Rhiannon Giddens' latest is a surprise and a delight—a mix of the mountain music we've come to expect from the Grammy winner but also a slew of solid gold soul. That new persona suits her very, very well, as Giddens turns into a funk diva for sassy opener "Too Little, Too Late, Too Bad"—a kiss-off to an ex trying to get back in. Bolstered by big, bright horns, shoop-shoop backing vocals and a feisty beat, Giddens growls her warning at "just an old dog with old tricks." Stirring, bass-throbbing "Wrong Kind of Right" picks up where Amy Winehouse tragically left off. And "You're the One" is a fascinating combo: Blending strutting soul and solid beats from producer Jack Splash, with Giddens' delicate banjo. The song breaks wide open at the chorus, then turns folky. Giddens isn't the only one having fun. Duet partner Jason Isbell positively cuts loose on "Yet to Be," a rootsy, Janis Joplin-style blues number that finds the two super-strong voices and personalities trading verses and weaving a rollicking harmony. The beats and horns turn ominous on "Another Wasted Life," a chronicle of brutality within America's justice and prison systems. "Doesn't matter what the crime/ If indeed there was the time/ He's given solitary time ... It's a torture of the soul/ The narrow confines of control/ Thrown down the stinking hole/ With no hope of release," Giddens sings. But she finds release, if not relief, chanting the title line of the chorus—setting off for a different stratosphere where she drags out the vocalizations. The second half of the record is more traditional, but in no way average or predictable. Giddens gets into mountain mischief on "You Louisiana Man," with trembling accordion from Dirk Powell, and sweetly lays down the law on "If You Don't Know How Sweet It Is," kicking back against a partner whining about tough steak, loud kids and unfolded laundry: "You're good, but I'll find better/ And it'll be without your bitching/ If you don't know how sweet it is/ Get on outta my kitchen!" "Hen in the Foxhouse" is sultry and playful, with a wild rhythm. Jazzy "You Put the Sugar in My Bowl" is old-timey flirtatious, and Giddens goes full Ella on the dreamy "Who Are You Dreaming Off," with its cymbal brushwork like an audio time portal. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Kacey Musgraves' sixth album, Deeper Well feels like a rewind—not just to her own earlier work, but to a folk-scene era from well before she was born. There are shades of the Mamas and the Papas and the early 1960s Cafe Wha? scene (the album was recorded blocks away, at Greenwich Village’s Electric Lady Studios). It’s not not country, but it’s also far from cowboy-hatted Nashville. Musgraves has described her last record—her "divorce album"—2021's Star-Crossed, as "more dramatic and acerbic, there were a lot more electronic instruments." This time, she's tuning into the world around her, but also trying to figure out the secrets of the cosmos. "My saturn has returned," she sings on the title track—a bit of classic singer-songwriter acoustic pluck that gently tumbles like water over creek rocks—before metaphorically shuddering at someone's "dark energy." Folk-naif "Heart of the Woods" marvels at nature "communicating through the roots of the trees." "I saw a sign or an omen," she declares on "Cardinal," a Hollies-esque number with 12-string guitar and a round-robin bridge. Musgraves has said it's about a real-life pattern of seeing birds and wondering if they were a sign from friend John Prine after the legend passed away in 2020. The bulk of the songs are written with her co-producers Ian Fitchuk, who worked on her last few records, and Daniel Tashian, who also helped out on 2018’s excellent Golden Hour. (It’s no stretch to imagine Star-Crossed never having happened and Deeper Well being the natural progression from Golden Hour.) "The Architect" is the only song here penned with her longtime writing partner Shane McAnally; and yes, it feels a bit more countrified than the others. Musgraves' Texas twang is strong as she questions "are there blueprints or plans?" to life. She adopts a particularly velvet timbre on moody cautionary tale "Lonely Millionaire," which interpolates the song "Kody Blu 31" by Atlanta rapper JID. "Too Good To Be True" borrows from Anna Nalick's "Breathe (2AM)," while "Heaven Is" reimagines a Scottish folk traditional. And Musgraves hasn't abandoned the rebel spirit that got her "Follow Your Arrow" banned from country radio in 2013. "Dinner With Friends" is a dreamy, free-floating gratitude list—"The feeling you feel when you're looking at something you made/ The layers and ruffles in my favorite pink champagne cake"—that calls out "My home state of Texas/ The sky there, the horses and dogs/ But none of their laws." There's not much dynamic range on Deeper Well; Musgraves is in a pleasantly pretty, low-key mood throughout. But there is one stand-out "what was that?!" moment at the bridge of "Anime Eyes," when the love song explodes in a whirlwind psychedelic bridge, as Musgraves breathlessly lets loose with a torrent of sensory emotion: "Ridiculous hazy, crazy, rainbow, explosions of ecstasy ... Happy tears overflowing, lightning bolts so overwhelming!" It's wild and free and DGAF. The album ends, tellingly, on a line from the song of the same name: "Nothing to be scared of." