Those expecting Annie Lennox to come out full-guns-blazing for her solo debut, Diva, with the high energy electro-Europop-meets-American- R&B of her Eurythmics work may be mildly disappointed. The enigmatic vocalist who made a career toying with different notions of gender plays on the concept of fame here -- Lennox dresses up in the persona of a solitary Diva trapped by counterfeit glory. Although the music is strangely muted and understated, the framework offers an effective stage for Lennox's husky voice, showcasing her as much more of a chanteuse than in the past. In fact, the album almost works best as one integrated mood piece rather than a collection of individual songs. Lennox succeeds in carving out a personality distinct from her Eurythmics days with Diva.© Roch Parisien /TiVo

Saxophonist Houston Person and bassist Ron Carter have a duo partnership that goes back at least as far as their two 1990 recordings, Something in Common and Now's the Time! Since those albums, the legendary artists have released several more duo collaborations, each one a thoughtful and minimalist production showcasing their masterful command of jazz standards, blues, and bop. The duo's 2016 effort, the aptly titled Chemistry, is no exception and once again finds Person and Carter communing over a well-curated set of jazz standards. As on their previous albums, Chemistry is a deceptively simple conceit; just two jazz journeymen playing conversational duets on well-known jazz songs. At face value, that is certainly what you get. The deception enters into the equation with just how masterful and nuanced Person and Carter are in each song. Whether it's the way Carter anchors the duo's yearning reading of "But Beautiful" with his languorous, doomy basslines, or the way Person's languorous rubato introduction joins up with Carter on "Fools Rush In," they never fail to find surprising and deeply emotive ways to interpret each song. Similarly, cuts like the poignant "Blame It on My Youth" and the dewy-eyed "I Can't Get Started" are endearing romantic numbers that cradle the listener in the warmth of Person and Carter's warm tones. Elsewhere, they deliver a gleeful version of Thelonious Monk's "Blue Monk," and summon the memory of Carter's former boss, trumpeter Miles Davis, with their jaunty take on "Bye Bye Blackbird." Ultimately, Chemistry is a lovely, heartfelt album of well-loved standards imbued with the duo's decades of experience.© Matt Collar /TiVo

In the year of his 90th birthday (which he would have celebrated on the 23rd of September 2020 had he not died in 2004), Ray Charles is honoured with a new 90-track compilation box set. Just another compilation like all the rest? Yes and no. Ray Charles is undoubtedly one of the most-compiled artists in the history of music. Published by Tangerine, the label that the musician set up at the end of the 50s to keep the rights to his songs, this box set starts out like all the others: with the post-Atlantic hits, Georgia On My Mind, Hit The Road Jack, One Mint Julep, Busted... These are timeless treasures of proto-soul, but there doesn't seem to be much novelty here. The rest is much more interesting, and much rarer: tracks recorded between the second half of the 1960s and the 2000s, many of which were only released on vinyl, never reissued on CD and until now unavailable on digital. This is the first time that Ray Charles' lesser-known years have been given the compilation treatment in this way, and it is a revelation. In the 90s and 2000s, the production of his songs had a synthetic feel, and they did not age too well. These rarer songs are often hidden gems of southern soul, flavoured with country and wrapped in sumptuous symphonic orchestrations. Whether he is singing the Muppets (It's Ain't Easy Being Green) or Gershwin (Summertime, a duet with Cleo Laine), Ray Charles is always deeply moving. Now, the dream is to hear reissues of all these albums in their entirety. © Stéphane Deschamps/Qobuz

