Ah, 1990s Seattle, the birthplace of grunge and dumping ground where indie rock, punk, metal, noise pop and many more cross paths. A golden age where the long-haired were transformed into beautiful losers, electric guitar-wielding poets with checked flannel shirts and tatty second-hand jeans. Only a few flawlessly talented survivors remain from this blessed time. Pearl Jam is the prime example. Gigaton, their March 2020 album is their best work in two decades and garnered some well-deserved critical acclaim. Accustomed to stadium performances, the band could easily have turned on autopilot, but they have nevertheless continued to innovate. The band has not forgotten, however, that a lot of its success is owed to its intense stage performances as well as its first album, the cult and unparalleled, Ten. It is again the famous Ten that we return to here in 2020. While the album itself was reissued in four different versions in 2009, the album allows led to the recording of their legendary MTV Unplugged on the 16th of March 1992. At the time, Pearl Jam had only this album on their repertoire as well as the soundtrack to Cameron Crowe’s film Singles on which three of the band members played. Around three days after having finished their American tour, the five musicians headed to New York to record an acoustic show that has since become legend. In seven songs, Pearl Jam had viewers on their knees. With a rare intensity, the performance exposed in plain sight Eddie Vedder’s incredible voice. Shy and uncomfortable, he utters some rare hesitant sentences before suddenly transforming into an incredible and unforgettable frontman the moment the first lines of Oceans are sung. The rest belongs to history. Aside from State of Love and Trust, taken from Singles, the rest of the concert allows one to appreciate part of Ten in a new light with the harrowing Black, the more spirited Even Flow and the single Alive. The show lasts around 36 minutes and leaves the listener in a state of bewilderment, floating between intense pleasure and frustration. It took another ten years and the release of another largely acoustic concert, Live at Benaroya Hall, to experience the band’s unplugged expertise from afar. Worse still, MTV Unplugged never saw an official release until 2019 and an ultra-limited vinyl pressing for Record Store Day. One year later, this reissue (and its new mixing realised by Nick DiDia) arrives with relief. A blessing. © Chief Brody/Qobuz

Emerson, Lake & Palmer's 1970 eponymous LP was only a rehearsal. It hit hard because of the novelty of the act (allegedly the first supergroup in rock history), but felt more like a collection of individual efforts and ideas than a collective work. All doubts were dissipated by the release of Tarkus in 1971. Side one of the original LP is occupied by the 21-minute title epic track, beating both Genesis' "Supper's Ready" and Yes' "Close to the Edge" by a year. Unlike the latter group's cut-and-paste technique to obtain long suites, "Tarkus" is a thoroughly written, focused piece of music. It remains among the Top Ten classic tracks in progressive rock history. Because of the strength of side one, the material on the album's second half has been quickly forgotten -- with one good reason: it doesn't match the strength of its counterpart -- but "Bitches Crystal" and "A Time and a Place" make two good prog rock tracks, the latter being particularly rocking. "Jeremy Bender" is the first in a series of honky tonk-spiced, Far-West-related songs. This one and the rock & roll closer "Are You Ready Eddy?" are the only two tracks worth throwing away. Otherwise Tarkus makes a very solid album, especially to the ears of prog rock fans -- no Greg Lake acoustic ballads, no lengthy jazz interludes. More accomplished than the trio's first album, but not quite as polished as Brain Salad Surgery, Tarkus is nevertheless a must-have.© François Couture /TiVo

