Mean Riffs, Cathedral Organ and Plastic Seele

Regardless of whether you fancy McCartney melodies, transcendent church organ soli, doom-loaded riffing or a glam rocker soul excursion, you treated you in our latest recording round.

To Venus and MarsPaul McCartney leans into pop maximalism and creates an album that is the same parts of stadium-enabled bombast and the moody kilel is mood. “Rock Show” begins with the arena wealth, all glamorous thunder and playful posture, while “hear what the man said” effortlessly about jazzy saxophone licks by Tom Scott and some of the most powerful melodies of McCartney. Denny Laine and Jimmy McCulloch give Wings an additional rock force, the latter giving a scorching lead over “Medicine Jar”, which is as sharp as his warning texts.

The album plays like a kaleidoscope of McCartney's restless musical urging, from repeated stomp from “Ling Go” to the comic book What-Bam! From “Magneto and Titanium Man”. The remaster for the 50th anniversary gives the album an urgently needed breath and makes the mix highlight the styled harmonies and the underestimated keyboard textures by Linda McCartney. With the upcoming Wing: fly away Documentary promises invisible film material from the Venus and Mars Sessions, the exploration spirit of the album is worth a repetition.

Yes, masterpiece from 1972 was already a sound cathedral, but the Deluxe edition of Rhino turns it into a shimmering sound temple. The title track, a suite of cosmic size and dizzying time signatures, breathes deeper in this mixture, with Chris Squires bass like tectonic shifts rumbling under Steve Howes Serpentine guitar work. Jon Anderson's singing sounds even more essential and hovers over Rick Wakeman's cathedral-like organ in the department “I get up, I come down”. “And you and I” remains one of the most sublime pieces of progressive rock that have ever been recorded, and here is his acoustic intro.

The real surprises are available in the extended material: unknown early parts, where Bill Brefords jazz infloate's drumming is in advance. The 5.1 mix, which was supervised by Steven Wilson, discovered new details in every gap -Quire's counterpoint runs, Howe's ghost guitar teaching from Howe, Wakemans synthesizer. This is a new edition as an excavation and shows new brilliance layers in an album that already felt unlimited.

Bowie called Young American His “Plastic Soul” phase, but nothing feels wrong-is the sound of an art rock chameleon that dives in American R&B and finds something real in sweat and in the saxophones. David Sanborn's Alto whines like an exorcism through the title track, while Carlos Alomar puts the kind of liquid guitar groove that would define Bowie for the next few years. Then there is “fame”, which was written together with John Lennon, a snake radio strut. The album lives from tension – between shine and dirt, between cool replacement and desperate longing.

If Black Sabbath Was the birth of Doom, Paranoid Was the moment when the monster got on its legs, six floors and stamped into the future of heavy music. The title track still hits like a speed train, Tony Iommi's guitar tone, which is as thick as melted iron, while Bill Ward's drum fills with hardly controlled chaos. “War Pigs” is the real Apocalypse-Ozzy Osbourne's vocals, as if they are coming from the depths of an Air Rac bunker, while Geez's Butler's bass quantities like a Doomsday clock counts down to forgetting. The new Rhino publication increases the darkness and shows every dark detail on the surface.