At the longitudinal center of Kate Bush’s discography, Hounds of Love can be seen as the dividing line in her discography up to today, and the seconds it takes to flip the record mark a momentum shift in her artistry.

On The Dreaming, Bush established several aspects of her work that were to become watchwords of all her future oeuvre: multi-layered instruments and vocals; allusions to history, culture and literature; polyrhythms and changing time signatures; and employment of spoken-word snippets and other non-traditional “instruments.”

She would have better albums ahead, yet for that moment in time Bush managed to create something that is uniquely her own.

The shortcomings of the album can be attributed to a young artist still testing the span of her talents by attempting new risks.

Despite all the people trying to craft her career for her, Bush created something wholly singular for her debut album.

These final transmissions have their place in DOOM’s discography as exuberant mask-on productions, labors of love combining the influences – musical and otherwise – that forged him.

NehruvianDOOM isn’t going to be anyone’s favorite DOOM project, but it does give us a glimpse of DOOM in elder statesman mode – ushering in a new era of talent, introducing him on a platform built from beats made by one of the greatest to ever do it.

This is the sound of a very interesting middle-aged man, comfortable but still possessing a fire, living the kind of fantasy criminals imagine when they kid themselves they’ll get out of the game.

On what would end up being his final solo studio album, DOOM drops the MF, turns away from the relative brightness of his previous work and descends into a world full of crime, grime, and — well — doom.

MF DOOM sounds energized and alive, and even if he got paid extra to rhyme things with “Harvey Birdman” it’s still a treat hearing his tumble of words eventually wrap up neatly into the name of a cartoon character or a show.