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

As on their 2006 covers album Yeah!, British hard rock giants Def Leppard make a surprisingly enjoyable meal out of what is usually a predictable exercise. Drastic Symphonies is not an album of new material, nor even entirely new recordings. A collaboration with London's Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, it's a symphonic reimagining of 16 career-spanning songs, including well-known hits and a smattering of deep cuts. Blending their original multi-track recordings with new overdubs to fit the theme, Drastic Symphonies is a pastiche of new and old ideas that, more often than not, reflects the sturdy pop construction on which their career was built. There was always a bit of romantic grandeur to Def Leppard's strain of lush glam metal, especially on early classics like "Too Late for Love" and "Bringin' On the Heartbreak," both of which get full orchestral treatment here. Joe Elliott, still in fine voice, can often be heard singing new leads atop the giant stacks of Mutt Lange-produced harmonies that became their '80s hallmark. Some songs are significantly altered, with only the occasional guitar solo poking out, while others sound very close to their original mixes, albeit with a bit of melodic sweetening from one of the world's great orchestras. The dense and swirling "Paper Sun," from 1999's Euphoria, is a highlight, punching up Def Leppard's original into something more thrilling and cinematic, and their 1987 smash "Animal" is practically built for the kind of pomp it receives here. Of course, any project like this is a mixed bag, and ironically, their biggest hit is Drastic Symphonies' biggest misfire. Naturally, they had to include "Pour Some Sugar on Me," but its stripped-down romantic duet arrangement falls flat without its glammy fizz. Overall, though, the band comes off much better than expected.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

Skrillex has been making waves in the industry since his third EP Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites was released in 2010. While some may have taken a while to warm up to his genre-defining first full-length release, Recess, Skrillex has proven that he is still at the top of his game with his long awaited second album, Quest For Fire, which comes nine years after that debut. While some may view this as a comeback, Skrillex's intentions are not to prove himself to anyone but instead to showcase his evolution as an artist, demonstrating that he remains one of the biggest names in the electronic music scene.Quest For Fire is an impressive display of Skrillex's musical prowess, featuring collaborations with twenty-five eclectic guests across fifteen tracks: Four Tet, Missy Elliott, Dylan Brady (100 gecs), Nai Barghouti, Fred again.., and Flowdan. The result is a mixed bag of goods and, although it seemingly does not follow an overarching throughline, the lack of cohesion is precisely what makes it so unique. The opener "Leave Me Like This" is a catchy song that sets the tone for what is to come. As the album progresses, Skrillex continues to surprise listeners with unexpected genre blends, noise-elements and wild drops. Standout tracks include "RATATA" with Missy Elliot and the dark and jarring "Tears" with producer Joker. Skrillex's ability to fuse unrelated musical ideas results in an incoherent yet exhilarating listening experience that keeps listeners on their toes. While some tracks may feel like filler when compared to the big hits, it's his unconventional approach to music production that creates an impressive showcase of his musical range and skill.The penultimate track "Hazel Theme," which is the only solo track, attempts to find a moment of solace before flowing into "Still Here (with the ones that I came with)." The album's final moments give listeners a sense of closure, a feeling that they've been on a wild musical roller coaster with Skrillex and are now coming back to reality. Quest For Fire proves that Skrillex remains a force to be reckoned with, a testament to his position as one of the biggest names in the industry. And it's a reminder that he has always been here and is going nowhere; this is a must-listen for Skrillex fans and anyone who appreciates innovative and unconventional electronic music. © Jessica Porter-Langson/Qobuz

