An album that meets the breach with enough wrenching, life-and-death drama to leave you completely spent by the time its hour is up, then ready to immediately reinvest. Because, besides being that exhausting, it’s also that good.

Highlighting her numerous talents, which include being a gifted poet, a formidable musician and an astute empath, Barnett’s new record is a testament to the value of taking things slowly and another high-water mark in a career seemingly destined for many more.

A collection of [new-to-us] songs that doesn’t have a real dud in the bunch.

With “Crawler,” they’re breaking breaking rank, changing up their style without redefining it — what might come next is wide open.

Wisely, at just a half hour in length, the album doesn’t outstay its welcome, and although not every song is great, the vibe carries through from end to end — and once it’s over there’s no way you’re not playing it again.

The essence remains: delectable melodies, soaring arrangements, sweeping crescendos, dramatic pauses, regal countermelodies, Andersson’s gorgeous piano playing and most significantly, Agnetha and Frida’s singing — the stunning sweet-sour blend that is the single most defining trait of ABBA’s sound. ... Four decades on, ABBA are more ABBA-esque than ever.

If Sheeran’s previous albums evoked a genuine emotional response, you’re in for a treat. If not, this isn’t going to change your mind. The songsmith unashamedly sticks to his winning formula on album four.

John’s open-hearted vocals and sincerity make “The Lockdown Sessions” a charming listen.

“Blue Banisters” might lack the majesty of “Norman Fucking Rockwell” or the commercial sheen of “Born To Die,” but it offers a rare glimpse of an artist securing her legacy, one song at a time.

The space opera is an uneven mix of synth-drenched power-pop, cosmic interludes (the band goes as far as inventing alien languages) and surprisingly affecting collaborations. It’s the emotional heft of the latter that pumps the brakes as Coldplay approaches that metaphorical Great White, making the band’s ninth album a minor — but not entirely regrettable — addition to an otherwise stellar discography.

A refreshingly concise distillation of the best outtakes from the weeks of sessions, which were essentially rehearsals. ... Even half a century later, the group’s sterling quality control remains, and if this lavish, multi-part treatment of the Beatles’ swan song is truly the last dance, they’ve made the most of it. ... [Paraphrasing] Paul McCartney’s response to criticism of the “White Album” in the 1990s “Beatles Anthology” series: “It was great, it sold, it’s the bloody Beatles — shut up!”

“Friends That Break Your Heart” is Blake’s best and most refined album to date, one that finds him further down the several paths he’s somehow simultaneously following: more conventional and more disruptive, prettier and more disturbing, all at the same time.

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.

Carlile effortlessly glides between octaves while, somehow, still sounding completely conversational — the everyday diva we didn’t know we needed until she showed up at the door. Fans of the singer-songwriter sensibilities of the 1970s will especially find a lot to love in the rich variety of material in “In These Silent Days,” which, under the expert co-production of Dave Cobb and Shooter Jennings, certainly sounds analog-era, however it was recorded.

It’s a record that, on one hand, credibly posits Guyton as America’s next country-pop crossover superstar and, on the other, is unflinching about addressing the obstacles that may well still stand in the way of that happening.

She brings a different style and approach to nearly every song, veering from brassy wail to folky prim (“October Sky”), from Adele-sized power (“Love Came Down”) to breathy sultriness (“Distance”). ... Anyone with functioning ears can hear this album and know what an exceptional talent is at work.

Valuable as it is to be getting near-soundalike versions of so many of these tracks that strip away the ‘80s gloss, that’s only the smaller part of why “Springtime in New York” is a treasure trove.

At its best when he gives us a glimpse of the man behind the memes. ... For an artist that has conquered the rap world, Nas proves to be surprisingly adept at pop.

It’s also arguably his most energetic solo album. ... It works equally well as lean-forward or lean-back music — the listener can focus on it or simply have it on as atmosphere that enhancing the environment without distracting from it.

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.

It’s an album where she can be not so much “happy and sad at the same time” as heartsick, defiant, nostalgic, self-doubting, sassy, rueful and flatlining in the same divorce-court feedback loop. ... And one of the best things about “Star-Crossed” is its boldly weird but highly satisfying finale.

“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.

On a purely musical level, “Donda” is close to unassailable; any time spent tarrying on its release has been time well-wasted. It’d be hard to contend that an album that lasts nearly two hours exactly flies by, but until it gets to those last four completely superfluous remixes, it’s a collection that never comes close to wearing out its welcome, alternating the brooding and the banging with a well-honed sense of dynamics.

The group’s fourth full-length is a timely mediation on loneliness and fear, thankfully shot through with a hefty dose of the synth-fueled wizardry that’s come to define the best of what the Scottish trio has to offer.

It’s just about everything you’d hope that a collab between Halsey and Reznor/Ross would be… except long enough.

[Lead vocalist George Clarke has] changed up his style so dramatically for the band’s fifth studio album that it actually sounds like they have a different singer. While “Infinite Granite” is unmistakably Deafheaven and continues their progression as one of the most innovative and powerful rock acts of the past 20 years, it’s a big change. ... A year into their second decade, Deafheaven have launched an entirely new chapter — they can go absolutely anywhere from here.

Does the drastic gear shift work? It does, although there’s no avoiding that it may divide a previous fan base that looked at her widow’s peak and imagined they saw a dagger. ... But small things like this are quibbles in the face of how well Lorde has pulled off one of the more difficult stunts in pop music: making a happy album that’s a good album.

Needless to say, this gorgeous cacophony sounds more amazing than ever in this revamped sonic edition. ... There are 47 demos and outtakes, most of them previously unreleased — none is a Holy Grail, but several are fascinating. Most interesting are the demos. ... Some may argue, not without reason, that McCartney’s “Band on the Run” or Lennon’s “Plastic Ono Band” or “Imagine” is actually the best Beatles solo album, but this lovingly rendered 50th anniversary edition makes the case for “All Things Must Pass” in vivid detail.