Packaged in a (heavy) metal casket, Eddie's Archives collects 20 years of live material and B-sides from a band best known among laypeople for its creepy album artwork. With lavish use of pewter, this set screams: "Just because I've cut my hair and swapped the denim jacket patches for the leather interior of a Lexus doesn't mean I can't still rock out with Maiden (as soon as I drop off the kids at practice)." Further evidence of Maiden's maturing fanbase is the inclusion of a crystal Eddie shot glass (this from the band that filmed designated driver public service announcements?) and a parchment scroll chronicling the band's lineage. Regardless of how one views their music, Maiden does right by their fans. Edward the Great is a greatest hits disc featuring new artwork that the band has made available for free download (www.ironmaiden.com) with the statement "we would not want [the fans] to feel obliged in any way to buy a series of tracks they already have in their collection just to get the packaging." Classy. Please pay attention and take notes, Ms. Love. Jesse Delaney

Fanny

If David Bowie says, "They wrote everything, they played like motherfuckers, they were just colossal and wonderful," they must be better than OK. For anyone grrl-powered or Sugartowned, Fanny -- '70s Sacramento-sisters/girl-band veterans Jean and June Millington's pre-Runaways all-girl ensemble -- is de rigueur listening. While Rhino's thick booklet tells a Fanny-packed story of tribulation and trashiness, the CDs roar with thick chords, muscle-y keyboards (courtesy of the legendary Nickey Barclay) and an intense, dense, intricate musicality that mixed Beatles-esque shimmer and angel-whore vocals with soulful force. The funky-rocking firestarters rifled off four LPs at a time when major-label ladies were usually wispier. You get the tender Fanny ("Come and Hold Me"), the vigilante Fanny ("Conversation With a Cop"), the reflective Fanny ("I Find Myself") and the funky Fanny ("Queen Aretha") along with a bundle of covers, rarities, live stuff and impromptu sessions from the first all-playing/all-writing ladies who mattered. A.D. Amorosi

Jellyfish

In terms of breakups, only the Beatles parting ways meant more to pop music than Jellyfish's 1994 demise. But before making solo-slices of dicey hummable harmony (like guitarist Jason Falkner's acclaimed CDs) and oddpop electronics (with Roger Manning, Imperial Drag, Moog Cookbook), Jellyfish were smart pop's last hope, comprising Queen-like musicianship, 10 cc's arcane romanticism and Raspberries' dewiness in their grasp. Fan Club takes a members-only archival-tape peek and live look at Jellyfish's two too-unsung EMI CDs, Spilt Milk and Bellybutton, unravelling their coiled complexity without losing a smidge of the unit's silly sinew. In fact, rather than portray mere skeletons of opulent tracks like "The Man I Used To Be," the sarcastic "The King Is Half-Undressed" and the record biz love/hate letters of "Joining A Fan Club" and "The Ghost At Number One," the box's basement tapes (and several WXPN World Café in-studio treats) detail each tune's muscle and nerve. Elegant covers of "Eleanor Rigby" and "S.O.S." help bring you inside Jellyfish's extravagant, buttoned-down world. A.D. Amorosi

Charlie Parker

Charlie Parker, bop's alto-sax avatar, has had more labels than canned peaches. But his time with Dial/Savoy has been, for aficionados and critics, his shining hour, where the madness, genius and joviality of his jazz spirit took flight. This is the first set to offer all his Dial and Savoy "master takes" in one hearty helping, and it's about time. Parker, no matter how high, was a hungry thinker and player, voraciously swallowing his collaborators' improvisational prowess as they -- guitarist Tiny Gromes, trumpet gods Miles and Diz, drummer Max Roach -- lay bare before the axe-master. Bird's epistemological blues of "Cheryl," the elegiac melodic dirge "Parker's Mood" and swingers like "KoKo" and "Donna Lee" are the scarred center of the Savoy sides. Meanwhile, Dial's dramas come cool and hard with hothouse flowers like "Yardbird Suite," "The Hymn" and "Crazeology" blooming like crazy, night and day. Embrace this set. A.D. Amorosi

Trojan

Rough & Tough: The Story of Ska 1960-1966 (2 CDs), History of Trojan Records 1968-1971 (2 CDs), History of Trojan Records 1972-1995 (2 CDs), Trojan D.J. (3 CDs), Trojan Instrumentals (3 CDs), Trojan Producer Series (3 CDs), Trojan Rare Groove (3 CDs), Trojan Lovers (3 CDs), Trojan/Sanctuary

Across 21 CDs -- and those are just the ones I have -- the holy grail of Jamaican music unfurls. An impossibility to detail in 150,000 words, allow me to point out highlights as crucial as Matthew and Corinthians: Lee "Scratch" Perry's teeming instrumental teaming with saxophonist Val Bennett for the Upsetters' "Dollar in the Teeth" (1968); cool Ken Boothe's vocal rendition of "Artibella" (1970); dancehall singing giant Johnny Clarke's crusty tenor on "None Shall Escape the Judgement" (1974); "Better Must Come" (1971) from Delroy Wilson -- a plea for Jamaica's underclass; the oddest Bob Marley tune ever in "Mr. Brown" (1970); Desmond Dekker's decidedly dark skanky ska "007 (Shanty Town)" (1966); the footie king, Harry J's eternal classic "Liquidator" (1969). From the rubbed-raw dub of Augustus Pablo and Drumbago & the Dynamites to Gregory Isaacs, Slim Smith, Niney, Theo Beckford and Marcia Griffiths -- this package should soothe your roots/reggae/ska/dub/rock/dancehall jones. A.D. Amorosi

Dizzy Gillespie

The words "early bebop" and "Dizzy Gillespie" are for bop freaks what "autopsy" means to a CSI viewer. Salivation. This three-CD collection forms the genesis of Gillespie's tendinous art form, the period immediately following his departure from crooner Billy Eckstine's ensemble, driving Diz from small unit groups to big bands -- from mere trumpeter to innovative phrasemaker and renowned composer, finding new timings and intervals to play through. With the likes of vibist Milt Jackson, bassist Ray Brown, alto man Charlie Parker and Stan Levy on drums, Gillespie made bop be, then stretched its limits further to the big-band esprit of the early '50s. From Cali cool to complex cross-rhythmic workouts, this Diz is the thing of history. A.D. Amorosi

Grand Funk Railroad

An unlikely revival starts here as Mel, Mark and Don finally get their due (no critic liked them back in the '70s!) as one of melodic raw rock's finest outfits -- the missing link between The Amboy Dukes and Mother Love Bone. This was workingman rock before Springsteen made it literate. That doesn't mean gutsy singer Mark Farner wasn't earnest. Far from it. He and his muscle-fuzz guitar matched his persona to a T. Though fans of familiar fare like "We're an American Band" and E Pluribus Funk will have to wait till Capitol's overall reissue program's in full effect (there's enough room in the cardboard Trunk to fit all their CDs), GFR initiates will dig the boogie rock of Farner -- most headily on "High on a Horse" and "Call Yourself a Man" -- as he bashes and rolls against Mel Schacher's plop-fizz-burp bass lines and Don Brewer's messy drumming. By the time you get to "High Falootin' Woman" and "Mr. Limousine Driver," you'll have their caucasoid funky friction down cold. The box itself is a little cheesy. But then again, so was GFR. Shine on. A.D. Amorosi

Various Artists

Generally speaking, the problem with punk is that it's full of punks. As much as the musical "movement" was supposed to be a rejection of the jock-jerk mentality, it certainly ended up with its share of jock-jerks. Part of what made (and makes) Washington, D.C.'s Dischord so engaging and important is its eschewing of testosterone in favor of straight-up adrenaline (which is not to say its music wasn't made mostly by young, white men). Punk may not exactly mean cuddle to the bands, but it didn't mean asshole either, and that's about as close to freedom and justice for all you could hope for. The first two discs comprise a sampler from Dischord's seemingly inexhaustible catalog of fuzzed-out non-pop non-hits from bands who loved making music, even if they weren't always very good at it. The third is the draw of the box set: rarities and unreleased stuff from the (slightly) more tuneful, engaging Dischord bands, like Fugazi, Teen Idles, Minor Threat and Shudder to Think. Patrick Rapa

Black Sabbath

Past Lives (2 CDs), Sanctuary; The Original Black Sabbath: Symptom of the Universe 1970-1978 (2 CDs), Rhino

