The Super Deluxe Edition of Rumours is more than just the original album plus outtakes; it details the genesis of one of the greatest and biggest selling records in all of pop. Early takes of "Second Hand News" and "Go Your Own Way" -- both of which totally stand on their own -- reveal how Buckingham slowly transformed his tunes from sweet folk to propulsive rock. Christine McVie's songs, in contrast, seemed to have arrived fully formed (see the rough cut of "You Make Loving Fun"). Knowing all the mythical drama in which the Mac were then mired only intensifies the listening experience.
Billy Joel isn't just a singer and songwriter; he's a lover, too. And to prove it, the Long Island icon curated this collection of personal faves from his catalog. The standards are, of course, present, from the title track and "Honesty" to "Just the Way You Are." That said, not every pick is a making-love-by-the-fire ballad. He also included the up-tempo jams "Travelin' Prayer" and "You're My Home" (both of which date back to his early days as a folk-rocker). And for those who dig his arena-tailored Springsteen impersonations, "State of Grace" makes an appearance.
A lot of stoner-rock fans date the genre's birth to this now-legendary flop of an album. Released at the height of '80s hair metal, the Billboard had no space for a bunch of grizzled dudes from upstate New York dropping references to the occult while grooving like Sabbath and Cream. Even when the band goes into rust-belt bar rock mode -- as on "Gettin' High" and "The Candy Song" -- they sound ominous and oddly detached, as if they're serial killers who've just satisfied their ravenous appetites.
With its punchy toms and grooves that haul ass like 18-wheelers down a mountain road, Wild Child is a solid entry in neo-Jack White, retro-stained roots rock. What sets Tyler Bryant apart is his love for sleazy swagger. Rather than get hung up on Americana's need for tasteful authenticity, the guitar whiz turns all sassy in ways that recall Tesla and Heartbreak Station-era Cinderella. This really comes through on "Say a Prayer," boasting as it does a booming chorus of "mamas," and the dry-hump funk of "You Got Me Baby." Another keeper is the glam-tinged "Cold Heart."
When it comes to post-grunge bros who are also Christian bros, RED are of the fire-and-brimstone persuasion. "Release The Panic" reinforces this right out of the gate. "'Cause you're trapped in the countdown/ And your days are numbered/ Don't you know that you're done for," rages Michael Barnes over an industro-riff clearly inspired by Page Hamilton. This fatalism also manifests itself in the form of Barnes' reoccurring obsessions: sickness ("Same Disease"), death ("Die for You") and scarring ("Love Will Leave a Mark"). Forget all that black metal hokum; RED's prophecy is far bleaker.
Anchored, inasmuch as Zappa can ever be anchored, by two trash-rock classics (Stooge-guitared and poodle-bestial "Dirty Love" and Alice Cooperish anti-TV Jeopardy riddle "I'm the Slime") and one more novelty that '70s junior high smart-asses knew by heart (dental-floss cowboy gag "Montana"), this 1973 album is otherwise distinguished by what can only be called adult content, notably the disco-marimba perv wager "Dina-Moe Humm." An insane voodoo woman with curly hair ("Camarillo Brillo") and a Jean-Luc Ponty-violined jazz-metal werewolf ("Zomby Woof") also show up.
With its deep gulfs of acoustic resonance and profound emphasis on the notes that are left out, Blood Oaths of the New Blues falls somewhere between Scott Tuma's droning, country-folk deconstructions and the exquisitely atmospheric melancholy of outlaw visionary Mickey Newbury. In regards to lyrics and voice, the Wand sounds significantly more withdrawn than he did on the preceding Briarwood; that same uncanny knack for detail is present (see "Outsider Blues"), but it's hard to determine from which said details have emerged: dreams, memory or reality? Then again, maybe that's the point.
Southern-fried jam vets Gov't Mule are no strangers to ambitiously packaged live collections, yet with its six marathon discs, The Georgia Bootleg Box really does take things to a whole new level. Recorded in the spring of 1996, this material spotlights the act's original incarnation: singer/guitarist Warren Haynes, drummer Matt Abts and bassist Allen Woody. Most longtime fans would agree that this is the line-up, what with their vintage mix of blues, rock, funk and heady improv. Hell, maybe the best way to sum up the group's unique aesthetic is that it sounds great on both whiskey and acid.
Trapt aren't ones for reinvention. On the bruisers' fifth full-length they unload yet another set of hard rock slathered in the brooding hues of grunge and industrial. As per the usual, nearly everything beefcake Chris Taylor Brown howls about is intense: intense sex, intense relationships, intense break-ups. On "Livewire (Light Me Up)," for example, he compares making love to his lady to gripping exposed electrical wires. Not totally sure if he's singing about the same woman, but on "You're No Angel" he then vents frustration over her thinking she's a heavenly creature who can do no wrong.