An explosive debut, and the hardest mod pop recorded by anyone. At the time of its release, it also had the most ferociously powerful guitars and drums yet captured on a rock record. Pete Townshend's exhilarating chord crunches and guitar distortions threaten to leap off the grooves on "My Generation" and "Out in the Street"; Keith Moon attacks the drums with a lightning, ruthless finesse throughout. Some "Maximum R&B" influence lingered in the two James Brown covers, but much of Townshend's original material fused Beatlesque hooks and power chords with anthemic mod lyrics, with "The Good's Gone," "Much Too Much," "La La La Lies," and especially "The Kids Are Alright" being highlights. "A Legal Matter" hinted at more ambitious lyrical concerns, and "The Ox" was instrumental mayhem that pushed the envelope of 1965 amplification with its guitar feedback and nonstop crashing drum rolls. While the execution was sometimes crude, and the songwriting not as sophisticated as it would shortly become, the Who never surpassed the pure energy level of this record.© Richie Unterberger /TiVo

Released four years after the multi-platinum Unorthodox Jukebox, 24K Magic -- or XXIVK Magic, if you're foolish enough to go by the cover -- might as well be considered the full-length sequel to "Uptown Funk," Bruno Mars' 2014 hit collaboration with Mark Ronson. On his third album, Mars, joined primarily by old comrades Philip Lawrence, Brody Brown, and James Fauntleroy, sheds the reggae and new wave inspirations and goes all-out R&B. This is less an affected retro-soul pastiche -- like, say, The Return of Bruno -- than it is an amusing '80s-centric tribute to black radio. Sonically, '80s here means the gamut and the aftershocks felt the following decade, from the sparking midtempo groove in "Chunky," which recalls Shalamar even more than album two's "Treasure," to some full-blooded new jack swing moves. The clock is turned back a couple more decades to passable strutting James Brown-isms in "Perm," while "Too Good to Say Goodbye," co-written by Babyface, draws its structure and certain components from early-'70s Philly soul. Almost all of the material involves Mars in winking bad-boy player mode. He's often just ampin' like Bobby, yet the performances are undeniable, dealt out with all the determination and attitude of a kid who just bought a custom lavender Razz with his paper route money. Lead single "24K Magic" is a scrupulous compound of early-'80s funk tricks, another needed injection of good-time energy into commercial airwaves, but the album's true triumph is buried near the end -- not that it takes long to get there -- and scrapes the dawn of the '90s. In living color, decked out with a rattling breakbeat and zipping bassline, "Finesse" revisits the era when producers like Teddy Riley, Dave "Jam" Hall, and Dr. Freeze pushed their genre forward by fusing hip-hop to what they learned from electronic post-disco R&B pioneered by Leon Sylvers III, Kashif, and Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis. Like much of what precedes it, the song is a blast. Those who want their rich and modern synthesizer funk minus flash would do well to seek Bugz in the Attic's "Consequences," Dâm-Funk's "Galactic Fun," Amalia's "Welcome to Me," and Anderson Paak's "Am I Wrong," for starters.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

For all those who have never quite recovered from Transistor Radio, one of his best albums undoubtedly (now 20 years old!), M. Ward has some good news. “I see this new album as a continuation [of Transistor Radio]”, he says. We’re therefore tuning in to Supernatural Thing with as much attention as it deserves. Calling upon the soft melodic melancholy, as reminiscent of the Beach Boys as it is of JJ Cale’s cool country tones and Jonathan Richman’s highly minimalistic style, the American songwriter continues along the alternative routes of American folk and pop. David Bowie and Daniel Johnston, (who he covers on Supernatural Thing), and many others, have also been sources of inspiration for the artist, but upon arrival, M. Ward only sounds like himself; with his threadbare velvet voice filtered through an old microphone, his pretty guitars, his dreamy production chemistry, and his tasteful guests. He duets with the likes of Neko Case, First Aid Kit, Jim James, and Shovels & Rope. His songs are rooted in 20th century Americana (including jazz and pop), yet they cast off on their own voyage. It’s almost as if they are crackling out of an abandoned vintage Cadillac’s car radio, or reaching our ears at the exact moment when we are about to fall into a dream. It’s like hearing a film soundtrack that you know you love, but can’t remember it for the life of you. M. Ward is an impressionistic magician, recycling and transforming music from the past into memory flashes, sensory memory experiments, and auricular persistence. Or, quite simply, great records which are as discreet as they are endearing. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

