Considered an unprecedented magnum opus when it arrived on two records in May of 1966 (1997's Time out of Mind is actually only about a minute shorter), Blonde on Blonde featured Dylan continuing to demonstrate remarkable powers over the course of 14 new numbers. Working in Nashville with session men and a few conscripted recruits (Al Kooper, Robbie Robertson), Dylan continued to bend minds with his warped lyrics and phrasing. Even dashed-off numbers such as "Obviously 5 Believers" and "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" contribute to the crazed, fun-house ambience. Dylan will never be this wild again. -Steven Stolder.

In the liner notes of Sloe Gin, emerging guitar great Joe Bonamassa explains that one of his objectives is to experiment with acoustic elements he first encountered while listening to Rod Stewart's earliest work. "I think the heavy blues and acoustic mix well together," he writes, and the inviting variety of the disc's 11 tracks-from the rousing electric rave-up of the title track to the closing, tabla-propelled acoustic instrumental-persuasively underscores his point. Bonamassa is a major talent with a growing following, and as his fan base inevitably expands it may become difficult for him to keep everyone happy. Hardcore blues devotees no doubt will yearn for Bonamassa to stay perpetually plugged in, but in the long term that would be a disservice to his broad range of skills. Bonamassa rocks formidably and convincingly on "Dirt in My Pocket" (a bristling original composition), the title track (well suited for air guitar), and his Clapton-esque rendering of John Mayall's "Another Kind of Love. " Yet his softer works suggest that he sounds a little more comfortable and natural-vocally, at least-on the acoustic tracks. His retooled version of "Around the Bend" (his first take on this original composition is found on an earlier release) is an engaging, pastoral gem, and his paean to his upstate New York home ("Richmond") is perhaps this disc's most memorable selection. Bonamassa knows the blues (at the time of this release, he was the youngest member on the board of the Blues Foundation), but he also knows how to rock and how to sagaciously, artfully ease off the gas. -Terry Wood.

Inspired by the lovable Saturday Night Live white-boy blues schtick of Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi, director John Landis seemingly threw every harebrained stunt he could imagine-and millions of dollars in production costs and wrecked autos-onto the screen. The resulting film could have been mistaken for a bad case of Hunter S Thompson's DT's, but Landis never shortchanged the music: Cab Calloway, James Brown, Aretha Franklin, and Ray Charles all get their moment in the spotlight. Miraculously, the chic-shabby Blues Brothers, anchored by the Stax rhythm section of Cropper and Dunn, hold their own against the legends, perhaps by the sheer joy and love they have for the music. -Jerry McCulley.

Those who were irked last time around by Katie Melua's unsubstantiated claims that there are, and I quote, "nine million bicycles in Beijing" and that indeed "that's a fact, it's a thing we can't deny"-when at best it can be no more than an exaggerated guesstimate and at worst just plain made up-will be pleased to learn that there are no comparable aspersions on new album Pictures. There may still be instances when things just don't seem to make much sense at all, and metaphors can tire in her company, though set alongside a trademark melting lullaby such moments don't really tend to linger. Pictures is an album that, while essentially doing only what it should and little more, also begins to signal that her potential could yet be realised. Where she has always had the silk-lined voice of a fairy admiring her beauty in a dew-drop, and her albums of modern mainstream jazz have become naturally affiliated with bubble baths by candlelight, or large glasses of red wine sipped slowly, or both, this is where she starts exhibiting signs of maturity. On "What I Miss About You", "Spellbound" and "Perfect Circle" she sounds older, more contemplative, almost commanding, and genuinely soulful. Rising above the generic parapet she makes small steps towards an identity of her own. Perhaps more than just a pretty voice after all. -James Berry.

Piece By Piece-the second album from Georgia-born chanteuse cum naturalised Brit, Katie Melua, and the successor to her multi-million selling Call Off The Search-begins teasingly with the soft-peddled "come hither" jazz flirtations of "Shy Boy" and concludes with the whispering philosophical torch song resignation of "I Do Believe In Love". The two songs represent opposite ends of the emotional spectrum-sultry and kittenish on the one hand, solitary and ruminative on the other-but they also offer clues that the cutesy, crazy, easy listening Melua of Mike Batt's mentorship may be gradually acceding to the full bloom of self-determined musical adulthood. Melua's songs are often the more fretful and organic, the ghostly title track and the lovely "I Cried for You" are especially recommended, while the bluesier numbers (particularly the cover of the classic "Blues In The Night") seem shoehorned-in gratuitously to match an anticipated demographic. Batt's contributions are melodic, memorably buoyant and childlike, the Chinese-flavoured "Nine Million Bicycles" and the naggingly catchy "Halfway Up The Hindu Kush" are both charming despite their naive, pseudo-ethnicity and currently offer, particularly when compared to something as ponderously wooly as "Spider's Web", a necessary fun counterbalance to Melua's burgeoning compositional skills. At this stage, Piece By Piece fits together nicely like a little jigsaw puzzle. And even if it didn't, Melua would still sound simply ambrosial singing from a washing machine repair manual. -Kevin Maidment More to Explore See more music by Katie Melua Call off the Search (For Piano, Voice & Guitar) Call off the Search (CD + DVD) On The Road Again ~ Katie Melua (DVD) See all Katie Melua products.

No doubt 18-year-old Katie Melua has got used to being tagged "the next Norah Jones". After all, the similarities between her debut, Call Off the Search, and Jones's own five-Grammy-winning Come Away with Me more than support the comparison. Both feature precociously graceful and accomplished singers swirling through a haze of sweetly sensual sways-warm, slurred and gloriously lazy-and both certainly belong in the same stress-relieving rack in the easy-listening section. Yet to view Melua as a soundalike is to miss the strength and allure of her own distinctive character. Hers is intimate contemplation spiced with the jazzy drama of an off-Broadway musical. From the flamboyant inflections of her voice and the drowsy orchestra backing "The Closest Thing to Crazy" and "Learnin' the Blues", to the honky-tonk seduction of "My Aphrodisiac Is You", there's a street-smart attitude to her tender swoon that means the image of a dimly lit basement is never far away. With the velvety lounge of "Blame It on the Moon", the dreamy romance of the title track and the devilish blues of "Crawling Up a Hill", it's an eccentric and charming collection that very much stands Melua as a talent in her own right. -Dan Gennoe.

Largely, er, "inspired" by German director Wim Wenders' classic fable Wings of Desire, this heavenly melodrama features a high watermark for overwrought modern pop-song scores. U2's "If God Will Send His Angels" might just certify their on-the-sleeve spirituality as moribund, while Alanis Morissette's radio hit "Uninvited" conjures the frightening spectre of Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir" (fronted by a teenage Celine Dion-in-training), making the efforts of vets Jimi Hendrix, John Lee Hooker, Peter Gabriel, and Eric Clapton sound downright Mancini-esque by comparison. Veteran composer Gabriel Yared finds himself ghettoized on the disc's final tracks, but then he only scored the film. -Jerry McCulley.

Prior to the release of Aman Iman: Water is Life, it seemed that few people had heard of Tinariwen. Formed in a refugee camp in the southern Sahara desert, this Touareg band have released two previous albums since 2001, garnering awards and critical acclaim around the world. But 2007's Aman Iman: Water is Life is probably their best album yet. It's certainly the most accessible, particularly to music fans who would never dream of delving into world music. The circular rhythms of the bass and drums lay down a simple-almost hypnotic-beat, which is then given a rougher edge by the electric riffs of the band's four lead guitarists. It sounds like an even more primal, stripped down blues taken back to its roots (assuming, that is, that the roots of blues were sung in French and Tamashek). Throughout, producer Justin Adams (taking a break from his regular work as Robert Plant's guitarist in Strange Sensation) commendably avoids the high-gloss polish that too often plagues world music albums. This is rebel music in the true sense of the term. With Aman Iman: Water is Life, Tinariwen have created a rock album that's unique, vibrant and wholly original. Few Western bands can boast the same. [+]

Predictably, given the drug problems which preceded its release, Clapton's second solo album proper seems to come and go in an opium haze of its own making. Oddly though, it suits him. As the history of rock attests, if you're going to get into one hard drug then you may as well make it heroin. Whereas cocaine feeds the ego and destroys judgement, heroin sublimates it and allows the artist to regress into his music. Which pretty much describes where 461 Ocean Boulevard is at. Because tracks like "Steady Rollin' Man" and US chart topper "I Shot The Sheriff" sound like they have all the time in the world, they make light work of putting the listener in a similar frame of mind. Best of all though is "Let It Grow", for many the kind of tender, foetal balladry which finds Clapton at his most quintessential. Inevitably, he cleaned up his act and sporadically attained similar heights. But for sheer mood and sense of moment, 461 Ocean Boulevard remains his masterpiece. -Peter Paphides.

There has never been a better showcase for improvisational rock than this 1971 concert recording, and few (if any) live rock albums are in its rank. With only two studio albums (and plenty of touring) under their belt, the Georgia sextet tore into the Fillmore East with road-tested buoyancy. Titanic guitarist Duane Allman was at the peak of his powers, pushing his foil, Dickey Betts, to unsurpassed peaks. Vocalist-keyboardist Gregg Allman would have been a star in any other setting; here he's merely one more component in a brilliant ensemble. Duane Allman died shortly after At Fillmore East shipped, and the Brothers haven't scaled such heights since. But, then, neither has anyone else. -Steven Stolder.

Dylan was virtually gushing great songs when this masterpiece arrived in the summer of 1965. For the epochal opening of "Like a Rolling Stone" through the absurdly apocalyptic closer, "Desolation Row", his command of surrealistic language was daring and amazing. As a vocalist, he was rewriting the rules of the game. Jimi Hendrix made note of Mr Z's technically suspect pitch and decided that he, too was a singer. And the backing, though ragged, is precisely right. Is this the essential Dylan album? It's certainly one of them. -Steven Stolder.