Joni Mitchell continues to dig through her archives with a second volume of rarities and unreleased material that follows Archives - Vol. 1: The Early Years (1963-1967) published in 2020. With its 119 tracks (over 6 hours of music!), Archives, Vol. 2: The Reprise Years (1968-1971) offers a chronologically-ordered tracklist presenting songs recorded during the period linking her first album, Song to a Seagull (1968), with her fourth album, Blue (1971). It was a sort of golden age of artistic uniqueness in a folk scene which was jam-packed with contenders jostling for the top spot. This release is a snapshot, above all, of her personal evolution, from the streets and small folk clubs to the most prestigious venues... Demos recorded in her home or in her friend Jane Lurie's New York flat, sessions at Sunset Sound studio in Hollywood, a TV appearance on Dick Cavett's show, live in Ann Arbor or at the Hibou Coffee House in Ottawa (recorded by Jimi Hendrix himself!), this boxed set also includes a beautiful London concert in October 1970 broadcast by the BBC, where she performed Carey, River and My Old Man, which were to be included on Blue the following year. And during this latter show, we find one James Taylor is at her side. Another highlight of this impressive collection is her February 1st 1969 concert at New York's Carnegie Hall, a sort of apogee for an artist who was then just 25 years old... As always, this kind of copious box set is above all intended for the hardcore aficionados of the Canadian’s music, although novices are also sure to be hypnotised by her otherworldly voice and these introspective lyrics, whose style would go on to influence whole generations of songwriters... © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Jazz trumpeter Jeremy Pelt has explored a variety of settings on his albums, from driving acoustic hard bop to electrified funk and even electronic music. With 2020's dusky The Art of Intimacy, Vol. 1, he shifts gears yet again, settling into a drummerless trio format on a warmly attenuated set of ballads. The album is stark contrast to his ambitious 2019 effort, The Artist, which found him drawing inspiration from the sculptures of Auguste Rodin. Where that album showcased his ear for harmonically expansive post-bop in the vein of Woody Shaw, here he strips his approach down to the essentials. Joining him are two highly regarded jazz veterans, pianist George Cables and bassist Peter Washington. Both players have a long association with the trumpeter, including Washington being the godfather of Pelt's son and Cables having known him since right after he graduated from Berklee in the late '90s. The trio bring all of that musical and life experience to bear here on a mix of originals and lesser-played standards. The album opens with Pelt's deceptively straight-forward "Love Is Simple." Built around a lyrical, twice-repeated eight-bar phrase, the song nonetheless affords the band plenty of room to stretch out. From there, they wrap themselves in the languid glow of the Rodgers and Hart classic "Little Girl Blue," with Cables framing Pelt's fuzzy trumpet lines in delicately reharmonized chords and Washington offering a warm bowed solo. Similarly enveloping are Pelt's Harmon-muted songs, including "Always on My Mind" (the Johnny Green/Norman Newell song, not the Willie Nelson tune) and the soulful Lee Adams and Charles Strouse composition "I've Just Seen Her" from the 1962 musical All American. Elsewhere, they offer a far-eyed and bluesy reading of Cables' "Ebony Moonbeams" and cull ever richer emotional veins out of Lucky Thompson's "While You Are Gone." Pelt and Washington even pare down to a duo for the wryly improvised and painterly slow-blues "Ab-o-lutely." A perfect example of the less-is-more philosophy, The Art of Intimacy, Vol. 1 maximizes the personal and musical connections between Pelt and his trio bandmates. © Matt Collar /TiVo

Upon its release, the 1973 LP Brain Salad Surgery had been hailed as Emerson, Lake & Palmer's masterpiece. A long tour ensued that left the trio flushed and begging for time off. Before disbanding for three years, they assembled a three-LP live set (something of a badge of achievement at the time, earned by Yes in 1973 with Yessongs and, somewhat more dubiously, Leon Russell with Leon Live). Welcome Back My Friends to the Show That Never Ends gives a very accurate representation of ELP's shows at the time, including their uncertain sound quality. It isn't that the group didn't try hard to give a good show; they did, but left to just his two hands, without the use of multi-tracking and overdubs to build layer-upon-layer of electronic keyboard sounds, Keith Emerson was at a singular disadvantage on some of the boldest material in the trio's repertory. And even allowing how far the art and science of recording rock concerts had advanced in the 1970s, there were still inherent problems in recording a fully exposed bass -- Greg Lake's primary instrument -- in an arena setting that couldn't be overcome here. Even the most recent remastered editions could not fix the