One would be hard-pressed to name a rock album whose influence has been as broad and pervasive as The Velvet Underground & Nico. While it reportedly took over a decade for the album's sales to crack six figures, glam, punk, new wave, goth, noise, and nearly every other left-of-center rock movement owes an audible debt to this set. While The Velvet Underground had as distinctive a sound as any band, what's most surprising about this album is its diversity. Here, the Velvets dipped their toes into dreamy pop ("Sunday Morning"), tough garage rock ("Waiting for the Man"), stripped-down R&B ("There She Goes Again"), and understated love songs ("I'll Be Your Mirror") when they weren't busy creating sounds without pop precedent. Lou Reed's lyrical exploration of drugs and kinky sex (then risky stuff in film and literature, let alone "teen music") always received the most press attention, but the music Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, and Maureen Tucker played was as radical as the words they accompanied. The bracing discord of "European Son," the troubling beauty of "All Tomorrow's Parties," and the expressive dynamics of "Heroin" all remain as compelling as the day they were recorded. While the significance of Nico's contributions have been debated over the years, she meshes with the band's outlook in that she hardly sounds like a typical rock vocalist, and if Andy Warhol's presence as producer was primarily a matter of signing the checks, his notoriety allowed The Velvet Underground to record their material without compromise, which would have been impossible under most other circumstances. Few rock albums are as important as The Velvet Underground & Nico, and fewer still have lost so little of their power to surprise and intrigue more 50 years after first hitting the racks.© Mark Deming /TiVo

In a duet with singer and percussionist Abraham Rodriguez Jr., the bassist Avishai Cohen is now fulfilling a lifelong ambition with the release of his Iroko. He has been passionate about Latin music since his arrival in New York in 1992, where he began to take lessons from the legendary Puerto Rican bassist Andy Gonzalez. It was during this period that Cohen also crossed paths with Rodriguez, who was playing in Ray Santiago’s (a salsa pianist) group. The two musicians immediately discovered elective affinities. Embarking on the career that we now know (Iroko is nothing less than his 20th record as a leader), the double bassist never lost contact with Rodriguez, who, during a break, became known as the one of the most sought-after percussionists and singers on the New York Latin scene. Determined to make public his love for this rich and complex musical tradition, Avishai Cohen, before leaving on tour at the head of a sextet made up of his favourite New York Latin musicians, could only take advantage of the opportunity to finally record this long-awaited brotherly duet with Rodriguez. With a varied repertoire combining traditional Yoruba tunes, popular Afro-Caribbean songs, and masterfully revisited US classics (from James Brown to Frank Sinatra), the two men draw their energies and references from a vast melting pot of genre-wide hybridizations from the New York Latin music scene. What resulted was a striking catalogue of grooves combining the heritage of Afro-Cuban traditions with elements of R'n'B, jazz, and Motown soul. Both minimalist and sumptuous, bursting with heady polyrhythms, subtle vocal harmonies, and potent melodies, Iriko's music is certainly rejuvenating. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

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Few artists in the 2020s are as deserving of carte blanche as Kali Uchis. Before delivering Red Moon in Venus, the singer and songwriter had earned a Latin Grammy nomination, a Grammy win for Best Dance Recording, and other nominations in the R&B and Música Urbana fields, plus platinum certifications as headliner or co-star of five rather different singles. Isolation and Sin Miedo (Del Amor y Otros Demonios) ∞ behind her, Uchis seemed primed for the difficult third album with every right to unload a carnivalesque triple LP presented as a fuzzy concept with enough stylistic whimsicality to offer something for everyone. Red Moon in Venus instead is highly concentrated in every respect. Flush with supple slow jams and celestial ballads, it's mostly about love, from possessiveness and blissful escape to vexation and bittersweet farewell. While it doesn't have the swagger or humor of Isolation, it's engaging from start to finish, consistently palatable. Uchis somehow displays as much charisma and vocal elasticity as ever, and her verses are often as instantly memorable as her hooks. Assorted production allies -- longtime associate Josh Crocker, the equally compatible Sir Dylan, and resurgent master Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins among them -- help Uchis make each sound her own. "Hasta Cuando," frosted electro with a bumping beat that recalls Whodini, deals out teeth-kissing bilingual retribution: "Dices que yo la vida te la jodí/It's sad that you're still obsessed, keep lyin' on me." "Blue," lithe sophisti-pop replete with saxophone, makes dejection sound as glamorous as anything by Everything But the Girl or Sade. Philly soul older than half a century is evoked in "Love Between...," a dazed ballad rendered with enchanting finesse. Part of what makes the album remarkable is that these ideas sound fresh beside songs like "I Wish You Roses," "Endlessly," and the Don Toliver duet "Fantasy," additional highlights that emit kaleidoscopic swirls of pop-R&B, warm rays of post-disco boogie, and romantic dancefloor heat. The low-spirited moments are typically as alluring as the bliss-outs, and though there's a breakup in the mix, Red Moon finishes as Uchis pushes the reset button on a relationship with a strong sense of optimism.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

