How to better a record like Revolver? Sign off another by the name of Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. For many, this is truly the greatest pop and rock music of all time, if not one of the most significant works of art in popular culture from the second half of the twentieth century... After discovering the endless possibilities offered to them in the recording studio, John, Paul, George and Ringo continue their crazy musical experiments. More than ever considered as the ‘fifth Beatle’, producer George Martin runs out a magic carpet of discoveries that would go on to influence the future of pop. When this eighth studio album is released in June 1967, the era is one that has embraced the all-out psychedelic, and this concept album is a true hallucinatory trip (not only for Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds). Like the patchwork of his mythical pocket, Sergeant Pepper's journeys through pure pop, manly rock'n'roll, totally trippy sequences (to near worldly scales), retro songs of nursery rhymes, animal noises and even classical music! On the composition side, the duo of Lennon/McCartney is at the top of its game, delivering new songs that are still influential today. © MZ/Qobuz, Translation/BM

An absolute delight, the first full-length album from singer-songwriter supergroup boygenius truly plays to its members' individual and collective strengths. (Credits extend to Autolux's Carla Azar on drums and Jay Som's Melina Duterte on bass.) Each is allowed to shine equally, taking lead on their own songs—but also bring out surprising, shining qualities in the others. "True Blue" sounds like a track from one of Lucy Dacus' solo records, filled out with pure harmonies and grand, low-key drama. Dacus is brilliant at pinpointing fine, evocative details—bandmate Phoebe Bridgers says of her, "Lucy's a noticer"—and there's no shortage in this tale of real, messy friendship that thrills and bruises: "When you moved to Chicago/ You were spinning out … When you called me from the train/ Water freezing in your eyes/ You were happy and I wasn't surprised." Julien Baker's vibrant "$20," likewise, delivers her trademark nervous edge, but the trio take it to unexpected places: First, Bridgers and Dacus thread a gossamer string of ethereal sweetness through Baker's earthiness; later, the three sing over each other in a glorious round robin of conversation until Bridgers, desperate to get her message across, shreds her throat raw yelling out "Can you give me $20?!" They trade lines on "Not Strong Enough," playing around with Cure guitars (acknowledged in Baker's verse: "Drag racing through the canyon/ Singing 'Boys Don't Cry'") and interpolating Sheryl Crow ("Not strong enough to be your man/ I tried, I can't"). That one builds to an excellent '80s anthemic bridge, with the three chanting "Always an angel, never a god." "Cool About It" summons a Simon & Garfunkel-style folk melody and layers on 2023 cleverness with thoughts like, "I took your medication to know what it's like/ Now I have to act like I can't read your mind." "Satanist" delights in off-kilter and herky-jerky chords à la early Weezer, before sliding sideways into a woozy dreamscape. Even a tossed-off lark like "Without You Without Them"—with sweet, a capella Andrews Sisters harmonies—charms. Bridgers' "Emily I'm Sorry" is particularly moody and moving, while stoic "We're in Love" is a stark portrait of Dacus and a guitar for nearly eight tear-jerking minutes before the others float in for support. Perhaps the most revealing is "Leonard Cohen," so intimate you can hear fingers sliding on strings. It's a true story about the trio's friendship and a time Bridgers was so excited to play an Iron and Wine song for her bandmates that she lost track of her surroundings. "On the on-ramp you said/ 'If you love me you will listen to this song'/ And I could tell you were serious/ So I didn't tell you you were driving the wrong way on the interstate/ Until the song was done," Dacus sings, before showing off their grateful love for each other: "Never thought you'd happen to me." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz 

After summing up his maverick tendencies on Scary Monsters, David Bowie aimed for the mainstream with Let's Dance. Hiring Chic guitarist Nile Rodgers as a co-producer, Bowie created a stylish, synthesized post-disco dance music that was equally informed by classic soul and the emerging new romantic subgenre of new wave, which was ironically heavily inspired by Bowie himself. Let's Dance comes tearing out of the gate, propulsed by the skittering "Modern Love," the seductively menacing "China Girl," and the brittle funk of the title track. All three songs became international hits, and for good reason -- they're catchy, accessible pop songs that have just enough of an alien edge to make them distinctive. However, that careful balance is quickly thrown off by a succession of pleasant but unremarkable plastic soul workouts. "Cat People" and a cover of Metro's "Criminal World" are relatively strong songs, but the remainder of the album indicates that Bowie was entering a songwriting slump. However, the three hits were enough to make the album a massive hit, and their power hasn't diminished over the years, even if the rest of the record sounds like an artifact.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

This fifth studio album by Kate Bush is often considered one of her masterpieces. The themes explored and the general atmosphere on Hounds of Love once again demonstrate the singer-songwriter’s intelligence, especially in the subtle way she mixes darkness with lightness. The single Running Up That Hill - a huge hit in 1985 - perfectly testifies to this, as Kate Bush suggests how men and women could resolve their differences by walking in each other’s shoes ("And if I only could/I'd make a deal with God/And I'd get him to swap our places"). The driving electronic drums that envelop the song illustrate the singer's never-ending optimism despite the melancholic-tinged melody.Bush’s ambivalence is also palpable on The Big Sky, a song that is innocent and dark in equal measure. Musically speaking, the album echoes her double vision since we find Kate Bush’s beloved synths (especially the Fairlight) mixed with acoustic and sometimes traditional instruments (especially in the very Irish-sounding Jig of Life). As usual, she sprinkles various references to horror movies into her songs. In the disturbing song Hello Earth she quotes Jacques Tourneur (Night of the Demon, 1957) and uses choirs from Nosferatu the Vampyre (Werner Herzog, 1979). Not to mention the lyrics on Hounds of Love, which are worthy of a Hitchcock nightmare. Alongside these tense moments, Kate Bush soothes us with softer songs, such as the ballad Dream of Sheep with its prevailing piano. A rich, intelligent, elegant, audacious album. In one word: a masterpiece. © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

In 2010, ECM released Jasmine, an informal archival recording of standards between old friends who hadn't worked together in over three decades. The recordings were made at Keith Jarrett's Cavelight home studio in 2007. The nine tunes on Last Dance are taken from those same sessions. There are two alternate takes of tracks from the earlier album. "Where Can I Go Without You" is played at a similar tempo, yet offers more lyricism from Charlie Haden. Gordon Jenkins' "Goodbye," a well-known Benny Goodman theme, closes the set, but it's slower here, more emotionally resonant; almost poignant in the way it reveals something deeper than its articulation on the earlier volume. Thelonious Monk's "'Round Midnight" has been done by Jarrett before, but here it is offered with a curious, almost strange intro. As it unfolds, it reveals an affection for its melody that he's not previously displayed. Haden's confident ability to assert the correct note for each phrase has long been a trademark in his playing, but the warmth he offers to it here is remarkable. He remains open and inquisitive about its lyric rather than engaging in a nostalgic presentation. He knows there are still possibilities inside its framework. "Everything Happens to Me" is more uptempo, but far from quick. Haden's woody tone and impeccable swing add dimension to Jarrett's songlike pianism in the melody and solo. Bud Powell's "Dance of the Infidels" is not played with breakneck athleticism, but is sprightly and fluid. Jarrett digs with delight into the intricate melody, offering a punchy sense of reflexiveness in his solo, while Haden strides along. In his own solo, the bassist once more peels back the skin in the harmony and finds hints of several other melodies all placed within different sections of the tune's body. The elegance in the presentation of Cole Porter's "Everytime We Say Goodbye" reveals the pair's confidence in their interplay. They don't overstate anything; the music provides meaning all on its own. They relax into its beauty playing toward one another as hints, suggestions, and references to popular music history bridge the space between. Last Dance is a necessary addendum to Jasmine; it fleshes out the confident, mature, amiable, and eloquent speech in the canonical language these two jazz masters share.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Using the textured sonics of The Unforgettable Fire as a basis, U2 expanded those innovations by scaling back the songs to a personal setting and adding a grittier attack for its follow-up, The Joshua Tree. It's a move that returns them to the sweeping, anthemic rock of War, but if War was an exploding political bomb, The Joshua Tree is a journey through its aftermath, trying to find sense and hope in the desperation. That means that even the anthems -- the epic opener "Where the Streets Have No Name," the yearning "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" -- have seeds of doubt within their soaring choruses, and those fears take root throughout the album, whether it's in the mournful sliding acoustic guitars of "Running to Stand Still," the surging "One Tree Hill," or the hypnotic elegy "Mothers of the Disappeared." So it might seem a little ironic that U2 became superstars on the back of such a dark record, but their focus has never been clearer, nor has their music been catchier, than on The Joshua Tree. Unexpectedly, U2 have also tempered their textural post-punk with American influences. Not only are Bono's lyrics obsessed with America, but country and blues influences are heard throughout the record, and instead of using these as roots, they're used as ways to add texture to the music. With the uniformly excellent songs -- only the clumsy, heavy rock and portentous lyrics of "Bullet the Blue Sky" fall flat -- the result is a powerful, uncompromising record that became a hit due to its vision and its melody. Never before have U2's big messages sounded so direct and personal.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Slippery When Wet wasn't just a breakthrough album for Bon Jovi; it was a breakthrough for hair metal in general, marking the point where the genre officially entered the mainstream. Released in 1986, it presented a streamlined combination of pop, hard rock, and metal that appealed to everyone -- especially girls, whom traditional heavy metal often ignored. Slippery When Wet was more indebted to pop than metal, though, and the band made no attempt to hide its commercial ambition, even hiring an outside songwriter to co-write two of the album's biggest singles. The trick paid off as Slippery When Wet became the best-selling album of 1987, beating out contenders like Appetite for Destruction, The Joshua Tree, and Michael Jackson's Bad. Part of the album's success could be attributed to Desmond Child, a behind-the-scenes songwriter who went on to write hits for Aerosmith, Michael Bolton, and Ricky Martin. With Child's help, Bon Jovi penned a pair of songs that would eventually define their career -- “Living on a Prayer” and “You Give Love a Bad Name” -- two teenage anthems that mixed Springsteen's blue-collar narratives with straightforward, guitar-driven hooks. The band's characters may have been down on their luck -- they worked dead-end jobs, pined for dangerous women, and occasionally rode steel horses -- but Bon Jovi never presented a problem that couldn’t be cured by a good chorus, every one of which seemed to celebrate a glass-half-full mentality. Elsewhere, the group turned to nostalgia, using songs like “Never Say Goodbye” and “Wild in the Streets” to re-create (or fabricate) an untamed, sex-filled youth that undoubtedly appealed to the band’s teen audience. Bon Jovi wasn't nearly as hard-edged as Mötley Crüe or technically proficient as Van Halen, but the guys smartly played to their strengths, shunning the extremes for an accessible, middle-of-the-road approach that wound up appealing to more fans than most of their peers. “It’s alright if you have a good time,” Jon Bon Jovi sang on Slippery When Wet’s first track, “Let It Rock,” and those words essentially served as a mantra for the entire hair metal genre, whose carefree, party-heavy attitude became the soundtrack for the rest of the ‘80s.© Andrew Leahey /TiVo

