Each Sunday, Pitchfork takes an in-depth look at a significant album from the past, and any record not in our archives is eligible. Today, we revisit the Swedish metal band’s desolate foray into melodic songwriting, the moment when their unabashed prog worship led to a haunted emotional breakthrough.

The tempos are brisk and the energy is high on a new compilation from Four Tet’s unpronounceable glyph project that includes some of Kieran Hebden’s most fully realized productions under any name.

Working once again with Aaron Dessner, the songwriter sticks to her signature blend of bulletproof pop and melancholic indie folk, but the few risks she takes result in her best songs yet.

On his glitzy and paranoid new record, the rapper wrestles with survivor’s guilt while making a case for East Coast boom-bap’s perpetual adaptability.