There's a whole TRL generation out there who only know Ozzy as an old, shaking, mumbling lunatic -- and it's a shame because, when he shook and mumbled as a young lunatic, it seemed much more subversive. Hated by prudes, misunderstood by the general public and unembraced by critics, the original, vilified, Ozz-fronted Black Sabbath was the Grendel of '70s rock. (Which might mean the artsy, Tolkien-reliant Led Zeppelin was Beowulf, if only because they at least seemed human.) The bellowing young Ozzy was the driving force behind the Sab's success (a widely held notion supported by the fact that the band failed to make one really good album after he left), but it's hard to overestimate the role of guitarist Tony Iommi. When an industrial accident chopped the tips off two of his fingers, he accommodated by making his own prosthetics and fitting light, loose banjo strings onto the guitar. Thus the low, scary, bluesy metal sound of Black Sabbath was formed. The original lineup made eight albums over its eight years and Iommi never seemed to be at a loss for haunting, stomach-rattling riffs. Maybe the most fascinating aspect of Past Lives is his ability to flawlessy recreate and build on his studio magic in a live setting. It's also fun to hear a more spritely, if no more coherent, Ozzy stroll the stage, rev up the crowd and just plain be young. Symptom of the Universe is the better set, but it's a best-of, so it'd better be. Compiling some of the band's finest songs (plus "Iron Man"), it's an ideal pick-up for the Sabbath fan whose tapes have gotten eaten over the years. Then again, Past Lives comes with a shiny black guitar pick, for more realistic air-guitaring -- so you'll win with either set. Patrick Rapa

Charlie Christian

When asked once to evaluate "modern" guitar players, Thelonious Monk quipped that Charlie Christian had spoiled him for everybody else. This box gives weight to those words, making a case for Christian not only as father of the amplified six-string but also an uncredited author of the bebop revolution. Ironically, none of the hundred-odd tracks and outtakes in this collection were originally recorded under the guitarist's name; most were a product of the world-famous Benny Goodman Sextet. Christian joined Goodman in 1939 and was a star within several weeks. His single-note articulation and buoyant, easygoing swing -- essentially a Lester Young emulation transposed to the fretboard -- literally changed jazz guitar forever. And performances like "Wholly Cats" (with Young) clearly presaged bop. All this is reason enough to celebrate Christian. The added fact of his untimely death (tuberculosis, age 25) imbues The Genius with a bittersweet hint of what might have been. Nate Chinen

Grant Green

Mine the Blue Note Records vaults and it's likely that no one will sound fresher than Grant Green. The St. Louis-bred guitarist virtually defined the sound of his instrument in the grits 'n' groove era: clarion tone, clean technique, clever use of space and time. This four-disc sampler amasses some of the choice cuts from his catalog, with space allocated to both organ combos and acoustic ensemble settings. Highlights include several tracks with Sonny Clark, several more with Big John Patton and a smattering of sessions featuring the likes of Wayne Shorter, Booker Ervin and Johnny Coles. Soulful economy is Green's hallmark throughout, but don't be suckered into reducing him to a character actor; this set reinforces his sheer flexibility (dig the brave reading of "My Favorite Things," Coltrane's rhythm section on hand). Completists may note that these tracks have been heard before, but they'll have to admit that this set is smartly done. Nate Chinen

Various Artists

It's hard to imagine there are Capitol Records fans, exactly -- people who scan the racks for the latest from this inescapable corporate bear. Given the label's immensity and the eclecticism necessary to maintain it, there's no defined "Capitol sound" (although they do have Radiohead and Coldplay). This set, then, feels like a greatest hits of the radio over the last 60 years, a tour of some of the best and most popular music since the dawn of pop music: Frank Sinatra, The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Bob Seger, Pink Floyd, Duke Ellington. It's a big, classy collection built for the casual listener, since the actual fans of these artists already own the songs included herein. Patrick Rapa

Sarah Vaughan

Although she was clearly one of the standout vocalists of the 20th (or, one suspects, any) century, Sarah Vaughan left behind a discography riddled with inconsistencies. The material she recorded for Roulette from 1960 to '63 is no exception, and this box showcases Sassy both at her best and near her worst. The stripped-down After Hours and Sarah + 2 albums are career peaks, yielding such intimate moments as "Key Largo" and "When Lights Are Low." A 1960 summit with Count Basie and Joe Williams is no less impressive, and for entirely different reasons. But other sessions yield mixed results, with Vaughan either skating through big-band fare or shrugging off a filmy layer of strings. (Sarah Slightly Classical is barely interesting even as a study in camp.) What never falters is the voice itself. Casual listeners should start elsewhere, but devoted admirers would do well to invest in this lavishly restored set. All recordings are available solely through Mosaic Records: 35 Melrose Place, Stamford, Conn., 203-327-7111, www.mosaicrecords.com. Nate Chinen