U.K. journeyman Mark Knopfler returns after a six-year gap with 2024's One Deep River, his tenth solo record. Since retiring Dire Straits in the mid-'90s, his output as a singer/songwriter has remained remarkably consistent and uniquely his own. Within his refined roots rock mélange is a multitude of layers; bits of blues, country, and funky R&B rub elbows with Celtic, jazz, folk, and the brand of smooth guitar rock he pioneered with his former band. He is his own establishment, reliable, and at this point in his career, comfortable. Like its predecessor, 2018's Down the Road Wherever, One Deep River doesn't necessarily break new ground for Knopfler, but it does add a clutch of well-written, impeccably played songs to his canon. The breezy, shuffling "Ahead of the Game" is an instant classic with a memorable riff and lyrics describing a road band's itinerant lifestyle: "it was nothing but the hits in a room downtown, they're noisy as hell, but nice." These are the kind of smart slice-of-life lyrics Knopfler has built his career on and can still deliver with a craftsman's ease. He gets down and dirty on the rugged "Scavenger's Yard" and wrestles with past regrets on the gentle "Watch Me Go." There are charismatic story songs detailing robberies ("Tunnel 13") and dusty boomtowns ("Janine"), but Knopfler is often at his best when he allows himself to be sentimental. The river referred to in the album's title (and pictured on its cover) is the Tyne, the major artery of Newcastle in Northeast England where he grew up. One Deep River closes with its poignant title track, a paean to an enduring landmark he has no doubt crossed countless times in a life well spent as a traveling musician.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

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Although electronica had its fair share of chillout classics prior to the debut of Air, the lion's share were either stark techno (Warp) or sample-laden trip-hop (Mo' Wax). But while Air had certainly bought records and gear based on the artists that had influenced them, they didn't just regurgitate (or sample) them; they learned from them, digesting their lessons in a way that gave them new paths to follow. They were musicians in a producer's world, and while no one could ever accuse their music of being danceable, it delivered the emotional power of great dance music even while pushing the barriers of what "electronica" could or should sound like. (Never again would Saint Etienne be the only band of a certain age to reveal their fondness for Burt Bacharach.) The Modulor EP had displayed astonishing powers of mood and texture, but it was Air's full-length debut, Moon Safari, that proved they could also write accessible pop songs like "Sexy Boy" and "Kelly Watch the Stars." But it wasn't all pop. The opener, "La Femme d'Argent," was an otherworldly beginning, with a slinky bassline evoking Serge Gainsbourg's Histoire de Melody Nelson and a slow glide through seven minutes of growing bliss (plus a wonderful keyboard solo). The vocoderized "Remember" relaunched a wave of robot pop that hadn't been heard in almost 20 years, and the solos for harmonica and French horn on "Ce Matin La" made the Bacharach comparisons direct. Unlike most electronica producers, Air had musical ideas that stretched beyond samplers or keyboards, and Moon Safari found those ideas wrapped up in music that was engaging, warm, and irresistible.© John Bush /TiVo

