There are words that inevitably come to mind with a new Foo Fighters record: pummeling, shredded, heavy. But the band's 11th album, But Here We Are, also bears the weight of grief. The release date marks just over a year since the shocking death of the band's seminal drummer Taylor Hawkins while on tour. "Someone said I'll never see your face again/ Part of me just can't believe it's true/ Pictures of us sharing songs and cigarettes/ This is how I'll always picture you," leader Dave Grohl (who, no surprise, also handles drumming duty this time around) sings on "Under You," a glorious power-pop blast of anguish—the best kind of tribute to a musician who was unparalleled in his explosive joy. But there's more confusion than sentimentality on the album, which teams the band once again with producer Greg Kurstin and is dedicated to both Hawkins and Grohl's mother, who also died in 2022. "I've been hearing voices, none of them are you," Grohl sings on the slinky, mysterious "Hearing Voices," boasting a killer bass line from Nate Mendel. "Where are you now?/ Who'll show me how," he wonders on "Show Me How," moody in the vein of Mendel's old band Sunny Day Real Estate and featuring duet vocals by Grohl's teenage daughter Violet. "I'll take care of everything from now on," he resolves by the end. And then there is "The Teacher," an ambitious 10-minute toss-and-turn dream. "Who's at the door now?/ Wake up," Grohl sings, his drums pounding like someone at the door with bad news as he howls "wake up" over and over. There is excellently mercurial guitar work by Chris Shiflett and a haunted break—"You showed me how to grieve/ Will you show me how to say goodbye?"—before the whole thing breaks down into static. Kicking in with fury and working its way to a headbanging, heart-pumping build, opener "Rescued" is an instant classic along the lines of "Everlong" or "The Pretender." The band delves into power ballads with "The Glass" and  "Beyond Me." And "Nothing at All" is an intriguing surprise, the verses adorned with rocksteady two-tone guitar blasts and slippery-smooth bass before it all turns into raw screamo, its chorus a hair-pulling tantrum: "Everything or nothing at all!" It all ends with "Rest," a stripped-down heartbreaker about putting a loved one to rest: "Laying in your favorite clothes/ Chosen just for you," Grohl sings, sounding so vulnerable without the usual flash and squall. It's almost impossible to imagine how they'll get through playing these songs live, but with the release comes relief. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

January is barely ending, and here we already have one of the finest albums of 2024. The triumvirate formed by the two geniuses of Radiohead, Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood, and Sons Of Kemet's drummer, Tom Skinner, under the banner of The Smile, wastes no time. Exactly one year after their surprise revelation on the Glastonbury livestream (thanks to the pandemic) in 2021, the trio released their first full-length album, A Light For Attracting Attention. With it, the complex and fascinating universe of the Oxford quintet is finally revisited—minus Colin Greenwood, Ed O’Brien, and Phil Selway—while gaining grandeur through the strings of the London Contemporary Orchestra, already at work in 2016 on Radiohead's A Moon Shaped Pool, as well as the most prominent brass and winds from the London jazz scene (including Chelsea Charmichael and Robert Stillman).More compact, Wall Of Eyes lets warmth in. Opening the way with only seven other tracks, the title track teleports us to the tropics with its bossa acoustic guitar and Yorke's reverberating vocals. The smooth synths of a nearly R&B "Teleharmonic" follow, leading to the riffs of "Read The Room" and "Under The Pillows," creating a trippy rock passage. We then enter the dreamy piano ballad "Friend Of A Friend" and almost drown in the synthetic layers of "I Quit" before the deluge of distortions in the eight-minute "Bendic Hectic" explodes after an anxiety-inducing violin ascent. "You Know Me!" draws the curtain with the gentle piano, providing a final that's as cinematic as ever. Recorded at the legendary Abbey Road studios, with Sam Petts-Davies taking the place of the faithful producer Nigel Godrich, this second album showcases a trio in full alchemy, increasingly inspired by Can rather than the Beatles, and completely seasoned by their live shows. A masterpiece. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

We can’t say we didn’t know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard. Just as we can’t dispute that Lana Del Rey has become (or has always been, for those who had already figured this out) an essential figure in American music. With this ninth album with such a long title, Lana Del Rey remains in her Californian Ophelia character, floating tragically and romantically on the surface of a Hollywood pool. Her songs are slow and rather long, often devoid of choruses or pop gimmicks. Her sensual yet detached vocals are enhanced by minimalist arrangements with most of the songs having a few piano notes and even a few strings. Melancholy is a solitary pleasure, a way of living or at least not dying, in which Lana Del Rey is an expert. It seems that since 2021, and the Chemtrails Over the Country Club album, the singer has had long COVID. Although this languishing vibe is something that has been present in her music for much longer. On the surface there’s lethargy and introspection, even monotony because of the album’s 16-track length, but there’s no disappointment to be found here. It’s a record that you can listen to in private, ideally without disturbance. It leads you down a tunnel which, under the surface, is full of twists and turns, grey areas, echoes and suggestions. The signature track is A&W, which begins as a simple folk ballad and shifts into the realms of experimental hip-hop in the middle. When she lends herself to contemporary pop infused with hip-hop, Lana Del Rey has the good sense not to abuse her craft, to steer her voice clear of autotune. She is a singer whose name belongs among the greats (in no particular order: Kate Bush, Fiona Apple, Carole King, Laura Nyro, Agnes Obel, Joni Mitchell etc.) but who digs tunnels to escape – or hide. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

