Yusuf is a talented singer and songwriter with an interesting past – in the 1960s and '70s he was the internationally famous pop singer Cat Stevens, whose thoughtful, soulful songs often had a spiritual bent. After the release of his 1978 album Back to Earth, Cat Stevens walked away from his career in music, embracing the Muslim faith and taking the name Yusuf Islam. In 2006, he released the album An Other Cup, credited to Yusuf, that found him gingerly easing back into the folk-influenced pop that made him famous, and since then, Yusuf has been making music that aims to strike a balance between the musical personality of his most famous work and his present-day spiritual focus and his dreams of a more just, peaceful, and generous world. In terms of this match of form and content, 2023's King of a Land may be the best album Yusuf has delivered since returning to popular music (and like his last several releases, it's credited to Yusuf/Cat Stevens, suggesting he's at peace with his musical past while wanting to remind us he's not exactly the man he used to be). Working with Paul Samwell-Smith, who produced the bulk of his 1970s work, on King of a Land Yusuf writes melodies that are more artful than his best-known hits but have a very recognizable warmth, and a mood that finds room for both joy and gravity. The lyrics are open in his devotion to God and our shared need for a more merciful world. The album's artwork features illustrations by Peter H. Reynolds, portraying a young boy in situations that match the stories and themes of the songs, and many of the tunes feel like fables for young and old, songs whose messages are clear but express their lessons with a gentle touch that doesn't feel doctrinaire or judgemental. (Significantly, "Son of Mary" is a compact retelling of the life of Jesus, subtly but firmly affirming that we all worship the same God). King of a Land is not quite pop-folk in the way "Peace Train" or "Moonshadow" were, yet the music is engaging and seems intended to soothe a troubled spirit, and though Yusuf's voice is just a bit sandy around the edges compared to his salad days, his performances are passionate without histrionics and speak of a wisdom he wants to share with all willing to listen. It's a well crafted and often moving album that mixes a bit of Cat Stevens' sound with Yusuf's heart and soul, and it honors both with skill and sincerity.© Mark Deming /TiVo

As a hugely successful Americana collaborator, guitarist John Leventhal has helped shape the careers of artists including Rosanne Cash and Shawn Colvin, for whom he produced and co-wrote the Record and Song of the Year Grammy-winning "Sunny Came Home" in 1997. For his first solo album, Leventhal goes eclectic. Many of the tracks on Rumble Strip are atmospheric glimpses, sketches tossed off for fun that rely more on textures than a melody: "Marion and Sam," a short transcription of a Bernard Hermann cue from the film Psycho; opener "Floyd Cramer’s Dream." The fully composed title track—enhanced with judicious use of reverb—weaves in and out between chords and single notes. A pleasant surprise is that left alone, Leventhal can sing reasonably well, as he proves in "The Only Ghost," a co-write with Marc Cohn that the pair originally meant to pitch to Dr. John.Which gets to the motivation behind this rare glimpse behind the curtain; this is what Leventhal does for his own pleasure. And in that way, Rumble Strip has an appealing intimacy and a refreshing laid-back approach. Leventhal performed, recorded and mixed everything here, with Cash adding guest vocals on three tracks and horn players Rick Depofi and Donald Sorah each appearing once.  Acoustic guitars are used almost exclusively.  The recording uses a close mic and is very quiet, which overall suits the mood except on "JL’s Hymn #2" when an odd buzzing continues throughout the song.  A soft snapshot of a musical conjurer at home with his guitars.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

While songwriter J.J. Cale has established himself as an elusive and even reluctant legend in popular music with his sporadic string of releases over the last 38 years, he's never drastically changed his approach. Cale is a workmanlike songwriter whose roots in blues, Okie folk, and roots rock music have been informing his tales of travel, nocturnal pleasure, and everyday life all the while. Even the acclaimed but spaced out Travel Log (which was Cale's equivalent to Neil Young's Trans) never managed to root his sound that far afield from its wellspring. 2009's Roll On, is more strange, laid-back grooves and road-weary tales of quark strangeness and charm from an inveterate master. Where the erratic but acclaimed Road to Escondido with Eric Clapton reeked of laziness and kitsch, Roll On is steeped deep in slow boogie, slower jump jazz, swampy blues, and minor-key laid-back guitar workouts. Cale not only plays guitar and sings here, but on almost all of these cuts he does double and triple duty on drums, bass, and even Rhodes piano! His guests -- including Dave Teegarden and Jim Keltner on drums on a track each, and Clapton on one number -- only appear on four of these dozen tracks. Check, "Who Knew?," the jazzy shuffle that opens the set. Cale plays everything but the drum kit (Teegarden), and lays down a smoking set of Wes Montgomery-esque chords as well as some funky Rhodes. His syncopated vocals all slip right down the backbone of the blues with lyrics worthy of Louis Jordan. "Where the Sun Don't Shine" commences with some spooky synth loops (that could have come from Travel Log), and beefy guitars, with a rudimentary snare and hi-hat keeping the I-IV-V progression moving and popping. The guitars are pure Cale choogle and the bassline is just off enough from the main rhythmic progression to add a freaky twist. Other standouts include the acoustic electric boogie "Strange Days," with some mutant five-string banjo and mandolin work from the artist; the triple-time, space groove of "Fonda-Lina" that feels like it was taken from a B-movie soundtrack during a motel lounge scene, and the popping roots rock of the title track with Slowhand and Keltner. This is a set that proves that Cale is still a vital artist who has a few interesting tricks up his sleeve, even if he doesn't change his attack all that much. Hell, he doesn't need to, he's got weight, sleight of hand, and the Okie soul in every cell of his being, and it all comes out in the tunes. This one is solid from top to bottom.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

