Indeed a little extra for diehards and new fans alike, the Cranberries' Something Else serves as both a great primer to the band's classics and a suitable greatest-hits collection. Like Tori Amos' orchestral reworkings on Gold Dust, this release shines a fresh light and decades of hindsight on the Irish group's ten biggest singles, reinterpreted here with the string quartet from the Irish Chamber Orchestra. Dolores O'Riordan's voice remains in fine form, smooth and rich with maturity, backed by her steadfast bandmates Noel and Mike Hogan and Fergal Lawler. Their 1993 debut, Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can't We?, is represented by arguably their best-known songs, "Linger" and "Dreams." The sweeping renditions reinvigorate both songs with more life than their original forms, a treatment that improves a handful of others like 1996's To the Faithful Departed contributions "When You're Gone" and "Free to Decide." On the flip side, the songs that had more bite in their original incarnations are toned down for Something Else, creating an equally alluring angle to the songwriting. Their 1994 alt-rock standard "Zombie" loses its rage, but becomes the somber lament that, deep down, it always was. Likewise, "Ridiculous Thoughts" -- also from the seven-times platinum No Need to Argue -- transforms into a sweeping and yearning plea. The nostalgia trip finishes with 1999's Bury the Hatchet -- "Just My Imagination," "Animal Instinct," and "You & Me" arrive in a satisfying trio toward the close -- before Something Else ends on one of its three new songs. In addition to "The Glory" and "Rupture" -- which sound like B-sides from Departed and Hatchet, respectively -- Something Else includes the heartbreaking "Why?" Written after the passing of O'Riordan's father, "Why?" sounds a lot like her solo work, elevated here by the band into one of their most dramatic and haunting moments. Something Else is worthwhile for the faithful, offering new spins on songs that they likely know by heart, and is an easily digestible snapshot of their 20th century output for those in need of a reminder of the beloved Limerick group's legacy.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

The major-label full-length debut from California's Oliver Tree, 2020's Ugly Is Beautiful proves another showcase for the ironic bowl-cut and JNCO jean-wearing singer's bombastically hooky brand of pop. The album arrives on the heels of several buzzed-about EPs and Ugly Is Beautiful builds nicely upon those albums, juxtaposing catchy, '90s-style pop arrangements with vocals that seem at once cheeky and sincere. Mixing blown-out keyboards with distorted guitars, heavy basslines, and pounding beats, Tree has crafted a distinctively zoomer aesthetic, mixing a hot stew of influences from Nirvana and the Strokes to Eminem, Pixies, and sundry SoundCloud rap touchstones. It's a style that remains remarkably consistent even as he shifts gears, from the driving post-punk of "Me Myself & I" and the Beck-esque acoustic grunge of "Cash Machine" to the moody, synth-heavy club jam "1993." As Tree sings on "Alien Boy," "I fell down to Earth from a hundred miles away/And somehow I still make it work."© Matt Collar /TiVo

Layers is the debut full-length release from French DJ and producer Kungs. Composed of pulsating disco beats, bright guitar work, and varied organic instrumentation, the album features guest vocals from Ephemerals and Jamie N Commons on the singles "I Feel So Bad" and "Don't You Know" as well as his remix of Cookin' on 3 Burners' "This Girl" single.© Rob Wacey /TiVo

Last time we received a dispatch from Ryan Adams, the self-styled savior of rock & roll, it was in 2003, when he delivered his straight-up rock & roll record (aptly titled Rock N Roll) and his two-part mope-rock EP (later combined as one LP) Love Is Hell. Admirable records both, but not quite the sequel to Heartbreaker that fans craved. They also weren't quite as successful as all the hype surrounding their release suggested that they would be, so Adams briefly retreated from the spotlight to regroup, heading back in 2005 with a planned triptych of new albums, the first of which is the double-album Cold Roses, recorded with his new backing band the Cardinals and released at the beginning of May. Three albums in one year is overkill even for an artist predisposed to releasing his every whim, and while it's too early at this writing to judge whether he needed to release all three of the records, it's safe to say that Cold Roses is the record many fans have been waiting to hear -- a full-fledged, unapologetic return to the country-rock that made his reputation when he led Whiskeytown. Not that the album is a retreat, or a crass attempt to give the people what they want, but it's an assured, comfortable collection of 18 songs that play to Adams' strengths because they capture him not trying quite so hard. He settles into a warm, burnished, countryish groove not far removed from vintage Harvest-era Neil Young at the beginning and keeps it going over the course of a double-disc set that isn't all that long. With the first disc clocking in at 39:39 and the second at 36:29, this could easily have been released as a single-disc set, but splitting it into two and packaging it as a mock-gatefold LP is classic Ryan Adams, highlighting both his flair for rock classicism and his tendency to come across slightly affected. As always, he's so obsessive about fitting into classic rock's long lineage that he can be slightly embarrassing -- particularly on the intro to "Beautiful Sorta," which apes David Johansen's intro to the New York Dolls' "Looking for a Kiss" in a way that guarantees a cringe -- which is also a problem when he drifts toward lazy, profanity-riddled lyrics ("this sh*t just f*cks you up" on "Cherry Lane") that undercut a generally strong set of writing. But what makes Cold Roses a success, his first genuine one since Heartbreaker, is that it is a genuine band album, with the Cardinals not only getting co-writing credits but helping Adams relax and let the music flow naturally. It's not the sound of somebody striving to save rock & roll, or even to be important, but that's precisely why this is the easiest Ryan Adams to enjoy. The coming months with their coming LPs will reveal whether this is indeed a shift in his point of view, or just a brief break from his trademark blustering braggadocio.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

American Kid is Patty Griffin's first album of primarily original material since 2007's Children Running Through. It's her most stripped-down recording since her debut, Living with Ghosts. Acoustic guitars of all stripes, mandolins, earthy drums, percussion, bass, and occasional piano and organ accompany her instantly recognizable voice. Co-produced by the artist and Craig Ross, she is joined by longtime guitarist Doug Lancio, as well as Cody and Luther Dickinson. Robert Plant appears on three songs, including the single "Ohio." The set was recorded in Memphis and Brooklyn. Griffin wrote most of these songs after learning of her father's impending death. They aren't so much about his actual life, but her making sense of the coming absence of his physical presence in hers, what she knew of him and his times. These songs are mostly acoustic; one can hear traces of early blues, various American folk styles, gospel, and vintage country music in her brand of Americana. There isn't anything extra anywhere in the mix. The space in the high lonesome "Go Wherever You Wanna Go," with Luther's National Steel guitar playing slide in counterpart to Griffin's earthy vocal, is almost spooky. The combined supplication and exhortation in the haunted "Don't Let Me Die in Florida" carries traces of prewar and Memphis blues. The duet between Griffin and Plant on "Ohio," is a shimmering, open-tuned droning float, it's lyric binds spiritual and physical love; it would not have been out of place on a Band of Joy record. The feeling of home and hearth saturates her excellent reading of Lefty Frizzell's "Mom & Dad's Waltz," while the musical sensation -- if not the form -- of the folk-blues courses through the disquieting "Faithful Son," with a haunting backing vocal by Plant. "Irish Boy" evokes an early 20th century parlor song; Griffin's only accompaniment is her piano. "Get Ready Marie" is a barroom waltz, complete with a male backing chorus and made loopy by an off-kilter Hammond B-3. The set closer, "Gonna Miss You When You're Gone," is Griffin speaking directly to her father, addressing the deep mark he made upon her life, even as he's passing through it. It's part Lonnie Johnson and Lil Green swing blues, and part Peggy Lee pop. It's slow burning, tender, and bittersweet, a three a.m. confession in an empty room, sung from one spirit to another. While the theme of mortality runs deep through American Kid, so does the celebration of life. Roughshod and unpredictable songs engage it in the present as well as the past, through courage, fear, love, memory, and the grainy, knotty, often invisible ties that bind. With its immediacy, economy, cagey strength, and vulnerability, Griffin delivers these 12 songs not as gifts or statements, but as her own evidence of what is, what was, and what yet may come.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Despite being rightfully regarded as a mistress of darkness, Chelsea Wolfe is a more nuanced artist than her image suggests. The title Pain Is Beauty could be seen as a stereotypically gothy glorification of suffering, yet its songs explore how destruction and struggle encourage growth and change -- things that she embraces over the course of her fourth album. A shorthand description would be that she splits the difference between Apokalypsis' lo-fi fury and Unknown Rooms: A Collection of Acoustic Songs' clarity, but once again, it's a little more complicated than that. Wolfe opts for a fuller-fledged sound than she did on Unknown Rooms in a more tempered and eclectic way than Apokalypsis delivered. With the help of Ben Chisholm and her other collaborators, she's free to go in virtually any direction she chooses, and she ends up choosing quite a few: Pain Is Beauty's electronic touches are the most obvious change, but even here Wolfe spans a range, from the subtle enhancements on "Feral Love" to more radical territory like the exquisite "Sick," which sounds like it begins in the heart of darkness with baroque, Wendy Carlos-esque synths and slowly makes its way toward the light. Meanwhile, "The Warden" tops a dance beat reminiscent of Zola Jesus or Chromatics with spooky dulcimers so effortlessly, it feels like they were meant to be together. Wolfe also flirts with rock on the alternately sweet and doomy "Destruction Makes the World Burn Brighter" and the tribal "Ancestors, the Ancients," and magnifies the more familiar acoustic territory of "The Waves Have Come" into the kind of sweeping epic that her voice was made to carry. Indeed, the remarkable mix of presence and ghostly atmosphere in Wolfe's vocals unites the many sounds she explores, grounding more ethereal tracks like "House of Metal"'s swooning chamber pop and leavening denser tracks such as "Kings," one of the few times that the album comes close to being overwrought. From many other artists, this vast scope and variety would sound unfocused, and to be fair, Pain Is Beauty isn't quite as cohesive as Wolfe's earlier albums. Regardless, it's exciting to hear her try so many new things and do them so well. © Heather Phares /TiVo

A reunion of West Coast studio pros, 1993's Airplay for the Planet found guitarist Jay Graydon bringing together many longtime friends for a smooth, laid-back production that evoked the classic soft rock and adult-contemporary pop of the '70s and '80s. A virtuoso guitarist who famously played the solo on Steely Dan's 1977 classic "Peg," Graydon had built up a deep list of performance, songwriting, and production credits by the early '90s. Working with close collaborators keyboardist David Foster and Chicago singer Bill Champlin, he had picked up a Grammy for penning Earth, Wind & Fire's 1979 hit "After the Love Has Gone," which he and Foster also included on their superb 1980 album Airplay. In a sense, Airplay for the Planet works as a follow-up to that one-off project as Graydon and his cohorts bring all of their vast experience to bear on a set of original songs, some classic and some that sound classic. Foster returns for several cuts, including a reworked version of "After the Love Has Gone," this time featuring lyricist Champlin on lead vocals. Also coming on board for equally hooky and relaxed tracks are Toto singer Joseph Williams, vocalist Warren Wiebe, keyboardist/singer Bill Cantos, Kalapana bassist Kenji Sano, trumpeter Jerry Hey, and others. © Matt Collar /TiVo