One of the most recognisable voices to have emerged from the UK garage scene in the nineties and noughties, The Streets frontman Mike Skinner's last decade or so has been marked by ups and downs. A six-year drought followed the band's fifth—and at the time, final—album, Computers and Blues (2011), after which the project was revived as something of a legacy act, releasing only the occasional single or collaboration, and one full-length: the None Of Us Are Getting Out Of This Life Alive (2020) mixtape. In 2023, the result of Skinner's silent labors have at last seen the light of day, via The Darker The Shadow The Brighter The Light, an album and identically titled indie film-noir and murder mystery musical. Where many fall victim to the routine inertia which comes with writing an album, touring it, and eventually tiring of it, this new, hybrid release represents far more than a mere snapshot of a couple of years of creativity. It is the culmination of seven or more years of hard graft, which saw Skinner take on the role of producer, rapper, director, actor, screenwriter—everything necessary to bring the album and its accompanying film into being … and all in the absence of external funding. "It's been an obsession ... I kind of did everything myself so it just didn't stop, really. The tunnel was very long, very dark, and there was no light—apart from a train, maybe," he has shared.As far as the format goes, there's nothing new under the sun here. Indeed, the filmic aspect should come as no surprise to Streets fans given the conceptual similarity to A Grand Don't Come For Free (2004), an album which also flirted with portraying a movie-like narrative over its course. What stands out with this project is Skinner's unrelenting commitment to seeing through his highly ambitious artistic designs, no matter the cost or consequence. His instinct for storytelling and nose for excitement in the seemingly everyday both resonate across the fifteen tracks, the sound of which picks up right where the band left off: garage, bassline, and drum and bass beats set the pace for characteristically unfussy, in-your-face riffs and Skinner's dry, Brummie delivery.The Darker The Shadow The Brighter The Light exceeds even the most daring aspirations of its creator, and will surely go down as a fan favourite in the band's discography. Have a break, Mike—you've definitely earned it this time. © Finn Kverndal/Qobuz

Since Full Moon Fever was an unqualified commercial and critical success, perhaps it made sense that Tom Petty chose to follow its shiny formula when he reunited with the Heartbreakers for its follow-up, Into the Great Wide Open. Nevertheless, the familiarity of Into the Great Wide Open is something of a disappointment. The Heartbreakers' sound has remained similar throughout their career, but they had never quite repeated themselves until here. Technically, it isn't a repeat, since they weren't credited on Full Moon, but Wide Open sounds exactly like Full Moon, thanks to Jeff Lynne's overly stylized production. Again, it sounds like a cross between latter-day ELO and roots rock (much like the Traveling Wilburys, in that sense), but the production has become a touch too careful and precise, bordering on the sterile at times. And, unfortunately, the quality of the songwriting doesn't match Full Moon or Let Me Up (I've Had Enough). That's not to say that it rivals the uninspired Long After Dark, since Petty was a better craftsman in 1991 than he was in 1983. There are a number of minor gems -- "Learning to Fly," "Kings Highway," "Into the Great Wide Open" -- but there are no knockouts, either; it's like Full Moon Fever if there were only "Apartment Song"s and no "Free Fallin'"s. In other words, enough for a pleasant listen, but not enough to resonate like his best work. (And considering this, perhaps it wasn't surprising that Petty chose to change producers and styles on his next effort, the solo Wildflowers.)© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