Never underestimate Cher. Somehow this unstoppable chanteuse, who has been making solo albums since 1965, had never released a Christmas album until now. In typical Cher fashion, it's a glossy, super-produced session that covers all the styles she's mastered over the years, while also cannily touching some familiar bases of Christmas music. The splashy, catchy by-the-numbers dancefloor filler, "DJ Play a Christmas Song," a creation of six songwriters, rightly puts her booming vocals front and center. Darlene Love, Stevie Wonder, Michael Bublé Cyndi Lauper and Tyga are an impressive guest list with each appearing on a track. While the Tyga and downbeat Bublé tracks are forgettable, Stevie Wonder adds a trademark harmonica solo and a heartfelt laugh to "What Christmas Means to Me." Opening with the bells heard in the original version, Cher leans into a bravura take of Charles Brown's classic blues plea, "Please Come Home for Christmas." She slays another early classic, digging into "Run Rudolph Run," proving again that she has few equals as a pop singer as she deftly swings through Chuck Berry's brilliant lyrics: "Said Santa to a girl child, 'What would please you most to get?'/ 'A little baby doll that can cry, sleep, drink and wet'/ And then away went Rudolph, he was whizzin' like a Saber jet." A convincing replica of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound hovers around "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" which features Darlene Love, who sang lead on the gold standard 1963 version on Spector's nonpareil A Christmas Gift for You.  Cher gives a credible run at Eartha Kitt's slinky hit, "Santa Babyn" and a cover of The Zombies "This Will Be Our Year," is an effective, non-seasonal closer. Hitting many of the right notes with plenty of sparkle, Cher's first Christmas outing is an instant classic.  © Robert Baird/Qobuz

The reason to mention the "particulars" of this document of informal sessions is because Keith Jarrett went to the trouble of doing so in his liner notes: they came about in the aftermath of he and Charlie Haden playing together during Ramblin' Boy, a documentary film about Haden. The duo, who hadn't played together in over 30 years, got along famously and decided to do some further recording in Jarrett's Cavelight home studio without an end result in mind. The tapes sat -- though were discussed often -- for three years before a decision was made to release some of them. Jasmine is a collection of love songs; most are standards played by two stellar improvisers. Picking out highlights on this eight-song, hour-long set is difficult because the dry warmth of these performances is multiplied by deeply intuitive listening and the near symbiotic, telepathic nature of the playing. The entire proceeding flows seamlessly. The depth of emotion in Peggy Lee's and Victor Young's "Where Can I Go Without You" opens the world of the bereft lover -- and Haden's solo seems to make her/him speak. Jarrett's intro to "I'm Gonna Laugh You Right Out of My Life," by Cy Coleman and Joseph McCarthy, reveals in its lyric just how woefully ironic this tune is. The loss and reverie steeped in false bravado are expressed in Jarrett's arpeggios and underscored by Haden's emphasis on single notes during the changes and a deep woody tone he gets in the combination of skeletal flourishes during Jarrett's solo. On the surface it might seem that the inclusion of Joe Sample's "One Day I'll Fly Away" is an odd inclusion; yet it acts on some level as the hinge piece for the set. Its simplicity and sparseness are offset by the profound lyricism Jarrett imbues it with. Haden asserts, quietly of course, that the complex emotions in the tune go beyond any language -- other than music's -- to express. After a devastatingly sad reading Gordon Jenkins' "Goodbye" with Jarrett at his most poignant and clean, a brief reading of Jerome Kern's and Oscar Hammerstein's "Don't Ever Leave Me" closes the set. The way it's played, this tune is not a plea, but a poetically uttered assertion between lovers. Jasmine is, ultimately, jazz distilled to its most essential; it not only expresses emotion and beauty, but discovers them in every moment of its performance.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Diana Krall has a good voice and plays decent piano, but this somewhat ridiculously packaged Verve CD seems like an obvious attempt to turn her into a pop icon, and sex symbol to boot. The bland arrangements by Claus Ogerman (who conducts the London Symphony Orchestra or the Los Angeles Session Orchestra on each track) border on easy listening, while Krall and her various supporting musicians, including John Pisano, Russell Malone, Christian McBride, and Peter Erskine (among others), clearly seem stifled by their respective roles. There are plenty of strong compositions here, including standards like "I Remember You," "The Night We Called It a Day," and "I Get Along Without You Very Well," but the unimaginative and often syrupy charts take their toll on the performances. What is even sillier is the label's insistence on attempting to photograph the artist in various sultry poses, which she evidently wants to discourage by refusing to provide much of a smile (the rumor is that she's not happy with this part of the business at all). If you are looking for unchallenging background music, this will fit the bill, but jazz fans are advised to check out Krall's earlier releases instead.© Ken Dryden /TiVo

How to better a record like Revolver? Sign off another by the name of Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. For many, this is truly the greatest pop and rock music of all time, if not one of the most significant works of art in popular culture from the second half of the twentieth century... After discovering the endless possibilities offered to them in the recording studio, John, Paul, George and Ringo continue their crazy musical experiments. More than ever considered as the ‘fifth Beatle’, producer George Martin runs out a magic carpet of discoveries that would go on to influence the future of pop. When this eighth studio album is released in June 1967, the era is one that has embraced the all-out psychedelic, and this concept album is a true hallucinatory trip (not only for Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds). Like the patchwork of his mythical pocket, Sergeant Pepper's journeys through pure pop, manly rock'n'roll, totally trippy sequences (to near worldly scales), retro songs of nursery rhymes, animal noises and even classical music! On the composition side, the duo of Lennon/McCartney is at the top of its game, delivering new songs that are still influential today. © MZ/Qobuz, Translation/BM

