This recording covers approximately five decades of literature for violoncello and orchestra. The fifty years between the two concertos by Vivaldi (ca. 1720), Haydn (ca. 1763) and Boccherini (publ. 1770), through a present and modern interpretation performed on period instruments.

There was a time when you could walk into your average record store and find the singles section by spotting the big block of black rows. These rows signaled the whereabouts of the Ds and tended to eat up a disproportionate space of the singles section. In 2004, the Mute label condensed all of these releases into Remixes 81-04, which itself was ironically (or fittingly) presented in multiple versions. This particular version is a triple-disc set that attempts to function as a representative sampling of Depeche Mode's innumerable remixes. It does an admirable job, making a point to highlight glorified extended versions and radical reworkings alike.

Sleep Token continues right where they left off with Sundowning, showing overall improvement as a band. Much like the previous record, this album's sound is pulled in combatting directions, resulting in a band that has still failed to define their sound. Because of this, few songs stand out. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts though, as This Place Will Become Your Tomb offers enough aural goodness to be enjoyable start-to-finish.
Enigmatic British band Sleep Token combine post-rock, post-classical, and post-metal tropes with soulful indie pop vocals into a blend that sounds like nothing else. They released their innovative debut album, Sundowning, in 2019 and found mainstream success two years later with the U.K.-charting This Place Will Become Your Tomb. The anonymous, masked collective unveiled their third full-length effort, Take Me Back to Eden, in 2023…

At the time of the release of Robert Lamm's debut solo album, Skinny Boy, in 1974, it was easy to think that the singer/songwriter/pianist intended to launch a solo career, even though no announcement was ever made that he was leaving Chicago. The group was at the peak of its popularity at the time, having recently released the third of five consecutive number one albums, Chicago VII. But Lamm, who had written most of its early hits - "25 or 6 to 4," "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?," "Beginnings," "Saturday in the Park" - was facing increasing competition from other writers in the band. And Skinny Boy, though its title song (also the album's single) had appeared on Chicago VII, was a departure from the group's sound, especially in that it entirely eschewed the use of a horn section (though Chicago guitarist Terry Kath was all over it)…

One of only two sessions led by flügelhornist Alan Shorter (Wayne's older brother), this set is a near-classic. Shorter and his quartet (with tenor saxophonist Gato Barbieri, either Charlie Haden or Reggie Johnson on bass, and Muhammad Ali or Rashied Ali on drums) perform six of the leader's complex originals. Barbieri lets out some strong screams in places but sounds more restrained and coherent than on his other avant-garde recordings of the period. The rhythm sections are stimulating and alert, while Shorter, although not a virtuoso, comes up with consistently inventive ideas. The style is sometimes slightly reminiscent of Ornette Coleman (partly due to the presence of Haden), but Shorter had apparently not heard Ornette's band before recording this music. Well worth several listens.

Their blatantly deranged name conceals Yes and Genesis-like progressive rock artistry and British progressive neo-classicism from the intellectual leftfield choice. Extended complex tracks, keyboard and guitar interplay and unusual lyrics. Taken from a live recording made during the final Dutch tour 26th March 1975.

The American synthesist Paul Ellis is a fast growing power in electronic music. From the Berlin school-orientated music he created with the band Dweller at the Threshold and on his early solo works, he switched to an impressive mixture between Berlin school, ambient and lots of own inventions. This album is another great addition to the Paul Ellis catalogue, imbued with his usual brilliant creativity and invention. He is a truly unique artist and continues that tradition here. The music is pure listening pleasure, with Paul's beautifully crafted and layered electronica totally entertaining you from start to finish. It also has that intelligent and reflective vibe that is so typical of Paul's work.

The limited-edition box sets in the Edition series (Silver Edition, 1993, ten CDs; Historic Edition, 1995, ten CDs; Jubilee Edition, 1997, 25 CDs; all gathered [with extra material added] in Ultimate Edition, 2000, 50 CDs) are the most sought-after items in Klaus Schulze collectors' circles, exchanging hands at outrageous prices. In 2009, Klaus D. Mueller and Schulze began releasing La Vie Electronique ("The Electronic Life"), a series of three-CD sets that reissued all the material previously released in these long-deleted box sets, plus a few unreleased tracks, with all the material put back in chronological sequence (the Edition sets mixed things up, time line-wise). Volume 1 covers the years 1968-1972 and is mainly very interesting. One highlight is "I Was Dreaming I Was Awake and Then I Woke Up and Found Myself Asleep," a previously unreleased 25-minute piece that, is stronger than Irrlicht, Schulze's debut LP. "Cyborgs Traum" is also major Schulze material.

While 2002's Down the Road was the best Van Morrison release in ages – with its autobiographical allusions, cultural critiques, and new band – it could not have prepared listeners for the jolt of this, his Blue Note Records debut What's Wrong With This Picture? While the album is hardly a straight jazz record, it does take the territory he explored on Down the Road another step further into the classic pop music of the 20th century filtered through his own Celtic swing, R&B, vocal jazz, and blue-eyed soul. The title track that opens the album is as close to an anthem as Morrison's ever written; he states with an easy, swinging, jazzy soul groove that he is not the same person he once was and wonders why that was so difficult for others to accept. There is no bitterness or bite in his assertions. If anything, the question is asked with warm humor and amusement as if it is indeed the listener's hangup if he/she can't accept Morrison "living in the present time." He asks, "Why don't we take it down and forget about it/'Cause that ain't me at all," as the song whispers to a close.