After two albums of muted, mature jazz-inflected pop, the last being an explicit album about death, Sting created his first unapologetically pop album since the Police with Ten Summoner's Tales. The title, a rather awkward pun on his given last name, is significant, since it emphasizes that this album is a collection of songs, without any musical conceits or lyrical concepts tying it together. And, frankly, that's a bit of a relief after the oppressively somber The Soul Cages and the hushed though lovely, Nothing Like the Sun. Sting even loosens up enough to crack jokes, both clever (the winking litany of celebrity pains of "Epilogue [Nothing 'Bout Me]") and condescending (the sneeringly catchy cowboy tale "Love Is Stronger Than Justice [The Munificent Seven]"), and the result is his best solo record. In places, it's easily as pretentious as his earlier work, but that's undercut by writing that hasn't been this sharp and melodic since the Police, plus his most varied set of songs since Synchronicity. True, there isn't a preponderance of flat-out classics -- only the surging opener "If I Ever Lose My Faith in You," the understated swing of "It's Probably Me," and the peaceful ballad "Fields of Gold" rank as classics -- but, as an album, Ten Summoner's Tales is more consistently satisfying than anything else in his catalog.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Brothers Osborne—siblings TJ and John, and their band—are in their adult-contemporary era on their fourth album, and that's not a boring thing. Nor is it criticism to call "Who Says You Can't Have Everything" smooth, easy listening country. "We Ain't Good at Breaking Up" brings along Miranda Lambert for a Fleetwood Mac-ish slow-burn. "Love You Too" melds Alabama's trad-country and Southern rock with the grandiosity of Kings of Leon. The brothers from Maryland sound confident and sure of their place in contemporary Nashville, which is important considering that TJ came out in 2021, making him the first major country star who is openly gay. You can't help but read a bit of pride in the ass-shaking Southern rock of "Might As Well Be Me": "Somebody gotta shake things up/ Somebody gotta shut things down/ Somebody gotta strike a match/ Break the ice and buy the first round." Maybe it's about his history-making declaration or maybe, at face value, it's about getting the party started, but the song makes the most of TJ's signature baritone twang, layering on revving guitar and an on-fire solo from John. TJ's voice is rich as ever on the album's sole ballad, melancholy-sounding love song "Rollercoaster (Forever and a Day)", with its message of how opposites attract and complement. "New Bad Habit," meanwhile, finds him pushing smoldering temptation and bad-boy flirtation alongside Stonesy guitar: "I want to be your pack a day ... I want to be your 90 proof … can't quit cold and you can't rehab it." TJ has long had a habit of singing about vice as a metaphor—for relationships, for humility (getting effed up and effing up), for a good time—and there's no shortage of that here. Kissed by a bit of dub and R&B, "Goodbye's Kicking In" explores how break-up regrets hit "like that first cigarette, like that second shot of whiskey." And "Sun Ain't Even Gone Down Yet," with its bluesy honky-tonk riff, is an ode to day drinking: "We were already high noon high/ If a cold libation's any indication/ We're gonna have a hell of a night." Some things never change, and TJ makes it clear on '80s-rich "Nobody's Nobody" that he wants the music to speak for itself: "Some people never ever make a name/ But change the game in someone's story/ I'm still tryna leave my mark/ With a simple song and an old guitar/ One thing I've learned out on the road is/ Nobody's nobody."  © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

After two albums of muted, mature jazz-inflected pop, the last being an explicit album about death, Sting created his first unapologetically pop album since the Police with Ten Summoner's Tales. The title, a rather awkward pun on his given last name, is significant, since it emphasizes that this album is a collection of songs, without any musical conceits or lyrical concepts tying it together. And, frankly, that's a bit of a relief after the oppressively somber The Soul Cages and the hushed though lovely, Nothing Like the Sun. Sting even loosens up enough to crack jokes, both clever (the winking litany of celebrity pains of "Epilogue [Nothing 'Bout Me]") and condescending (the sneeringly catchy cowboy tale "Love Is Stronger Than Justice [The Munificent Seven]"), and the result is his best solo record. In places, it's easily as pretentious as his earlier work, but that's undercut by writing that hasn't been this sharp and melodic since the Police, plus his most varied set of songs since Synchronicity. True, there isn't a preponderance of flat-out classics -- only the surging opener "If I Ever Lose My Faith in You," the understated swing of "It's Probably Me," and the peaceful ballad "Fields of Gold" rank as classics -- but, as an album, Ten Summoner's Tales is more consistently satisfying than anything else in his catalog.