Franz Liszt's songs remain the least-often-heard segment of his output, even as serious historians of 19th century music, including Alfred Brendel, have praised them. They are a bit uneven, and they are, for a composer who made his living with the grand gesture, uncharacteristically quiet. Various singers have taken them up, however, and this major release by Jonas Kaufmann, with the invaluable Helmut Deutsch on the piano, marks a kind of milestone. The songs are striking for how little they resemble Schumann or anything else written anywhere near the same time (until perhaps Hugo Wolf), and Kaufmann absolutely gets their originality.

One of the unsung heroes of 1970s soul, Willie Hutch was never the big name he deserved to be. The smooth singer/composer had a few major and moderate hits, but commercially, he didn't make it to the level of Marvin Gaye, Ronald Isley, and Curtis Mayfield (all of whom he inspires comparisons to). Released in late 1998, The Very Best of Willie Hutch spans 1972-1982 and reminds us how engaging a singer he was in his heyday. Hutch could get funky when he wanted to, and he does so with splendid results on "Get Ready for the Get Down" (a number 24 R&B hit), "Brothers Gonna Work It Out," and the theme from the 1973 blaxploitation film Foxy Brown. But for the most part, Hutch made his mark as a romantic crooner. It is Hutch's smooth, romantic side that prevails on "Sunshine Lady," "I Choose You," "What You Gonna Do After the Party," and his inspired makeover of Barbra Streisand's "The Way We Were." Appropriately, the CD opens with Hutch's biggest hit: the perky, feel-good anthem "Love Power," which went to number nine on the R&B singles charts. Full of gems that were recorded during Hutch's peak years, this CD is essential listening for lovers of 1970s soul.

Grammy-winning artist Lenny Kravitz is celebrating the 30th anniversary of his fourth studio album Circus with a new digital deluxe edition of the landmark record.

Guitarist Phil Manzanera and saxophonist Andy Mackay (Roxy Music) are set to release a new live album, AM PM Soho Live, recorded in an Intimate venue in Soho with special guest and original Roxy Music drummer Paul Thompson. A thrilling combination of deeply instinctive instrumental interplay between saxophone and guitar swathed in ambience and unique textures, it felt impossible to pinpoint. In part classical purity, caressing and inviting, in others a throbbing invitation to an electronic Bossa Nova dance floor. The album features reimagined versions of material from their AM PM studio album alongside previous compositions from Roxy and solo albums that the band debuted during the Soho residency. Engineered by Mike Boddy.

In several respects, this is a very strange album, though the music isn't strange at all and is in fact quite typical vintage Jimmy Reed. First, despite what the title might lead you to believe, this is not a live recording; all 23 of the tracks were done in the studio. Not only that, they weren't even performed at New York's famed venue Carnegie Hall, although producer Calvin Carter would later claim they were; instead, everything was cut elsewhere.
According to Pete Welding's notes to the record in the year (1961) the double LP was first issued, one-half is devoted to "recreations of some of Jimmy's most celebrated and biggest-selling recordings," while "the second LP here is Jimmy's celebratory recreation of his highly successful appearance at august Carnegie Hall this past May"…

It's hard to believe that the Cure could release an album even more sparse than Three Imaginary Boys, but here's the proof. The lineup change that saw funkstery bassist Michael Dempsey squeezed out in favor of the more specific playing of (eventually the longest serving member outside Robert Smith) Simon Gallup, and the addition of keyboardist Mathieu Hartley resulted in the band becoming more rigid in sound, and more disciplined in attitude. While it is not the study in loss that Faith would become, or the descent into madness of Pornography, it is a perfect precursor to those collections. In a sense, Seventeen Seconds is the beginning of a trilogy of sorts, the emptiness that leads to the questioning and eventual madness of the subsequent work…

This double-disc, 26-track anthology spans the band's eight-albums-in-five-years prime, from its workmanlike 1967 covers of blues staples "I Want to Know" and "Spoonful" through a pair of rare 1968 singles (highlighted by Lee's quirky, country-folk "Portable People") to its 1971 pop hit, "I'd Love to Change the World." Lee's primitivist urges and legendary, lightning-fingered guitar heroics fuel everything from moody, simmering dirges like "Help Me" and upbeat Chi-town shuffles in the "Me and My Baby" mold to the Cro-Magnon riff-rock of "Love Like a Man" and the proto-psych-blues of "50,000 Miles Beneath My Brain." If TYA's music is often as nimble and slick as a stegosaur–and arguably as timely–it's equally as leathery, unrelenting, and hard to ignore.