It might also be argued that Hey Clockface is Costello’s attempt to redefine himself as a more mature performer, one cognizant of the fact that he has an aging audience seeking subtlety and sentiment. Indeed, as the title suggests, time is ticking away, ensuring relevance becomes more a priority than rambunctiousness.

Even completists might quibble with the fact that several of these bonus tracks appear to overlap those on the previous edition. The fact that two additional covers are included — a loose cover of “Money,” expanded from the 40th anniversary extra, and an extended read of “Rock Me Baby,” each well in keeping with the blues motif that encompassed the album overall — may be cause for persuasion, although certainly not on their own

Sonically, everything is slightly cleaner than before, with Lennon’s vocals made more prominent in the mix. But the difference will be most noticeable on expensive audio systems. The surround mixes bring a more expansive sound-field making it a reasonable upgrade for those interested. But for the rest of the earbuds-are-good-enough wearing public, this is a perfectly acceptable trawl through the solo Lennon catalog.

Despite a few glaring omissions (no “The Slider”?), most of Bolan’s recognizable work is represented. Willner’s flair was matching artists with unlikely song pairings and having them gel perfectly, such as Lucinda Williams running “Life’s a Gas” through her moody, Southern-swamp personality.

One of his most accessible albums, one that’s still as delightfully, deeply odd as he has always been.

Joni Mitchell is working in a basic acoustic folk idiom here, albeit with some wonderful compositions. While the “buyer beware” warning isn’t needed since the contents are clearly noted in the box’s title, suffice it to say this is geared toward historians, hardcore folkies and/or Mitchell fanatics; basically those willing to fork over nearly $60 to explore her musical back pages.

With Earth to Dora, Everett adds another emotionally edgy chapter to his artistic and spiritual journey that existing fans will appreciate, even if he still does need Novocaine for the soul.

Nothing quite tops those two selections but there is enough strong Bonamassa playing and diverse material (like the lovely, Allman Brothers Band “Midnight Rider” lope of “Savannah” featuring Bonamassa’s rarely heard mandolin work), to make this album a highlight of his bulging, and ever expanding, catalog.

Regardless of its compiler’s obvious intent to generate more cash from Jones’ name, this is a consistently enjoyable listen. It’s a lot of fun and a reminder of the enormous talent taken from us as she was hitting her artistic peak.

Ultimately, the best complement one can pay the band at this point is simply to say that the new album is in fact the perfect primer for newcomers as well as further affirmation for those that have followed them all along. Getting Into Knives makes the point that The Mountain Goats are successfully finding their way to higher heights.

They decided not to overthink it — a great move, as it turns out. In just five days, tracking totally live — which, unbelievably, they’d done only twice previously (on “Darkness on the Edge of Town” and “Born in the U.S.A.”) — the band recorded nine new tunes and three unearthed from before Springsteen had recorded Greetings from Asbury Park, his debut. And yes, some of these songs will take their place alongside his greatest hits.

It’s a sumptuous array to be sure, and one that further expands upon Petty’s lingering legacy.

Nothing approaches rock, or even rock oriented. Rather Melua keeps her expressive, mellifluous voice focused on mood and atmosphere, letting the songs and orchestrations do the heavy lifting.

Despite his decidedly downcast demeanor — imagine John Cale, Nick Cave and Lou Reed crashing one another’s therapy sessions and turning them into one colossal vent — several songs find a spark that manages to illuminate even the darkest designs.

The affecting, rugged, yet at times surprisingly sensitive Private Lives, the act’s most accomplished and immediate release yet.

It remains a great, perhaps the greatest, example of The Replacements’ studio output. Whether you need all the extras, most of which are solid and worth hearing, depends on how attached you are to the contents and band.

The songs are brash, boisterous and flush with an energy level that aptly reflects a seemingly preternatural zeal and enthusiasm.

Combined with The Unraveling, The New OK is a powerful one-two punch to the gut from a band unafraid to lay their political stance out for the world to see. It’s a brave move.

It’s a supple set of songs that’s as engaging as it is agreeable.

Travis is to be commended for keeping the faith and coming up with another batch of quality songs that, if not their best stuff, isn’t far from it. But like the album’s unimaginative title, there’s little that pushes any of the band’s established boundaries into new and fresh sonic areas.

The head-scratching concepts go down easy for music that feels like a comforting warm breeze on a cool spring day.

These days, a classic croons are cool again. Witness the 90-something year old Tony Bennett or the ongoing admiration for Sinatra, Bobby Darin and others that share that seemingly romantic repast. In that regard, This Dream of You offers comforts you can count on.

There isn’t a single song here that doesn’t creep under the skin and remain lodged there for the duration of the encounter. Every one speaks directly to its listeners and resonates with them as well.

If Berninger intended to establish an imprint beyond his day job, he certainly succeeded here. Once Serpentine Prison opens its doors, visitors will likely find it hard to leave.

The Ascension, Stevens’ eighth studio album over all, and the follow-up to his highly lauded outing Carrie & Lowell, diminishes the accessibility factor in favor of a more amorphous imprint, one that finds all manner of effects and an ever-constant shift in sounds that drift through practically every selection.

At nearly 10 hours of music, the “super deluxe” bundle is too much for any but the most committed. But the edited editions include some of the best stuff, leaving the rest for the Prince faithful. And if anyone was unsure of just how talented, creative and prolific Prince was at his inspired peak, this fully loaded box solidifies his legacy as a true American icon.

Given Surfer Blood’s appreciation for the qualities of surf rock and pop, a conventional approach toward melody and harmony recurring in many of Carefree Theatre’s tracks is understandable. Nonetheless, it isn’t a detriment to the album’s collective listening appeal.

Simmons makes little attempt to vary her template. Eventually, despite the pleasant pastiche, the music all starts to sound the same. Absent any real shift in tone or tempo, the overall impact tends to be somewhat muted.