feedback, the occasionally leakages, the echo, the seeming distance -- the listener often gets the impression of being seated in the upper mezzanine of an arena. That said, the group still had a lot of fire, enthusiasm, and cohesion at this point in its history, and that does come through. And if they don't solve every problem with the sound, the remastered editions from Rhino, Japanese WEA, and Sanctuary do give Lake's voice and Emerson's piano their richest, fullest possible tone and a fighting chance in these surroundings, and bring Carl Palmer's drumming much more up close and personal than it ever was on the LP. On the down side, the division into two CDs (as opposed to three LPs) means that the 26-minute "Take a Pebble"/"Piano Improvisations"/"Take a Pebble" chain -- complete with Lake's excellent acoustic guitar spot for "Still You Turn Me On" and "Lucky Man" -- is broken up between the two discs. The song selection -- if not quite the career-ranging array of repertory that Yessongs was for Yes -- is stellar and features all the material from Brain Salad Surgery (with the exception of "Benny the Bouncer"), including a complete 36-minute rendition of "Karn Evil 9," which filled both sides of the third LP in the original set. The latter is thoroughly bracing, with a level of visceral energy that was lacking in some moments of the original studio version, and is also almost as good a showcase for Lake, whose singing and playing here are better than they were on the studio original, as it is for Emerson and Palmer. Add to that a 27-minute "Tarkus" -- complete with one Pete Sinfield-authored verse from King Crimson's "Epitaph" (which they'd been adding to the piece in concert at least since the Trilogy tour) -- and you now have three quarters of the music. Hearing any of those three pieces (and the stunning "Toccata") performed live, obviously without any overdubs, makes one realize how accomplished these musicians were, and how well they worked together when the going was good. This was the group's last successful and satisfying tour, as subsequent journeys on the road, in association with the Works album, were mired in acrimony about expenses, repertory, ego clashes, and the decision about going out with an orchestra (or not), or were motivated purely by contractual and financial obligations, whereas here they proved that even their most ambitious ideas could work musically, done by just the three of them. The sometimes disappointing sound quality should not be too much of a turnoff for fans, but newcomers should definitely start with the studio albums, and make this the third or fourth ELP album in their collection. And it should be listened to loud.© Francois Couture & Bruce Eder /TiVo

Cut in August 2009, Men of Honor initiated California-born trumpeter Jeremy Pelt's involvement with Joe Fields' New York-based HighNote record label. For this auspicious debut, Pelt teamed up with Los Angeles pianist Danny Grissett, Philadelphian bassist Dwayne Burno, and two of Detroit's finest exponents: tenor saxophonist J.D. Allen and master percussionist Gerald Cleaver. Men of Honor consists of a set of eight original compositions that brings to mind the coolly creative, mainstream, pre-electric works of Lee Morgan, Freddie Hubbard, and Miles Davis. It is a deliberately drawn salute to certain musical traditions established in the late '50s and early '60s which have endured and been extended by young artists enraptured by the harmonic poetics of early modern jazz. Comparisons abound in the literature surrounding Pelt and his peers. This is inevitable as the influences run thick throughout his gradually expanding discography. He clearly came up listening to the Jazz Messengers, Wayne Shorter, and the young Wynton Marsalis. This thoughtful, well-crafted music is recommended for relaxation on a foggy day, or intuitive navigation after dark.© arwulf arwulf /TiVo

