The key to Chris Stapleton's immense success, of course, is his remarkable, inimitable vocal tone: a worn-leather rasp that can stretch high and low, project real strength and sweetness, and isn't specifically "country"—there are traces of Stax soul, Ray Charles' R&B and deep-fried Southern rock. But Stapleton also feels reliable; he's an artist of integrity and good taste who doesn't bother with false moves or trying on trends. In short, he is classic in real time. And that hasn't changed with Higher, his fifth solo album (after fronting the band Steeldrivers for years) in less than a decade. Co-produced once again with Dave Cobb, the album taps into the catholic formula that works well for him. Single "White Horse" is glorious arena rock, a sinewy flex with some particularly heavy moments. "South Dakota" brings Memphis-blues stomp, slithering confidently and managing to make that prairie state sound badass: "I'm in South Dakota/ Trouble ain't hard to find." Written with Miranda Lambert, "What Am I Gonna Do" is a mid-tempo pleaser with lazy-sun Skynyrd guitar and Stapleton, as always, beautifully complimented by harmonies from his wife Morgane Stapleton. She matches him as an equal duet partner and not just support on "It Takes a Woman," a '70s-ish country ballad that gives Stapleton the chance to hit an otherworldly note as he sings, "You make me hiiiiiiiigh and keep my feet on the ground." Sultry "Think I'm In Love With You" delivers a very '80s adult-contemporary vibe, complete with urbane strings—violin not fiddle. "Loving You On My Mind" is silky R&B, Stapleton sounding like a natural lover man as he sings, "Ever since there's a morning/ I've been wondering/ How you do that thing you did last night." He pushes toward falsetto on that one, but goes all the way on soulful ballad "Higher." Acoustic "Mountains Of My Mind" is gentle as a mountain stream and evokes memories of Guy Clark, while memorable "The Bottom" has a Willie Nelson feel, as Stapleton finds a way to deepen country's tangling of love—and heartbreak—and alcohol: "The heart holds a memory/ And the memory holds a past/ And the past holds a woman/ At the bottom of a glass/ So I don't have a problem/ If I don't see the bottom." And "Crosswind" is a metaphor-rich driving song ("carrying a heavy load," "picking up speed") that mimics the rhythm of rolling truck wheels for an excellent snapshot of outlaw country: "Trying to keep all the rubber on 65/ Might not make it out alive/ White-knuckling the wheel just to survive/ Caught in the crosswind." The parts are old, but Stapleton makes it feel brand new. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Over nine albums, The National have grown wilder in their experimentation. But the Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cincinnati band proves on First Two Pages of Frankenstein that almost no one else does Midwest desolation this well—still. It's there in the plaintive but sweetly hopeful piano line that carries "Once Upon a Poolside" and underscores Matt Berninger's troubled lines: "I can't keep talking/ I can't stop shaking/ I can't keep track of everything I'm taking." (Bonus points for bringing in fellow Midwestern native Sufjan Stevens for ethereal backing vocals.) There's a spareness, too, in the excellent "Eucalyptus," which poses questions about who walks away with what when a relationship ends: ceiling fans, rainbow eucalyptus, ornaments ..."What about the undeveloped cameras?/ Maybe we should bury those ... What about the Cowboy Junkies?/ What about the Afghan Whigs?" And yet the song takes on an early-U2 level of drama with a build of moody, striking guitar and tumbling drums. "Tropic Morning News," meanwhile, surprises in a different way: Starting with a perfectly chilled Joy Division beat, the guitars spring to life and the bridge takes off and up. This is the song that is said to have saved the record, after Berninger was in a dry spell. It was, he has said, "the first time it ever felt like maybe things really had come to an end" for the band. But, with his wife Carin Besser's help on the words, he pulled through—a feeling that seems to be reflected in the lyrics: "I was so distracted then/ I didn't have it straight in my head/ I didn't have my face on yet, or the role, or the feel/ Of where I was going with it all ... There's nothing stopping me now/ From saying all the painful parts out loud." Much has been made of the band's collaboration with Taylor Swift, "The Alcott,” and for good reason. As a producer, National guitarist and songwriter Aaron Dessner knows how to pull a genuine maturity out of Swift. Here she holds her own against Berninger's deep masculinity and the beating heart of percussion. Unlike with other guests on ... Frankenstein, this is a proper duet, and a pretty perfect addition to the Swift oeuvre, as she delivers lines like "Shred my evening gown/ Read my sentence out loud/ Because I brought this curse on our house." Phoebe Bridgers, meanwhile, shows up on "This Isn't Helping" and "Your Mind Is Not Your Friend," but her harmonies are more like a spoonful of sugar atop Berninger's roughness, rather than an equal match.The record ends with “Send for Me” and Berninger promising to answer any SOS: "If you're ever sitting at the airport/ And you don't want to leave ... If you're ever at a glass-top table, selling your ideas/ To swivel-chair underlings who just don't get it … Send for me/ Whenever, where ever/ Send for me/ I'll come and get ya." In other words: They’re not done yet. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