After three albums under the name The Marcus King Band (Soul Insight in 2015, the eponymous The Marcus King Band in 2016 and Carolina Confessions in 2018), the Southern prodigy now operates under simply his own name. At only 23 years old, the South Carolina kid has always played freely, a craftsman of a very location-oriented bluesy rock, with outlaw country influences as well as timeless soul à la Atlantic/Stax. Unsurprisingly, El Dorado juggles between sounds that are akin to The Allman Brothers, Faces, The Black Crowes, Gov’t Mule, Tedeschi Trucks Band and The Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main Street. This time, King has called in Dan Auerbach from The Black Keys for production, in order to focus more on the songwriting and the songs’ commercial potential. The spirit of infinite jam sessions that soundtrack a night of slow drinking feels as if it’s been left behind, in favour of more constricted songs. All the better: El Dorado is a flow of Al Green-esque soulful slows (Wildflowers & Wine), more uptempo ballads (One Day She’s Here) and country rock hits (Too Much Whiskey, a nod to Willie Nelson’s Whiskey River). Marcus King has the vocals of a weathered soulman, sometimes conjuring up the golden age of Rod Stewart with Faces or John Fogerty from Creedence Clearwater Revival. Furthermore, to breathe even more history into his album, King brought in drummer Gene Chrisman and pianist Bobby Wood, big names of the American Sound Studio who have played with Dusty Springfield and Elvis. Paul Franklin’s pedal steel guitar even makes a feature. But under this avalanche of sounds, influences, names and vintage tones which could quickly submerge the main artist, Marcus King possesses a highly original personality, something which this album manages to strongly transmit to the listener. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Having completed his relatively brief sojourn with MGM/Verve with 1973's Listen Easy, Tony Bennett was in the midst of forming his own label, Improv Records, when he made a deal with jazz pianist Bill Evans to cut two LPs: The Tony Bennett/Bill Evans Album and Together Again. (The first would be for Evans' label, Fantasy Records, the second to follow on Improv.) The singer and his collaborator -- "accompanist" does not adequately describe Evans' contribution, and in any case he received co-billing -- got together in a recording studio over four days in June 1975 with no one other than the producer, Helen Keane and an engineer present, and quickly recorded two of the best albums of either's career. For Bennett, it was a dream project; for years (decades, actually), he had been balancing the demands of commerciality with his own inclinations toward jazz and affection for the songs of Broadway masters and of the Great American Songbook. Left to himself with a jazz partner, he naturally gravitated toward both interests. There were songs here that he had already recorded, but never in so unadorned and yet fully realized a fashion. Evans was an excellent accompanist, using his steady left hand to keep his singer centered, but ready, whenever the vocals were finished, to go off into his characteristically lyrical playing. Bennett could seem a bit earthbound when he came back in (he still wasn't really a jazz singer), but his obvious enthusiasm for the project, coupled with his mastery of phrasing in songs he understood perfectly made him an equal in the partnership. As far as the major-label record business was concerned, the 46-year-old singer might have been over the hill and indulging himself, but in fact he was in his prime and finally able to pursue his ambitions unfettered, and that would prove itself a major boost to his career over time. For the moment, he'd made an excellent jazz-pop hybrid in which both musicians were shown off to advantage. [Of the 20 alternate takes and two bonus tracks included in this complete package, nine are previously unreleased except on the Bennett box set, The Complete Improv Recordings. Not surprisingly, they are more interesting for Evans' different improvisations than for anything else. But they also demonstrate that he and Bennett tried different approaches to the tunes. "Young and Foolish," the lead-off track on their first album, begins with both Bennett and Evans on the refrain, but the alternate take starts with Evans alone, followed by Bennett singing the song's introductory verse instead; the version runs a minute longer. The alternate take of "The Touch of Your Lips," on the other hand, is at a faster tempo and a minute shorter. None of the alternate takes actually improves on the originally released ones, but they show how well considered the album was.]© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

Having completed his relatively brief sojourn with MGM/Verve with 1973's Listen Easy, Tony Bennett was in the midst of forming his own label, Improv Records, when he made a deal with jazz pianist Bill Evans to cut two LPs, this one for Evans' label, Fantasy Records, with another to follow on Improv. The singer and his collaborator ("accompanist" does not adequately describe Evans' contribution, and in any case he received co-billing) got together in a recording studio over four days in June 1975 with no one other than the producer, Helen Keane and an engineer present, and quickly recorded one of the best albums of either's career. For Bennett, it was a dream project; for years (decades, actually), he had been balancing the demands of commerciality with his own inclinations toward jazz and affection for the songs of Broadway masters and of the Great American Songbook. Left to himself with a jazz partner, he naturally gravitated toward both interests. There were songs here that he had already recorded, but never in so unadorned and yet fully realized a fashion. Evans was an excellent accompanist, using his steady left hand to keep his singer centered, but ready, whenever the vocals were finished, to go off into his characteristically lyrical playing. Bennett could seem a bit earthbound when he came back in (he still wasn't really a jazz singer), but his obvious enthusiasm for the project, coupled with his mastery of phrasing in songs he understood perfectly made him an equal in the partnership. As far as the major-label record business was concerned, the 46-year-old singer might have been over the hill and indulging himself, but in fact he was in his prime and finally able to pursue his ambitions unfettered, and that would prove itself a major boost to his career over time. For the moment, he'd made an excellent jazz-pop hybrid in which both musicians were shown off to advantage. [The five alternate takes included as bonus tracks on the 2006 reissue of the album are, not surprisingly, more interesting for Evans' different improvisations than for anything else. But they also demonstrate that he and Bennett tried different approaches to the tunes. The album's lead-off track, "Young and Foolish," begins with both Bennett and Evans on the refrain, but the alternate take starts with Evans alone, followed by Bennett singing the song's introductory verse instead; the version runs a minute longer. The alternate take of "The Touch of Your Lips," on the other hand, is at a faster tempo and a minute shorter. None of the alternate takes actually improves on the originally released ones, but they show how well considered the album was.]© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