The limpid lysergic swirls and squalling fuzz-toned riffs that populate Tame Impala's debut clearly owe a hefty, heartfelt debt to the hazy churn of late-'60s/early-'70s psych rock, but the members of this Perth threesome are hardly strict revivalists. In comparison to their similarly inspired contemporaries, they chart a course somewhere between Dungen's lovingly meticulous replication of their chosen style and Malachai's deconstructive, electronically enabled pastiche of same, deftly skirting the potential for parodic excess that comes with either extreme. Balancing an obvious reverence for their sonic forebears with subtly contemporary production tweaks, they make straddling two disparate eras feel like the most comfortable, effortless thing in the world. And that sense of unforced, unpretentious ease is fundamental to what makes Innerspeaker so simply, viscerally pleasurable: there's so much that Tame Impala get so wonderfully right here -- a distinct but understated undercurrent of melody, a relaxed but ever-present sense of groove, a crystal crispness and deliberateness to the sound even when it's treated with a healthy dousing of buzz and reverb -- without seeming like they're trying at all hard. Despite a classic power trio configuration and relatively limited use of overdubbing, the album frequently feels so sonically massive, so thick with ringing guitars, walls of effects, and tremendous, reverberating drums, that it's hard to believe it's the work of a mere threesome. Kudos are perhaps in order to neo-psych mainstay Dave Fridmann, who mans the mixing boards here with a relish and restraint that helps make this one of the most tasteful (and tasty) records on his recent résumé. Credit frontman Kevin Parker's lazily drawled, remarkably Lennon-esque vocals, too, (frequently Leslie'd or otherwise processed, which helps) with giving the album an extra air of free-floating authenticity (while only occasionally giving up anything as specific and tangible as a substantially intelligible lyric). It's only infrequently that individual songs manage to stand out from the surrounding fluid, atmospheric haze -- typically when the band decides to leave its hooks a bit of space to breathe, as on the chunky, chugging closer "I Don't Really Mind" or the crisp, snakily phased guitar lick cementing the deliciously poppy "Solitude Is Bliss." But the dearth of standout tracks here hardly feels like an issue -- indeed, Innerspeaker coasts so beautifully on its blissful, billowing waves of sound that readily discernible hooks almost seem like gratuitous distractions.© K. Ross Hoffman /TiVo

Jeremy Denk's revelatory recording of J.S. Bach's Goldberg Variations is a special treat, not only because of his penetrating exploration of this keyboard classic, but also for his insightful "liner notes," which are provided on a companion video DVD, rather than printed in a booklet. Denk is a versatile pianist, as well as an essayist, blogger, chemist, and recipient of the MacArthur Foundation "genius grant," and he has performed the Goldberg Variations many times in concert, devoting considerable thought and energy to this masterpiece over the years. Approaching the work from many angles, Denk's understanding of Bach's music is multifaceted, and he reveals the music's brilliance with the care of a jeweller. Playing with a generally bright tone, his touch is subtle and carefully considered, and his treatment of Bach's counterpoint is highly focused; each line is given its independence and transparence by clean execution, nuanced phrasing, and minimal use of the pedals. There's a kind of euphoria in his playing that isn't expressed in a rush of emotions or loud dynamics, but rather in the simple joy of playing cleanly and briskly, with each passage feeling intellectually coherent and emotionally honest. This is an invigorating performance, and it is highly recommended for Denk's clarity of vision and original interpretation.© TiVo

On Soul, trumpeter and composer Jeremy Pelt's third offering for High Note, his stellar quintet with saxophonist J.D. Allen, pianist Danny Grissett, bassist Dwayne Burno, and drummer Gerald Cleaver is intact, having been together for nearly six years. That said, where his first two offerings for the label were exceptional exercises in on-the-edge post-bop and modal jazz, Soul looks all the way back to 2003's Close to My Heart for comparison -- one that reveals just how far Pelt has come as a composer, a soloist, and an arranger. Soul is a collection of (mostly) blues and ballads. He wrote all but two of the album's eight tunes: the Sammy Cahn standard "Moondrift" (on which the band is fronted by vocalist Joanna Pascale) and a lively reading of George Cables' "Sweet Rita Suite, Pt. 2: Her Soul." Pelt and his band recorded this set in a single day, and had nuanced it all live before hitting the studio. On display here are intimacy, nuance, elegance, and an adventurous communication that is nearly symbiotic -- traits not normally associated with ballads or blues (these days, anyway). The frontline of Pelt and Allen is in perfect sync throughout, whether