"Mosquitoes can enjoy me/ I can't go inside," Mitski sings—lulls—on "Buffalo Replaced," a bottom-heavy grunge ballad from her seventh album that finds the singer revealing a nagging self-vexation. "I have a hope/ Though she's blind with no name/ She shits where she's supposed to feed herself when I'm away/ Sometimes I think it would be easier without her." Like Tori Amos, Kate Bush, or Frank Ocean, Mitski has a tendency to reveal so much wildness via a calming presence. Not that the weight isn't heavy; back in 2019, she announced her "last show indefinitely," later admitting that she was worn down by physical and mental exhaustion caused by the music business and its "super-saturated version of consumerism," but also the demands of representation. She has criticized always having her Asian American heritage pointed out; "It's like racism masked in progressive thought … I'm a symbol." Last year she told the BBC: "I needed to step away to get out of that mechanism and just learn how to be human again, I think." That break led Mitski to what she calls "my most American album … This land, which already feels inhospitable to so many of its inhabitants, is about to feel hopelessly torn and tossed again—at times, devoid of love. This album offers the anodyne." Drawing from influences including Ennio Morricone's high-drama spaghetti western scores and Carter Burwell's "tundra-filling Fargo soundtrack," The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We finds Mitski pairing her sometimes dark thoughts with music and sounds—an orchestra arranged and conducted by Drew Erickson, and a 17-voice choir—that convey turmoil. On "When Memories Snow," both piano and Mitski's vocals determine a marching pace while she presents a haunting internal scenario:  "When memories snow/ And cover up the driveway/ I shovel all those memories ... and when memories melt/ I hear them in the drainpipe/ Dripping through the downspout/ As I lie awake in the dark." Then the orchestral tension builds and explodes, horns and strings and choral voices elbowing each other for space. Opener "Bug Like an Angel" starts off like an acoustic campfire nod-along as Mitski sings, "As I got older, I learned I'm a drinker/ Sometimes a drink feels like family"—then, out of nowhere, a full-throated, big as Broadway choir trills "family!" She remains on even keel for "The Deal" as the music swirls like an atmospheric weather system, finally picking up to tornado strength, grabbing everything in its path and tossing it. It's not all chaos, though, as the anodyne settles in. Countrified "Heaven" is light with strings and Cowboy Junkies-esque. "My Love All Mine" is swoony romance, rich and full. And "Star" twinkles and explodes into a supernova, as Mitski convinces that lost love is never completely lost. At the end, "I Love Me After You," there is majesty—big buzz, crashing cymbals—as she performs a self-care routine (hydration, toner, brushing her hair) only to proclaim, "I love me after you/ King of all the land." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

"The chemistry between that group was intense -- even their longest, most meandering jams are worth savoring for one reason or another."© TiVo

Never before has Beyoncé made her fans wait so long between solo albums. Of course, these past six and a half years haven’t been easy for the singer—far from it. However, such levels of anticipation inevitably lead to impatience. After unveiling the house-pop influenced single Break My Soul, which definitely came as a surprise, you’d be forgiven for expecting her new album to be something more along the lines of Drake’s Honestly, Nevermind released a month prior, but it’s nothing of the sort. Renaissance has electronic rhythms at its core, but it’s extremely wide-ranging. Beyoncé flirts with disco-funk on Cuff It, summons huge choirs fit for a queen on Cozy, and includes a new ode to feminist empowerment with Church Girl (which gives an insight into her soul and gospel influences). Perhaps the best musical synthesis on the album is found in the track Virgo’s Groove, reviving the Latin sounds that feature on Move and Heated. With Renaissance, Beyoncé has really upped her pace, creating a highspeed musical freeway that’ll take you to a lot of different places. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