After performing his second-to-last selection, "White Light/White Heat," a tune by Lou Reed, the songwriter who most influenced Ziggy Stardust, David Bowie's enduring and indelible persona, Bowie dropped this little nugget on his fans (and bandmates): "Not only is it the last show of the tour, but it's the last show that we'll ever do. Thank you." He then went into a magnificent version of "Rock & Roll Suicide," a song that gives a glimpse of where Bowie could have gone, not to suicide, but to the style of rock & roll that a long-term band can provide. Had Bowie kept the Spiders from Mars together, unique flashes like the version of "Let's Spend the Night Together" or the striking "All the Young Dudes" would have continued, a tight little rock & roll band providing a balance that dissipated when the artist branched out on his own. The other unnerving thing about this double-LP soundtrack of a concert taped in 1973 and finally released in 1982 is that there are bootlegs which have more to offer sonically. The thin recording is shameful: don't expect Pink Floyd's Delicate Sound of Thunder or even the Rolling Stones' wonderfully sludgy "Get Your Ya Ya's Out." The remix of this only official live album from the Ziggy Stardust shows is dreadful. Ziggy Stardust: The Motion Picture doesn't have the electric excitement of the Live in Santa Monica '72 boot, and that's the fault of the remix by Mike Moran, Bruce Tergeson, Tony Visconti, and Bowie. Another bootleg, David Bowie with the Spiders from Mars, London, July 3, 1973, is the exact same Ziggy performance, but it comes across better, much better. According to Pimm Jal de la Parra's book David Bowie: The Concert Tapes, the bootleg was issued from the ABC TV 1974 broadcast. The bootleg also has "Jean Genie and "Love Me Do," which feature Jeff Beck on guitar, Beck's performances being absent from the official RCA soundtrack release. The shame of it all is that this double disc was released after David Live and Stage, and while the upside is it makes for a rare, three double-live sets from one performer, the downside is that the best of those three albums has the worst mix on official record. Also, had RCA released the October 1, 1972 Boston Music Hall show -- which was brilliant, despite Bowie having a cold that night -- or this July 3, 1973 London Hammersmith Odeon program back in the day, it could have had an enormous effect on Bowie's career. At that point in time, the fans wanted more Ziggy, and the timing of this release only shows how important it is to get the material out while it's hot. Just ask Peter Frampton, Bob Seger, and the J. Geils Band, who solidified their audiences with double-live sets at crucial points in their careers. Nonetheless, everything here is essential David Bowie; it is a great performance, and you definitely need it for your Bowie collection. The only thing better would be Lou Reed himself finally releasing the September 1973 first gig of his Rock 'n' Roll Animal Band, which was, as they say, the real thing.© Joe Viglione /TiVo

Hailed for songwriting skill and an unironic embrace of outlaw country, Chris Stapleton, on his fourth album, puts his vocal versatility on impressive display. Supported by a moody, shadowy string section, he unfurls a torch-singer side on "Cold," a heartbreaker that lives up to its name in feel and lyrics—"Why you got to be so cold/ Why you got to go and cut me like a knife/ Put our love on ice." The lowdown-and-dirty guitar of "Whiskey Sunrise" is matched for power by a wailing blues delivery from Stapleton. And he cuts loose with a Southern-rock howl on the Tom Petty-esque swamp stomp "Devil Always Made Me Think Twice." An early Petty influence is alive and present across Starting Over, with Heartbreakers Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench guesting on guitar and Hammond B3, respectively. Stapleton co-wrote the simmer-to-fury "Watch You Burn" with Campbell, and the guitarist's signature style is front-and-center on "Arkansas," a heavy Southern-rock blues burner celebrating the underrated beauty of the Ozarks. The ghost of Guy Clark also blesses the sessions, as Stapleton covers a back-to-back shot of the songwriter's "Worry B Gone" and "Old Friends" and former with a velocity that makes Willie Nelson's gentle version sound cute. (A flow-like-the-creek cover of John Fogerty's "Joy of My Life" is more faithful.) As on previous releases, Stapleton's wife and collaborator Morgane Stapleton lends angelic vocal harmonies, sweetening the sobering, Kristofferson-sounding ballad "When I'm With You," which find her husband taking stock of middle age and where it goes from there: "I'm 40 years old/ And it looks like the end of the rainbow ain't no pot of gold." She also shows up on that song's spiritual flip side and the album's title track, an optimistic, stripped-down guitar jangle: "I can be your lucky penny/ You can be my four-leaf clover.” Indeed, for all his tough-guy appearance, there's always been a tender side to Stapleton, and he shows every bit of it on "Maggie's Song," an absolute tearjerker about a found dog's life and death that's teed up and ready for a pickup truck commercial. (Nothing wrong with that.) And lest anyone ever doubt his outlaw tendencies, Stapleton ends on an absolutely gorgeous kiss-off to the country capital: "So long Nashville, Tennessee/ You can't have what's left of me." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

While Jethro Tull may have made his fans wait almost twenty years before unveiling a new studio album, The Zealot Gene, released in 2022, its successor has unexpectedly dropped less than a year and a half later. Interestingly, while the previous record showed Jethro Tull seemingly trying to cast aside his progressive rock angle in order to refocus on songs (even though it does retain this concept-album side so typical of many of this genre’s productions), RökFlöte revives a large part of what made up the original combo’s DNA. Here we have Ian Anderson who returns to the transverse flute for almost the entire length of this new chapter, centring around stories drawn from Norse paganism, especially heroes and deities. A look back in time which by no means aimed to displease, Jethro Tull’s music once again has resonating folk accents combined with amplified music and electric guitar contributions (Wolf Unchained), right from the outset. All of a sudden we want to sit by the fire while our minstrel shares his fables and legends. However, in-depth listening to this RökFlöte confirms that while the group has perfectly succeeded in bringing out the best of its music, an instrumental album would have been enough, like in the excellent Voluspo opening, with a few rare words rolled out in a simply spoken narrative. Anderson's voice, while it isn’t monotonous, hardly brings any relief to the ensemble in the same way that perhaps Jon Davison’s voice could on the last Yes. But time travel works; the long instrumental tracks in each song prove how much the group's know-how had simply been buried under a few layers of dust, only to be revealed now in a better light. © Chief Brody/Qobuz