Released 18 years after the golden-haired maven's platinum-clad debut, Greatest Hits is the first collection of its kind for Jewel. Which is really rather odd when one considers just how towering her legacy is in regards to the adult-alternative market. All the big ones are, of course, present: "You Were Meant for Me," "Foolish Games," "Who Will Save Your Soul," "Hands," "Down So Long." And just in case you want to hear those first two tunes again, tacked on to the end are country-friend re-recordings that feature Ms. Kilcher collaborating with Pistol Annies and Kelly Clarkson, respectively.
Aaron Neville's first album in four years finds him remembering the doo-wop sounds of his youth. With help from co-producers Don Was and Keith Richards, and a backing band that includes Benmont Tench from Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, he interprets these classics as softly swaying adult contemporary soul. He doesn't change them much as far as arrangements, and that's fine -- with a perfect song like the Impressions' "Gypsy Woman," it's better to leave it as is. A particular highlight arrives on his version of the Jive Five's "My True Story," which soars on his indelible falsetto voice.
The song "2112" tells the tale of a future ruled by evil priests who strangle creativity and destroy the last guitar in existence. An intergalactic war ensues, but the ultimate fate of the now-guitarless universe is left ambiguous. Many fans consider this the definitive Rush album, and with the titular seven-part suite and the brain-folding mathematical equations Lifeson, Lee and Peart work out with their instruments -- the Rush-ness of it all -- they have a point. What is often sadly overlooked is the impact the beginning of "A Passage to Bangkok" had on the Vapors song "Turning Japanese."
Even the most hardcore of Green Day fans have to admit that listening to ¡Uno!, ¡Dos! and ¡Tre! in a single sitting doesn't sound terribly appealing. That said, merging them into a single release does drive home just how bottomless the band's well of hooks really is. Sure, their overarching theme -- pre-party, party, post-party -- certainly is high-concept like that of American Idiot. Yet all three titles contain a wealth of great tunes rooted in the Green Day's classic punk/power-pop aesthetic. Don't be surprised if this music winds up aging better than much of the band's "mature" material.
This six-disc orgy of Velvets material features both stereo and mono remasters of the original album; Nico's first solo effort , Chelsea Girl; the singles that nobody heard; alternate versions of select cuts; recording sessions that were only available as pricey bootlegs; and a live show from 1966 that opens with a 28-minute early version of “Sister Ray” called "Melody Laughter" and closes with another 28-minute freakout. Of course, the live cuts sound like they were recorded from underneath the club, but this is VU in 1966 -- there simply isn't much music more influential than this.
Chevelle have never reached the level of superstardom reserved for the Nickelbacks and Korns of the world, but as Stray Arrows demonstrates, they've racked up their fair share of memorable hits. Far more important, they've achieved this while remaining dedicated to their personal take on Helmet/Tool hard rock intensity (chunky, brooding, bruising). In fact, some of the outfit's newer singles ("Face to the Floor," "Hats off to the Bull") are more intense than their older ones, which simply isn't how most bands evolve. Final track "Fizgig" was recorded especially for this collection.
Shut Up 'N Play Yer Guitar collects together three albums of guitar solos lifted from various live and studio performances by the virtuosic composer. With the absence of his trademark zany sense of humor and sections where he gets taken over by "jazz," you get to hear Zappa simply shred, which is a welcome turn as (say what you want about his avalanche of highly singular output) the dude can play guitar.
The Ronettes' debut is mega-classic -- one of the very best albums of the 1960s. The group had previously released a handful of unsuccessful singles, but it wasn't until they teamed up with "wall of sound" guru Phil Spector that their sound clicked. On landmark recordings "Be My Baby," "Baby, I Love" and "Walking In The Rain" a silky desperation oozes from Ronnie Spector's voice as she attempts to soar above the thrillingly bombastic arrangements. Though a deep cut, "So Young" just might be the most dramatic of the lot, an operatic mediation on youth that's utterly abstract in its minimalism.
Since dropping his debut Chariot in 2003, Gavin DeGraw has gradually become one of pop's most adored singer-songwriters. A good deal of his success comes from the many TV shows his peppy blue-eyed soul has appeared in -- these include One Tree Hill, Scrubs and Cold Case. But like equally funky Jason Mraz, DeGraw is also renowned for his electrifying stage shows. This is where Sweeter Live comes into play, which contains all his most beloved hits (from "Sweeter" and "I Don't Want To Be" to "Not Over You" and "In Love With A Girl"), complete with screaming girls craving to tear the dude apart.
There are no real surprises on this collection, just the best-known tracks from the English duo Tears For Fears. From early material such as "Pale Shelter" all the way to "Sowing The Seeds Of Love," the band's ambitious pop music is well represented.
EL&P's marriage of art pop and prog reaches a climax on 1973's Brain Salad Surgery. Reminiscent of Frank Zappa's innovative production work, the album is a massive sound collage, one that ventures from William Blake poetry ("Jerusalem") to manic baroque electronica ("Toccata") to sci-fi dancehall ("Benny the Bouncer"). The sci-fi vibes only intensify during the closing "Karn Evil 9" suite, the bulk of which features Keith Emerson's mind-bending Moog work front and center. On the fiery "2nd Impression" he even gets his synths to sound like robotic kettle drums; this is super cool, of course.
