Listen along to this post with our In 1970, Janis Joplin was 27 going on 57. Catapulted to rock stardom just two years earlier, she was quickly buckling under intensely deleterious drug abuse. Moreover, her once-preternatural howl had devolved into a ragged, shredded cry: still expressive, mind you, but the damage was apparent. As detailed in Myra Friedman's 1973 biography Buried Alive, alcohol and drugs were Joplin's way of coping with the insecurity and anxiety lurking just beneath her got-it-covered swagger and persona as the groovy, party-hard Queen of Psychedelic Soul.
She was also at a crossroads artistically. Though Cheap Thrills (recorded with Big Brother & The Holding Co. in '68) was both a critical and commercial success, there were many in the rock scene who believed Joplin had yet to release a studio album that captured her fiery genius as a live performer. I Got Dem Ol' Kozmic Blues Again Mama!, her first record post-Big Brother, exemplified this. The performances are rather stiff, the horn-based arrangements decadent and unnatural-feeling. Part of the issue was Joplin herself -- or, more to the point, the inconsistent and erratic behavior that inevitably accompanies substance abuse.
But equally problematic was the fact that she was, as an artist, an extreme proposition in the late '60s. The Texas-born powerhouse was a radically new mutation in rock 'n' roll's evolution: a woman with the banshee wail of Tina Turner specializing in heavy-ass groove music soaked in post-garage feedback and distortion. When you really think about it, Joplin was (along with Jim Morrison) the prototype for the blues-soaked, hard-rock screaming frontmen of the '70s: Robert Plant, Paul Rodgers, Bon Scott, Rusty Day, etc. She just arrived a couple years too soon. As a result, Columbia Records, and in particular label boss Clive Davis, had trouble capitalizing on her singular talent.
Despite this mountain of obstacles, Joplin entered the studio one last time in the fall of '70 (a month before her death on October 4) and recorded what would be her finest album, the posthumously released Pearl. Influenced by the back-to-roots movement The Band and The Rolling Stones helped spark a couple years prior, the singer assembled The Full Tilt Boogie Band in an attempt to reconnect with her love of earthy rock, soul, blues and even country. No psychedelic excesses, no overbearing brass charts, just her and a fantastic rock band that could swing electric ("Move Over") just as adroitly as they could strum acoustic (the timeless rendition of Kris Kristofferson's "Me and Bobby McGee").
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We've spent the last month or so entirely transfixed with determining our favorite music of 2011, but it's time now to look forward, not backward. Below, the Rhapsody brain trust lays out the albums we're most looking forward to hearing in the first half of 2012, from Madonna to Rick Ross, M.I.A. to Van Halen, Sleigh Bells to Tim McGraw, Juanes to Esperanza Spalding. To get you going, here's a quick
Welcome to the inaugural edition of our Jazz Critics' Poll, in which we survey 120+ national critics on their favorite albums of the year, a tradition we're taking on from the 




Welcome to Rhapsody's first-annual Jazz Critics' Poll, wherein 100+ national writers voted on their favorite albums of the year in a tradition we're taking on from the
Welcome to Rhapsody's first annual Jazz Critics' Poll, wherein 120+ national writers voted on their favorite albums of the year in a tradition we're taking on from the
Welcome to Rhapsody's first-annual Jazz Critics' Poll, wherein 122 national writers voted on their favorite albums of the year in a tradition we're taking on from the Village Voice. Below are the full results and methodology; poll guru Francis Davis' full introductory explanation is 
It's the most wonderful time of the year: list season! Music obsessives of all stripes spend December painstakingly compiling their favorite albums and singles of the past 12 (or so) months, and we here at Rhapsody are no different. So please enjoy this absurdly huge Best of 2011 blowout. We've got staff-compiled lists of our 50 favorite albums and singles (in which everyone from James Blake to Nicki Minaj vies to fight off Adele), individual genre lists for everything from hip-hop to metal to Christian to Latin, and playlists galore. It was a fascinating, bizarre, wildly divergent year. We've made our best attempt to summarize it below.















Maybe 2011 was the year of the vibraphone. Or the year of the piano trio. Or the year of Brad Mehldau or Paul Motian. Or another year of Miles. The best jazz records of 2011 are a varied bunch, but there are certain strains that float through the year's favorite recordings. The sheer diversity and strength of the offerings prove that the genre continues to expand boundaries with creativity, vision and bold sonic experiments. 
Although we love last century's Christmas classics, sometimes the unrelenting spins of
With breezy, swinging panache, Vince Guaraldi pulled off something nearly impossible with his 1965 score to 
To get your head around trumpeter, virtuoso and jazz godhead
There are all sorts of milestones in this month's Jazz Roundup. The biggest deal comes from Wynton Marsalis, whose 50th birthday was celebrated with a pair of records that show the trumpeter's paramount cultural clout. How many other musicians' labels issue a birthday retrospective? How many people get to jam with Clapton to celebrate half a century? There's also the final take from iconic vocalist Etta James and the realization of Christian McBride's long dream to lead a big band. Those three are joined by James Carter's organ trio and some torch-y vocals from L.A. pretty boy Michael Feinstein.

When you listen to jazz sessions from 1967, the genre's wild transformation is immediately evident. Jazz heads at the time had their work cut out for them trying to keep up:
If players on the progressive edge of contemporary jazz often push boundaries and end up pushing away all but the smallest, most esoteric audiences, there's a lesson to be learned from avant-garde veteran Steve Coleman. Late in his career on the edge, Coleman is delivering his most beguiling and listenable records, deeply rooted in cyclical patterns and inspired by West African spiritual traditions. "Tea for Two" it is not, but Coleman's challenging Mancy of Sound has been in constant rotation for me, and every listen seems to uncover another layer. 
So anyway: the extremely sore arm came first. Was initially scared it might be carpal tunnel. Googling suggested otherwise. Was relieved to learn that it being on my right side was good news. (Left can be a sign of heart failure!) Doctor prescribed exercises and ointments and ice packs. Very weird, since I don't play tennis, but so be it.
For a five-second snapshot of what this mix is all about, listen to the opening seconds of
We admit that the title of this Cheat Sheet we've compiled ("we" being Latin editor 
This summer's new jazz releases seem to be on an equatorial vacation, with Cuban rhythms, breezy bossa nova and a sunny Malian compilation defining the season. The most thrilling trip comes from David Sanchez, 
Ever since fusion devolved into flaccid pop-jazz in the 1980s, the genre has been treated with suspicion by more than a few jazz snobs. In fact, fusion didn't get a fair shake right out of the gate. When Miles Davis went electric and started performing before rock audiences, critics couldn't stop condemning the man. "SELLOUT!" they proclaimed ad nauseam, even though the music he made was wildly challenging and ambitious.
A bunch of punk kids form their own adult-scaring, mainstream-baiting subculture with a unique style, slang and sound. Sound familiar? That's the recipe for basically every pop music style ever, but the particular concoction we're talking about here resulted in the Latin-laden R&B and swing genre known as pachuco boogie, which came to life in the '40s and '50s.