Over a decade into her career as one of Sweden's biggest pop exports, Zara Larsson expands her scope to include more shimmering dance-pop and neon-synth sheen on her third studio set, Venus. Along with the refreshed sound is a newfound artistic freedom: it's the first album released on her own Sommer House label. That liberated spirit -- the titular inner goddess of the title -- courses through Venus, which balances the usual pop-R&B style of her earlier work with rhythmic mainstream bops and some subtle emotional sweep. The playful singalong "You Love Who You Love" and the epic, string-backed "End of Time" build atop a persistent throb and soaring vocals, channeling the addictive, singsong style of Ava Max. Meanwhile, lead single "Can't Tame Her" careens down the midnight freeway of an '80s action flick, resurrecting that decade's full-throttle synth anthem energy. The sleek "None of These Guys" drips with attitude and a cold, pulsing beat, while David Guetta lends his festival-sized house production to "On My Love," a reunion with the superstar DJ that sounds like Rihanna's turn-of-the-decade ravers. Larsson stretches her usual range with the bittersweet piano ballad "Soundtrack" -- which references Radiohead, Joni Mitchell, and "Hallelujah" as she reflects on a past love -- and the aptly titled "The Healing," another delicate piano-based dose of vulnerability. Everything comes together on the triumphant title track, which merges the synth-bop energy of the album's big radio-friendly singles and the emotional depth of "Soundtrack" to maximum effect, opening Larsson's eyes to a new world full of love and possibility. Personal but still very fun, Venus is a bold but totally sensical evolution in sound that avoids a third LP of the same old songs and pushes Larsson's sonic style into the future.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

One would be hard-pressed to name a rock album whose influence has been as broad and pervasive as The Velvet Underground & Nico. While it reportedly took over a decade for the album's sales to crack six figures, glam, punk, new wave, goth, noise, and nearly every other left-of-center rock movement owes an audible debt to this set. While The Velvet Underground had as distinctive a sound as any band, what's most surprising about this album is its diversity. Here, the Velvets dipped their toes into dreamy pop ("Sunday Morning"), tough garage rock ("Waiting for the Man"), stripped-down R&B ("There She Goes Again"), and understated love songs ("I'll Be Your Mirror") when they weren't busy creating sounds without pop precedent. Lou Reed's lyrical exploration of drugs and kinky sex (then risky stuff in film and literature, let alone "teen music") always received the most press attention, but the music Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, and Maureen Tucker played was as radical as the words they accompanied. The bracing discord of "European Son," the troubling beauty of "All Tomorrow's Parties," and the expressive dynamics of "Heroin" all remain as compelling as the day they were recorded. While the significance of Nico's contributions have been debated over the years, she meshes with the band's outlook in that she hardly sounds like a typical rock vocalist, and if Andy Warhol's presence as producer was primarily a matter of signing the checks, his notoriety allowed The Velvet Underground to record their material without compromise, which would have been impossible under most other circumstances. Few rock albums are as important as The Velvet Underground & Nico, and fewer still have lost so little of their power to surprise and intrigue more 50 years after first hitting the racks.© Mark Deming /TiVo

Her album Visions illuminated 2012. With her 4th studio album Art Angels, Grimes succeeds once again - excelling in the field of electro pop and ferverish eclecticism. This time the Canadian rounds off a few more angles, producing a range of melodies that are undeniably more 'pop', but also irresistibly catchy. The result is a diluted and diverse experience compared with past efforts, but without losing her unique identity and artistic singularity. Indeed, Grimes does not do electro pop like her counterparts. Each song from Art Angels comes with a slight twist or the vital dose of quirkiness necessary to makes it a fascinating composition. Note the presence of Janelle Monáe on one of the tracks. © MD / Qobuz

