Three Worlds – Music from Woolf Works presents music from Woolf Works, an award-winning ballet triptych that reunited Max Richter with his Infra collaborator, choreographer Wayne McGregor. Like Infra, which paid tribute to T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land and Schubert's Winterreise, Woolf Works is an homage to three of Virginia Woolf's greatest novels: Mrs. Dalloway, Orlando, and The Waves. And, like his previous collaboration with McGregor, Three Worlds is a striking testament to how eloquently Richter translates the work of an artist working in another medium into compelling music. As he captures the depth and breadth of the worlds Woolf created with her writing, he reflects on his own body of work. Following an excerpt of "Craftsmanship," the only surviving recording of Woolf's voice (and another reminder of how deftly Richter combines spoken word and found sounds into his music), Three Worlds begins with Dalloway-inspired pieces. The interplay of strings and piano on "Meeting Again" is quintessentially Richter, the tension between structure and aching emotions echoing his breakthrough The Blue Notebooks; meanwhile, the flowing sweetness of "In the Garden"is filled with as many poignant details as the novel that inspired it. Later, "War Anthem" evokes the novel's tragic World War I veteran Septimus Smith with its distant -- but still ominous -- drums. Richter's flair for incorporating electronics into his music comes to the fore on the Orlando portion of Three Worlds, arguably the album's most exciting stretch. He echoes the daring, unexpected life of the novel's gender-swapping protagonist with short, brisk pieces that move with too much purpose to be merely whimsical: "Modular Astronomy" sounds like it's streaking through time and space, while the arpeggios on "The Genesis of Poetry" trace clearly defined arcs. The Orlando pieces also show off Richter's impressive range, spanning the echoing drones of "Morphology" and the elegantly futuristic mesh of electronics and strings on "The Explorers." This part of Three Worlds could easily be an album in its own right, something that could also be said of its final section, The Waves. Prefaced by a reading of Woolf's suicide note by Gillian Anderson, "Tuesday" closes the album with slowly unfolding strings, brass, and vocals that are somehow unsettling in their steadiness, mirroring the concept of shared consciousness in the novel. While the album's finale may lose something without the ballet's visuals, it's still striking. Coming after the epic length and ambition of Sleep, Three Worlds could seem like a more minor work, but in its own right, it's another triumphant reminder of Richter's brilliance as a translator and creator.© Heather Phares /TiVo

On Tyranny and Mutation, Blue Öyster Cult achieved the seemingly impossible: they brightened their sound and deepened their mystique. The band picked up their tempos considerably on this sophomore effort, and producers Sandy Pearlman and Murray Krugman added a lightning bolt of high-end sonics to their frequency range. Add to this the starling lyrical contributions of Pearlman, rock critic Richard Meltzer, and poet-cum-rocker Patti Smith (who was keyboardist Allen Lanier's girlfriend at the time), the split imagery of Side One's thematic, "The Red" and Side Two's "The Black," and the flip-to-wig-city, dark conspiracy of Gawlik's cover art, and an entire concept was not only born and executed, it was received. The Black side of Tyranny and Mutation is its reliance on speed, punched-up big guitars, and throbbing riffs such as in "The Red and the Black," "O.D'd on Life Itself," "Hot Rails to Hell," and "7 Screaming Diz-Busters," all of which showcased the biker boogie taken to a dizzyingly extreme boundary; one where everything flies by in a dark blur, and the articulations of that worldview are informed as much by atmosphere as idea. This is screaming, methamphetamine-fueled rock & roll that was all about attitude, mystery, and a sense of nihilistic humor that was deep in the cuff. Here was the crossroads: the middle of rock's Bermuda triangle where BÖC marked the black cross of the intersection between New York's other reigning kings of mystery theater and absurd excess: the Velvet Underground and Kiss -- two years before their first album -- and the " 'it's all F#$&%* so who gives a rat's ass" attitude that embodied the City's punk chic half-a-decade later. On the Red Side, beginning with the syncopated striations of "Baby Ice Dog," in which Allen Lanier's piano was as important as Buck Dharma's guitar throb, elements of ambiguity and bluesy swagger enter into the mix. Eric Bloom was the perfect frontman: he twirled the words around in his mouth before spitting them out with requisite piss-and-vinegar, and a sense of decadent dandy that underscored the music's elegance, as well as its power. He was at ease whether the topic was necromancy, S&M, apocalyptic warfare, or cultural dissolution. By the LP's end, on "Mistress of the Salmon Salt," Bloom was being covered over by a kind of aggressively architected psychedelia that kept the '60s at bay while embracing the more aggressive, tenser nature of the times. While BÖC's Secret Treaties is widely recognized as the Cult's classic album, one would do well to consider Tyranny and Mutation in the same light.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Bruce Dickinson has been one of (if not the) leading voice of heavy metal -- possessing one of the genre's most instantly recognizable singing styles (there's a reason why they used to call him 'the Air Raid Siren'). Reuniting with Iron Maiden in the late '90s, Dickinson's solo career took a back seat as a result of non-stop recording and gigging. But with Maiden taking a break after their tour in support of Dance of Death wrapped up, Dickinson was finally left with enough time to work on his first solo recording in seven years. Hooking up once more with co-collaborator, guitarist, and producer Roy Z, Tyranny of Souls signals Dickinson's solo return. Expectedly, Dickinson's Maiden roots run deep, and quite a few songs resemble the style of his full-time band -- especially "Mars Within" and "Power of the Sun." But there are other times where Dickinson injects styles that wouldn't fit on a Maiden record -- a piano breakdown in "Kill Devil Hill" and the acoustic guitar- and voice-driven ditty, "Navigate the Seas of the Sun." Also, it must be said that Dickinson's voice is as strong as ever -- years of road and studio work have not diminished his skills in the slightest. Tyranny of Souls will satisfy the appetites of most Maiden fans until their next album appears.© Greg Prato /TiVo