Given the tightly controlled nature of American Idol, it's a wonder that the televised talent contest has never produced a winner who specialized in country music, since there's no segment of modern popular music that is controlled tighter than contemporary country. Maybe this thought was in the minds of Simon Fuller and the rest of AmIdol's 19 management when they went into their fourth season in 2005, since as soon as fresh-faced Oklahoma blonde Carrie Underwood showed up in the audition rounds, the judges -- alright, specifically Simon Cowell -- pigeonholed her as a country singer, even if there was nothing specifically country about her sweet, friendly voice. From that point on, she was not only the frontrunner, but anointed as the show's first country winner, which apparently proved more enticing to the voters and the producers than the prospect of the show's first rock & roll winner in the guise of the Southern-fried hippie throwback Bo Bice. Which makes sense: cute, guileless young girls have a broader appeal than hairy 30-somethings. They're easier to sell and mold too, and Underwood proved particularly ideal in this regard since she was a blank slate, possessing a very good voice and an unthreatening prettiness that would be equally marketable and likeable in either country or pop. So, the powers that be decided that Underwood would be a contemporary country singer in the vein of Faith Hill -- she'd sing anthemic country pop, ideal for either country or adult contemporary radio, with none of the delightful tackiness of Shania Twain -- and her debut album, Some Hearts, not only hits this mark exactly, it's better than either album Hill has released since Breathe in 1999. Which isn't to say that Carrie Underwood is as compelling or as distinctive as a personality or vocalist as Faith Hill: Underwood is still developing her own style and, for as good a singer as she is, she doesn't have much of a persona beyond that of the girl next door made good. But that's enough to make Some Hearts work, since she's surrounded by professionals, headed by producers Mark Bright and Dann Huff, who know how to exploit that persona effectively. While some of the songs drift a little bit toward the generic, especially in regard to the adult contemporary ballads, most of the material is slick, sturdy, and memorable, delivered with conviction by Underwood. She sounds equally convincing on such sentimental fare as "Jesus, Take the Wheel" as on the soaring pop "Some Hearts," and even if she doesn't exactly sound tough on the strutting "Before He Cheats," she does growl with a fair amount of passion. In fact, the worst thing here is her chart-topping post-American Idol hit "Inside Your Heaven," which is as formulaic as the mainstream country-pop that comprises the rest of Some Hearts, but with one crucial difference: the formula doesn't work, the song is too sappy and transparent, the arrangement too cold. On the rest of Some Hearts, everything clicks -- the production is warm, the tunes inoffensive but ingratiating, it straddles the country and pop worlds with ease, and most importantly, it's every bit as likeable as Carrie was on American Idol. Which means that even if she's not nearly as sassy or charismatic as Kelly Clarkson -- she's not as spunky as Nashville Star finalist Miranda Lambert, for that matter -- Carrie Underwood has delivered the best post-AmIdol record since Clarkson's debut.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Life in a Beautiful Light, the third studio outing from Amy Macdonald, finds the Scottish singer/songwriter applying her refreshingly unhindered brogue to a heartfelt, 12-song set that blends the stadium-baiting wail of fellow countrymen Broken Records and Frightened Rabbit with the safe, middle of the road, adult alternative pop of James Blunt and Brandi Carlile. Things get off to a grand start with the spirited "4th of July," an open-road-ready, horn-laden, four-chord love letter to a weekend fling that's equal parts Springsteen and Tunstall, with a little bit of the Proclaimers tossed in for good measure. Elsewhere, "Slow It Down," Life in a Beautiful Light's first tick in the vocal affectation department, and the U2-cribbed "Across the Nile," a political war cry concerning the Arab Spring uprising, are certainly rousing, but feel a bit calculated. In fact, outside of the aforementioned opener and the lush, string-heavy title cut, it all feels a little bit calculated. Macdonald is so beholden to lyrical and melodic clichés, that it can sometimes feel like she's using a template. She's got talent to spare, but Life in a Beautiful Light, at its essence, is the sound of an artist looking for her own voice amidst the deafening roar of her influences.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

Nearly three years after Uncaged, which won the Grammy for Best Country Album, the Zac Brown Band unveiled the next chapter in their crossover country revolution. Uncaged was distinguished at least in part by the participation of a variety of guests including Jimmy Buffett, Alan Jackson, Trombone Shorty, Jason Mraz, and Amos Lee. Jekyll + Hyde doesn't forgo them altogether, but it does have fewer of them. Instead, ZBB double down on their commitment to deliver as many different kinds of songs as they possibly can. Whereas the Jay Joyce-produced first single, "Homegrown," is characteristic of the band's feel-good, home-and-heart, back-country groove, it's not nearly representative of everything that's here. Opener "Beautiful Drug" may feature a meld of acoustic guitars, banjos, and snare drums, but loops, synths, and a hook straight out of a Katy Perry single govern its flow. "Mango Tree" features Sara Bareilles in a guest performance as it attempts to re-create Nelson Riddle-esque big-band pop swing. It's followed by the rocker "Heavy Is the Head," with Soundgarden/Audioslave frontman Chris Cornell in duet with Brown. The metallic guitar is appended by a distorted bassline that comes right from the Geezer Butler playbook. The guest tunes are solid additions, but they're not the best things here. Those honors are reserved for the band's self-written tunes: "Remedy" weds country-gospel to a Celtic reel with multi-part vocal harmonies and finally to modern praise & worship; it's a clear standout. The Caribbean-tinged tunes such as "Loving You Easy," with its Buffett-esque groove wed to retro pop/soul and "One Day," with its sweeping yet earthy fiddle, horns, and stirring backing choruses, are both winners, too. "Tomorrow Never Comes" is almost a big-beat dance number with its ticking loops and electronic blips cutting through a bluegrass stomp. It's bracing in its audacity. Jason Isbell's poignant "Dress Blues" is more straightforward, wedding folk and pop-country in a poignant lyric about a fallen marine; the arrangement juxtaposes a gently whining pedal steel with an elegiac, languid fiddle. "Junkyard," a song about child abuse, is a slow, angry country-rocker with fat, muddy basses and guitars, and a Celtic interlude with drum loops that adds drama and tension before the tempo explodes. "I'll Be Your Man (Song for a Daughter)" is heartfelt, island-tinged folk-country. Its closing chorale is straight out of the Southern church. It should have closed the album, because "Widlfire" feels like filler and an acoustic version of "Tomorrow Never Comes" was unnecessary because it adds to the set's already unwieldy, hour-plus length. The only other nick is that the set's production is overly bright. These are niggling complaints, however. The stylistic range of Jekyll + Hyde proves that ZBB's reach is almost limitless, and this set will more than likely delight the group's legions of fans.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

This overly long quartet-plus-strings session is Charlie Haden's paean to an ideal America, made during a time that was ripe for such reflections. The band, with Haden on bass, Michael Brecker on tenor, Brad Mehldau on piano, and Brian Blade on drums, is unassailably strong. But listeners could have lived without the ear-candy sheen provided by the 34-piece orchestra, arranged primarily by Alan Broadbent, with additional contributions from Jeremy Lubbock and Vince Mendoza. (Broadbent and Mendoza also penned charts for Jane Monheit's In the Sun, released two weeks earlier.) Aside from outright banalities like "America the Beautiful" and "It Might Be You" (yes, the Stephen Bishop lite-radio hit), there are some saving graces, like Keith Jarrett's "Prism" and "No Lonely Nights," Mehldau's "Ron's Place," and Haden's two originals, "American Dreams" and "Nightfall." But Pat Metheny's "Travels" goes soggy without its Midwestern guitar twang, and Ornette Coleman's "Bird Food," one of only three tracks not to feature the orchestra, is so wildly out of place that its impact is somehow diminished -- notwithstanding a vivid pedal-point interlude about six minutes in.© David R. Adler /TiVo

Bill Charlap, a versatile pianist based in swing who is also a longtime member of the Phil Woods Quintet, pays tribute to the great George Gershwin throughout this likable set. Although some of the ten Gershwin songs are slightly modernized, the music is very much in the tradition. There are up to four horns on some numbers, with the best individual moments coming from veteran tenor Frank Wess on "How Long Has This Been Going On" (sounding a bit like Paul Gonsalves), trombonist Slide Hampton on "A Foggy Day," and altoist Woods whenever he plays. Charlap's longtime trio with bassist Peter Washington and drummer Kenny Washington is featured on "Who Cares?," and Charlap takes the brief closing "Soon" as an unaccompanied solo. Nothing all that revolutionary or revelatory occurs but the music is pleasing overall, swinging and creative within its boundaries.© Scott Yanow /TiVo