This is Miranda Lambert’s second appearance on this list, counting her record with Pistol Annies. Will it be her last?

Every musical career evolves in a different way. All artists have ebbs and flows, some that come early, others that come late. Some start quietly, releasing forgettable albums through which they find their footing before making their mark a few records down the line. Others roar out of the gate with a striking debut only to fizzle a bit on a second or third album.

I’ve found that my very favorite artists — the ones that sink their hooks into me and earn a spot in the pantheon — are those who start strong and build and build over at least five albums, each a standalone success but each also an essential part of the emerging big picture.

I’m thinking of artists like R.E.M., Elvis Costello, Ben Folds, Bob Dylan, Aimee Mann and Lucinda Williams. If you look at the first five, six, seven of their albums, you see them building a case for greatness from the very beginning. They’ve all subsequently released work that isn’t as essential as those early records, but by then it didn’t matter.

Miranda Lambert has quietly joined the ranks of my very favorite artists by releasing seven albums (if you count the two with Pistol Annies) that are each essential on their own but also pieces of an evolving creative puzzle.

From her debut, the simple folk-country Kerosene, through this year’s Platinum, an eclectic mix of old- and new-school styles, Lambert has displayed a mastery of her craft and a sure-mindedness about her musical direction.

Platinum is at times the poppiest album Lambert has released, and at others the most traditional. She tries on a lush 70s sway for one nostalgic track and a roadhouse grind for another. She spends a lot of time looking back — at lost loves, good times, “old shit” and a world before the internet — but the album as a whole feels like the future of country music.