Releasing her second album, at the young age of 22, Samara Joy signs with the iconic label Verve to release Linger Awhile. The title track, first recorded almost 100 years ago in 1923 by Bailey's Lucky Seven, stands out as the band (guitarist Pasquale Grasso, pianist Ben Paterson, bassist David Wong and drummer Kenny Washington) and Samara power through this upbeat tune at a breakneck pace. Samara’s surprisingly mature vocals shine on each track, from the cool lounge-jazz of standards like “Can’t Get Out Of This Mood”, “Nostalgia” and “Social Call”, to her ever so tender rendition of Monk’s “Round Midnight” or the particularly special “Someone to Watch Over Me”, originally by Gershwin. Samara Joy’s voice is full-bodied, rich and silky smooth as she caresses each standard with warmth and tenderness. She manages to update these timeless classics with a modern twist, sometimes singing original lyrics using the melodies of famous instrumental solos. An earnest and elegant album that introduces these foundational jazz standards to a younger audience whilst still pleasing the most serious jazz aficionados. © Jessica Porter-Langson / Qobuz

The debut EP from 15-year-old electronic pop singer/songwriter Billie Eilish, dont smile at me arrived in August 2017 from the Interscope label. Produced and co-written by Eilish's older brother, Finneas O'Connell, the eight-track release features the lush and lonesome single "Ocean Eyes," a song that first went viral for the Los Angeles-based artist in 2016 and brought her to the attention of Interscope. Eilish's sound is sleek, sometimes quirky, and often characterized by clever wordplay. Subsequent singles "watch" and "COPYCAT" were issued in the summer of 2017 in advance of the EP's release.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

Agnes Obel's striking success in her home country of Denmark with her debut is all the more remarkable given how understated Philharmonics is as a listen, a seemingly straightforward piano/vocal album that isn't. Combining a strong ear for immediate appeal -- Obel's deep singing voice is lovely and her ear for a calm hook is crucial -- with a feeling of just-unsettled-enough unease is key. Part of it lies in Obel's ear for vocal arrangements; hearing her own overdubbed harmonies showcases her talents further, both as performer and producer. But there's something that's not trying to be straightforward here. There's an elegant, slipping darkness that creeps in around the corners, like something is being hidden in plain sight. The short instrumental "Falling, Catching" starts off the album on a sweet note -- perhaps sickly sweet, there's something so strangely focused in its intensity that it almost unsettles. Her first vocal provides a bit of necessary contrast on "Riverside" immediately thereafter, but at the same time further showcases how gently unusual Philharmonics ends up being -- it may not be Patty Waters, say, but it's not Vanessa Carlton or KT Tunstall either. The underpinning bass part on the cover of John Cale's "I Keep a Close Watch" set against the high intensity of the lead piano gives a good personal stamp to a standard, but it's her subtle variety throughout the album that impresses even more. There's "Avenue"'s music-box-meets-near-film-noir-jazz on the one hand, while "Louretta," another short instrumental, has a controlled theatricality that seems like it should soundtrack a Neil Gaiman ballet. "On Powdered Ground" has a gentler sweetness that feels like a slight respite toward the end, but Philharmonics in general aims for the darkly beautiful and succeeds on an unexpected level. © Ned Raggett /TiVo

With her sophomore album, 2022's Linger Awhile, Samara Joy achieved an uncommon feat, winning the Grammy Awards for Best Jazz Vocal Album and Best New Artist. While Joy is no stranger to accolades, having emerged to acclaim as the winner of the 2019 Sarah Vaughan International Vocal Jazz Competition, her double success at the Grammys was a surprise for a jazz singer, especially one whose impressive style harks back to icons like the aforementioned Vaughan, Betty Carter, and Dinah Washington. Produced by Matt Pierson, Linger Awhile nicely showcases Joy's verdant tone and adept vocalese skills. Part of the album's charm is how straightforward it is, with Joy framed by her acoustic ensemble featuring longtime guitarist Pasquale Grasso, pianist Ben Paterson, bassist David Wong, and drummer Kenny Washington. There are also tasteful contributions by saxophonist Kendric McCallister, trombonist Donovan Austin, and trumpeter Terrell Stafford. Joy brings a dusky warmth to standards like "Guess Who I Saw Today," "Misty," and an achingly slow rendition of "I'm Confessin' (That I Love You)." Particularly notable is her vocalese take on trumpeter Fats Navarro's "Nostalgia," for which she wrote her own romantic lyrics, including some for the legendary bebop trumpeter's original 1947 solo. While Joy isn't the first jazz singer to sing a transcribed solo with lyrics, her artful attention to detail speaks to her maturity and deep feeling for the music -- aspects redolent throughout Linger Awhile. © Matt Collar /TiVo

In 2024, Air look to provide a compelling demonstration of what English author Simon Reynolds termed "retromania" in his 2010 book of the same title. The French duo is performing their debut album, the revered Moon Safari from 1998, live for the first time in front of an audience. This event celebrates nostalgia (given the album's 25-year-old status, or more precisely, 25 and a half years - at this point, fans are intimately familiar with the melodies of "Sexy Boy" and "Kelly Watch The Stars"). It introduces a sense of novelty and freshness; perhaps since the group have long disappeared from public view and have never before performed this album live.It’s a success: Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoit Dunckel seem as if they’ve returned from another dimension where time hasn’t altered the musicians’ faces or frames, the scenography, resembling a three-dimensional painting, is magical, and the music of Moon Safari is retro-futurist and trippy. This marks a return to the original album, as well as a bonus disc that digs up rare tracks dating from the same period, so there are no stunning revelations over the course of the record’s nine tracks, but we at least can confirm that Air’s music has definitely passed the test of time. An unlikely combination of influences for the time (from prog-rock to cartoon soundtracks, as well as synth pop), the music of Moon Safari was also avant-garde, and paved the (milky) way for the daydreamers of the new millennium. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

Ziggy Stardust wrote the blueprint for David Bowie's hard-rocking glam, and Aladdin Sane essentially follows the pattern, for both better and worse. A lighter affair than Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane is actually a stranger album than its predecessor, buoyed by bizarre lounge-jazz flourishes from pianist Mick Garson and a handful of winding, vaguely experimental songs. Bowie abandons his futuristic obsessions to concentrate on the detached cool of New York and London hipsters, as on the compressed rockers "Watch That Man," "Cracked Actor," and "The Jean Genie." Bowie follows the hard stuff with the jazzy, dissonant sprawls of "Lady Grinning Soul," "Aladdin Sane," and "Time," all of which manage to be both campy and avant-garde simultaneously, while the sweepingly cinematic "Drive-In Saturday" is a soaring fusion of sci-fi doo wop and melodramatic teenage glam. He lets his paranoia slip through in the clenched rhythms of "Panic in Detroit," as well as on his oddly clueless cover of "Let's Spend the Night Together." For all the pleasures on Aladdin Sane, there's no distinctive sound or theme to make the album cohesive; it's Bowie riding the wake of Ziggy Stardust, which means there's a wealth of classic material here, but not enough focus to make the album itself a classic.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Masie Peters, a singer-songwriter who spent time busking in Brighton, U.K., has impressive chops—she can play guitar, write melodies and lyrics, and yes, even sing.  During 2022 Peters built her fanbase online, endured a painful romantic breakup (a.k.a. lots of fertile song material) and opened a tour for Ed Sheeran. Now signed to his record label, Peter's sophomore album is a collaboration that benefits from a solid phalanx of A-list pop producers like Oscar Görres (Taylor Swift, Troye Sivan), Two Inch Punch (Sam Smith, Jessie Ware), Matias Tellez (girl in red), Brad Ellis (Jorja Smith, Little Mix), Joe Rubel (Ed Sheeran, Tom Grennan) and Elvira Anderfjärd (Tove Lo, Katy Perry). The results, loud and in your face throughout, are best heard in the knockout single, "You Lost the Breakup." There are plenty of smart, shiny, insanely catchy mixes, some with ABBA-like leanings, that should vault Peters, a huge Taylor Swift fan, onto that same rarified path. While the hurts of romance is her subject, Peters is no victim, dishing out in equal measure to what she's had to take, ending "You Lost The Breakup," with a proposition from her ex: "Wow, hey, it's been forever, do you wanna get drink, like, together?/ I say 'I'm kinda busy but, like, stay in touch'/ I think, 'Oh shit, I won the breakup.'" Most of these songs, which probably started out as simple acoustic guitar numbers, have been built into extra-large productions, highly produced fragments that often end abruptly. The thumping dance track "Coming of Age," is one place where you notice that Peters is a significantly better lyricist than most pop stars, whipping through lines like "I'm quarrying new ground and I'm burning all your CDs/ Baby I am the Iliad, of course you couldn't read me/ So I'll leave you behind but that don't mean it's easy." Swinging between femme fatale in black leather and platform boots and big-eyed cutesiness, both spiked with the emotions surrounding two of her favorite terms ("snakebite" and "Armageddon"), Peters makes her intentions clear on "Coming of Age": "I know I made you the big star/ I let you butcher my big heart/ But it's my song and my stage/ And it's my coming of age." © Robert Baird/Qobuz

