Portishead

Much like the other members of trip-hop's Holy Trinity — the inimitable Massive Attack and Tricky — Portishead broke out of Bristol in the early '90s with a melancholy mix of slo-mo beats and windswept samples. The trio quickly transcended that template, though, from their Mercury Prize-winning debut, Dummy (the shadowy balladry of "Sour Times," the vamped-up strut of "Glory Box"), to the first two singles off of their long-awaited reunion album (the spare, acoustic start and steady synth build of "The Rip," the stuttering, speaker-slamming drum loop of "Machine Gun"). Our Next Steps pulls top-notch tracks from Portishead's three studio albums as well, but it also reveals what the group's members were up to during their hiatus.

More than just a simple one-night-only souvenir, the Philharmonic-backed Roseland, NYC Live reveals Portishead at the height of their powers, fully realizing the widescreen vision of such trip-hop staples as the skin-crawling "Half Day Closing," the horn-blasting "All Mine," and the needle-dragging "Only You." Actually, that's not totally true; while Roseland is clearly a crucial chapter in Portishead's story, it leaves out some stunning before-and-after moments, including Beth Gibbons' haunting solo album, Out of Season, the startling, not-quite-trip-hop productions of Third (the twinkling keys and devilish distortion of "Hunter," the sinister textures of "Plastic"), and a couple of cinematic Depeche Mode remixes ("Walking In My Shoes," "In Your Room").

It's fitting that Portishead got signed on the strength of To Kill a Dead Man — a '60s-inspired spy movie they shot, scored, and starred in — rather than a run-of-the-mill demo. After all, the group's always approached their albums like a black-and-white classic of Hollywood's golden age, from the stark stills that turn their record sleeves into impromptu movie posters to the music itself — the sweeping orchestral arrangements and living, breathing film noir soundtrack of Roseland, NYC Live, the insta-classic cuts of Dummy and Portishead, and the completely unexpected sonic detours of Third, a long-delayed album that almost made us forget the ten lonely years we spent waiting — hoping — for its release.