the two are playing counterpoint ("The Ballad of Ichabod Crane") or in unison ("The Story"). The exchange between ballads and blues is fluid. The former is an example of both existing side by side because of Pelt's structural harmonic development and Grissett's confident pianism. On "The Tempest," Burno and Cleaver push Grissett, who responds with flurries of notes and then the horns. The rhythm section's freedom is balanced by the horn solos and brief, contrapuntal head. On "Moondrift," Pascale is able to extract from her delivery every unnecessary utterance; Pelt is known for his sharp sense of economy, and Pascale rises to the challenge with a lovely, disciplined vibrato that allows the band to create shades of meaning behind her. The set's longest tune, "What's Wrong Is Right," commences with a slightly dissonant, Monk-esque harmonic statement and features excellent solos from Pelt, Grissett, and Allen; Burno and Cleaver drive them relentlessly, all the while swinging like mad. Soul is another high-water mark for Pelt and company, and an exercise in taking the tradition and giving it a thoroughly modern twist without sacrificing its heart.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Taking a more stripped-down approach than the expansive electric path he's been pursuing since 2013's Water and Earth, trumpeter Jeremy Pelt's 2016 album, #Jiveculture, is a visceral exploration of small-group post-bop. It's also Pelt's first album featuring legendary bassist and Miles Davis associate Ron Carter. Also joining Pelt here are longtime bandmates pianist Danny Grissett and drummer Billy Drummond. While Pelt has never completely eschewed swinging, harmonically challenging, straight-ahead jazz, his previous efforts, Water and Earth, Face Forward, Jeremy, and Tales, Musings, and Other Reveries were notable for their more experimental flourishes that combined Pelt's love of hip-hop and electronic dance music with his reverence for '70s-era jazz fusion, à la Miles Davis' Bitches Brew. For much of his career though, Pelt has excelled at the kind of organic, modal-based jazz that Davis played in the mid-'60s. This is the approach he takes on #Jiveculture and one that works perfectly with the addition of Carter, whose languid, supple bass style helped to define modern jazz. Here, Pelt and company dive headlong into a set of originals and lesser-played standards, including a jaunty take on Carter's own "Einbahnstrasse." Similarly compelling is the relaxed midtempo swinger "Dream Dancing," which brings to mind both mid-'50s Miles and '80s Wynton Marsalis. Davis is also evoked on the angular "The Haunting" and the lyrical, sad-eyed ballad "Akua," with Pelt utilizing a plaintive Harmon mute. Ultimately, while #Jiveculture is a more stripped-down, traditional jazz production than Pelt's previous releases, it's also one of his more densely packed, flowing with harmonic and melodic ideas that are all the more striking when set against the straight-ahead framework of a quartet.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Jeremy Pelt's 2011 effort, The Talented Mr. Pelt, features the same working ensemble the trumpeter has used since 2007, which includes tenor saxophonist J.D. Allen, pianist Danny Grissett, bassist Dwayne Burno, and drummer Gerald Cleaver. In many ways, the album is a similarly inclined mix of adventurous, on-the-edge, post-bop and modal jazz that featured on Pelt's stellar 2010 album, Men of Honor. A forward-thinking improviser with an ear for late-'60s Miles Davis and '70s Woody Shaw, Pelt pushes the brass envelope as much as possible and can engage a listener quite well on record. In that sense, you never get a canned or predictable moment on The Talented Mr. Pelt. Tracks like the funky, off-kilter waltz "Paradise Lost" and the forceful, rough-around-the-edges "Pulse" are terrific modern jazz numbers that bring to mind both the dreamy compositions of saxophonist Wayne Shorter and the early, firebrand work of trumpeter Wynton Marsalis. Similarly, the gorgeous later-album ballad "Only" and the driving, eyes-toward-the-horizon closer "David and Goliath," while coming at group interplay from different emotional directions, find Pelt and his ensemble working as a cohesive unit of like-minded individuals who truly seem to dig playing with each other. Of all of Pelt's prodigious talents showcased on The Talented Mr. Pelt, clearly the ability to pick musically sympathetic and daring sidemen makes the album a joy to hear.© Matt Collar /TiVo