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Since the release of his last non-mixtape/non-collaboration album in 2013, Drake has solidified his position as a pop music icon, scaling the charts, dominating gossip columns, and generally living the good life. Or so it seems. 2016's Views is another in a string of dour transmissions from the dark night of Drake's soul. As before, he casts himself as both the melancholy bachelor looking out over the city from his penthouse manor, and the criminally underrated rap genius demanding his due, and it's one album too many for both personas. He's already delved deeply into his insecurities, lambasted all his exes, and displayed his fierce self-pride, never shying away from telling everyone exactly where he started and how far he's come. Frankly, it's become as boring and annoying as a needle stuck in a groove. No matter how ably the production casts his raps and ballads in the best possible light, no matter how well the frequent use of chopped and swirled samples from '90s R&B songs fit in the mix, no matter that the occasional song rises up from the narrative and makes a splash, the album is a meandering, dreary rehash of what Drake has done before in much better fashion. Of the songs that stand out, his uptempo, Caribbean-flavored duet with Rihanna ("Too Good") is the most enjoyable; "One Dance," another song with a Jamaican dancehall feel, is another fun track. Still, these poppy moments feature Drake as the wounded lover, being treated poorly yet again. A few other tracks connect, like the almost light-hearted "Feel No Ways," which makes good use of a stuttering Malcolm McLaren sample or, of course, the hugely catchy hit song "Hotline Bling." The nostalgic "Weston Road Flows" comes close, with the great Mary J. Blige sample running through the track, but stumbles when Drake name drops Katy Perry and brags about wrecking marriages. The track, like so many others made up of over-blown boasts, seems to be fighting a battle that was won long ago. Drake has not only arrived, he's taken over. And if he's never going to get the same respect that someone like Chance the Rapper gets, making records as self-pitying and self-serving as Views isn't going to do much to further Drake's career artistically, either. Basically, Drake needs to lighten up and add some new colors to the paintbox, whether it’s songs about something other than his bummer love life (like the good times before the inevitable breakup), or the fabulous things that come from all the money and fame he never lets anyone forget he's accrued. Eventually, people will get tired of the same old song if it's sung too often. On Views, Drake is starting to sound a little weary of it himself.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

The voice of a generation. We pinned it to Bob Dylan who didn't want to hear about it... Anaïs Oluwatoyin Estelle Marinho alias Arlo Parks reacted in the same way when we labelled her the spokesperson of Generation Z (those born between 1997 and 2010) after Super Sad Generation, her 2019 EP. Once we move on from this marketing punchline, we can begin to savour Collapsed in Sunbeams, a brilliant debut album that slaloms between R'n'B, light pop and neo trip hop. This is without doubt the deepest record of early 2021... Before writing songs, the Londoner of Chadian, French and Nigerian origin mainly wrote poetry. A big fan of Sylvia Plath, Ginsberg and Nabokov, she was quickly drawn into writing, telling stories (often her own) even before setting them to music. With its title plucked from the pages of Zadie Smith's novel, On Beauty, Collapsed in Sunbeams emphasises Parks' literary passion, which she has now completely turned to music. She tackles break-up (Caroline), unrequited love (Eugene) and addiction (Hurt) with finesse and acuity. Her bittersweet melodies confront often melancholic, sometimes sad lyrics with natural pop energy and a hypnotic voice reminiscent of Martina Topley-Bird (Tricky's ex-girlfriend), Lily Allen (a fan) or Jorja Smith. At only 20 years old, Arlo Parks is the flavor of the month and is likely to be in the limelight for many years to come. A true revelation. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz