Instant-classic debut from the English rock band that introduced the world to the Gallagher brothers.© TiVo

Imagine Dragons give away the plot with the very title of Evolve, the 2017 sequel to 2015's sophomore set, Smoke + Mirrors. Not content to stay in one emotional or musical spot, Imagine Dragons consciously move forward on Evolve, pushing themselves into a positive place, a transition that mirrors lead singer Dan Reynolds working through a heavy depression. Some of that darkness seeped into Smoke + Mirrors, but it's not heard here. Opening with "I Don't Know Why," a glitzy dance-rock song that nods at a disco past but exists in an EDM present, the record often rides along to a neon pulse. It's not that Imagine Dragons have abandoned the heavy-footed stomp they patented on "Radioactive," but they've threaded in busy, percolating electronic beats and give plenty of space to gilded keyboards. When the tempo is quick, the results are festival-friendly electro-rockers. When the tempo is slow, the results feel like a hybrid of Coldplay and Mr. Mister -- power rock ballads spiked with laser drums. As throwback as that sensibility may be, the band strives to be thoroughly modern, emphasizing rhythms and gargantuan hooks to tightly constructed compositions. Whenever the group tries a new sound -- pumping up "Mouth of the River" with fuzz guitars or attempting a bit of rap-rock on "Start Over" -- it feels not like experimentation but like a quick scan through a new music playlist. And that means Evolve feels very much like the digital Zeitgeist of 2017.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

To the thousands of questions raised about themselves, the Arctic Monkeys answer Whatever People Say I Am, I Am Not. Their success story, born in bars and on the Internet, is as huge as it is dazzling. Smashing the British sales record – over 360,000 albums sold in a week −, they receive this memorable accolade from the Times: Bigger than the Beatles! In Great Britain, ever since the Libertines have burnt out, the horizon had turned dull grey. All until this fluorescent-adolescent quartet from Sheffield. Led by the timid Alex Turner, the Monkeys concocted for this perfect first album thirteen frantic tracks bordering on genius, that the NME ranked 19th in its 500 Greatest albums of all time list. It featured everything that had been missing from the rock landscape. Incisive guitar riffs for Turner’s scruffy compositions (The View From The Afternoon, I Bet You Look Better On The Dancefloor, Dancing Shoes) and Matt Helders’ cheeky drums. Andy Nicholson on the bass for the last time. They play, hard and fast. The whole thing is overflowing with extensive lyrics about the daily life of the English working class. Shiny but not polished, youthful but well formed. Recorded in the country side, in the Chapel Studios in Lincolnshire, this opus draws from the Strokes’ nonchalance (Riot Van), Franz Ferdinand’s dancing energy (Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured) and the Libertines’ phlegm (Mardy Bum), while also drawing inspiration from their idols, the Jam, the Smiths, and Oasis, already putting down their very own trademarks for years to come. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz

For his first album on the label Mack Avenue Records, released in 2016, Julian Lage and his trio – made up of bassist Scott Colley and drummer Kenny Wollesen – tackled older, sometimes forgotten partitions by Willard Robison, Sidney Bechet, Jack Teagarden, Bix Beiderbecke and Spike Hughes, and incorporated original works, paying tribute to one of his many obsessions: Keith Jarrett’s American quartet. But the real shock value of this album is of course to hear Lage exclusively on the electric guitar, as opposed to the acoustic guitar, on which he had excelled so far… Two years later, still with Colley and Wollesen, he doubled down on this electric path and continued to blend jazz, blues, country and rock’n’roll. And because Julian Lage knows his classics like the back of his guitar pick, filiations keep on coming. From Bill Frisell’s current, we take a sharp turn to Pat Metheny’s branch, before going for a more streamlined path, à la Jim Hall, who in fact worked with Colley and Wollesen. But of course Lage’s Fender Telecaster isn’t the weapon of a copyist, as virtuosic as he may be. Now 30 years old, the former Californian child prodigy has not only sorted out his personal culture, but also imposed his own style thanks to an ever more mastered writing. And the compositions on his Modern Lore are among some of his more mature works. This fifth album is the result of an ever-growing complicity with his rhythm section. © MD/Qobuz

Not long after her last album, 2019's Dedicated, was released, Carly Rae Jepsen revealed a change of heart. It was originally going to be a very different collection of songs: "I had an album I named Disco Sweat that will probably never be released, and shouldn't. I started off with a very strong intention to make an understated disco, living room dance party thing," she said in an interview, jokingly (?) adding it "will be buried in my backyard." We may never know if she dug up the evidence, but the singer's fifth studio album has plenty of disco influence. "Shooting Star" is sassy stuff, with Daft Punk-style synth, space-laser zoomies and Jepsen trying on an animatronic baby-doll voice: "I might sleep with you tonight … I still believe in my New York City … we could turn it on." "So Nice" goes for loose and easy chill-disco beats. Cool "Joshua Tree" applies big, bouncy bass as Jepsen purrs, "I need it … I feel it … I see it … I know it … I own it … I show it." "Talking to Yourself"—which Jepsen has called "not not a revenge song," about leaving someone wanting more after it's too late—has fun whiplash glitches and an icy bridge. And "The Loneliest Time" is a disco-goddess duet with Rufus Wainwright—a delicious pairing glorified with a five-piece string section. (It also begs the question: Why doesn't Wainwright make a whole album like this?) "Beach House," meanwhile, is a Eurobeat lark: playful, winky and pure camp; Jepsen plays it cool, like Dua Lipa with more personality. The song was inspired by the perils of dating and features dudes delivering creepy lines to a slinky beat—"I've got a beach house in Malibu/ And I'm probably gonna hurt your feelings … I've got a weekend in paradise/ And I'm probably gonna never call you … I've got a lake house in Canada/ And I'm probably gonna harvest your organs." There are surprises, too, like the sultry island breeze of "Sideways" and "Far Away," a jittery ballad with a Terence Trent D'Arby feel. Breezy "Western Wind" was produced by Rostam Batmanglij and you can hear him all over it, bringing world-beat conga to Jepsen's California dream. The former Vampire Weekend multi-instrumentalist also produced "Go Find Yourself or Whatever," an '80s-centric ballad with folky guitars and a Broadway heroine delivery from Jepsen. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

There is no overestimating the historical power and influence of Shania Twain's Come on Over. You can hear it in the music of Taylor Swift (all the way up through 1989, easily), as well as Carrie Underwood, Kelsea Ballerini, Carly Pearce, Kelly Clarkson, Maren Morris, latter day The Chicks, even Harry Styles. Its success—40 million copies sold and counting—freed up boundaries (for better or worse) for countless country acts, from Rascal Flatts to Dan + Shay, to be unashamed of going pop. The album's production, by Twain's now-ex husband Mutt Lange (who was previously best known for his work with AC/DC and Def Leppard), is an epoch in the country music timeline—much the way Chet Atkins' Nashville Sound was. While some of those production flourishes sound a bit dated on the three-disc remaster (including domestic and international versions plus a grab bag of collaborations and remixes) of Come on Over, these are still killer songs that would tear it up on country and/or pop radio today. "Man! I Feel Like a Woman!" packs an even bigger dose of serotonin. Every aspect—guitar, fiddle, vocals—of "Love Gets Me Every Time" sounds so crisp and clear on both the US version and its international compatriot, famously stripped of the hollering fiddle at the front of the mix. Freshened-up "You're Still the One" glistens, the pedal steel sharp as ever against the gooey cloud of backing vocals. But want something different? There's also a fun 1999 live duet with Elton John turning his twang up to 11, as well as several thumping dancefloor remixes and a largely superfluous version from Twain's 2022 Las Vegas residency, with Coldplay's Chris Martin on piano. There's both the spirited and clicky original of "I'm Holdin' On to Love (To Save My Life)" and a more down-home take with Alison Krauss. The bluegrass queen makes a second appearance on a duet of "From This Moment On," from the Up! Close and Personal live album, offering a warmer, rounder take on the pristine original with Bryan White. A 1999 Miami concert collab on the song with Backstreet Boys puts everyone's vocal acrobatics on display. "Honey, I'm Home," always one of the most countrified tracks on the album, is slick as a whistle, and cowbell positively vibrates on "That Don't Impress Me Much" (and the line "OK, so you're Brad Pitt/ That don't impress me much" still holds up). And while remastering highlights how cheesy Lange's Eurovision-style production is on "Come On Over," Twain just sounds terrific. Viva Shania. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Along with D’Angelo, Gerald Maxwell Rivera aka Maxwell is one of the most important liberators of soul in the nineties. While a certain spinelessness had saturated the majority of mainstream productions, the half-Haitian, half-Puerto Rican multi-instrumentalist from Brooklyn concocted a modern twist on soul that drew inspiration from masters such as Marvin Gaye, Al Green, Herbie Hancock (jazz fusion) and Prince. The spirituality that resides within Maxwell’s Urban Hang Suite binds him for life to his idol, Marvin. The great Leon Ware who produced the hit What’s Going On also participated in Maxwell’s first opus, helping to create an album slightly less monolithic than that of D’Angelo’s that had been released a few months earlier. The well-known guitarist Wah-Wah Watson, the ultra-funky player often used by Hancock, was also thrown into the mix that combined seventies soul, smooth, groovy jazz, and mellow rap beats. The presence of these 5 star-studded veterans guaranteed a certain vintage feel to the neo soul sound without appearing too retro. It is without a doubt the entire instrumental ensemble within this record that delivers it a certain caliber and originality when compared with less seasoned competition. All in all, Maxwell created a form of concept album that was centered around both a love story and his inner struggles. It is a classic made magical by his voice, his sound and his vision. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

The Official Archive Series, Vol. 2 captures Status Quo on their Quo Festive tour at London's O2 in December 2012. Featuring the lineup of Francis Rossi, Rick Parfitt, Andrew Bown, John Edwards, and Matt Letley, the set saw the band work through a barrage of classic Quo hits while also performing a medley of Christmas-themed songs, including "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" and "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree."© Rich Wilson /TiVo

Nina Simone Sings the Blues, issued in 1967, was her RCA label debut, and was a brave departure from the material she had been recording for Phillips. Indeed, her final album for that label, High Priestess of Soul, featured the singer, pianist, and songwriter fronting a virtual orchestra. Here, Simone is backed by a pair of guitarists (Eric Gale and Rudy Stevenson), bassist (Bob Bushnell), drummer (Bernard "Pretty" Purdie), organist (Ernie Hayes), and harmonica player who doubled on saxophone (Buddy Lucas). Simone handled the piano chores. The song selection is key here. Because for all intents and purposes this is perhaps the rawest record Simone ever cut. It opens with the sultry, nocturnal, slow-burning original "Do I Move You," which doesn't beg the question but demands an answer: "Do I move you?/Are you willin'?/Do I groove you?/Is it thrillin'?/Do I soothe you?/Tell the truth now?/Do I move you?/Are you loose now?/The answer better be yeah...It pleases me...." As the guitarists slip and slide around her husky vocal, a harmonica wails in the space between, and Simone's piano is the authority, hard and purposely slow. The other tune in that vein, "In the Dark," is equally tense and unnerving; the band sounds as if it's literally sitting around as she plays and sings. There are a number of Simone signature tunes on this set, including "I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl," "Backlash Blues," and her singular, hallmark, definitive reading of "My Man's Gone Now" from Porgy and Bess. Other notable tracks are the raucous, sexual roadhouse blues of "Buck," written by Simone's then husband Andy Stroud, and the woolly gospel blues of "Real Real," with the Hammond B-3 soaring around her vocal. The cover of Buddy Johnson's "Since I Fell for You" literally drips with ache and want. Simone also reprised her earlier performance of "House of the Rising Sun" (released on a 1962 Colpix live platter called At the Village Gate). It has more authority in this setting as a barrelhouse blues; it's fast, loud, proud, and wailing with harmonica and B-3 leading the charge. The original set closes with the slow yet sassy "Blues for Mama," ending with the same sexy strut the album began with, giving it the feel of a Möbius strip. Nina Simone Sings the Blues is a hallmark recording that endures; it deserves to be called a classic.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Little was heard from James Blake throughout an almost three-year period that followed Overgrown, his second straight Top Ten U.K. album. He appeared on an Airhead track and released a 12" on his 1-800-Dinosaur label, yet it wasn't until February 2016, during his BBC Radio 1 program, that listeners got their initial taste of album three. Drawn like a scene from a dissolving relationship that immediately precedes release and relief, "Modern Soul" hinted that the album could be a bit brighter with less of the anguish that permeated the singer/producer's first two albums. Another song, a vaguely aching minimal dub ballad, was aired two months later, possibly chosen because it too had a title, "Timeless," that could potentially wind up detractors. In late April, when it seemed like he might spring on his audience a tune named something like "Proper Music," Blake received a profile boost from Beyoncé, whose Lemonade prominently sported a pair of songs featuring his assistance. A couple weeks later, the long-delayed The Colour in Anything materialized at a length nearly that of his first two albums put together. Recording began in London. Once stalled by creative fatigue, Blake decamped to Rick Rubin's Malibu studio. The sunnier environment had no evident effect on the album's outlook. Regardless of location, Blake continues to deal in fraught romantic trauma, setting the album's tone immediately with "Radio Silence," a mix of mournful gospel and surging synthesizers in which "I can't believe this, you don't wanna see me" is stated something like ten times. As he sifts through the wreckage in puzzled and lucid states, he still stretches and distorts his frail but transfixing choir boy voice. A few lines are expressed with Auto-Tune fillips, some are enhanced through fine layering, and others are left unembellished, sometimes sunk into the mix of basslines that tap and thrum, percussion that gently skitters and scrapes, and synthesizers, applied like coating, that swell and swarm. Most disorienting is "Put That Away and Talk to Me," akin to a malfunctioning lullaby mobile playing a late-'90s Timbaland knockoff. Blake sought some help, not only from Rubin, who co-produced the Malibu sessions, but from Justin Vernon, who assisted with two songs and is heard on "I Need a Forest Fire," while Frank Ocean co-wrote another pair, including the all-voice closer, where Blake solemnly resolves -- ta-da -- that contentment is up to him. Compared to the self-titled debut and Overgrown, this a more graceful and denser purging, one that can soundtrack some intense wallowing or, at a low volume, throb and murmur unobtrusively in the background.© Andy Kellman /TiVo