As with any of Jethro Tull’s early albums, The Zealot Gene demands more than a cursory listen. The intricate arrangements and articulate instrumentation result in a demonstrative display that continues to be well worthy of the Tull legend and legacy.

For all the eccentric performances and approaches, it’s hard to warm up to these songs.

It feels like the band is playing it a tad safe here.

Robertson recruited heavyweights such as Steve Winwood, bassist Pino Palladino and co-producer Marius de Vries to record twelve tracks that wade in soulful atmospheric moods and personal lyrical introspection on this generally inspired comeback.

Overall, arriving nearly five years removed from his prior studio album, UTOPIA sees Scott stay true to his style, his preferences, and his principles, going against the grain of the tendencies in the viral-hungry world that is 2023 rap.

While it's not in the vein of his riveting, pulsating classics, it's a tough, often lyrically reflective rumination set to no nonsense, simmering, often swampy blues inflected rockers with an undercurrent of taut funk.

Ultimately, this album will not convince any non-believers. But fans will find a lot to love, and perhaps even notice and enjoy the increased quality of musicianship as they bask in that all-girl garage-fuzz-pop glow and inch towards a future in hi-fi.

When Wayne is on, he's one of the best in the game, but on Human Being he's just killing time with sub-par versions of his far more popular songs – this is a completely superfluous release that lacks the relevance and immediacy of his mixtape works and the quality-control of his albums.

In Another World displays the Tricksters cranking out another 45 minutes of crackling rock and roll that belies the members’ age, extensive backstory along with a work ethic doesn’t show any signs of slowing down now. Cheap Trick is a group too smart to quit.

It's a Corporate World is a refreshing full-length debut that would serve well on any summer playlist.

Those willing to put forth the effort will be rewarded with a beautiful, stimulating and eclectic album that stands alone in a genre of its own making.

Generally missing, though, are hooks that bring you back for another listen. The songs are melodic and easy on the ears if not particularly memorable.

While there are dreary aspects to much of What Is There, the general vibe, and slick, meaty production, is one of a moderately hopeful future.

Cut half the roster on Chimes and you've got an amazing lineup of Dylan's peers and admirers.

Given Surfer Blood’s appreciation for the qualities of surf rock and pop, a conventional approach toward melody and harmony recurring in many of Carefree Theatre’s tracks is understandable. Nonetheless, it isn’t a detriment to the album’s collective listening appeal.

Magpie is chock full of tracks that show the Avett Brothers are (very wisely) growing their sound, while remaining true to their core principles and what listeners like about them to begin with.

It's all pleasant and inoffensive but with production that sounds phoned in based on market research, little is memorable.

This pleasant set of smooth honky tonk finds a sweet, somewhat slick path and never wavers as it coasts through eleven slices of radio ready country.

So view Everything Now as a glass half empty due to its inconsistency or as a glass half full of standout singles. You won’t be able to ignore it though, which, in today’s crowded musical landscape, is triumph in itself.

These songs may take a few spins to connect and early fans of La Sera may need to open up to accept the revised style. But most will appreciate Wisenbaker’s higher profile input and Goodman’s ability to remain distinctive in the La Sera guise while maintaining the music’s chameleonic qualities and urging it forward in her still dreamy fashion.

American Goldwing is an all-around great listen - one perfectly suited for late fall nights on the porch or holiday road trips - and it may even be the band's best record to date.

While the playing remains somewhat generic and you can’t imagine the group without Price fronting it, Free Yourself Up refines and defines Lake Street Dive’s accessible, retro-leaning, radio-friendly pop aesthetic.

It takes a few tracks for the album’s energy to ramp up, but by the time you reach “To Be Young,” the pop craftsmanship and solid performance have drawn you in.

It’s a logical extension of their earlier work that’s easier on the ears without watering down the inherent craftiness of the vibe or, even worse, selling out.

Although Jack's Mannequin hasn't been able to match the balls to the wall gusto of Everything in Transit, its 2005 critically acclaimed debut, People and Things is easily the most musically cohesive album in the band's catalog thus far.

“Truck Yeah” is a rare moment of goofy self-referentiality on the otherwise straightforward Two Lanes Of Freedom.

While his 17 new songs don’t amount to a flawless masterpiece, they do paint a picture of a Post Malone who not only knows he needs to turn things around, but also intends to at any cost.

Some, like musician Dean Evenson, believe that nature itself has a tone, a vibration. It’s low, hushed, almost imperceptible. But Barnett’s new LP seems to bring those sensibilities to the light, to the cultural forefront. Whether Barnett has studied the theory that Evenson espouses or not, the truth is that it’s in her work here. Clear as day.

These versions show a seldom seen side of Chris Cornell’s talents. They deserve to be heard by both existing fans and especially those unfamiliar with his stunning vocal talents.

While perhaps not the most ambitious of albums, Ben + Vesper's Honors is the kind of record that shows that the artists behind it know where their strengths lie. The duo works fast and works well together, with lush, transportative harmonies that cannot be denied.

It may have taken her over 20 years, but today Sheryl Crow is retrieving and expanding upon those parts of her artistic sensibility that had always been there.

Because of the lack of strong material and perhaps lack of preparation, The Blackbird Diaries ends up coming off like just one more project for Stewart, a gifted guy who needed something to do while visiting Nashville and making some talented new friends.

With nearly 80 minutes of music that will make you hear these 17 tunes in new ways, and in most cases drive you back to the originals to stare and compare, this is one of the few covers sets that pushes boundaries but still remains respectful to a classic band and its bulging catalog of timeless music.

In the end, this album just doesn't make it.

While the album may leave some longtime fans pining for their beloved band of yesteryear, those who are willing to listen with open minds (and ears) will soon realize that Say Anything hasn't lost any of its true musical identity, but simply expanded upon it.

How many times you’ll return to it is questionable, especially for power pop fans, but it’s a logical extension from the chamber accompaniment of the album’s opening songs and shows Folds to be even more gifted than many of his followers thought.

This is mood music, so little jumps out as the songs melt together. But a little goes a long way.

In the end, Alive As You Are is a polished and impressive effort that heralds DML's chameleon like musical ability by exemplifying you can in fact teach an old dog new tricks.

While O’Connor never really went anywhere, this self-assured and confident release feels like a comeback. It has elements of what made her so strong and startling back on her still dynamic 1987 debut but tempered and matured with the wisdom of a quarter century of experience.

It’s far from prime Rundgren and there’s little doubt that most of this would sound better with a full band instead of Rundgren’s “I’ll do it alone and save some money” keyboard dominated music.

The album is best absorbed gradually, likely over repeated plays with no distractions.

Existing fans won’t be terribly disappointed since there are just enough high points spread throughout the 11 songs to keep the faith. But even they might agree this is far from the act’s best work and even a few notches below its more creatively stimulating predecessor.

If Traveler seems too random and scattered for its own good, it's never less than interesting.

Just as good, and arguably better, than their first collaboration, this sympathetic partnership will thrill established fans as well as new listeners and will hopefully continue for many future editions.

Ultimately you wish they would have put more effort into what seems to be a really relaxed, yet not lackadaisical release.

The album is finished a scant 32 heart-pulsating minutes after it started, but nothing is rushed. Rather, the Lovell sisters have opened the door to a dark, bluesy, portentous worldview, something sinister and threatening even in its lightest moments. It’s like little else out there, so hang on tight and join them.

Some of the melodies and production tend to be a bit overwrought and there isn’t much in the way of a lighter touch. But it’s the Melissa Etheridge her fans have come to know and respect.

Those willing to take the plunge are likely to find enough here worthy of a future return to explore further and ignore, or more likely respect, its self-indulgent qualities.

The full-band electric tracks have many intriguing elements, including a vibe that captures the wonder of Crazy Horse while infusing that chunka-chunka sound with skittery guitar riffs and other young-blood input. But the new-era tunes tend to be marred by seriously clunky lyrics.

It's such a disappointment when something you hope is going to be great is, well, such a disappointment. That's the case with Dreams, the latest album from Neil Diamond.

