And yet, some artists (or labels) take such a simple concept and manage to miss the point entirely. In some cases, key periods of a band's history are overlooked; in others, those key periods are overaccentuated; and yet others entirely ignore the spirit of the music they were intended to celebrate.

New Order: Retro (2002)

It's easy to pick on New Order's avalanche of compilations, but the four-CD Retro sits at once as their most frivolous release and their most botched opportunity. Ideally following in the footsteps of the all-encompassing Heart and Soul box from Joy Division, Retro steps aside the chance to create a one-stop shop for New Order's studio albums an exhaustive collection of singles and dance mixes, and instead hands the reins over to four friends of the band to each create what is essentially a neat mixtape approximating any of the band's countless best-of albums. The original plan was to do a full box set of the band's entire output (released and unreleased), but the 20 discs were more than London Records was willing to release in one set; for reasons unknown, these three quasi-greatest hits albums bundled with one live compilation were seen as a reasonable substitute for 21 years' worth of standards and rarities.

Nirvana: With the Lights Out (2004)

Few bands can boast a stature, impact, or cultural legacy to match that of Nirvana, but the final contents of 2004's long-awaited box set from the Seattle heroes was puzzling to say the least. While it contained more than its fair share of oddities and previously unheard material, much of the tracks chosen were either demos identical to later releases of songs ("Smells Like Teen Spirit," "Milk It"), songs already released in superior form on bootlegs ("Here She Comes Now," "Return of the Rat"), or inferior demos of some of the group's best b-sides and outtakes ("Even in His Youth", "I Hate Myself and Want to Die"). Anyone who wanted this box to exist most likely had no use for the end result of With the Lights Out, and anyone looking for Nevermind Redux wound up sorely disappointed.

U2: The Complete U2 (2004)

It might not qualify in the classical sense of the word, since it was only released in a digital edition, but U2's foray into box set production carried three major strikes against it from the onset. For starters, the contents of The Complete U2 did not, in fact, comprise the complete U2 back catalog, with many outtakes and demos known to exist left off the set's admittedly impressive 446-song track listing. Additionally, numerous tracks were included in the set more than once, including the entire contents of the Best of 1980-1990 and Best of 1990-2000, where each of the 32 tracks represented had already appeared elsewhere within the same box as either an album track or in the respective promotional single section.

Casual fans looking for their chance to make a leap into hardcore U2-dom may have been salivating at the possibility, but the band made the set available exclusively via Apple's iTunes Store. Sold in protected AAC format, the music could only be heard through Apple software or on Apple hardware – and was quietly removed from iTunes inventory in 2007. The Irish quartet's classic The Joshua Tree received a thorough reissue that same year, suggesting some of the other albums that made them famous could be eligible for the full revisitation; until then, it's used CD bins or nothing for devotees and passersby alike in search of Bono doing his best take on "Unchained Melody."

Led Zeppelin: Box Set (1990), Box Set 2 (1993), Complete Studio Recordings (1993)

Considering how their first six albums are all classics in their own right, and that even their three weaker albums would no doubt have their bad moments dulled by the proximity of those first six, a Zeppelin box would seem automatically destined for greatness. Unfortunately, this isn't the case as even Jimmy Page's overseeing of the projects couldn't save any of the three attempts to create the last word on a Zepset. Page's excellent remastering aside, the complementary four-, two- and ten-disc sets each drop the ball in their own ways. Led Zeppelin were always a band with high emphasis on record packaging, and the 1990 and 1993 boxes follow that tradition in their elaborately-inlaid cases, outstanding essays and exhaustive booklets.

However, each of these also do an extreme disservice to the original albums by mixing and matching tracks across albums and committing the ultimate Ledhead sin by breaking up the "Heartbreaker"/"Living Loving Maid (She's Just a Woman)" pair so essential in their meshed flow and blues boogie. In a total converse maneuver, 1993's Complete Studio Recordings restores the tracks to their glorious original groupings and actually does include every album in its own right, but reduces each album's artwork to snapshots of the covers and interiors. For most bands this wouldn't mean much, but Zeppelin always made it a point to be an "album rock" band, and the elaborate packaging and layout of each of their vinyl releases came to define their catalog as much as the songs themselves. Complete's Spartan design meant no more spinning wheel in the sleeve of III, no more windows on the cover of Physical Graffiti, and no more mystery about what's inside In Through the Out Door. In attempting to create the complete Led Zeppelin, the man behind the myth instead created nothing more than a great-sounding facsimile.

Pink Floyd: Oh, by the Way (2007)

After four decades and nearly 75 million records sold in the United States alone, what could Pink Floyd possibly have left to do but gather everything in one place? With their 2007 box, the band just missed the mark by taking each of their fourteen studio albums – each already fabulously remastered and reissued at least once prior – and assembling them in a newly-designed box but without bonus material, expanded liner notes, essays or insights from any of the involved or affected parties. As an introduction to a band as complex as Floyd, fourteen albums is a bit much, and any fan in need of the group's entire catalog is most likely almost there with copies they already own. In short, the group may have created the single most unnecessary packaging of some of the most essential music in rock history.

So is all hope lost? Not necessarily. Assembling an all-inclusive look back is never an easy task, but some have done it right by keeping their aims simple and not insulting their audience by giving what they most likely already had. The Nick Drake Fruit Tree box, for example, tidily bundles the singer-songwriter's four albums with an in-depth booklet on the man behind the music. Message in a Box: The Complete Studio Recordings from The Police delivers as advertised save for the three songs that wouldn't fit in the confines of four discs, although the tell-all bio-in-their-own-words booklet more than makes up for it. And in 2006, Slayer set a fine standard for old-school metal groups with the three-disc, single-DVD thrash-through-the-years Soundtrack to the Apocalypse.

And then at the other extreme are those whose fans wait with baited breath for either the discography in question to bear revisiting or for musician and record company to agree on what to do with all that old music. The artists know the music's there, as do the executives, as do the fans, but while the music world waits anxiously for that Sonic Youth mega-collection, it may have to settle for another revised New Order box or two. That may or may not be a fair trade.

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