Notable CDs

Oft bootlegged and even officially released in part, albeit with studio doctoring, these two Beatlemania-era concerts (average length: 44 minutes) finally get their un-retouched, major-label imprimatur thanks to the European Union’s recently fangled copyright laws. The relentlessly shrieking girls (who, if they’re still alive, are probably grandmothers now) grate, as does Mike Love’s tween-song stoking of their smittenness. But the energy is a welcome reminder that, once upon a time, the Fab Five could cut the musical mustard without a small army of sidemen.

Keep an Eye on Summer

The EU-copyright saga continues, providing the curious with 46 glimpses behind the curtain of Brian Wilson’s pre-crackup studio wizardry. What they confirm: that Papa Murray was a buttinski, that lots of hard work and loving care went into separately tracking the vocals and the instrumentals, and that the Jesus-music pioneer Chuck Girard clapped on one song. Amid such arcana, previously released mixes of several completed greatest hits emerge. Perfectionists will take comfort from the abundance of proof that Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Hope

Hope is Susan Boyle’s first album since being diagnosed with Asperger’s, sharing that news with the world, and experiencing the consequent relief. Not surprisingly, it’s also her most joyous album and, in keeping with her devout Catholic faith, practically a gospel affair. “Will the Circle Be Unbroken,” “I Can Only Imagine,” “Oh Happy Day,” “Abide with Me”—rather than being shaped by their juxtaposition with songs by Pink Floyd, Paul Simon, and Sarah McLachlan, the gospel songs do the shaping. Only John Lennon’s “Imagine” creates cognitive dissonance.

United States

Although remembered primarily as a keyboard-playing sideman (Bob Dylan, Rolling Stones) and band member (Small Faces, Faces), McLagan, who died in December, was also a crafter of hooky, clever songs chronicling love’s little ups and downs that Rod Stewart, Steve Forbert, and other similarly raspy-voiced blokes could do worse than cover. Nothing on United States is as hooky or as clever as 2000’s “She Stole My Record Collection,” but “Love Letter,” which goes “I’ll paint you a picture like Rembrandt only better,” comes close.

Spotlight

Neil Diamond still comes off gauche when pandering to middle-aged women in sold-out arenas, but the humbler studio persona that he has spent the last decade constructing gets more likable all the time. Beginning with 2005’s 12 Songs, he’s been sloughing off layer after layer of “adult contemporary” shellack. And now, with the Don Was–produced Melody Road (Capitol), he has fully reconnected with his Brill Building roots and made what may be the most charming album of his career.

First things first: Diamond is singing as well as ever. His distinctive baritone betrays none of the wear or tear that one would expect from septuagenarian pipes. Second things second: He’s a smart-enough cookie to know that his chart-topping days are behind him and that he therefore may as well luxuriate in the freedom attendant upon such epiphanies. Why, the Korean-American love song “Seongah and Jimmy” even risks silliness—and gets away with it. —A.O.