This fifth studio album by Kate Bush is often considered one of her masterpieces. The themes explored and the general atmosphere on Hounds of Love once again demonstrate the singer-songwriter’s intelligence, especially in the subtle way she mixes darkness with lightness. The single Running Up That Hill - a huge hit in 1985 - perfectly testifies to this, as Kate Bush suggests how men and women could resolve their differences by walking in each other’s shoes ("And if I only could/I'd make a deal with God/And I'd get him to swap our places"). The driving electronic drums that envelop the song illustrate the singer's never-ending optimism despite the melancholic-tinged melody.Bush’s ambivalence is also palpable on The Big Sky, a song that is innocent and dark in equal measure. Musically speaking, the album echoes her double vision since we find Kate Bush’s beloved synths (especially the Fairlight) mixed with acoustic and sometimes traditional instruments (especially in the very Irish-sounding Jig of Life). As usual, she sprinkles various references to horror movies into her songs. In the disturbing song Hello Earth she quotes Jacques Tourneur (Night of the Demon, 1957) and uses choirs from Nosferatu the Vampyre (Werner Herzog, 1979). Not to mention the lyrics on Hounds of Love, which are worthy of a Hitchcock nightmare. Alongside these tense moments, Kate Bush soothes us with softer songs, such as the ballad Dream of Sheep with its prevailing piano. A rich, intelligent, elegant, audacious album. In one word: a masterpiece. © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

Since she first appeared on the scene in the mid-90s, amongst a small but genuine group of artists who claim jazz as an unambiguously ‘native’ musical language, Stacey Kent has consistently innovated her stylistic palette, drawing in new audiences without ever needing to sacrifice her own sound, or her artistic integrity. Her new record is the latest example of her artistic versatility. Kent’s talents as a performer are on full display here, in a complete work that includes three original pieces and a series of classics drawn from Broadway musicals, film scores, French chanson tradition, and Brazilian music.She is accompanied on the record by a small and vibrant jazz ensemble under the artistic direction of her longtime collaborator – multi-instrumentalist and arranger Jim Tomlinson. She navigates multiple languages, and seamlessly transitions with virtuosity and flawless musicality from Michel Legrand's lyricism (“Summer me,Winter me”, “La valse des lilas”) to Carlos Jobim's heady sensuality (“Corcovado”), with the light sophistication of the melodies of Richard Rogers' (“Happy Talk”) or Frederick Loewe (“Show Me”) to the poignant gravity of Jacques Brel (the classic “Ne me quitte pas” sung in French and its English version “If You Go Away”). In each of these pieces, with her clear and vibrant timbre, fluid articulation, and innate sense of swing, Stacey Kent once again demonstrates real artistic originality, through her sensual and sophisticated vocals, full of emotional nuance. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

ZZ Top had reached the top of the charts before, but that didn't make their sudden popularity in 1983 any more predictable. It wasn't that they were just popular -- they were hip, for God's sake, since they were one of the only AOR favorites to figure out to harness the stylish, synthesized grooves of new wave, and then figure out how to sell it on MTV. Of course, it helped that they had songs that deserved to be hits. With "Gimme All Your Lovin'," "Sharp Dressed Man," and "Legs," they had their greatest set of singles since the heady days of Tres Hombres, and the songs that surrounded them weren't bad either -- they would have been singles on El Loco, as a matter of fact. The songs alone would have made Eliminator one of ZZ Top's three greatest albums, but their embrace of synths and sequencers made it a blockbuster hit, since it was the sound of the times. Years later, the sound of the times winds up sounding a bit stiff. It's still an excellent ZZ Top album, one of their best, yet it sounds like a mechanized ZZ Top thanks to the unflaggingly accurate grooves. Then again, that's part of the album's charm -- this is new wave blues-rock, glossed up for the video, looking as good as the omnipresent convertible on the cover and sounding as irresistible as Reaganomics. Not the sort the old-school fans or blues-rock purists will love, but ZZ Top never sounded as much like a band of its time as they did here.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

