To their credit, they aren’t phoning in all the song choices. ... They also score points for being among the first, if not the first, to determine that Danny Elfman’s slightly sinister “Making Christmas,” from “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” bears consideration for the Xmas canon. ... Now, the docked points: Even guest Kelly Clarkson can’t redeem the eternally schmaltzy “Grown-Up Christmas List.” And “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” is the 11 billionth version of Brenda Lee’s classic to not rock.

Girl is every bit as much a country album as her 2016 debut, “Hero.”

Although it might take the average Zayn fan more than few listens to connect with the LP as a whole, the boldness of the material’s experimentation is worth putting in the effort.

Bathed in brighter production values and upped tempos than on his usual amniotic-bath tones, the expanse of “Legend” allows the vocalist to do something he rarely does: play around and have a laugh.

The vast majority of tracks come in under three minutes, yet it’d be wrong to give credit to Baby for not overstaying his welcome on these songs when the record, aside from a predictable variation of keys or strings that introduce each new track, practically blurs into one indistinguishable song.

For a package so long and with so many diverse artists, anyway, there aren’t many missteps on this “Blacklist.” It could have been a mess; instead, taking their cues from Metallica, the curators and cover artists of “The Metallica Blacklist” have worked like alchemists to turn base metal into spun gold.

The album’s overall production by his longtime main man 6ix sparkles like never before, and lends itself to the loosely thread, sharply needled conceptual-ism handsomely.

Without overstating the point, the innovation that’s happening in today’s rock music is not coming from traditional rock bands — it’s coming from innovative artists that are fusing it with other sounds, ranging from Soundcloud rappers to electronic-inspired outfits like Guerilla Toss to post-metal acts like Deafheaven. In that context, it’s perhaps no surprise that fresh rock sounds are coming from a nominee for 2018’s Best Dance Album Grammy.

One of the strong points of “Subtract” is how little sugar-coating Sheeran tries to put on his rough 2022, even as he provides a few leavening songs, like “Colourblind,” that speak more generally to his love for his wife, and not just the prospect of her loss. Otherwise, it’s “Life Goes On,” as a seventh-stage-of-grief song title, and “Right now I feel I’m running from the light,” as an overriding sentiment.

While “Wonder” is at times overambitious and overwrought, it does feel like the last stop on a particular journey. Mendes can’t sound much bigger than this without going full Adele, so what might come next is wide open.

The album gets off to an inauspicious start with “Black Magic,” a dreary murder ballad with the requisite Skylar Grey hook and the same tired splatter-movie shock lines. Things perk up with “Alfred’s Theme,” which nods to the album’s Hitchcockian premise by sampling “Funeral March of a Marionette” and making a painfully predictable play on the name “Hitchcock,” and from there on out, the record seesaws between rapid-fire dirty puns and show-offy rhyme displays.

For the most part, Metro makes more of the duo’s first volume than Future does. Then again, there are stunningly soulful and richly melodic tracks such as “Running Outta Time” (co-produced with Zaytoven and Chris XZ) where the rapper sounds clear as a bell, passionate and hungry, with the backing of simple hammering piano and a slow, grinding organ.

The entire work – from its coming-of-age trap music single, “Blue Notes 2,” with fellow ATV enthusiast Lil Uzi Vert. to the short, sharp last-minute addition “Flamerz Flow” – feels like an actual album, all the way to its mod-Cubist cover art, crafted from an original work by Afrocentric painter Nina Chanel Abney.

While his talent for head-spinning flow and cutting barbs is still very much in effect, the album is a passable but ultimately forgettable meandering through popular hip-hop sounds of today.

“The Battle at Garden’s Gate” achieves the rare feat of being absolutely hilarious and also one of the best straight-up rock albums to come down the pike in many moons — and anyone who thinks it can’t be both just isn’t in on the joke.

Not the outright disaster that some might have feared, but far from the return to form that might have helped heal his battered reputation, Ye sees the onetime innovator stuck in a holding pattern, too far gone to notice just how much the landscape has shifted beneath him.

The group has scaled down a bit (how much bigger could they get?) writing, rhapsodizing and crooning about lighter topics than usual. Similarly, the group--along with co-producers Rich Costey (Interpol), Mike Elizondo (Eminem, Fiona Apple) and Timbaland (Jay-Z, Missy Elliott)--has also changed up its sound with a mix of electro-punkish riffs and sprightly beats filtered into its densely layered orchestration. ... Refocusing their ambitions in a way that won’t alienate fans but also keeps them anticipating whatever might come next.

There are no blockbuster hit singles like “I Can’t Feel My Face” or “Starboy,” but the melodic directness and Michael Jackson vocalisms of those songs is here, just buried under clouds of sad synthesizers and downcast beats. ... It’s a credit to this prolific and ever-evolving artist that he manages to be creatively restless and never stay in the same place for long while always sounding unmistakably like himself.

“Nobody Is Listening” is concise and to the point, breezing through 11 songs in 35 minutes. While each of his albums has been a reboot, this one is the most dramatic of all — and clears the table for whatever might be coming next.

If there is any problem with “Translation” — and there isn’t too much, as it is the best overall BEP work since 2003’s “Elephunk” — it’s that, too often, it goes for the big bang, rather than the subtle nudge. ... That said, BEP have found a new sense of adventure, inventiveness and contagion through the modern Latin music prism. They’re almost completely there toward making it totally their own.

Kamikaze may not be flawless, but it comes closer than he has in years.

Throw in a long but smartly assembled selection of A-list producer/co-writers that includes Andrew Watt, Skrillex, the Monsterz & Strangers, Louis Bell, Benny Blanco, Finneas and too many more to mention, and it adds up to a Bieber who is actually making smart choices pretty much all around, all of a sudden, sounding like the antithesis of what he admits he once was: “Unstable.” This is a honeymoon that could last.

Though not without its missteps, “Her Loss” leaves the unshakable impression that Drake, in 2022, is doing what inspires him rather than pandering. One year removed from “Certified Lover Boy,” that represents a surprising and encouraging evolution.

The inventive melodies are consistently present and strengthened even more by his knack for hooks, like “Ring Ring,” a bona fide hit for the genre. But Juice begins to run out his welcome at this point, about two-thirds of the way into 21 full-length songs and one interlude. It can be hard to justify that long an album for most artists, and Juice, while bold in his efforts, doesn’t prove to be compelling enough to keep you engaged, especially with only three features (Brent Faiyaz, Young Thug and Clever appear).

His voice has never sounded more on-point, and the surrounding opulent sonics have never allowed it such freedom. The album’s true possibilities, meanwhile, are lost in space.

“Certified Lover Boy” is a perfectly fine record — it’s expensively well-produced, like all of Drake’s albums, and easily likable with a decent batting average for a nearly hour-and-a-half record.

What’s remarkable is how smoothly they work together, and how much genuine pleasure the three seem to take in this collaboration.

Sometimes the stars who are brought in sound like they’re about to get lost in Glimmer Twins glossolalia, but sometimes it sounds like they just stopped by for some Stones karaoke. ... Highlights abound, though, especially when you get singers with a strong Southern soul leaning to their voice, filling in some of the melodic licks that Jagger always kind of slurred his way through. ... You exit “Stone Cold Country” wanting to hear [Marcus] King cut a whole album of Stones covers.