In 1962, Ella Fitzgerald was at the height of her powers, about midway through recording her now-iconic series of "songbook" albums and, two years earlier, having released a barnstormer of a live album, Ella in Berlin, that solidified her position as one of the most talented and popular musicians working in the jazz idiom. Her only competition at the time was, essentially, Frank Sinatra and herself. During the course of 1962, she would release three albums: two complementary collaborations with Nelson Riddle that further pushed her into crossover territory without tarnishing her credibility or minimizing her skills, and the oft-overlooked Rhythm is My Business, a hard-swinging set that comes off breezy and soulful, but is a remarkable document of the strength of Fitzgerald and her band during this era. And it's that strength that's captured on The Lost Berlin Tapes, recorded in concert at Berlin’s Sportpalast that year. Verve Records founder Norman Granz frequently recorded live sets of many of his acts (Fitzgerald especially), and that's what accounts for both the existence and the remarkable fidelity of these "lost" tapes. (Though they were never truly lost; Granz had just stashed them away). From a performance perspective, it's unbelievable that this concert recording sat unheard for more than a half-century. Brimming with energy and benefiting from the confidence that can only come from being at the top of one's game, Ella and her band careen through 17 songs with a full-throated fervor that's greeted with an equally enthusiastic response from the crowd. The set both swings incredibly hard and evinces a cool, sophisticated polish, a combination that, again, pretty much only she and Sinatra were delivering at this scale during the era. It's the sort of casual excellence that's made to look deceptively easy. (And yes, she aces the version of "Mack the Knife" here.) Releases like this—especially in the aftermath of the devastating Universal fire that destroyed so many iconic album masters and so much unreleased material—prove that, even when we think a barrel has been fully scraped or a vault fully excavated, there will always be warm, welcome surprises to be found in the archives of these legendary artists. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

The Hurting would have been a daring debut for a pop-oriented band in any era, but it was an unexpected success in England in 1983, mostly by virtue of its makers' ability to package an unpleasant subject -- the psychologically wretched family histories of Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith -- in an attractive and sellable musical format. Not that there weren't a few predecessors, most obviously John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band album -- which was also, not coincidentally, inspired by the work of primal scream pioneer Arthur Janov. (But Lennon had the advantage of being an ex-Beatle when that meant the equivalent to having a box next to God's in the great arena of life, where Tears for Fears were just starting out.) Decades later, "Pale Shelter," "Ideas as Opiates," "Memories Fade," "Suffer the Children," "Watch Me Bleed," "Change," and "Start of the Breakdown" are powerful pieces of music, beautifully executed in an almost minimalist style. "Memories Fade" offers emotional resonances reminiscent of "Working Class Hero," while "Pale Shelter" functions on a wholly different level, an exquisite sonic painting sweeping the listener up in layers of pulsing synthesizers, acoustic guitar arpeggios, and sheets of electronic sound (and anticipating the sonic texture, if not the precise sound of their international breakthrough pop hit "Everybody Wants to Rule the World"). The work is sometimes uncomfortably personal, but musically compelling enough to bring it back across the decades.© Bruce Eder /TiVo