What do the new releases shown above and reviewed below have in common? To me, they all show their creators working at the top of their capabilities — whatever the genre of music and whenever it was made. Purchase links are embedded in the album titles.

For example: these days, nobody does rock in the classic vein better than Anglo-American supergroup Black Country Communion. Never mind the unimaginative title: BCC’s fifth album V hearkens back to the days of Deep Led Purple Zeppelin in high style. Whether on opener “Enlighten” with its drone/riff switchoffs, the doomy chug of “Red Sun”, syncopated symphonic wobble “Skyway” or the crushing power-chord funk of finale “Open Road”, Joe Bonamassa’s guitar wails and stutters, vocalist Glenn Hughes howls at the moon, Derek Sherinian’s keys grind away underneath, and Jason Bonham brings that devastating family backbeat. From start to finish, this addition to my Favorites of 2024 list is whoop-ass hard rock at its finest.

Back during the indie-rock boom of the early 2000s, The Decemberists flew a geekier flag than most; Colin Meloy’s artsy ensemble reminded me of nothing so much as They Might Be Giants and Fairport Convention collaborating on a Very Special Episode of Glee. The band’s first album in six years, As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again is a double-LP summation of Meloy’s enduring obsessions: the snarky jangle-pop of Side One (“Burial Ground”, ” Long White Veil”); the death-haunted Brit-folk on Side Two (“William Fitzwililam”, “The Black Maria”); Side Three’s servings of vicious, brassy satire (especially the scabrous “America Made Me”) and – what else? – a side-long prog-rock epic, “Joan in the Garden” (think Pink Floyd’s “Echoes” with Uriah Heep mounting a hostile takeover), to wind the whole thing up. It’s all utterly theatrical and ever so tongue in cheek; but you can also tell that Meloy and his merry crew also adore what they (gently) mock. If you’re looking for a record that has everything including the kitchen sink, this sprawling, delightful mess could be just the ticket; it snuck its way onto my Favorites list with nary a warning.

DIY Brit-progger John Holden, on the other hand, takes his theatricality seriously, and the result, Proximity and Chance, is the best album of his burgeoning career. It’s sleek, richly dramatic musical storytelling throughout, whether Holden is basing his playlets on true stories (Victorian melodrama “Burnt Cork and Limelight”, modern-day spy scenario “Agents”), plundering Kipling to grand effect (the mini-cantata “The Man Who Would Be King”), or marveling at the odds against existence, let alone love (the two-part title track). An talented array of singers and players — Peter Jones leaning into his vocal roles and providing exquisite saxophone work, Sally Minnear leaving it all on the studio floor for the breakup ballad “Fini” — bring their A-games to enhance the lush synthesized orchestrations. Craft meshes beautifully with content here on Holden’s most flowing, accomplished effort to date.

Speaking of theatrical prog: two-thirds of the way through their late 1970s “folk trilogy”, Jethro Tull were arguably at the height of their fame and drawing power — so what better time for their first complete live album? The latest deluxe re-boxing from Tull’s catalog, 1978’s Bursting Out returns as “The Inflated Edition”; along with the obligatory, whistle-clean Steven Wilson remix of the original album, this 3-CD/3-DVD set includes concert video simulcast by satellite from Madison Square Garden. Both shows impress: Ian Anderson is an adrenalized whirling dervish on vocals, acoustic guitar and flute, while the rest of Tull is an equally driven performing unit, executing with passion and precision throughout a mix of hits (“Skating Away”, “Thick As a Brick”, “Aqualung”, “Locomotive Breath”) newer tunes (“Songs from the Wood”, “Heavy Horses”) and oddball moments (“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”? Eric Coates’ “Dambusters March”?) A sentimental fave from my college years, it’s as solid a sampler of Tull as you could hope to find.

As accomplished young players aiming for smart, retro-soul nirvana, Boston’s Lake Street Dive has occasionally got in their own way attempting to crown their groovy concoctions with Big Social Statements. But their latest, Good Together, hits the bullseye for brainy, danceable pop; Bridget Kearney’s ear-catching bass licks and Rachael Price’s arresting vocal hooks make for a winning combination on the title song, the single “Dance with a Stranger” – heck, all the way through the album! And with witty commentary on the state of postmodern love stirred into deep tracks like keyboardist Akie Bermiss’ “Better Not Tell You” and drummer Michael Calbrese’s “Seats at the Bar”, the whole band is pulling in the same direction, sharp and on point throughout. Even the thinkpiece ideas like the closer “Set Sail (Prometheus and Eros”) click this time; Good Together is proof of concept that Lake Street Dive can boogie down and philosophize at the same time. The end result is fun that stays with you long after your feet stop moving.

You can understand why the soundtrack of Paul McCartney & Wings’ live-in-studio video One Hand Clapping remained unreleased for fifty years – the drummer quit, new albums followed quickly, Macca tossed off a lot of twee tunes from behind the piano. But really, this is a magnificent find; raucous and committed, the band sizzles here. Linda McCartney’s thick synth sweeps, Jimmy McCullough’s eager, active lead guitar, perfectly judged touches of brass and strings all back up Paul’s riveting performances of core Wings tracks plus sideswipes at Elvis and the Beatles. There’s glam rock, a country excursion or two, the cinemascope brilliance of “Live and Let Die” – whew! Yes, Wings had their daft moments, but if you think McCartney never got his mojo working again after Abbey Road (or if you don’t get why people listen to this geezer who’s older than both presidential candidates), you owe it to yourself to hear this.

About twelve years ago, I heard Joanne Shaw Taylor live at a local hole in a wall and was appropriately floored. A fiery British blues-rock guitarist with an impassioned singing voice that sounds like it’s been soaked in Tennessee whiskey? Count me in! At every stop on her checkered path Shaw Taylor has always impressed, but her new Heavy Soul went straight on this year’s Favorites list. Her songcraft takes a giant step forward on “Sweet ‘Lil Lies”, “Black Magic” and the onomatopoeic title track – her developing pop chops mesh magnificently with her blues roots – and she tackles Joan Armatrading’s anthemic “All the Way from America”, Gamble and Huff’s funky “Drowning in a Sea of Love” and the Celtic soul of Van Morrison’s “Someone Like You” with joyful abandon. If you’ve not checked JST out, you should, and this is a strong a shot of her as you’ll find.

Richard Thompson is the guitarist Joanne Shaw Taylor probably hopes she can be someday, the songwriter Colin Meloy wishes he somehow could be; from his days inventing British folk-rock with Fairport Convention through a critically acclaimed set of solo albums that never captured mass attention, Thompson’s gleefully downbeat tunes and gnarly instrumental wizardry have never failed to move and shake those in the know. His latest album Ship to Shore is another first-in-six-years gem; if anything, Thompson is working on a higher level than before. His acidic takes on thwarted love (“Freeze”, “Trust”, “Turnstile Casanova”) leave you gasping for breath; shadows lurk behind the desperate infatuation of “Maybe”, the queasy jollity of “Singapore Sadie” and the downhome cliches of “What’s Left to Lose” and “We Roll”. Backed by Taras Prodaniuk’s bass and Michael Jerome’s drums, Thompson conjures a clinging fog of guitar anchored in power-trio punch, with one brooding texture and lacerating lead break after another. As the title of one of his self-released albums unsubtly insinuates, doom and gloom from the tomb are Thompson’s stock in trade – but watch out! His unique blend of heartbreak and black humor can be oddly addictive.

Finally, the undisputed masterwork of the man who taught King Crimson’s Robert Fripp to bend a string gets the deluxe edition it deserves. Robin Trower’s 1974 classic Bridge of Sighs hit rock fans in the USA (where Trower and Crimson toured together that year) like a ton of bricks; in vocalist/bassist Jimmy Dewar and drummer Reg Isidore, Trower had his dream team to escape the classical flourishes of Procol Harum and dig into musical veins previously mined by his hero Jimi Hendrix. “Day of the Eagle”, “Too Rolling Stoned” and “Little Bit of Sympathy” hit hard and funky; the title track, “In This Place” and “About to Begin” leave the listener floating on little wings of poignant mysticism. And everywhere, Trower’s unique solo sound; a guitar that really does sound like the sky is crying. A rough mix that reveals producer Matthew Fisher and engineer Geoff Emerick’s crucial roles in unifying the album and a raucous live-in-studio set provide the perfect complements to a genuinely great record.

— Rick Krueger

This set of Quick Takes is in memory of friend and concert buddy Jack Keller (1952-2024), with whom I saw Joanne Shaw Taylor, Richard Thompson, and many other fine artists live. Wish I could hear his story about working security for the Grand Rapids stop of Genesis’ The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway tour one more time . . .

And I will do alright
Well in truth, I might
I may be stumbling round on some cold night
And I will miss the times when we were so right
Although it seems so long ago, so long

Bruce Hornsby, “Swan Song”