Måneskin is on a roll. After winning Eurovision in 2021, the Italian band has reached new heights, releasing singles which have propelled them into stardom and opened thousands of doors. ‘Mammamia’, ‘The Loneliest’ and ‘Supermodel’ are three killer tracks, all built on a solid foundation of stadium rock and teenage romance. However, their third album, RUSH!, is much more pop-orientated in both form and content. The beautifully saturated guitars form the perfect backdrop for Damiano David’s vocals. The songs revolve around the lyrics and take on a more rebellious, romantic vibe—except for the track ‘Bla Bla Bla’, which is more of a provocative, drunken, joyful affair. Imagery and metaphor abound in ballads such as ‘Timezone’ and ‘If Not for You’. They also deliver huge heavy bass on ‘Baby Said’ and ‘Gasoline’ and invite Tom Morello to feature on the track ‘Gossip’. RUSH! is a solid album, and it might just hail a new stage for Måneskin’s career. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

It’s emancipation time for Romy Madley-Croft, guitarist of The xx, with the release of her first solo album, a “party album” that made her step a little outside her comfort zone. Penning for singers like Halsey and Dua Lipa, Romy began by working for others alongside Fred Again.., who has become one of England’s most in-demand producers over the past few years. Their collaboration began as a friendship, and one day, after having written “Loveher,” a story about loving a woman, Romy decided to take credit for it. And thus began the album, an homage to the queer club scene where Romy tells of having come into her own, and which now helps her come into her own as a solo artist. Fred Again.. produced eight tracks on the record, leaving behind his characteristic ethereal footprint, halfway between pop and dance music. On the album, we also find the single “Strong,” a true rave anthem produced by a man who knows how it’s done, Stuart Price, pioneer of the English electronic scene with his 90s project Les Rythmes Digitales. Between euphoria and melancholy, ecstasy and nostalgia, Romy delivers a particularly successful first album, 100% for the dance floor. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

Often cited as one of the best hip-hop albums of the '90s, Illmatic is the undisputed classic upon which Nas' reputation rests. It helped spearhead the artistic renaissance of New York hip-hop in the post-Chronic era, leading a return to street aesthetics. Yet even if Illmatic marks the beginning of a shift away from Native Tongues-inspired alternative rap, it's strongly rooted in that sensibility. For one, Nas employs some of the most sophisticated jazz-rap producers around: Q-Tip, Pete Rock, DJ Premier, and Large Professor, who underpin their intricate loops with appropriately tough beats. But more importantly, Nas takes his place as one of hip-hop's greatest street poets -- his rhymes are highly literate, his raps superbly fluid regardless of the size of his vocabulary. He's able to evoke the bleak reality of ghetto life without losing hope or forgetting the good times, which become all the more precious when any day could be your last. As a narrator, he doesn't get too caught up in the darker side of life -- he's simply describing what he sees in the world around him, and trying to live it up while he can. He's thoughtful but ambitious, announcing on "N.Y. State of Mind" that "I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death," and that he's "out for dead presidents to represent me" on "The World Is Yours." Elsewhere, he flexes his storytelling muscles on the classic cuts "Life's a Bitch" and "One Love," the latter a detailed report to a close friend in prison about how allegiances within their group have shifted. Hip-hop fans accustomed to 73-minute opuses sometimes complain about Illmatic's brevity, but even if it leaves you wanting more, it's also one of the few '90s rap albums with absolutely no wasted space. Illmatic reveals a great lyricist in top form meeting great production, and it remains a perennial favorite among serious hip-hop fans.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Four years after the pinnacle of Stevie Wonder's mid-'70s typhoon of classic albums, Hotter Than July was the proper follow-up to Songs in the Key of Life (his Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants concept record was actually a soundtrack to an obscure movie that fared miserably in theaters). It also found Wonder in a different musical climate than the one that savored his every move from 1972 to 1977. Disco and new wave had slowly crept their way into the mainstream record-buying public, and hindered the once-ample room for socially and politically charged lyrics. However, Wonder naysayed the trends and continues to do what he did best. Solid songwriting, musicianship, and production are evident in the majority of Hotter Than July. Wonder also carries on his tradition of penning songs normally not associated with his trademark sound, from the disco-tinged "All I Do" (originally planned to be released by Tammi Terrell almost ten years previously) to the reggae-influenced smash "Master Blaster (Jammin)," which went straight to the top of the R&B charts. While admittedly there are a few less-than-standard tracks, he closes the album on an amazing high note with one of the most aching ballads in his canon ("Lately") and a touching anthem to civil rights pioneer Martin Luther King, Jr. ("Happy Birthday"). While most definitely not on the same tier as Innervisions or Songs in the Key of Life, Hotter Than July is the portrait of an artist who still had the Midas touch, but stood at the crossroads of an illustrious career.© Rob Theakston /TiVo

