The sumptuous yet sublime Lightning, Show Your Stuff, makes it apparent that quantity has never come at the expense of quality.

The ten tracks, heavy on ballads that comprise a third of the selections, seemed if not languid, then at least lacking the band’s dangerous edge. A few of Soup’s tracks have become classics. ... “Scarlet” with Jimmy Page sitting in for Keith whips up a funky enough froth, “All the Rage” doesn’t generate a boil, and “Criss Cross” sounds like an adequate Stones cover band. The rest of the extras are hardly remarkable different mixes, demos and instrumental tracks, generally of interest to collectors.

While the sisters have never made a bad album, as soon as you push play and the title track comes roaring out with its classic Led Zeppelin-styled riff, sung and played simultaneously by Rebecca, it’s clear that the sisters have found their footing.

Some selections could have been edited to make this a shorter, stronger collection, especially since the smooth, unruffled mid-tempo groove gets a little stale by the album’s final third. But it’s a pleasure to have Penn back on the music scene he is so inextricably tied to, writing and cutting fresh tracks with the same attention to detail and overall mojo he applied to the timeless gems that made him such an iconic name in American soul music.

Both knowing and nuanced, its 13 songs share Kelly’s determination to maintain his sobriety following his earlier struggles with alcoholism and drug dependency. It is, in the truest sense, both a vindication that his vulnerability was sorely needed, and that he’s wholly committed to his craft. It is, in fact, one of the best albums released so far this year.

None of this breaks musical barriers. Still, Cocker’s assimilation of some obvious influences noted above hits a sweet spot that makes Beyond the Pale, some of which was apparently recorded live then enhanced with overdubs, impressive, often moving and hypnotic. Hopefully he can follow it up faster than the time it took to get here.

The Gleam III is sparsely arranged, amplified only by earnest emotion, simple sincerity and undiminished sentiment.

Tuttle’s supple voice, nimble award winning guitar chops and obvious love for the material carries these versions.

Overall, the playing and singing are well above average, which helps put across even the weakest material like the closing “Congratulations” ballad, the only non-original.

By the time the Beatles’ “Blackbird” closes the set in a slowed down blues arrangement with a string quartet, most listeners will be wrung out emotionally from these expressive takes on generally seldom heard gems. Bettye LaVette may not have penned any, but she owns them just the same.

Gritty yet determined, assertive but still steady, Joseph offers a stealth-eyed glimpse of a world seemingly on the verge of collapse. Salvation may be elusive, but clearly Joseph won’t give way to the inevitable just yet.

For those so inclined, Songs for the General Public is a giddy musical roller coaster ride through the poppier aspects of the 70s with more twists and turns perhaps than are necessary. Hang on tight and enjoy the trip.

There aren’t many that can keep the musical flame burning for this long and maintain the quality found here.

Perhaps the input of a full band or an outside producer would have curtailed some of Scott’s more impulsive, if well-meaning, tendencies and made this a more cohesive experience. They may not work, but give him credit for trying.

“Little Victories” and “Dogtown Days” may add momentary muscle — albeit it tenuously at that — but overall the focus is found in decidedly hushed happenstance. Happily, it’s hard to find fault with these tender trappings, one more reason why XOXO excels with little more than a calm caress.

Somehow simultaneously edgy yet soothing, these songs may not display the type of unbridled, jagged joy that these members’ main bands provide, but there is depth and complexity here, inviting immersive exploration.

In the here and now, with Jump Rope Gazers, they are bounding past their contemporaries.

Even though there’s little definitive here–Swift and Sansone’s approach to these Dylan chestnuts is more toned down than you might expect or anticipate– it’s a generally successful, instantly likeable meeting of voice, production and of course songs.

He’s one of America’s most unique and unusual artists, exemplified by this original and compelling release.

Where A Celebration of Endings excels most is not solely in its compiling of various sobering narratives with catchy or satisfyingly progressive songwriting.

While her singing remains strong and she is emoting about issues close to her, these tracks would benefit from more musical muscle. Regardless, even if Total Freedom isn’t her finest work, it’s encouraging that Edwards has returned to releasing new material and doing what she does best.

It’s miles from the bluesy/folk/country you might expect from a band with “Texas” or even “gentlemen” in its name. But proceed into Floor It!!! with an open mind and find plenty to enjoy.

Datura4 should pump up the volume at any party whose participants are either over 60 or just love the music of the era known for black lights, skin tight trousers, beards and waist long hair.

Crockett is not aiming for edgy but neither is he slick, overly smooth or worse, commercially motivated. Even when the songs describe the titular hard times, his affable approach makes them go down easy and, like the best performers, leaves you wanting more.

It’s a lot to delve into. As much a scholarly treatise as serious source material, the relit Flaming Pie is finally served up with the stature it deserves.

Between the lyrics questioning relationships and music that swirls and soars, Sucker’s Lunch isn’t easy listening. But those who dig deeper into Madeline Kenney’s uncertainties about love and affection will relate to the difficulties this process of starting a new serious relationship can be, and how wonderfully these complex and beautifully crafted songs tackle, even obliquely, that thorny subject.

Replacing some ballads with more upbeat selections would help this disc’s flow; it gets slightly repetitious over its 50-minute playing time. Regardless, there are enough resilient moments to make this a welcome, if long overdue, addition to the group’s impressive catalog. Hopefully it won’t take another three decades for its follow-up.

Old Flowers conclusively proves that Courtney Marie Andrews has reached a difficult to attain level, showing once again that the timeworn trope of “breaking up is hard to do” can be dreadfully unsettling personally but also creatively rewarding.