Richard Marx's 1991 release, Rush Street, is a varied album that was billed as "the dark side of Richard Marx," and was also his last true rock & roll album (subsequent releases found him venturing almost exclusively into the adult contemporary domain). Rush Street explores different musical territories, with almost each song emerging as a cautionary tale in some form or another. The album kicks off to a rocking start with the bluesy "Playing With Fire" and the harmonica-enhanced "Love Unemotional." "Superstar" finds Marx in a funky mode, "Big Boy Now" is a catchy ballad that could have been a single, and "Streets of Pain" and "I Get No Sleep" (the latter featuring Billy Joel banging away at a piano) come straight out of '80s arena rock.

Carly Rae Jepsen may not be the most prolific pop star, but when she releases an album, she makes it count. On 2015's E-MO-TION, she proved just how much more there was to her music than "Call Me Maybe" as she expanded the sugar rush of 2012's Kiss into pop songs that were equally joyous and introspective. Four years after E-MO-TION, she makes another leap forward with Dedicated, an album that reflects her growing maturity as a songwriter as well as the pop music trends of its time. Jepsen trades E-MO-TION's deep dive into '80s nostalgia for a more streamlined approach on "No Drug Like Me" and "Automatically in Love," where swelling synths and loping beats nod to tropical pop while adding sophistication to her swooning lyrics.

This recording brings back an obscure session from the long defunct Andex label that was probably recorded around 1956. The emphasis is on Latin jazz with altoist Art Pepper, trumpeter Conte Candoli, tenor saxophonist Bill Perkins, pianist Russ Freeman, bassist Ben Tucker, and drummer Chuck Flores interacting with the percussion of Jack Costanza and Mike Pacheko. With arrangements by Bill Holman, Johnny Mandel, Benny Carter, and Pepper, the music is quite jazz-oriented if a touch lightweight. Worth investigating by fans of the idiom.

The Beach Boys' third and fifth albums make a good pairing on one CD, different as they are in content and origins. Surfer Girl was the album on which the group's and Brian Wilson's sound blossomed, and it did so on several levels. The title track was the first song that Brian ever wrote, and it's lucky that he saved it for this stage in their history, for it features surprising elegant and lush harmonies. The usual assumption is that, because of Wilson's hearing loss in one ear, the group's records work best in mono, but on this, their second album in stereo, the mixing makes inventive use of the two-channel separation, even on "Surfer Girl" (which, as a single in those days, would have been conceived in mono from the get-go).

Even though Angela Hewitt's repertoire is quite extensive and diverse, encompassing the Baroque, Classical, Romantic, and modern eras, her true specialty is the music of J.S. Bach, which she has recorded almost exclusively for Hyperion since the 1980s. With this recording of The Art of Fugue, Hewitt completes her long-running series of piano renditions of the solo keyboard works, and while not everyone is convinced that Bach composed this study of fugal techniques for the keyboard, Hewitt's performance is credible and satisfying. She controls the often unwieldy counterpoint by regarding the lines as if they were vocal parts, and her phrases are shaped by natural breathing points, as well as the different emotional qualities she brings to each fugue and canon. The Art of Fugue can be daunting for both performer and listener because its persistent tonality of D minor and monothematic material can be quite tedious in the wrong hands.

After spending a few years in limbo after scoring her first R&B hits "Dance With Me, Henry" and "Good Rocking Daddy," Etta James returned to the spotlight in 1961 with her first Chess release, At Last. James made both the R&B and pop charts with the album's title cut, "All I Could Do Was Cry," and "Trust in Me." What makes At Last a great album is not only the solid hits it contains, but also the strong variety of material throughout. James expertly handles jazz standards like "Stormy Weather" and "A Sunday Kind of Love," as well as Willie Dixon's blues classic "I Just Want to Make Love to You." James demonstrates her keen facility on the title track in particular, as she easily moves from powerful blues shouting to more subtle, airy phrasing; her Ruth Brown-inspired, bad-girl growl only adds to the intensity. James would go on to even greater success with later hits like "Tell Mama," but on At Last one hears the singer at her peak in a swinging and varied program of blues, R&B, and jazz standards.