One of the reasons that Jackson Browne's first album is among the most auspicious debuts in pop music history is that it doesn't sound like a debut. Although only 23, Browne had kicked around the music business for several years, writing and performing as a member of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and as Nico's backup guitarist, among other gigs, while many artists recorded his material. So, if this doesn't sound like someone's first batch of songs, it's not. Browne had developed an unusual use of language, studiedly casual yet full of striking imagery, and a post-apocalyptic viewpoint to go with it. He sang with a calm certainty over spare, discretely placed backup -- piano, acoustic guitar, bass, drums, congas, violin, harmony vocals -- that highlighted the songs and always seemed about to disappear. In song after song, Browne described the world as a desert in need of moisture, and this wet/dry dichotomy carried over into much of the imagery. In "Doctor My Eyes," the album's most propulsive song and a Top Ten hit, he sang, "Doctor, my eyes/Cannot see the sky/Is this the prize/For having learned how not to cry?" If Browne's outlook was cautious, its expression was original. His conditional optimism seemed to reflect hard experience, and in the early '70s, the aftermath of the '60s, a lot of his listeners shared that perspective. Like any great artist, Browne articulated the tenor of his times. But the album has long since come to seem a timeless collection of reflective ballads touching on still-difficult subjects -- suicide (explicitly), depression and drug use (probably), spiritual uncertainty and desperate hope -- all in calm, reasoned tones, and all with an amazingly eloquent sense of language. Jackson Browne's greater triumph is that, having perfectly expressed its times, it transcended those times as well. (The album features a cover depicting Browne's face on a water bag -- an appropriate reference to its desert/water imagery -- containing the words "saturate before using." Inevitably, many people began to refer to the self-titled album by that phrase, and when it was released on CD, it nearly became official -- both the disc and the spine of the jewel box read Saturate Before Using.)© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

4 stars out of 5 -- "AVENTINE is a strikingly spare album of great, but frosty, beauty."© TiVo

After the success on their Love It to Death album and its hit single "I'm Eighteen," Alice Cooper seemed poised to make a giant leap to the head of the hard rock class. Killer delivers on the promise and then some as it offers moments of sweaty rock & roll brilliance, oddball horror ballads, and garage rock freak outs, all wrapped up in a glammy, sleazy package. Working again with producer Bob Ezrin, the band craft a sound that's powerful and lithe with guitars that slash and snake around each other, drums and bass that provide a solid foundation but also aren't short on melody and hooks, and of course Alice Cooper's one of a kind vocals. Whether he's strutting, crooning, or going slowly insane, his voice is like the character in a movie you can't take your eyes off for a second because you might miss a small gesture or look that will shock and surprise. The one-two punch of "Under My Wheels" and "Be My Lover" is one of the great album operners of all time, both songs taking classic rock & roll tropes and giving them a evil twist with romping horns, doo wop background vocals and the kind of libertine lyrics that are guaranteed to drive parents crazy. After this, the album takes off in a variety of directions including the horror prog ballad "Dead Babies," the raucous rockers "You Drive Me Nervous" and "Yeah Yeah Yeah" that come across like Steppenwolf tracks made by real bikers, the Western gunfighter ballad "Desperado" -- which juxtaposes some lovely orchestrated strings against Cooper's croaking vocals -- and the oddly rollicking title track where Cooper does a convincing carnival barker imitation while guitarists Mike Bruce and Glen Buxton get a chance to unwind and kick up some dust. Each and every track is handled with the same kind of unbridled glee that lets the listener know the band is having a blast; it's hard not to be swept along for the ride. The album's centerpiece "Halo of Flies" is a stunning work of rock & roll that encompasses the gutter freak psych of the band's earliest work, the expansive scope of prog rock, bits of the Sound of Music, martial drum solos, very stoned blues riffing, and Cooper's alternately pleading and withering vocals. It's the work of a band who can barely control all the ideas flowing out of them, yet somehow manage to corral their energy and creativity into something epic and unique. Indeed, there was no other group quite like Alice Cooper operating in 1971 and Killer is the moment where they put all the pieces together and began to soar.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

Ella and Louis is an inspired collaboration, masterminded by producer Norman Granz. Both artists were riding high at this stage in their careers, and Granz assembled a stellar quartet of Oscar Peterson (piano), Buddy Rich (drums), Herb Ellis (guitar) and Ray Brown (bass). Equally inspired was the choice of material, with the gruffness of Armstrong's voice blending like magic with Fitzgerald's stunningly silky delivery. Outstanding are Irving Berlin's "Cheek to Cheek" and "Isn't This a Lovely Day," and everything else works like a dream, with the golden star going to the Gershwin brothers' "They Can't Take That Away from Me." Gentle and sincere, this is deserving of a place in every home.© TiVo

After the album-tour-album cycle of Script for a Jester's Tear, Fugazi, and the subsequent Euro-only release of Real to Reel, Marillion retreated to Berlin's Hansa Ton Studios with Rolling Stones producer Chris Kimsey to work on their next opus. Armed with a handful of lyrics born out of a self-confessed acid trip, Fish came up with the elaborate concept for 1985's Misplaced Childhood. Touching upon his early childhood experiences and his inability to deal with a slew of bad breakups exacerbated by a never-ending series of rock star-type "indulgences," Misplaced Childhood would prove to be not only the band's most accomplished release to date, but also its most streamlined. Initial record company skepticism over the band's decision to forge ahead with a '70s-style prog rock opus split into two halves (sides one and two) quickly evaporated as Marillion delivered its two most commercial singles ever: "Kayleigh" and "Lavender." With its lush production and punchy mix, the album went on to become the band's greatest commercial triumph, especially in Europe where they would rise from theater attraction to bona fide stadium royalty. The subsequent U.S. success of "Kayleigh" would also see Marillion returning to the States for a difficult tour as Rush's support act.© John Franck /TiVo