Releasing an album after an artist's death can be a tricky thing. Unless the person had died after the recordings were finished, there's always going to be a dark cloud hanging over it, leaving fans to wonder just how much of the artist's own work went into the album and whether it was released as a cash-grab. The best case scenario is that the artist was able to complete all (or nearly all) of their role in the construction of the songs, leaving them to be neatly arranged and sensibly embellished by the producer. But that ideal situation is a rarity. And that's why posthumous albums can be such a wildly unpredictable listening experience. Amy Winehouse, Warrant, and a whole cavalcade of other musicians are set to have their names attached to albums in 2016, and there's no telling whether those releases will sound anything like we'd expect them to. But then, that's partly what will make them such interesting listens. Because listening to a person's final moments in the recording studio is always a fascinating thing. And sometimes it would appear they saved some of the best for last.
10. Queen - Made In Heaven
Queens' final album with the original lineup, Made In Heaven, was recorded in a most unusual style. Since Freddie Mercury knew he was living on borrowed time following the release of their previous album, he decided to spend every free, healthy moment recording vocals in the studio. According to Brian May, the plan was "to go in there whenever Freddie felt well enough, just to make as much use of him as much as possible," a plan which the dying frontman wholeheartedly embraced, hoping to leave behind another rock solid addition to his legacy. You might think such a hasty recording process would result in an awkward, slapdash album. But Made In Heaven is actually a polished, poignant final chapter in the band's long-traveled rock and pop pilgrimage, despite not being released until 1995, when the music landscape had changed dramatically. Sure, some of the synth-heavy ballads sound a little overwrought these days ("You Don't Fool Me," in particular, feels ripped from a made-for-TV movie about someone coming to terms with death), but most everything else is fluffed-up, quintessentially bombastic Queen. ("I Was Born To Love You" could have been ripped from the recording sessions of A Night at the Opera.) But most importantly on this, Freddie Mercury's last record with his boys, are the performances from the lead singer. There's a tragic lack of the usual campiness that tended to come along with Freddie's vocalizations, replaced here with a touching sincerity. When he sings "No one's gonna stop me now," on the album's last song, it doesn't sound like the man who came to conquer the world on 1978's Jazz. It sounds like a man who's found acceptance (in more ways than one), going out with a last howl of bravado.