In interviews before the release of In Cauda Venenum, Mikael Åkerfeldt, Opeth's vocalist, guitarist, and chief songwriter, stated that "heaviness" was an aesthetic rather than a sound, to explain why he had abandoned death metal. Beginning with 2011's Heritage, Opeth made a conscious shift toward progressive rock that has, as evidenced here, become pervasive. This set is their first to be issued in English and Swedish editions. Sonically and musically, the album contains musical and production traits already evident on Heritage and Sorceress -- and to a lesser degree, on Pale Communion -- as organs, synths, Mellotron, acoustic guitars, syncopated rhythms, strings, choirs, and key changes are crafted into the band's two-guitar-bass-drum attack. But where the previous three studio albums were rife with experimentation, In Cauda Venenum is focused on a cohesively pre-arranged whole. It may be the fourth entry in their progressive evolution, but it's their first to deliver the full realization of the band's potential.These ten songs are laden with lush textures, painstakingly crafted melodies, unapologetic gothic overtones, startling dynamics, and visceral presence. Opeth may deliberately borrow inspiration from many sources, but they aren’t trying to re-create them. The band recorded at Park Studios in Stockholm with all-analog gear and a goal: "to be as epic as possible." While set-opener "The Garden of Earthly Delights" is a three-and-a-half-minute Gothic intro; the first tune proper, "Dignity," is heavy as hell, with multi-tracked wordless choral choruses, swirling organs and Mellotron, sampled spoken voices, sound effects, popping drums, and spiky lead guitars. Its intense opening section gives way to fingerpicked acoustic, gently sung lyrics, and textural atmospherics before roaring back into riff-laden hard rock. "Heart on Hand," the other advance track, commences with a guitar-and-bass riff right out of "Immigrant Song," framing the cleanest, most emotionally resonant vocals in Åkerfeldt's career before swirling into instrumental chaos and transforming itself into a lilting ballad in the final third. There are brutal moments here, too, in angular jams like "Charlatan," with its overdriven, filthy bassline. "Universal Truth" alternates between folk-inflected prog and spidery hard rock. The moody classical guitar and piano intro to "The Garroter" gives way to spooky, swinging dark jazz. While the sprightly keyboard and strummed guitar vamp on "Continuum" are a sinister musical perversity, they circle toward spiraling prog metal with the vocal and rhythmic section syncopations of Yes, then unwind into moody pastoral, poly-harmonic, folk-inflected Gothic rock. Though it emerges slowly, there is a biting crackle in the sweeping majesty of closer "All Things Pass." Åkerfeldt's and Fredrik Åkesson's guitars spiral and slash in a loss-saturated vibe colored by swirling organ, Mellotron, and crashing tom-toms, as Opeth buoy the singer whose lyric is drenched in loss and grief. On In Cauda Venenum, Opeth have thoroughly revisioned prog rock for the 21st century. While there are referents to the past, they have merely been folded into a brand of heavy music that reflects not progressive rock's history, but Opeth's enduring, evolving image.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