The sophomore effort from Slipknot and Stone Sour vocalist Corey Taylor follows 2020's CMFT. His solo career has been a chance for him to experiment with a variety of styles that don't fit with his main bands, and this album continues that trend with a wide variety of rock approaches from punk and alt-rock to smooth grooves and atmospheric Americana.© TiVo

Download not available
I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got became Sinéad O'Connor's popular breakthrough on the strength of the stunning Prince cover "Nothing Compares 2 U," which topped the pop charts for a month. But even its remarkable intimacy wasn't adequate preparation for the harrowing confessionals that composed the majority of the album. Informed by her stormy relationship with drummer John Reynolds, who fathered O'Connor's first child before the couple broke up, I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got lays the singer's psyche startlingly and sometimes uncomfortably bare. The songs mostly address relationships with parents, children, and (especially) lovers, through which O'Connor weaves a stubborn refusal to be defined by anyone but herself. In fact, the album is almost too personal and cathartic to draw the listener in close, since O'Connor projects such turmoil and offers such specific detail. Her confrontational openness makes it easy to overlook O'Connor's musical versatility. Granted, not all of the music is as brilliantly audacious as "I Am Stretched on Your Grave," which marries a Frank O'Connor poem to eerie Celtic melodies and a James Brown "Funky Drummer" sample. But the album plays like a tour de force in its demonstration of everything O'Connor can do: dramatic orchestral ballads, intimate confessionals, catchy pop/rock, driving guitar rock, and protest folk, not to mention the nearly six-minute a cappella title track. What's consistent throughout is the frighteningly strong emotion O'Connor brings to bear on the material, while remaining sensitive to each piece's individual demands. Aside from being a brilliant album in its own right, I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got foreshadowed the rise of deeply introspective female singer/songwriters like Tori Amos and Sarah McLachlan, who were more traditionally feminine and connected with a wider audience. Which takes nothing away from anyone; if anything, it's evidence that, when on top of her game, O'Connor was a singular talent.© Steve Huey /TiVo

It seems inevitable that the popularity of jam bands would eventually give rise to the jam big band, and first on that scene was the cross-cultural and endlessly innovative Snarky Puppy. Springing from the renowned music program at North Texas State in Denton, Texas, in 2004, and led since the beginning by bassist Michael League, the band is now more a collective with over 40 members who have passed through in the past 18 years, during which they've released 15 albums and steadily built a sizable audience for their composed and improvised blend of jazz fusion, full-on rock, and funky extended jams.  This is Snarky Puppy's third live album in a row, which makes sense given that the perky smooth jazz of this 20-piece collective dedicated to finding the necessary groove undoubtedly blossoms in front of an audience.  Their superpower, however, is sharp, compelling arranging, and finding a place and the right blend for all its nearly two dozen instrumentalists. Another star in this show is the attention to appealing textures that are built thanks to an array of new and vintage keyboards including a Mellotron, Wurlitzer ARP String Ensemble, Minimoog Model D, Fender Rhodes, and Hohner D6 Clavinet. The big brassy "Pineapple," where Snarky Puppy's three drummers and three percussionists raise a mighty din, is typical of the group's jumpier, groove side. "RL's," named for Dallas nightclub RL Griffin's Blues Palace 2,  winds up as a massive guitar shredfest only tangentially related to the blues. In "Belmont," violinist Zach Brock solos throughout. The sound is huge in all ways, at times crossing over into loud and in-your-face space where wider dynamics might have made for a more enjoyable listen. Strangely, while the entire record was recorded live at the Deep Ellum Art Company in Dallas in March, 2022, and mixed in Els Prats de Rei, Spain (where League resides), the tightest and less flamboyant groove "Mean Green," (think Average White Band) named for the North Texas mascot, does not feature the applause present elsewhere. Another applause-less tune, "Free Fall," is a trip back to the synthy 1980s of Al Jarreau and Spyro Gyra. Jam on! © Robert Baird/Qobuz

