on "Flaws." Like the aforementioned acts, Bastille has a way with heartfelt melodies and choruses that resonate, particularly on the driving "Things We Lost in the Fire" and "Get Home," where the slightly processed vocals also evoke Sia, Imogen Heap, and other electronic-friendly singer/songwriters. While the band occasionally gets a little too self-serious on the album's second half, Bad Blood is a solid, polished debut that fans of acts like Snow Patrol (who don't mind more electronics in the mix) might appreciate more than synth-pop aficionados.© Heather Phares /TiVo

The Dave Matthews Band made their reputation through touring, spending endless nights on the road improvising. Often, their records hinted at the eclecticism and adventure inherent in those improvisation, but Before These Crowded Streets is the first album to fully capture that adventurous spirit. Not coincidentally, it's their least accessible record, even if it's more of a consolidation than it is a step forward. Early Dave Matthews albums were devoted to the worldbeat fusions of Graceland and Sting, but his RCA efforts incorporated these influences into a smoother, pop-oriented style. Here, everything hangs out. Old trademarks, like jittery acoustic grooves and jazzy chords, are here, augmented by complex polyrhythms, Mideastern dirges, and on two tracks, the slashing strings of the Kronos Quartet. Some fans may find the new, darker textures a little disarming at first, but they're a logical extension of the group's work, and in many ways, this sonic daring results in the most rewarding album they've yet recorded. The Dave Matthews Band haven't completely vanquished their demons, however -- songwriting remains a problem, especially since relying on grooves, improvisation, and texture allows them to skimp on melody, and Matthews' lyrics can be awkward and embarrassing, especially if he's writing about sex. Still, these are minor flaws on an album that relies on tone and improvisation, both of which are in ample supply on Before These Crowded Streets.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Hotel Kalifornia is the eighth long-player from Los Angeles rap-rock stalwarts Hollywood Undead and the first since 2020's ambitious two-parter New Empire, Vols. 1 and 2. Like those albums, Hotel Kalifornia finds the quintet alternating between teeth-rattling nu-metal breakdowns, soaring melodic choruses, and nimble raps fueled by a mix of aggro swagger and the horror-chaos themes that are their bread and butter. Formed in the mid-2000s, the formerly hockey-masked crew have a long history of genre-loading their songs, and over the years they've become quite good at assembling quick-cut tracks that stylistically turn on a dime while still hanging together. They also have a knack for melodic hooks and provide enough here ("Ruin My Life," "Lion Eyes") to satisfy the album's duration. It's not a game changer likely to earn the band legions of new fans, but it's certainly on par with the quality of their latter-day releases.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

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The 13th DJ Khaled album is dominated by the lead eight-minute title track -- more precisely a four-minute section within it. "God Did" starts as nothing special, Khaled content aiming for anthem status with a solemn intro, half-preening/half-motivational Khaled-speak, and identikit roles for Rick Ross and Lil Wayne. Jay-Z then astounds with an extended verse detailing the surreal contrast between his past and present, dissecting with deceptive complexity the drug war and criminal justice system, not without showing off a bit, emphasizing his high standing by modifying the title to "Hov did." The acuity, wit, and virtuosity command rapt attention. "Juice WRLD Did" doesn't have the same ring to it, but the wobbling/chiming track is among the album's few other memorable moments despite being dusted off and slapped into the sequence after Khaled added his vocal stamp. Its bittersweet quality is strongest when Juice, who died in 2019, declares himself rookie of the year. Latto and City Girls lead the few new members of Khaled's studio family on the fun and supremely assertive "Bills Paid," with Khaled and his production associates revamping what Bink did to Eddie Kendricks' dancefloor funk epic "Keep On Truckin'" for Mr. Cheeks' "Lights, Camera, Action!" The other songs with elements of old hits typify the lack of vitality in God Did. "Staying Alive," featuring Drake and Lil Baby, deflates the chorus of the like-titled Bee Gees song for the sake of a torpid ballad. The slight stretching and smearing of the hook from Eddie Murphy's "Party All the Time" across Quavo and Takeoff's rambunctious showcase is at least funny. Standard dancehall shot "These Streets Know My Name," adding the gazelle-like Skillibeng to the mix, is fine, while the standard R&B number, "Beautiful," verges on dreary with SZA outclassing duet partner Future. (SZA's "I took a flight for the Patek/You said, 'Bae, you're so dramatic' -- I guess" qualifies as the most ridiculous lyric on a Khaled LP.) Adding to the album's patched-together feel is a clunky Dr. Dre-produced remix of Jesus Is King track "Use This Gospel," containing a low-wattage Eminem appearance and a squirming dubstep outro.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

Dropping the Young from his name and turning on the full Jeezy, Church in These Streets finds the veteran Atlanta MC tackling the concept album while playing the role of an inner-city preacher. The title cut is also the LP's key cut as it bangs along with twerking Zaytoven production, and offers the album's main message for anyone caught in the drug game: "If you see another day, then just say 'Hallelujah!'" The track "Lost Souls" is a heavy triumph, sampling a bit of the movie Street Life before the lyrics declare that any time spent in jail is time spent breeding another monster, while later, the woozy and hooky banger "Scared of the Dark" skewers flashy gangsters for their unwillingness to do life's dirty work. By the time "Sister Good Game's Testimony" snarls all the weak and meek out of the trap house, it seems Jeezy's "Pastor Young" character comes with the toughest brand of love, but "I Feel Ya" ("You put your fam on your back, boy I feel ya/You put your hood on the map, boy I feel ya") is a sympathetic cut that broadens the album's spectrum. "Sweet Life" with Janelle Monae is the kind of high-flying, blue sky rap that Curren$y usually offers, and if that wasn't enough, it comes with a Psalm recited by Monica, who is playing the role of Sister Brown. Monica and Monae are the ambitious album's only guests, and when the highlight "God" hits the speakers, with its underground dubstep wobble and its rickety beats, Jeezy does a successful reach outside his comfort zone and winds up with a spell-binding cut. That said, when taking in a full album, his monotone, bellowing delivery is an acquired taste, and with only a few guest shots, plus a long track list, newcomers might find this big LP a tough go. Regardless, the ambitious Church in These Streets stands with the man's great Thug Motivation 101 while beating that album on artistic merit and meaningful lyrics. © David Jeffries /TiVo