followed a string of projects that put 's at the forefront of pop culture. In particular, his collaboration with widened his audience dramatically; alongside his work on and , he executive produced 's Super Bowl LV halftime show, during which dashed through a hall of mirrors. On the tenth album, does something similar: is the final volume in a trilogy of albums in which he carries an artistic conversation with his past selves. The series began with 's sullen mutations of the nu-metal, trance, and R&B that soundtracked his adolescence, then jumped to the warped reconfigurations of his childhood radio memories on . Here, filters the music of his young adulthood -- shoegaze, post-rock, modern composition, and electronic music of all kinds -- through his perspective as an artist in his forties. As suggested by its title, old and new circle each other on 's recollections and reflections. This is music that sounds like it's always in the process of becoming: "Locrian Midwest" flits from prickly electronics and birdsong to flashes of pensive piano, moody vocalizations, strings, and woodwinds before finishing with a quintessentially analog synth sweep. traces the musical butterfly effect of how one creative choice ripples out to another with equal amounts of academic rigor and love. There's pure delight in "Plastic Antique"'s interplay of crisp electronics and saxophone; on "World Outside," stills the swelling synths and strings for a moment to sing "isn't the view so amazing?" Revisiting his former self brings surprising elements into 's spotlight. It's one of 's most guitar-heavy albums, with honest-to-goodness solos tearing across the dark fragments of "Nightmare Paint" and "Memories of Music," a hybrid of soft-rock, fusion, and prog driven by 's tireless fretwork. 's collaborators -- who also include composer/conductor , , and -- ensure that 's introspection never feels too insular. On "Krumville," a truly moving hologram of Midwestern emo, join voices to honor a departed friend. This song and several others employ artificial intelligence in an artful blend of 's self-described "false memories" and technology's possibilities and limitations. An AI-generated loop provides the foundation for the blissful shoegaze refractions of "On an Axis," and the cyber-chatter teased out of a speech enhancement program for "The Body Trail" feels like the latest incarnation of 's muttering vocaloid and 's surreal station ID breaks. While all of is remarkably on-brand for 's familiar concepts are never over-familiar. As restless as the album's pieces are, they're often more clearly defined than either of the trilogy's previous volumes, as are the moods and meanings behind the sounds he revisits. Some of 's most emotional and beautiful music brings to an end, with "A Barely Lit Path" uniting most of the album's tangents in a poignant moment of closure. Personal and grand at the same time, 's mixtape of memories continues 's enduring brilliance at moving forward by looking back. ~ Heather Phares