This is one of those weeks where there's just an insane array of good music, where it feels like you're shorting seven other albums if you pick a single one and name it the best. This could've gone any number of different ways. Downtown Boys' Full Communism is a furious and urgent and needed skronk-hardcore jolt, and I already feel pretty bad for not picking it. Hop Along's Painted Shut is total unpretentious throat-lump punk rock romanticism, beautifully rendered. In Non-Believers, Superchunk's Mac McCaughan pared things back and made a pretty, personal album about remembering what it was like to be young, the type of rose-tinted reverie that resonates harder the further away from being young you get. Mikal Cronin's MCIII might not be quite as immediate as its last album, but it wraps all its hooks up in blankets of psych-rock strings and finds an expansiveness I didn't think I'd ever hear from the guy. Todd Rundgren teamed up with Lindstrøm and Serena-Maneesh's Emil Nikolaisen to make Runddans, and it's some of the spaciest music any of them has ever made, which is saying something. In Peripheral Vision, Turnover made an album of pop-punk that shoots for the sun and actually gets there. There's a PC Music compilation that makes you feel like there are sugar-elves wriggling around in your brain. If you have the slightest interest in jazz, Kamasi Washington's triple-disc space-jazz monster The Epic feels essential. Torres recruited Portishead's Adrien Utley and PJ Harvey's original backing band to make Sprinter, an album of scraped-raw personal intensity. It's just an embarrassment of riches out there; there's so much good music that you can't really hope to process it all. And this may be completely a personal-bias thing, but given all those choices, I'm going to run with the one that makes me feel like I've been punched in the side of the head so hard that my eye has popped out of the socket. Maybe that's just me.