Despite a few glaring omissions (no “The Slider”?), most of Bolan’s recognizable work is represented. Willner’s flair was matching artists with unlikely song pairings and having them gel perfectly, such as Lucinda Williams running “Life’s a Gas” through her moody, Southern-swamp personality.

It’s hard to imagine anyone other than extreme DM reactionaries finding anything here essential besides the abovementioned tracks [“Soft Touch / Raw Nerve” and “Soothe My Soul”], the stirring “Secret To the End,” and the mid-tempo “Broken.

There is more than enough proof in this sprawling set that Joe Bonamassa doesn’t intend to rest on his laurels or take his star status in the blues-rock genre for granted.

As 25 Years proceeds, the music grows fussier and increasingly self-impressed in its jazz and world music flourishes, yet even as Sting's voice grows slightly deeper and more textured over the years, he never really evolves or develops as a solo artist.

There's an undeniably unsettled, even creepy gothic quality to her noir approach that takes hold early and gradually ratchets up as the eleven tunes gently tangle and unwind.

His singing partners, all of whom bring their “A” game. They help make what could have been a forgettable, tossed off, commercially driven, contract fulfilling item into one of the singer’s more memorable projects. And with a catalog as rich and deep as Van Morrison’s, that’s high praise indeed.

With 17 mostly terrific songs (three sung in Italian), only one breaking the four-minute mark, the collection has the jittery intensity of a lion pacing before feeding time. ... Perhaps we could have done without the closing power ballad “The Loneliest,” but that’s the only misstep on an album that should thrust this band into worldwide superstar status.

Mylo Xyloto is fully realized and instantly revealed on first listen.

Whitmore might only occasionally let that rock ‘n’ roll animal out from time to time, but that scarcity--coupled with excellent pacing--is exactly what makes it so exciting.

A free yet fanciful spirit, Nilsson would likely be proud that his legacy lingers even now. A treasure waiting to be discovered, Losst and Founnd offers renewed reason for celebration.

Bridges' rough baritone talk/sung voice just doesn't connect with songs and production that seem lazy, if somewhat less self-indulgent than other successful actors who try to make their mark as singers.

This set's downbeat musings about life's foibles is ominously compelling.

Where Cale would experiment with horns, vibes, female backing vocals and even restrained orchestration, these tracks stay rooted in a respectful if rather heavy lidded closet.

Mission Bell is hopefully a transition record for Lee, one that shows him at the crossroads of polished, packaged pop tunes and the grittier gut-wrenchers of artists like Nelson and Williams.

If you buy Bingo! expecting to hear some burning blues, or to hear another of the Miller hits that may have excited you in the '70s, you'll be disappointed either way

Although the songs on Speed Of Darkness have a heavy theme, this fifth album by the band is anything but sorrowful.

As usual, the originals prevail. Yet even with its musical limitations, it’s hard to dislike an album that’s ultimately a lot of fun.

It's all as heavy and convoluted as it sounds, but the playing and production is top notch and those looking for an adventurous, unpredictable ride will appreciate Cursive's sheer depth of vision.

It’s hard to follow any Ry Cooder assisted act, but Outlaw coalesces around his own, more intimate sound. We can always use an honest, unpretentious Sunday morning album to enhance the usually easygoing mood, and for those moments Sam Outlaw’s unassumingly enjoyable Tenderheart hits the mark.

This album, produced by Steve Lillywhite whose credits include U2, Dave Matthews Band and The Smiths, shows this band is ready to ready to compete for world-class status. Rock on.

This is a tough listen and not in a good way. Most of the songs are little more than unfinished sketches, most just over a minute long, waiting for more inspiration to be completed.

The breezy, rhythmically complex melting-pot approach still plays a pretty big role on Candela, Mice Parade's eighth album, but more than ever, Pierce seems to have a vested interest in letting some graceful whooshes of shoegazer noise take over where necessary.

Taken in tandem, All Roads Home makes for an enjoyable outing, one that gives each musician an opportunity to take center stage while demonstrating a small sampling of their individual wares.