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It speaks well of U.S. Grammy Award nominators that this short release by a largely unknown singer, Julia Bullock, who calls herself simply a Classical Singer on all tracks except for Samuel Barber's Knoxville, Summer of 1915, Op. 24 (there, she's labeled a soprano), earned a Best Classical Solo Vocal Album nomination in 2023. It is especially impressive in that the album was recorded in 2020 but delayed in release by the COVID-19 pandemic. Short it may be, but it contains multitudes; Bullock's versatility is astonishing, from the beginning, where she rises out of the depths on the Oscar Brown, Jr. jazz classic Brown Baby, to the very end, where she delivers perfectly creditable English folk-pop in Sandy Denny's Who Knows Where the Time Goes? lt is quite a ride in between, with classical pieces from Barber and John Adams (a scorching excerpt from El Niño), a jazz song by Billy Taylor, an African American spiritual (City Called Heaven), and a song by the mysterious and unclassifiable Connie Converse, from whose song One by One the album's title is taken. If that is not enough, Bullock is accompanied mostly by Christian Reif (her husband) on piano but also offers two orchestral settings with the Philharmonia Orchestra of London, where she has been in residence. It all fits together; it is anywhere from strong to thrilling, and it marks the arrival of a major talent.© James Manheim /TiVo

Although it hardly deserved it, Try This -- P!nk's 2003 sequel to her 2001 artistic and commercial breakthrough, M!ssundaztood -- turned out to be something of a flop, selling considerably less than its predecessor and generating no true hit singles. Perhaps this downturn in sales was due to the harder rock direction she pursued on Try This, perhaps the songs she co-wrote with Rancid's Tim Armstrong weren't quite pop even if they were poppy, perhaps it was just a matter of timing, but the album just didn't click with a larger audience, through no fault of the music, which was the equal to that on M!ssundaztood. When faced with such a commercial disappointment, some artists would crawl back to what made them a star, but not P!nk. Although she does pump up the dance on 2006's I'm Not Dead, it's way too simple to call the album a return to "Get the Party Started" -- P!nk is far too complex to do something so straightforward. No, P!nk is complicated, often seemingly contradictory: she tears down "porno paparazzi girls" like Paris Hilton just as easily as she flaunts her bling on "'Cuz I Can"; she celebrates that "I Got Money Now"; she'll swagger and snarl and swear like a sailor, then turn around and write sweet songs of support to a teenager, or a knowingly melancholy reflection like "I Got Money Now"; she'll collaborate with Britney Spears hitmaker Max Martin on one track, then turn around and bring in the Indigo Girls for support on a stripped-down protest song. She'll try anything, and she does on I'm Not Dead. It Ping-Pongs between dense dancefloor anthems and fuzzy power pop, acoustic folk-rock and anthemic power ballads, hard rock tunes powered by electronic beats and dance tunes sung with the zeal of a rocker. It's not just that P!nk tries a lot of different sounds, it's that she seizes the freedom to hurl insults at both George W. Bush and a sleazoid who tried to pick her up at a bar, or to end a chorus with a chant of "Ice cream, ice cream/We all want ice cream." Far from sounding cow-towed by the reaction to Try This, P!nk sounds liberated, making music that's far riskier and stranger than anything else in mainstream pop in 2006. And it's a testament to her power as both a musician and a persona that for this record, even though she's working with singer/songwriter Butch Walker, Max Martin, and Teddy Geiger's cohort, Billy Mann -- her most mainstream collaborators since LA Reid and Babyface helmed her 2000 debut, Can't Take Me Home -- she sounds the strangest she ever has, and that's a positively thrilling thing to hear. That's because she not only sounds strange, she sounds stronger as a writer and singer, as convincing when she's singing the bluesy, acoustic "The One That Got Away" as when she's taunting and teasing on "Stupid Girls" or "U + Ur Hand" or when she's singing a propulsive piece of pure pop like "Leave Me Alone (I'm Lonely)." In other words, she sounds complex: smart, funny, sexy, catchy, and best of all, surprising and unpredictable. This is the third album in a row where she's thrown a curve ball, confounding expectations by delivering a record that's wilder, stronger, and better than the last. And while that's no guarantee that I'm Not Dead will be a bigger hit than Try This, at least it's proof positive that there are few pop musicians more exciting in the 2000s than P!nk.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