In spite of straying so far from its black metal roots as to almost seem a completely different band at times, Dimmu Borgir still packs a powerful punch on Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia. New guitarist Galder (formerly of Old Man's Child) nicely infuses more traditional metallic mannerisms, but the addition of drummer Nicholas Barker (Cradle of Filth and Lock Up) is critical. His always-punishing percussive prowess allows the seamless melding of speedy black metal with considerably more orchestration, this time around provided by the Gothenburg Opera Orchestra itself, creating a cacophony of nefarious melodies atop gothic gloom. "Puritania" is indicative of something the band probably would never have tried even a few years ago, a stirring descant with a myriad of vocal styles seemingly coming from all directions. A minority of purists might see this as too much of a departure, a complaint that would have more merit if Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia wasn't as exquisite as it is diverse. The Japanese edition features a bonus CD with two tracks, including a cheeky cover of Twisted Sister's "Burn in Hell" and two videos. © Brian O'Neill /TiVo

Shadow Gallery's third album is a concept album about a defense worker's search for meaning after becoming disenchanted with his job. The music is somewhat softer than it was on Carved in Stone, but has much the same sound and the same intricate production. Guest vocalists James LaBrie of Dream Theater and DC Cooper of Royal Hunt add their talents to this album. As with other Shadow Gallery albums, this album features a good mix of fast and slow and long and short songs. Everything on the album is well written, performed and produced. The featured tracks of the album would seem to be the two longest, "I Believe" and "New World Order" which feature LaBrie and Cooper, respectively. However, Tyranny is an album that flows so well that it's difficult to think of songs individually.© David White /TiVo

Anatolian lo-fi samba, sung in English, French and Turkish! With such a colourful program, Mantra Moderne is poised to be summer 2019’s most iconic album. This indie-world soundtrack is the lovechild of duo Kit Sebastian. Kit Martin, the one-man-bedroom-band, lives between London and Paris, writing and performing the songs on this first album over which his accomplice Merve Erdem lays her voice. The singer from Istanbul cast her anchor in the British capital. These days it seems unexpected stylistic fusions are all the rage, and Mantra Moderne is the flag bearer for that trend. From Brazilian tropicalism to 60s British pop, and turkish psychedelics to analog electronica, Kit Sebastian like to sift through 20th century music just as Stereolab, Broadcast and Khruangbin did before them. Their cabinet of curiosities includes acoustic and analog instruments, tablas, darbukas, a balalaïka, an oud, a Korg MS-20 and a Farfisa organ. The pair crafts a deliciously minimalistic symphony. It’s mischievous, and oh-so-sixties: The most exotic Qobuzissime of the year! © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

As the Strokes' music became more regimented, Julian Casablancas' work outside the band became more unpredictable. His solo debut Phrazes for the Young -- which arrived shortly before the Strokes' polished comeback Angles -- was fascinating in its freewheeling disregard for stylistic boundaries, pop song lengths, and anything that came too close to the work of his main band. Tyranny follows the Strokes' meticulously crafted 2013 album Comedown Machine, and working with his new band the Voidz, Casablancas pushed himself to make something even more uncompromising than Phrazes. For better or worse, he succeeded: drawing inspiration from his love of classic hardcore punk like Black Flag and his frustration with 21st century politics, he avoids the common pitfall of protest music -- heavy-handed singer/songwriter fare -- in favor of songs that veer between sludgy thrashing and murky synth noodling. Tyranny's willfully noisy production blunts the impact of Casablancas' anger: while "Crunch Punch" mentions "evangelicals" and "the creepiest god in the sky," it's often hard to tell exactly who his targets are. The lo-fi affectations become wearying on the album's more expansive songs -- of which there are plenty, since Tyranny is over an hour long. However, it's even more frustrating that there are flashes of brilliance on almost every track, like "Father Electricity"'s wild percussion and tropical guitar, the Middle Eastern leanings of "Dare I Care"'s melody and rhythms, or "Xerox"'s loping hip-hop beat and keyboards. It's just that these flashes don't always ignite into something that matches Casablancas' ambitions. When things do come together, the results are oddly powerful. Casablancas remains a remarkably charismatic singer and gifted melodicist, and these assets shine on "Nintendo Blood"'s gritty synth pop and the punky "Where No Eagles Fly." Then there's the 11-minute "Human Sadness," which, despite its massive length, is the album's most accessible, memorable song thanks to the emotion in Casablancas' processed vocalizing, which bridges the track's shifts from retro synths to glistening riffs. Intriguing but muddled, Tyranny puts plenty of musical distance between Casablancas and the Strokes, but too often it lacks the clarity to be anything but challenging in the wrong ways.© Heather Phares /TiVo