Artistic development doesn't always improve an artist's work, as the members of Air discovered when their second album, 2001's 10,000 Hz Legend, disappointed fans and critics expecting another pop masterpiece to rank with their debut, Moon Safari. 10,000 Hz Legend buried the duo's clear melodic sense underneath an avalanche of rigid performances, claustrophobic productions, and a restless experimentalism that rarely allowed listeners to enjoy what they were hearing. Gone was the freshness evident on Moon Safari: the alien made familiar, the concept that electronic dance could be turned into a user-friendly medium, the illustration of simplicity and space as assets, not liabilities. Fortunately, Air learned from their mistakes -- or, at least, their limitations -- leading up to the recording of third album Talkie Walkie, and the happy result is a solid middle ground between both of their previous records. The features are kept to a minimum and the tracks are constructed to sound no more complex than they need to be, even though Air risk the assumption that Talkie Walkie is a simple album. While there's nothing present to compete with the plodding glory of "Sexy Boy," Talkie Walkie ultimately succeeds because of Dunckel and Godin's renewed contentment to produce the tracks they do better than any other -- ones with a surface prettiness but no great depth. (It's no mystery why they've been tapped for several scores.) Ironically, the one track here that shrugs off the simplicity of electronic pop is a track first heard in a film, "Alone in Kyoto," an impressionistic string piece originally composed for the Sofia Coppola film Lost in Translation.© John Bush /TiVo

Stevie Wonder broke a three-year silence, one that followed a series of six classic albums released within six years, with this double album, the score/soundtrack to a little-seen environmental documentary directed by Wild Bunch co-screenwriter Walon Green. From the release of Songs in the Key of Life through the release of Plants, Wonder had been active, actually, but only as a collaborator, working with Ramsey Lewis, the Pointer Sisters, Minnie Riperton, Syreeta, Ronnie Foster, and Michael Jackson. Even so, three years was a considerable lag between albums. Anticipation was so high that this release peaked at number four on the Billboard 200 and R&B album charts. It quickly slipped to footnote status; when Wonder’s 1972-1980 albums were reissued in 2000, it was left out of the program. Plants is a sprawling, fascinating album. Though it is dominated by synthesizer-heavy instrumental pieces with evocative titles, there is a handful of full-blown songs. The gorgeous, mostly acoustic ballad “Send One Your Love” was a Top Ten R&B single, while the joyous “Outside My Window” registered in the Top 60. Beyond that, there’s the deep classic “Come Back as a Flower,” a gently lapping, piano-led ballad featuring Syreeta on vocals. Otherwise, there are playfully oddball tracks like “Venus’ Flytrap and the Bug,” where Wonder chirps “Please don’t eat me!” through robotizing effects, and “A Seed’s a Star,” which incorporates crowd noise, a robotized monologue, and a shrieking Tata Vega over a funkier and faster version of Yellow Magic Orchestra. The album is not for everyone, but it suited its purpose and allowed its maker an amount of creative wiggle room that few major-label artists experience. © Andy Kellman /TiVo