After four years spent touring the world, Disclosure's two British brothers returned to the studio. And they were quite productive, producing around 200 tracks! For this third album – which follows their 2015 record Caracal – the duo whittled that number down to 11 tracks, featuring a dreamy lineup dominated by rappers and Malian artists. As always, the atmosphere of the past seeps into the present. Kelis gets the ball rolling with Watch Your Step, a radio-friendly track that brings The Neptunes circa 2000 to mind, before handing over to rapping duo Aminé and slowthai who let loose on the joyful break beat of My High, while Chicago rapper Mick Jenkins, a revelation from the last decade, sets his flow to a more mellow beat (Who Knew?). Last but not least, Common (a “fantasy” for the Lawrence brothers) concludes the album on Rêverie, a track that perfectly lives up to its name. The big hit of the record however goes to the Malian Fatoumata Diawara, with whom they had already collaborated in 2018 on the single Ultimatum. She’s perfect on Douha (Mali Mali) in aerial deep house mode - Disclosure’s signature sound since starting out. A sound, which has not lost any of its value. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz 

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It's hard to know what to make of Eminem, even if you know that half of what he says is sincere and half is a put-on; the trick is realizing that there's truth in the joke, and vice versa. Many dismissed his considerable skills as a rapper and social satirist because the vulgarity and gross-out humor on The Slim Shady LP were too detailed for some to believe that it was anything but real. To Eminem's credit, he decided to exploit that confusion on his masterful second record, The Marshall Mathers LP. Eminem is all about blurring the distinction between reality and fiction, humor and horror, satire and documentary, so it makes perfect sense that The Marshall Mathers LP is no more or no less "real" than The Slim Shady LP. It is, however, a fairly brilliant expansion of his debut, turning his spare, menacing hip-hop into a hyper-surreal, wittily disturbing thrill ride. It's both funnier and darker than his debut, and Eminem's writing is so sharp and clever that the jokes cut as deeply as the explorations of his ruptured psyche. The production is nearly as evocative as the raps, with liquid basslines, stuttering rhythms, slight sound effects, and spacious soundscapes. There may not be overpowering hooks on every track, but the album works as a whole, always drawing the listener in. But, once you're in, Eminem doesn't care if you understand exactly where he's at, and he doesn't offer any apologies if you can't sort the fact from the fiction. As an artist, he's supposed to create his own world, and with this terrific second effort, he certainly has. It may be a world that is as infuriating as it is intriguing, but it is without question his own, which is far more than most of his peers are able to accomplish at the dawn of a new millennium.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

It is rather surprising to see Esa-Pekka Salonen and the Los Angeles Philharmonic's Sony Classical recording Herrmann: The Film Scores in a revitalized Great Performances package. This campaign was begun in the 1980s as a way to reactivate older CBS Masterworks titles at a lower price, the series being typified by a newspaper-style cover, heavily reduced liner notes, and a gratuitous listing of other titles within the series. We thought we'd seen the last of Great Performances a long time ago, but admittedly the market penetration of this imprint was so successful it would be foolhardy for Sony to abandon it altogether. Herrmann: The Film Scores was an instant classic once it first hit the stores back in 1997. It was the direct result of Salonen's own concern to connect with the musical heritage of his audiences once he was appointed to the post in Los Angeles. Many of the musicians in the Los Angeles Philharmonic had worked, or were actively working within the film community associated with "Hollywood" -- doubtless some were old enough to have worked under Herrmann himself. Bernard Herrmann was arguably the most "serious" among serious musicians to write scores for "A" class motion pictures, and Salonen treats Herrmann's suites to Psycho, Marnie, Vertigo, Fahrenheit 451, and Taxi Driver as though they are "real" music. The sense of independence from the original soundtracks in Herrmann's music is nowhere felt with more ardor than here, not even in Herrmann's own commercial recordings of them, which tend to re-create the visual experience despite that, in recording the music after the fact, he was no longer tied to the tempo of the picture. Salonen has, in concert, conducted this music along with clips of the original films, but on the recording sticks to the suites that Herrmann compiled from them, avoiding repetitive cues and projecting a real beginning and ending to the film score segments selected. These are stirring, intense readings with an urgent sense of energy, and the listener will feel the chilliness of Herrmann's "black and white" string scoring from Psycho.The recording quality is truly fabulous, and there is an SACD version of this album that likely represents Herrmann: The Film Scores to its best advantage in terms of audio. Nonetheless, for those on a budget and with a taste for top-notch orchestral film music performed by a world-class orchestra and conductor, the Great Performances issue of Herrmann: The Film Scores isn't just a bargain, it's a steal.© TiVo