Expanding on the concept of Songs for Young Lovers!, In the Wee Small Hours was a collection of ballads arranged by Nelson Riddle. The first 12" album recorded by Sinatra, Wee Small Hours was more focused and concentrated than his two earlier concept records. It's a blue, melancholy album, built around a spare rhythm section featuring a rhythm guitar, celesta, and Bill Miller's piano, with gently aching strings added every once and a while. Within that melancholy mood is one of Sinatra's most jazz-oriented performances -- he restructures the melody and Miller's playing is bold throughout the record. Where Songs for Young Lovers! emphasized the romantic aspects of the songs, Sinatra sounds like a lonely, broken man on In the Wee Small Hours. Beginning with the newly written title song, the singer goes through a series of standards that are lonely and desolate. In many ways, the album is a personal reflection of the heartbreak of his doomed love affair with actress Ava Gardner, and the standards that he sings form their own story when collected together. Sinatra's voice had deepened and worn to the point where his delivery seems ravished and heartfelt, as if he were living the songs.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Since starting out ten years ago as a hip-hop and chill electro producer for Délicieuse Musique, Parisian electronic producer Viken Arman has established himself as one of the leading names on the melodic house scene, exporting his contemplative music to all four corners of the globe. But for his first album, he took refuge in the beating heart of the global electronic scene, in Berlin. The city of a thousand clubs has often been a springboard for the artists it has hosted over the last twenty years, and Arman is no exception. Though he may have dreamed of a first album filled with collaborations with jazz musicians and singers, on Alone Together (the title says it all) he stands proudly alone, without guests or vocals. "What's important is that it's aligned with the present moment. You don't always have to overthink it", he philosophises. Throughout the writing of the album the energy of dance music is ever-present, with tracks of varying formats at 2, 4 and 9 minutes in length, as well as twists such as the unstoppable “You Don’t Hurt Me” where he accelerates the beat right at the drop before going into electro swing mode, breathing an irresistible pulse into the second half of the track. He alternates between shamanic house à la Acid Pauli (with whom he released “Reading from a Secret” in 2022) and French Touch-style house (“Can't Do Without You”) before bringing this trippy journey to a close with “Alone Together”, launched by a cosmic synth which is joined by an endlessly stubborn keyboard loop. One for the club or the desert! © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

Opening with a track entitled No Good? A surefire way to help listeners understand that what comes next is rock’n’roll inspired by the golden age of guitar. It’s easy to see why the TV series Vinyl chose the the track to integrate into their soundtrack. Kaleo mark their territory definitively here with energetic rock, deft instrumentalism and some great folk ballads. The vocals of JJ Julius Son goes from are at times rough, and at others, crystalline – the dynamism is impressive from start to finish. There is an element of brilliance on their album A/B (Way Down We Go). With the likes of the Jacquire King (Kings of Leon) and Mike Crossey (Arctic Monkeys), Kaleo has definitely ensured the quality of production – and the sound on this album is a testament to that fact. An incredibly diverse project well deserving of our Qobuzism award!

In her memoir, Brandi Carlile sings the praises of The Secret Sisters. She loves them so much that she and bandmates Phil and Tim Hanseroth produced the duo's last two albums, including 2020's Grammy-nominated Saturn Return. Carlile's not back for Mind, Man, Medicine—John Paul White (formerly of his own great duo, the Civil Wars) and Ben Tanner have stepped in to co-produce with Alabama-born siblings Laura Rogers and Lydia Slagle (née Rogers)—but the sisters' Americana magic is still secure, as are their crystalline harmonies. In fact, they've never sounded better than on knockout track "Never Walk Away," as their voices circle each other like twisting vines climbing toward the sun. The velvety drama conjures up the feel of Roy Orbison and starts out with a solemn promise—"I would never walk away from you/ Never even got it in my head to"—before it abruptly, chillingly shifts: "And I am not your friend anymore ... You gave a parting gift in your departure/ One more favor I cannot return." The harmonies also particularly shine on dreamy "Space," co-written with the wonderful Jessie Baylin. Hushed, and so tender it's almost unbearable, "If the World Was a House" was co-written with Ruston Kelly, and it has the slightly doomed feel of his best songs: "If the world was a house and it was on fire/ Would we just put it out or let it burn higher?" the sisters sing. You can hear Carlile's influence, as well as that of the Everly Brothers, on sweet "Paperweight," which features fiddle by Larry Campbell (Paul Simon, Levon Helm). There are traditional folk moments ("I've Got Your Back"), gentle country shuffle ("Bear With Me") and hymnal solemnity ("Planted"). "I Needed You" features the orchestra of legendary FAME Studios of Muscle Shoals, the sisters' hometown. And in a truly excellent turn, Rogers and Slagle tap into a deep Bonnie Raitt vein and find a whole new area where they excel. "All the Ways" is a slow-burn stunner that features Ray LaMontagne, while "Same Water" is lush R&B soul, burnished with fiddle. It's all about contemplation and second guessing and the weight of the world, without sounding victimized. "So how is everybody doing out there?/ Are you spinning round, lost and found/ Do you feel it too?/ Is there even anybody out there?/ We're all drowning in the same water as you." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz