Collectively, they reflect the life’s work of a tight, hardworking/hard traveling act that plays by its own rules. And, judging from the almost three and a half hours of music here, one that continues to improve with age.

Not everything on Final Farewell hits the mark – notably the partly spoken word We Are Here, a commentary on the impact of social media, which feels both glib and uncharacteristically unsubtle – and at just 31 minutes, it certainly doesn’t overstay its welcome. Overall though, this is a rich, warm, sometimes quite moving record which proves Peggy Seeger’s (and Dylan Thomas’s) point that old age does not have to mean going gently into that good night.

Crowell’s brutally honest musings on his life and loves is a case-study that makes the reflective Close Ties a poignant and emotionally affecting portrait of one of American music’s most captivating, talented and honest artists.

For how uncharacteristic it might seem for a band whose greatest gift, all along, was nuance, this louder take suits the band brilliantly.

While the set of songs on this album may not count among the best of McCartney's career, they definitely provide a pleasurable listen for both casual fans and ardent supporters alike.

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.

Unlike Bruce Springsteen’s similarly rootsy and far peppier tribute to Pete Seeger, this fine ballad heavy collection probably won’t attract the attention its compilers are hoping for and garner the posthumous stateside appreciation MacColl deserves.

Nothing is rushed. Listeners should prepare to hunker down for 45 minutes to absorb the hypnotic and often mesmerizing U Kin B the Sun in a single, uninterrupted sitting where it hits the hardest.

John has always had that deep gruff rasp, but backed by raw swamp boogie with lots of baritone sax, creepy female backing vocals and treated keyboards, he's sounding as dangerous and spooky as when laying down the gris-gris on "I Walk on Gilded Splinters" back in 1968.

It’s not just a rousing bookend to a remarkable, late-starting career, but a terrific and moving soul explosion that stands as one of the finest in her limited yet extraordinary catalog.

Those new to, or unfamiliar with, Bowie’s expansive catalog would do well to start here and older followers who have lost the plot, especially over the past ten years, can catch up to one of the most consistently challenging artists of the past five decades.

A few highlights such as the soaring, dramatic title track are spread over an expansive 70 minute playing time. But there isn’t much you’ll revel in as timeless art criminally neglected to the dustbins of R&B obscurity.

Neither easy listening or abrasive, Simple Songs is the sound of O’Rourke spraying his idiosyncratic fairy dust over a genre he clearly appreciates, albeit through the lenses of his own somewhat eccentric vision. Once you get into his groove though, it’s easy to appreciate the artist’s tenacity and often volatile vision.

Those who dismiss his vocals as monotone are missing out on the soulful power he brings to “Did I Ever Love You” or the sly humor he ladles on “Slow.”

As diverse as ever, this is the kind of comeback every once-defunct act strives for but few deliver with the consistency and sheer enthusiasm exhibited here.

A brilliant record that serves as a perfect blueprint on how to make something new out of something old.

It’s difficult to see where Dry Cleaning goes after the defiant line in the sand drawn here. But for those willing to follow them, and especially frontwoman Shaw, it’s likely they will blaze an idiosyncratic path in the music sphere, similar to what they have accomplished on this rather remarkable, often powerful, and always challenging, debut.

While eight have appeared in different versions spooned out on releases ranging from 1976’s American Stars And Bars, Rust Never Sleeps from 1979 (three tracks), Decade (the Nixon diatribe “Campaigner”) and one even as late as 2010’s Le Noise, there is an intimacy and rawness to these performances that is riveting and subtly powerful.

The Odessa Tapes shows this was from the start a talented band, one with a clear vision of itself, that was going to Nashville with pride in its performing abilities and material.

It’s another classy notch in LaVere’s slowly growing catalog belt and shows her boundary pushing, restless artistry results in music that’s heartfelt, reflective, challenging and consistently compelling.

His obvious joy and dedication to this classic approach is contagious and the secret sauce that makes Hunter’s seventh release arguably his finest.

Living in a Burning House‘s 13 songs pay tribute to his influences without sounding like any of them.

This album is just more evidence that few have ever been as fluent in that tongue as Paul Simon.

With Way Down in the Rust Bucket, Young affirms a vision and vitality that showcases him at his best, the lesser contenders be damned.

Mermaid Avenue project is essential for showing that Woody Guthrie could illuminate what was going on inside of him as well as he could detail the plight of his fellow man.

According to Paul Simon, his new album So Beautiful Or So What is the best work he has done in decades. That's a bold proclamation. Even more startling: it's not hyperbole.

These acoustic performances are laid back but sizzle with the soul of the blues.

For most veteran bands, the beast is complacency. The National slays it here and stays on top of the rock world in the process.