With Rings Around the World, Super Furry Animals took a stab at a streamlined, big-budget album, complete with guest stars and cameos. It was accomplished and accomplished what it set out to do -- namely, elevate the Furries' critical standing, making them a mainstay of Mojo readers and opening some doors in American magazines, who had previously ignored the brilliant Welsh quintet. Nevertheless, it was their least-interesting set of music released to date, often sounding constrained by its polished widescreen aspirations (not to mention its similarly cleaned-up, simplified political stance and lyrics), so it comes as no little relief that SFA loosens up on the sequel to Rings, the superbly titled Phantom Power. Teaming up with producer Mario Caldato, Jr., who helmed the Beastie Boys' comeback, Check Your Head, the Furries come up with their fuzziest record yet, abandoning the Technicolor gloss of Rings for a hazy, slow-rolling collection of elastic pop songs. Caldato facilitates the return of dance beats and hints of electronica, sometimes recalling Guerrilla in its arrangements, but his biggest contribution is to give the record a bit of dirt, grounding this music in reality. This is a mixed blessing, since it means that Phantom Power never takes off the way Radiator or Mwng or even Fuzzy Logic did in its sheer exuberance. This earth-bound feeling is all the more palpable because SFA's sensibilities are still in line with the streamlined attitudes of Rings Around the World. Their different influences and ideas don't intertwine the way they used to; they exist as separate songs. These songs are frequently very good, and display many of the band's attributes, from Gruff Rhys' ethereal yet warm voice and his sweet, enveloping melodies to the group's effortless eclecticism, grounded in neo-psychedelia but encompassing much more, including a new fascination with country-rock. It's a very good listen and there's a certain appeal to the dreamy haze of the production, particularly when it's goosed along by sighing harmonies and sweet steel guitars, sounding something like a Californian Magical Mystery Tour. That, of course, is a good thing, and Phantom Power is a very good album (and, again, compared to many of SFA's peers in 2003, it is far ahead of the pack), but it does lack some of the things that made earlier Super Furry Animals so exhilarating -- the grit, the wild abandon, the absurdity, and the sheer unpredictability, where it was impossible to tell what would happen next. Perhaps this is the inevitable result of maturity, which does make one a little bit older and a little bit slower, but it's still hard not to miss. But, at least they're still making good records, unlike some bands who enter their mature phase.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Basically, there are two things that rock bands do: they make an album and they go on tour. Since Paul McCartney fervently wanted to believe Wings was a real rock band, he had the group record an album or two and then took them on the road. In March of 1976 he released Wings at the Speed of Sound and launched a tour of America, following which he released Wings Over America, a triple-album set that re-created an entire concert from various venues. It was a massive set list, running over two hours and featuring 30 songs, and it was well received at the time, partially because he revived some Beatles tunes, partially because it wasn't the disaster some naysayers expected, and mostly because -- like the tour itself -- it was the first chance that millions of Beatles fans had to hear McCartney in concert properly (the Beatles had toured, to be sure, and had played before millions of people between 1963 and 1966, but as a result of the relatively primitive equipment they used and the frenzied, omnipresent screaming of the mid-'60s teen audiences at their shows, few of those present had actually "heard" the group). Wings were never a particularly gifted band, and nowhere is that more evident than on Wings Over America. Matters aren't really helped by the fact that the large set list gives McCartney full opportunity to show off his vast array of affected voices, from crooner to rocker to bluesman. Also, the repertory, in retrospect, is weighted too heavily toward the recent Wings albums Wings at the Speed of Sound and Band on the Run, which weren't really loaded with great tunes. (It's also hard to believe that there were two Denny Laine vocals so early in the program, or that the concert ended with the plodding rocker "Soily," which was never released on any other McCartney album.) In its defense, the album offers bracing renditions of "Maybe I'm Amazed" -- arguably the best of McCartney's post-Beatles songs and possibly his single greatest composition -- and "Band on the Run," as well as nicely distilling the harder side of his repertory, with a few breaks for softer songs such as "My Love" and "Silly Love Songs"; another highlight is the rippling bass sound, showing off that instrument in a manner closer in spirit to, say, a John Entwistle solo LP than to McCartney's more pop-focused studio work. The triple LP, issued two weeks before Christmas of 1976, was priced so low that it was offered by most stores as a "loss leader" to pull customers in; what's more, the Beatles mystique was still very much attached to record and artist alike -- at the time, John Lennon had seemingly burnt out a major chunk of his talent, George Harrison was losing his popular edge and had done a disastrous 1974 American tour, and no one was expecting great things from Ringo Starr -- and it seemed like McCartney represented the part of the group's legacy that came closest to living up to fans' expectations. Thus the album ended up selling in numbers, rivaling the likes of Frampton Comes Alive and other mega-hits of the period, and rode the charts for months. The double-CD reissue offers considerably improved sound, though the combination of workmanlike performances and relatively pedestrian songs diminishes the appeal of such small pleasures as the acoustic Beatles set or the storming "Hi Hi Hi." Wings Over America is most valuable as a souvenir for hardcore fans and also as a reminder of the excitement -- beyond the actual merits of the group's work -- that attended McCartney and Wings' work in the lingering afterglow of the Beatles.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine & Bruce Eder /TiVo

The Sacrament of Sin is the seventh studio album from German power-metal outfit Powerwolf and follows their 2015 release Blessed & Possessed. Recorded at the beginning of 2018 at the Fascination Street Studios in Örebrö, Sweden with producer Jens Bogren (Amon Amarth, Opeth), the album sees the group deliver a collection of bold, anthemic power metal in their trademark style.© Rich Wilson /TiVo