The Beginning of Survival is a whopping 16-track collection from Joni Mitchell's Geffen period, recorded between 1985-1998, and carefully chosen by the artist as "commentaries on the world in which we live."
The sequencing here is so meticulous and effective that The Beginning of Survival feels like a topical song cycle rather than a compilation. Tracks trace meaning and impression onto other tracks; they inform and elucidate themes of resistance in the face of the dark deluge that began the culture war in earnest during the 1980s, and which has come to signify the nature of American society in the 21st century with no signs of anything but further fragmentation. The opening words of "The Reoccurring Dream" that begin this cycle state: "This is a reoccurring dream/Born in the dreary gap between/What we have now/And what we wish we could have"…

Since 2008, Adele has allowed listeners to peek into her world, carrying them through the major stages of her life as a shoulder to cry on and a relatable presence. With her fourth set, 30, she grants more access than ever before, detailing one of her most painful seasons with poise and grace. Charting the aftermath of her 2019 divorce, 30 is not a fiery breakup album. Rather, focusing on acceptance, growth, and owning her mistakes, she's created a time capsule for her son, Angelo, to understand what his mother was going through at this pivotal time. After the curtains part on the dramatic, Judy Garland-inspired overture "Strangers by Nature," she addresses the split with "Easy on Me," redirecting her focus as a plea for patience and understanding from her son.

This 1998 disc from Joni Mitchell harks back to the days when she heard the hissing of summer lawns and the jazzier essays of her Hejira days. The only difference between then and now is her use of a guitar synthesizer for her aural textures and melody templates. Always employing the best of musicians to help her out, Mitchell takes off on a trip through "Harlem in Havana" and ending up with "Tiger Bones" to show for it. Along the way, she puts forth "No Apologies" and rocks things up with "Lead Balloon" (which will remind one of "Big Yellow Taxi"), and contains one of her best opening one-liners ever. With "Taming the Tiger" dedicated to her newfound daughter and grandson, "Stay in Touch" could be about them, or almost anyone Mitchell's been close to…

In the midst of a global pandemic, John Hiatt walked into Historic RCA Studio B to record a record. Hiatt teamed up with multi-grammy award winning artist and producer, Jerry Douglas and his band, The Jerry Douglas Band. The result of those sessions would be the album, Leftover Feelings. There's no drummer, yet these grooves are deep and true. And while the up-tempo songs are, as ever, filled with delightful internal rhyme and sly aggression, the Jerry Douglas Band's empathetic musicianship nudges Hiatt to performances that are startlingly vulnerable. In life, leftover feelings can remain unresolved. Explicated in a place of history, a place of comfort. A sacred place, if you believe the documentation of human expression to be a holy thing. Here are Hiatt and Douglas, creating love songs and road songs, sly songs and hurt songs. Their songs, and now our songs. Leftover feelings that edify and sustain.

Since 2008, Adele has allowed listeners to peek into her world, carrying them through the major stages of her life as a shoulder to cry on and a relatable presence. With her fourth set, 30, she grants more access than ever before, detailing one of her most painful seasons with poise and grace. Charting the aftermath of her 2019 divorce, 30 is not a fiery breakup album. Rather, focusing on acceptance, growth, and owning her mistakes, she's created a time capsule for her son, Angelo, to understand what his mother was going through at this pivotal time. After the curtains part on the dramatic, Judy Garland-inspired overture "Strangers by Nature," she addresses the split with "Easy on Me," redirecting her focus as a plea for patience and understanding from her son.

"I want a deep, resonant, effortless voice," Peter Mulvey confesses in one of the tracks on this ambitious folk album. "A big voice – bigger than me." Throughout his semi-major-label debut, Mulvey affects a deep, gruff, bluesy vocal style which is, indeed, bigger than him, calling to mind the Rockwellian image of a small child wearing a suit three times his size. For all of its appealing melodies and accomplished acoustic guitar work, the album is full of that sort of overambition. But overambition is always preferable to underambition, and at times it make this record more interesting. Rapture is speckled with drippingly earnest spoken word pieces (including the previously quoted "The Voice," which concludes with the lines "with this voice I would cry freedom and then I would speak peace").

Paul Kelly’s first Christmas album is an extraordinary 22-song double collection that travels across the centuries, from a Latin hymn to well-known carols, from a traditional Irish folk ballad to new Kelly music written for Christmas poems.

Speechless, Bruce Cockburn's first foray into completely instrumental territory, is proof in the pudding that you can teach an old dog new tricks. There are 15 tracks here, the vast majority of which are redos of tracks from Cockburn's catalog. But given their treatment – many of them done as solo guitar pieces – the dearth of new material doesn't even matter. In fact, one could venture to say that these feel like altogether new pieces. Cockburn is a master guitarist; he often interweaves jazz, blues, country, and folk styles into his cross-genre songs. Here he shines, pure and simple. "Train in the Rain" (anyone notice how many of his songs are about trains and travel?) touches on Leo Kottke and Peter Lang; "Water into Wine" utilizes flamenco stylings while crossing into Gypsy jazz chords à la Charlie Byrd. A new work, "Elegy," kisses the modalities of "Greensleeves" while creating itself as a piece that evokes both absence and memory. "Rouler Sa Bosse" from Salt, Sun and Time juxtaposes Cockburn's six-string against Jack Zaza's clarinet, and becomes a straight-up gently swinging jazz tune.