Italy's Måneskin make their bid for global pop domination with their third album, 2023's pulse-pounding Rush! While they sound like a sleazy garage rock band from New York circa the early aughts, they are best known for winning the Eurovision Song Contest 2021 for Italy with the song "Zitti e buoni." Prior to that, they teed up their breakthrough Eurovision run with a second-place finish on Italy's X Factor in 2017. All of which is to say that, while they can really and truly rock (devil horns and all), Måneskin aren't afraid to play in the tasteless, campy machinery of the modern pop landscape. In fact, on Rush! they explicitly frame themselves within a sleazy, globe-trotting world of decadent partying, sexy models, and raw overindulgence -- all delivered with a kohl-eyed wink and a firm tongue in cheek. The band purportedly recorded over 50 songs for Rush!, working with a bevy of studio songwriting and production collaborators like Max Martin, Rami Yacoub, Justin Tranter, and others. At 17 tracks, the album can feel a bit long, like they didn't want to leave anything out. That said, it's also fun and full of enough wild-eyed rock club energy to keep things from ever getting too predictable. Cuts like "Bla Bla Bla," "Gasoline," and "Don't Wanna Sleep" have a giddy, dance-punk quality, as if the Buzzcocks ripped through Maroon 5's "Moves Like Jagger." There's also their ribald collaboration with guitarist Tom Morello that sounds, somewhat improbably and perhaps most fittingly, like Rage Against the Machine in deep punk tango with Ricky Martin. Some of the best moments come late in the album, where Måneskin and longtime producer Fabrizio Ferraguzzo let loose on a handful tracks (several sung in Italian) like the sinewy "La Fine," "Kool Kids," and the deliciously trashy "Mammamia," anthems where singer Damiano David's throaty sneer and the band's buzz-heavy grooves vibrate with an electric sensuality. With Rush!, Måneskin make good on their Eurovision rock promise, delivering an album that's campy, inspired, and thrilling all at the same time. As they sing on "Kool Kids," "I am scum, real scum, but I'm good at this/We're not punk, we're not pop, we're just music freaks."© Matt Collar /TiVo

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

Contractual obligations never sounded so good. When Miles Davis signed his first contract with Prestige Records in 1951, he was a heroin-addicted pariah of the New York jazz scene, barely able to get enough work to fund his habits. That first deal produced a couple of sessions with only one album,The New Sound, which was Davis' debut as a leader, released during that time. The next few years found Davis scrounging for pickup work on the road and in his hometown of St. Louis as his addiction worsened.  While he would record for Prestige here and there during this time, the output was inconsistent in both quality and quantity. However, when he returned to New York in 1954 he was sober and his next stint with Prestige would produce a number of incredible records. The final four of those albums—Workin', Steamin', Relaxin', and Cookin'—were recorded over two breakneck sessions in May and October 1956 in order for Davis to fulfill his obligation to the label and move on to Columbia Records, which had signed him after his triumphant comeback performance at the 1955 Newport Jazz festival. To be sure, Davis was wholly unconcerned with the quality of these sessions, and had directed his group to basically just improvise their way through them as quickly as possible, as if they were playing live. But here's the thing: This group was Davis' first classic quintet, with John Coltrane, Red Garland, Paul Chambers, and Philly Joe Jones, and while he was in triumphant comeback mode, the other four players were absolutely hungry and on fire. Combine that with new LP technology that allowed the group's riffing to expand and contract naturally, without the three-minute time constraints of a 78 side, and, well, you accidentally end up with some classic albums. And, even though it was released four years after it was recorded, Workin' may have been the most consequential, standing alongside the contemporaneous work of Art Blakey and Clifford Brown as one of the foundational documents of the hard bop sound that defined mainstream jazz from the mid-'50s through the mid-'60s. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

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