After the modicum of success he'd experienced with his debut, Song of Innocence, set to William Blake's epic suite of poems, composer, arranger, and producer David Axelrod turned to the British poet's Songs of Experience for inspiration in creating his follow-up album. Using eight of Blake's poems, Axelrod composed a suite that was less rock in its aim and more pop- and jazz-oriented in places, but overall a more orchestral work. Texturizing a symphony with percussive elements and the use of British and Irish folk song, as well as the stylistic inventions of fellow arranger Gerald Wilson for effect, Axelrod created a sobering, and, in places, even melancholy collage of song and lyrical styles that slid rather than drove home its point: that experience is a good but bittersweet teacher. Axelrod's compositions are positively literary here, lush and varied, using as much space as they do sound for dramatic and dynamic effect. His complex use of the various colors the horn section was capable of producing allowed him to create new palettes for the rock instrumentation. The centerpiece of the album is "The Human Abstract," a gently swinging, funky, bass-driven work that juxtaposes a strummed electric guitar playing augmented sevenths against an acoustic piano and a muted drone of horns. By the time the guitar enters for its solo, the strings have erected a space out of the ether for themselves to further shore up the orchestra's time-honored body against the wail of unrepentant youth. The tension in the tune is dramatic, colorful, and hued with as much red and yellow as there is blue and black. When the French horns and tuba state their case against the high-flying impetuousness of the restless spirit, a piano bridges the gap, whispering the melody's main theme in the center channel, whispering them both out into silence. Other notables are the positively majestic "The Divine Image," and the pastoral sadness in "A Little Girl Lost." Axelrod's meditations were getting darker with the times in 1969, but they hadn't yet reached the horrific potential for darkness that they would on 1971's Earth Rot. In 1969, Axelrod was still a musical contemplative searching for a sound that best exemplified not only his feelings but also the heady text he sought to sonically illustrate. He succeeded in spades.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Britain's G.B.H. exemplified what happened after the promise of 1977 punk and post-punk petered out: faster, fuzzier tempos that incorporated lightning-fast guitar licks and a greater volume to put the point across. The mingling of Marshall stacks and "screw you" attitudes has often made for an uneasy marriage -- as the endless debates in fanzines like Maximumocknroll show -- but it's undeniably potent when wielded in the right hands. G.B.H.'s rude and crude debut showed the band to be some distance from that goal, which hardly bothered the listeners who propelled it to number 17 on the U.K. charts in 1982. The band tackles its material with admirably single-minded zeal: Most tracks make their point in two minutes or less. Urban ills are the dominant inspiration for the oft-anthologized "Sick Boy" and "Time Bomb," while "No Survivors" reflects Cold War-era fears of nuclear confrontation. The band's inspiration owes as much to films like A Clockwork Orange as its '80s inner-city environment. A garishly violent streak runs through tracks like "Gunned Down," "Passenger on the Menu," and "The Prayer of a Realist" -- while the equally mindless "Slut" and "Big Women" take aim at women who criticize the band. Many of G.B.H.'s subsequent outings have been dedicated to refining this template, with greater or lesser forays into metal. All this relentless velocity can be considered bracing, or numbing; if you can look past the minimal chord changes and repetitive structures, it's pretty impressive stuff. That's the hallmark of an acquired taste, so proceed accordingly. [Captain Oi's reissue adds half a dozen alternate takes, as well as the single version of "Sick Boy."]© Ralph Heibutzki /TiVo

After disappearing from American radar screens for several years -- even as Armand Van Helden's trend-setting remix of "Spin Spin Sugar" remained very durable in clubs -- Sneaker Pimps became a radically different group with their third album. Less experimental, less distinctive, and definitely missing the production finesse of Nellee Hooper, Bloodsport suffers musically from a lack of imagination and vocally from Chris Corner's surprisingly post-grunge style of delivery. From the sub-Depeche Mode industrial pop of the opener "Kiro TV" to the bland "Nightclubbing" sound-alike "Small Town Witch," Sneaker Pimps hardly sound like the same band that made indie pop sound hip again back in 1996.© John Bush /TiVo

Hardcore punks Sick of It All return with their 12th album, Wake the Sleeping Dragon! The album is their first full-length since 2014's The Last Act of Defiance, and they once again worked with Jerry Farley (Lamb of God, Demon Hunter), who produced the record. The band also enlisted the help of Hot Water Music's Chuck Ragan and Rise Against's Tim McIlrath, who make guest appearances.© Bekki Bemrose /TiVo

Following the success of their chart-topping 2017 debut album, electronic duo the Chainsmokers veered in a more contemplative direction for their follow-up EP Sick Boy. Striking an introspective tone on tracks like "Everybody Hates Me" and the title track, Alex Pall and Andrew Taggart leave the drop-loving bombast behind in favor of an alternative pop sound similar to Twenty One Pilots. The four-song set debuted just outside the Top 50 of the Billboard 200.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo