Superchunk have always strengthened their reputation with music that ranks with the most powerful and important ever made, able to move, inspire, and impress no matter the sound or subject. This collection reinforces that notion, and proves that in their second act, the band remain at the very top of their game.

Metric have always been the kind of band to take big emotions and make them sound stadium-sized. On these two albums, they take stadium-sized emotions and make them painfully real and bleedingly human.

Production-wise, the beats are as on point as ever, typically favoring funky boom-bap with touches of psych-rock guitar, and occasionally drifting close to trip-hop melancholy ("Living Curfew," "Bermuda"). As ever, though, the main attraction is Aesop's compelling wordplay, and his ability to keep the listener's attention while veering into different lyrical and conceptual directions.

Though Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert doesn't -- and couldn't -- have the same revelatory feel of Dylan's original concert, Marshall's wise, loving performances strengthen her reputation as one of her generation's most gifted interpreters.

Even as PinkPantheress explores her deepest, darkest emotions, her songs are vibrant, hook-filled, and wildly inventive, making Heaven Knows just as worthy of repeated listens as To Hell with It, and confirming her status as a pop visionary.

Once again working with co-producer Dave Cobb, Stapleton also has his wife Morgane behind the boards in addition to singing harmony and playing keyboards, a tight, familial group of collaborators that gives Higher a relaxed, familiar feel that keeps things buoyant even in its darkest moments.

Cohesion and comprehension are left on the cutting room floor of I<3UQTINVU, but these untamed reimaginings of the songs extend the album's fun and curiosity.

The lyrics are wryly humorous, the music gritty and steamy. There isn't a dull moment here. Get it.

Goodnight Summerland is a lovely, occasionally profound album with little if anything apart from the intro that could be fairly called filler, and that would be splitting hairs.

It's definitely music for dourer days, although there's also an alluring elegance in play that can make it feel more mysterious than dispiriting. Like a lot of compellingly constructed minimalist music, Acts of Light benefits from repeat listens.

At times, Return to Archive rivals Ultimate Care II when it comes to the more challenging, cerebral side of Matmos' music, but its fascinating reflections on how we build on and reframe the past make for a hip, thoughtful celebration of Smithsonian Folkways' forward-thinking legacy.

Its deconstructions and creative alterations of underground club music forms, combined with crystalline ambient compositions -- all pieced together like a Rammellzee panoply -- cause more sensations of wonderment, comfort, and unease.

And Then You Pray for Me is a 75-minute feast, uneven and sometimes overly familiar if still satisfying.

Zig ends up being her most focused and mature work to date, one that finds her spreading her wings and expanding her arsenal yet again.

Woven throughout the record is Anderson's rugged, keening voice (its own special instrument) and sense of adventure. Perhaps it's not King Creosote's most cohesive effort, but it's an appropriately ambitious celebration of his first 25 years.

The whole album has that kind of off-kilter appeal and even when the singers break things down lyrically to the elemental level of survival in a world seemingly on the brink of collapse, this is music meant to transport the listener. Consider it a job well done and enough of an artistic success that one hopes the trio makes this one time gathering of like-minded souls a more regular occurrence.

A darker, deconstructed companion to Tracey Denim, The Twits reflects bar italia's growth into an increasingly singular, expressive band.

Hard Light is far from Delaware's rollercoaster ride, but its update of that album's spirit should please the fans Drop Nineteens made in the decades since their debut.

The charm of Danse Macabre lies in how Duran Duran seem unencumbered by expectations: they're lying back and having a good time, resulting in a record that captures their silly and serious sides in equal measure.

There's a marked feeling of newfound ease that flows through The Comeback Kid. The always unstable elements that make up Stern's sound are still potent and volatile, but gone is any dread or confusion that may have pushed her music forward in the past, replaced by a sense of triumph and euphoric self-acceptance.

Fleshed out by these extra tracks, 1989 [Taylor's Version] confirms the lasting strength that Swift's songwriting was achieving in this one of many blooms, and serves as a lovely reminder of when she officially stepped into her place in the pop culture continuum.

The Great Escape shows that Chris Stamey still has a faultless touch as a songwriter, vocalist, producer, and arranger, and it gently but confidently sees him adding new colors to his palette and using them well.

"Blurring" is an inventive trip-hop diversion, with booming illbient bass, slowly crushing breaks, and a downright lovely vocal hook. It ends up leaving a much bigger impression than most of the other tracks on the album, even if it isn't exactly the type of earworm one might expect from the artist's description of his intentions for the project.

Something to Give Each Other succeeds because Sivan has been freed: to be who he wants to be and express that through his most engaging and addictive album to date.

Its seven tracks are rhythmically labyrinthine, unhurried in tempo, with clamping drums and cosmic synthesizers that burble, prance, and sometimes create a sense of menace.

Ultimately, it's the singles that keep Angel Face interesting, an ironic twist, given that the period he fetishizes most certainly favored singles over LPs. So, in a sense, he has hit his mark squarely.

Selvutsletter is some of the duo's most expressive and widest-ranging work -- and given how committed Volden and Hval are to experimentation, that's saying something.

Joni Mitchell's powers as a songwriter and creative spirit are unparalleled at every step of her journey, but her output in the '70s was on a higher plane, even for her. Archives, Vol. 3 reflects this with behind-the-scenes material just as storied and worthy as the music that Mitchell was making during one of her finest hours.