At the dawn of the '90s, Judas Priest were in sad shape: out of touch, seemingly creatively bankrupt, coming off the two worst albums of their career, and left for dead by many observers. Trying to right the ship, Priest jettisoned longtime producer Tom Allom and his tinny '80s sound, as well as the serviceable groove drumming of Dave Holland, and brought in veteran metal producer Chris Tsangarides and onetime Racer X skinsman Scott Travis. Most importantly, though, Priest stopped trying to be a stadium act in the midst of hair metal's heyday. All those changes come into sharp focus as soon as the title cut of Painkiller starts - Travis' thunderous (and crisp-sounding) percussive maelstrom lights an immediate fire under the bandmembers' asses; Glenn Tipton and K.K. Downing tear through a crushing, diabolical riff; and Rob Halford starts shrieking like a wicked witch, giving perhaps the most malevolent-sounding performance of his career…

No, you're not in Creed Taylor country yet, but you might as well be, for many of the ingredients that would garnish Benson's albums with Taylor are already present in this often enjoyable prototype. The immediate goal was to groom Benson as the next Wes Montgomery (who was about to leave Verve) - and so he covers hit tunes of the day ("Sunny," "Along Comes Mary," "Groovin'"), playing either with a big band plus voices or a neat quintet anchored by Herbie Hancock, and the sound is contoured to give his guitar a warm mellow ambience. But the eclectic Benson is his own man, as his infectious repeated-interval rhythm trademark tells us on his self-composed title track, and despite Tom McIntosh's mostly lame arrangements, George's work is always tasty and irresistibly melodic.

50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition of The Moody Blues second album.
This album marked the formal debut of the psychedelic-era Moody Blues; though they'd made a pair of singles featuring new (as of 1966) members Justin Hayward and John Lodge, Days of Future Passed was a lot bolder and more ambitious. What surprises first-time listeners - and delighted them at the time - is the degree to which the group shares the spotlight with the London Festival Orchestra without compromising their sound or getting lost in the lush mix of sounds. That's mostly because they came to this album with the strongest, most cohesive body of songs in their history, having spent the previous year working up a new stage act and a new body of material (and working the bugs out of it on-stage), the best of which ended up here…

Planets in the Wires consists of two lengthy tracks, both of which move through darkly ambient and vibrantly rhythmic sections, while simultaneously managing to be quite different to each other.
Each piece has a rhythmic section driven by sequencers and drum machine, as well as long meditative excursions into the heart of darkness. The title is a phrase grabbed from an undisclosed TV show, which is both a direct reference to the physics involved in the music we make and an apt description of the end result. 'Echoes' was named due to the accidental but obvious Pink Floyd reference in this track, and also because everybody has a piece called 'Echoes' somewhere in their catalogue.

The third album from Levon Eskenian’s remarkable ensemble is its most adventurous to date. As well as reclaiming the music of esoteric teacher G. I. Gurdjieff for folk instrumentation, Zartir situates Gurdjieff in a tradition of Armenian bards and troubadours including Ashugh Jivani, Baghdasar Tbir and the legendary Sayat-Nova. In parallel, an emphasis on pieces for sacred dance reaches its apex in The Great Prayer, an entrancing collaboration between the Gurdjieff Ensemble and the National Chamber Choir of Armenia, which draws upon ritual music of multiple faiths. Arranger Eskenian says, “I believe The Great Prayer is more than a mere ‘composition’. It is one of the most profound and transformative pieces I have encountered in Gurdjieff’s work.” Zartir was recorded in Yerevan in 2021 and mixed and completed in Munich in November 2022 by Levon Eskenian, Tigran Kuzikyan, and Manfred Eicher.

There probably isn't a recording anywhere of Johann Sebastian Bach's six Brandenburg Concertos that can match the breakneck speeds of the performances by early music specialist Marek Stryncl and his virtuoso period ensemble Musica Florea. In cases where a jaunty Allegro or Allegro moderato can be assumed, Stryncl opts for Presto, or even Prestissimo, apparently with sound scholarship to back up his choices. This may be a legitimate Baroque practice (lay listeners could not know otherwise, without access to Stryncl's research), but there is a point where the rapid tempos will seem unduly hasty and become irritating to anyone who wants to linger over such niceties as instrumental color, articulation, harmony, and counterpoint.

William Smethergell's oeuvre presents an intriguing challenge. Since little more is known of his life than his birth date and the fact that he worked as an organist at two London churches and as a violist at the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, we must form our impression of him solely through his music. That impression is certainly favorable–at least if we go by the two sets of six overtures published as Op. 2 (1778) and Op. 5 (1780): "Brilliantly scored, richly orchestrated works–ingenious, lively, and full of variety, bearing witness to Smethergell's great melodic inventiveness," was the verdict of klassik-heute on Op. 5 (CD 555 540-2), which Douglas Bostock and the Southwest German Chamber Orchestra Pforzheim introduced to us in 2023. The same ensemble now completes the dozen with the equally attractive Op. 2, a collection widely admired in late 18th-century London and beyond, and is now winning new friends.

When Johann Heinrich Rolle was born, Bach was 31 years old; when he died, Mozart, then in Vienna, was nearing his 30th birthday. In retrospect, it is tempting to count him among the countless "transitional" musicians who distanced themselves from the Baroque, embraced the fashionable galanteries of the time, and thus helped pave the way for the Classical era–as if they had foreseen what was to come. Rolle's career was indeed typical of his era: organist in Magdeburg, student of law, later active in Berlin–first as a legal advisor, then as a violinist and violist in the service of Frederick the Great–before returning to Magdeburg as organist, cantor, and municipal music director. In addition to a wealth of oratorios and cantatas, he produced a substantial body of instrumental music which, as this symphonic-concertante selection shows, places him firmly within the stylistic currents of his time: light-footed, elegant, spirited, and transparent–in short, so galant that the listener is delightfully engaged from start to finish.