As much as the record is a tribute to rock and roll, it is as much a testament to Parton’s prestige. Who else could gather so many for a party in honor of the genre? Indeed, the album is a show for the ages, a show for one and all. Standing ovation.

Steve Dawson’s fleet fingers, dexterity and sheer musicality make this a must for acoustic guitar aficionados and a treat for everyone else.

Nobody's asking the Killers to restock their eyeliner, but if they insist on making everything so over-the-top, it would serve them well to crack a smile every now and then.

The lack of the Spector-ish sound, while understandable--Ronnie’s marriage to Phil was legendarily troubled--along with material that is far more powerful and enjoyable in its original form, makes this an experiment that fails on most levels, in particular from Scott Jacoby’s ill-fitting production and sonic approach.

The hitch in the album is the hit-or-miss probability of the listener connecting with the quizzical story, wrought in obscurity.

Even though their vocals aren’t always suited to each other, this set of mostly covers (some previously recorded by the participants), works relatively well, as long as you’re not expecting too much.

No, MDNA can't be hailed as Madge's best ever album, and it may not contain the most thought- provoking lyrics of her career (perhaps an intentional tongue-in-cheek poke at the current state of pop music?), but it is the reigning Queen of Pop's most inspired work since Music, as well as the highly addictive record Madonna celebrants have been craving.

Mercyland: Hymns for the Rest of Us hits its stride once it takes an old-school turn courtesy of the Carolina Chocolate Drops, who kick up some serious string-band dust with a cover of the traditional gospel number "Lights In the Valley."

A beautifully fashioned, classy and meticulously crafted background music, perfect for Sunday brunch among the NPR crowd.

If Only Run proves anything, it’s that Clap Your Hands Say Yeah are still making music on their own terms--they just have the budget and freedom to pull it off with a little more flash.

The band expertly navigates unusual, sometimes radical mood changes, with a maturity that forsakes some of its youthful friskiness without compromising an idiosyncratic vision that is just as compelling today as it was 25 years ago.

Chesney has an uncanny knack for finding top-shelf material which sounds autobiographical and mixing it with his own to craft a uniquely distinguishable musical statement.

Jennings' songwriting is at its best in Minnesota when reflecting this troubling sense of uncertainty and contradiction.

Pixies’ full acceptance of the shifts in their schema only further solidify their inimitable identity. The exultant result: Head Carrier, a new classic.

The Gleam III is sparsely arranged, amplified only by earnest emotion, simple sincerity and undiminished sentiment.

Once you accept that Lana knows exactly what she's doing--that she, not Interscope Records or any of her co-producers, is the architect behind this R-rated retro-pop fantasy--then maybe you'll start loving her, too.

The 11 songs on Rockpango show the brothers are not only masters of their art but have a comfort level in their maturing sound that allows them to expand it without losing its essence.

Headphones enhance the experience as they help immerse the listener in Robertson’s edgy, creative and literate world.

Now in her early 70s, Wilson’s distinctive, powerful pipes haven’t lost any of their soulful command on this eleven-track program mixing intriguing covers with Wilson co-penned originals.

Matthews’ ageless voice remains warm and inviting as he winds his way through this hour long set, creating a wistful yet never regretful mood.

With 10 songs running just over 40 minutes, the disc is compact and taut. That helps makes this a moderately successful return for a veteran singer and occasional songwriter who always seems one hit away from the mainstream audience that threatens to constantly elude her.

Grace Potter's voice is the perfect compliment to the band's newly designed dual-guitar blitz.

Nothing here hasn’t been done many times before, and much better, by either the original artists (do we need a shockingly feeble-voiced Willie Nelson dueting with Lauper on his “Night Life”?) or others closer to the country aesthetic.

Combining their soft and sensual harmonies and energetic, pop song craft into a set of lovely songs, Beauty Queen Sister confirms The Indigo Girls are still making invigorating and emotional music, have plenty left to say and show no signs of slowing down or easing into nostalgia.

The Chili Peppers try to strike that same balance on their latest, I'm With You, which may turn out to be a minor installment in their canon but still accomplishes the impossible.