Ultimately, the legacy Pinkerton leaves behind is it being one of the most emotional and raw albums ever made. It's an album that many can relate to, even if you're not on the same level of crazy as Rivers was back then.

The bonus material on discs five and six of the box set (which also includes Achtung Baby's severely underrated 1993 follow-up Zooropa and two pointless discs of remixes that likely won't be of much use even to die-hards) only serve to illuminate how much had to go right for the album to be as good as it was.

Time has only been kind to Life's Rich Pageant, and, hopefully, not much more time will be required to it to take its place in the rock and roll canon as the practically perfect album that it is.

One of those rare, near-flawless works of art that only grows finer with age.

Somehow, allowing it its true moment on the shelves has solidified the record's historical importance.

No one's asking bigger questions of himself or more from himself in music than Flying Lotus is. These records are the only appropriate answers and Until The Quiet Comes is his most accomplished yet.

Fleet Foxes have become a band who will not stop pushing, who will challenge themselves to avoid stagnancy, who will work with both their instruments and their minds. Because of that, the audience is able to reap the fruit and feast on it together.

Both Ways Open Jaws will strike you as both new sounding and classic, as both fresh and rooted in tradition. Most importantly, it will strike you as a treasure, and probably, as the best album you have heard in a long time.

If, as the artist himself has recently hinted, Kaputt really does mark the end of Destroyer, then it succeeds as a triumphant swan-song.

We Buy Diabetic Test Strips goes deeper, darker than any of Armand Hammer’s previous albums. It even eclipses woods and Kenny Segal’s stellar Maps as the best hip hop record this year, at least so far.

It’ll be hard to outdo this 20-track masterpiece, but at this point it’s impossible to bet against them.

Sunbather is a future classic, no matter where you pigeonhole it, and that’s the mark of a true sonic masterpiece. Black metal, not black metal, just call it what it is: perfect.

Kelela‘s second album is a transformative work of art that merges house and ambient, soul and dance, and resides within interzones – like the titular animal, a mediator between the material world and the realm of the spirits. It’s a vast canvas of cultural expressions, emotional tones, erotic exploration and musical brilliance.

Fucked Up actively refuse any sort of definition, and David Comes To Life proves that they're more than capable of shouldering that burden.

In addition to being one of the year's most soberingly bleak R&B releases, Channel Orange is also one of the prettiest.

Centipede Hz is dense and unforgivingly full-throttle--you'll find no "Loch Raven" or even "Chores" here – and home to some of the band's best and most involved lyrics to date.

woods has transcended the line of being a great artist and entered the realm of genius. With Kenny Segal’s help, he has conjured a work that is wholly its own, both in the artist’s discography and in the rap genre.

Shabazz Palaces have pushed the music forward, so that it once again can be raw, real, and unconventional.

Burst Apart is full of wonderful little surprises like this, that add up to two big ones: that The Antlers didn't try to follow up Hospice by repeating themselves, and nevertheless, that they have delivered a more than worthy successor.

Grӕ is so rich in content and so vast in musicality it would be impossible to unpack everything in a single review. It is complex yet universal – comforting yet unsettling. It lives in an incorporeal realm of its own, and somehow, Sumney has gained complete and utter command over it.

It's bold, cathartic, and essential; a candidate for not only one of 2012's best, but one of the most important records in all of American soul.

There is the obvious notable contrast between Roberts' blunt delivery and the lushly treated instrumentation. But there's a pillowy negative space between all the divergent aesthetics that creates a resounding heft and felt resonance.

Low prove once again they are the sweet antithesis of that: a band who have had decades to hone their work within their own slow and deliberate pace and environment, making their most vital, forward-thinking music at an age where it can be utmost nurtured.

Whether approached with the utmost skepticism or the most fervent zeal, m b v proves itself not merely a reputable album, but a spectacular and unforgettable experience.

A record that far surpasses the necessity of any and all comparisons. With their highly-anticipated record, this ballistic band birthed from the Brixton Windmill have constructed their own world, where self-abnegation abounds and anxiety festers, yet experimental ingenuity shines a light through all its darkness.

This is a record that begs patience and understanding of its listener, but for those that put in the time required, it offers the most bountiful emotional rewards of Nandi Rose’s career yet. This is an album for being lost, as well as healing. Much like its title, it is what you need it to be.

Excavation is vivid and physical, each moment meticulously and purposefully crafted.

Just be thankful that the new Swans are as clever, as terrifying, and as proficient in their craft as presented on The Seer.

It's a thoughtful and meditative affair with a meaningful and felt collaboration at its core.

A dense, sometimes challenging, but ultimately patience-rewarding listen.

A dimly lit, lo-fi hybrid, Shake takes its cue from some of Harvey's most successful past works, but has its own uniquely brash textures.

All Eternals Deck is as obvious in its quality as Darnielle is obvious in his earnestness.

If any record of this relatively young year demands your full attention then Shaking the Habitual is it, as it opens up as a vast chasm of unexpected possibilities, and despite any possible subconscious misgivings, you’ll immediately want to jump in without thinking twice.

Cavalcade is an experience album, one that lingers long after it’s over. It calls to you from the basement.

Here, Lopatin excels at what he’s been doing since his first release as Oneohtrix Point Never, and what first brought us to him: drawing feeling out of the digital realm, instead of just channeling it.

Though he can be likened to a number of classic singers, some of the all-time greats might I add, his work is his own and ultimately original in its identity.

It’s noteworthy that this latest record is on par with those two [Soundtracks for the Blind and The Seer] in quality, because it marks his largest leap forward in a long time. By imagining a future without himself, Michel Gira has opened up an eternity of possibilities. He’s let the light shine in – and that is deeply moving. He’s found peace.

Ram's 2012 reincarnation sounds impeccable. Though the bonus tracks don't pack much punch, the LP's dozen original cuts, crowned by the breakthrough sensation "Uncle Albert / Admiral Halsey," arguably make this LP McCartney's seminal solo effort.

Her storytelling eye is sharp and her ear is honed to bring the most out of it melodically and instrumentally (with a tipped hat to Jonathan Rado’s excellent production). ... She is a torch bearer for our times.

Antidawn is alive, and it expresses itself in those short bursts of iconic moments that shine something back.

The Rip Tide, though, never bursts at the seams, and never feels too slight. Each number in the collection packs weight, and repeat listenings allow all nine to unfold their unique beauty.

These tracks are sparse but airtight, haunting but unrelentingly gorgeous, both logical successors to the stunning second half of Aerial and completely unlike anything she's done.

It's all dizzying and overwhelming, but the sheer brute strength of The Money Store stays tempered by a pervasive, unbridled sense of creativity.

The results are just about as great as expected. Perhaps more than ever, the rapper paints the world of the faded, the dense and the spacey are a labyrinth for Curren$y's creation.

The resulting album is one that is deceptively simple, a send-up to the aggressive cultural awareness of old-school rap on the surface, filtered through a hundred different post-apocalyptic scenarios, musical and lyrical.

This is why Dye It Blonde is truly a success: the band have moved from the garage noise-rock sound to a much more atmospheric one wherein the noise is harnessed into multiple layers of melodic instrumentation.

With Ritual Union, the band forges their own path and does not take the easy way out.

It is a monumental piece that dextrously straddles his musical epochs; it is an account of history and a document of where he is now.

It is the bravery of the album that is its greatest triumph.

The album is a widening and a deepening of the style we've come to expect of Walker – but it's also got elements of a brightening of that sound as well.

Open Your Heart is incredibly intricate and technically masterful.

There is so much to both genuinely appreciate and enjoy on Swing Lo Magellan that it makes you wonder why these have to sometimes be exclusive ways to experience an album.

I Know What Love Isn't is more than a great pop album – it's the most singularly rewarding statement from one of the more uniquely gifted songwriting voices of the past decade.

If there’s anything Mr. West finds completely alien to his person, it’s restraint, and Yeezus is the perfect, chaotic, and ultimately uncompromising dive into this world.

It may take a few years for SOS to ascend to the heights, but if 808s & Heartbreak was the breakup record of the 2000s and Blonde was the 2010s examination of loss and trauma, then SZA might have produced that emotional breaking point for the 2020s.

Haram feels like the truest representation what they set out to do at the start of their journey as a duo. As a result, it finds them asking the questions everyone is avoiding.

These nine songs will still speak to those willing to listen, speak of the arrogance of those claiming superiority, of the delusion of lovers and anger of those left by the wayside; of the loneliness of the mortally confused, and of the jealousy of those left behind.

It's dark but inspirational, catchy but never kitschy. Most of all though, it's honest.

Bad As Me is yet another sensational landmark on the long, well-traveled path of a man who simply refuses to age.

This is a great pop-rock album because it doesn't feel the need to be anything else.

Loud City Song is a true achievement from Julia Holter. Nary is there a hook on the album, but the richness and vividness that she brings to the songs musically and lyrically will hook you more effectively anyway.

Though it’s hardly labyrinthine--these songs proceed in pretty much a linear fashion–Slow Focus immerses the listener in an aural landscape that offers so much to explore.

By using her clear mind to acknowledge all that has made up who she is, she has put together the puzzle of her past through the lens of today to create something that transcends its personal nature to truly resonate with her widening audience.

One of their boldest statements yet — Cool It Down has everything one would need in a rock record in this day and age, and it’s the most complete version of the band we’ve ever received.

It makes its own statement, and it does so with the level of maturity and succinctness that we've come to expect from Hecker, an artist who has well earned his place as a leader amongst his peers.

With a heavier reliance on piano and this newer emphasis on these samples, it's an astounding achievement in a young career already marked by solid works.

Heaven To A Tortured Mind is the kind of album that challenges listeners sonically and lyrically, and makes absolutely no bones about it. It’s full of forward-thinking musical combinations, but in its themes it’s even more progressive.

The album’s overwhelming atmosphere invites you to pore over the tracks, to take in each detail the light reaches, then comb over them again for everything you’ve missed.

The material here is as strong as we've come to expect from this band, but its pleasures aren't nearly as surface-level as even Kid A's. The best way to judge The King of Limbs in the long run may simply be to hope someone spurs Radiohead on in this direction.

Windswept Adan is a landscape, an aquatic world to be lost within, and one from which you’ll scarcely want to emerge.

Biophilia is Björk, the sum total, and this album is her continued claim to the throne as the monarch of avant-pop.

Yeah, Gang Gang Dance's idea of accessible and pop-ready is just as trippy and emotionally affecting as ever. Now, you can play it in the car on a Friday night, too.

Anxiety matches the emotional heights and immediacy of the music Ashin was inspired by, but what arrives from his limitations--as a singer, as a DIY-ist--adds to the record a personal foundation and raw authenticity no amount of budget could erect.

Filled to the brim with pathos and lived-in melancholy, she has crafted yet another jewel for her ever-expanding crown. It might not be quite as cohesive as songs was, but it benefits from being more varied, and from having some of her most affecting vocal performances.

It's definitely a taxing listen. But it's also one of the most cohesive and powerful records to come around in a long time, and it doesn't tire after multiple spins.

Van Etten gives us what is, quite possibly, her strongest album yet. And that sense of breakthrough, of sheer lift, is prevalent right from the start. ... There’s a powerful sincerity and confidence to her vocals throughout the record, as she weaves and bobs around her deceptively simple and emotive melodies, often hitting notes that sounds for a millisecond like they won’t quite work, and then suddenly, they do, as on the final heavenly note of “Darkness Fades”.

Topical Dancer is a record for literally anyone. It’s a tool as much as it is an escape hatch. Play this album for your grandparents, your parents, your children, your children’s children, and children yet to be born. For it’s a spiritual palette cleanser as much as it is a physical one.

He’s willing to stumble, befuddle, and outright offend – it’s all part of its creator’s flawed self, which is all but stripped starkly naked in front of us. It’s far too complex, far too searching to be wrangled in a simple review. I know this much: we’ll be talking about this one for a long, long time.

the whaler will make you furious; it will make you feel and assuredly interrogate your own heart. That’s emo music, and it is most definitely Home Is Where.

Where Music Has the Right seemed grounded in the real world (albeit a twisted recollection of such) and Geogaddi straddled the line between Star Wars and The Sandlot, Tomorrow’s Harvest finds the duo launching their sound into Lovecraftian orbit. And it sounds terrific.

Whether or not Dabice believes things inside her have changed, it’s undoubted that I Got Heaven is taking Mannequin Pussy to new levels, and things on her exterior are only going to get bigger and brighter.

It's said that Lamar's goal here was to prove himself capable of standing alone. Well, in certainly one of the greatest critical understatements written, he's done it.

Some bits here are the starkest and most direct compositions of the producer’s career to date, and that’s more than saying something. Suffice to say, as corny as it may be to declare, the project is perfectly named, Magic, because it provides just that.

Is she singing lyrics? Hard to say. But these songs are unquestionably emotive, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were actually prayers.

The songs are expensive in their depth of emotion but comforting in their intimacy and alluring appeal.

It's the best album of its kind to come out this year and, perhaps even more significantly, Segall's best work to date.

Bon Iver, Bon Iver settles itself around a more narrative structure, letting the baroque arrangements move from one destination to another.

It’s an album expressing the joys of love – physical, verbal, musical, familial and all the other kinds. While she’s the one in the spotlight throughout the album, this isn’t a record about her – instead she’s honouring all those people who find themselves through the release provided by these communal spaces. And damn, it’s a hell of a good time.

Their identity is hard to peg, and its just this that allows the music to completely possess the forefront, that makes it such an engaging, entertaining, and, perhaps most significantly, fascinating listen.

Duelling forces are wonderfully rendered in the sound palette that Sampha has pulled together here, with production assistance from El Guincho on a number of tracks. The presence of myriad other talents including Yussef Dayes, Yaeji, Laura Groves, black midi’s Morgan Simpson – to name just a few – emphasises the album’s underlying theme of communality.

Celebration Rock is in perpetual motion, driven by a visceral sense of urgency that most modern guitar music is so sorely lacking.

While Skying is not as large a leap forward as Strange House to Primary Colours was, it's still the work of a band firing on all cylinders, and an exceptional offering from a group that, out of nowhere, is quickly becoming one of the most exciting young acts around.

“Movement 9”, at just two and a half minutes, puts a resplendent cap on proceedings, the LSO’s strings tying things off with forlorn grace and pomp. It’s like an echo of what’s come before, the tremors from the encounter between Sanders and Shepherd resonating out into the infinitude. It leaves us in no doubt that we have just witnessed a meeting of monolithic proportions.

Sheer breath of freshness and youth.

It’s one of the most gleeful and replayable debuts of 2013.

An insistent, vital, full frontal assault.

There's a simultaneous show-of-hand that somehow compliments that emotional weight rather than hinders it. It's that weight that gives these compositions durability, and considering how naked Acab leaves his samples, some staggering life. All said, it's really the bottom line here.

There's No Leaving Now is one of the best albums of the year.