3 Colours Red

Apollo 440 Unfairly dismissed by much of the electronica cognoscenti—too commercial, some sniffed: too calculated—this was, nevertheless, an ambitious (and mostly satisfying) attempt to fuse the volume and density of rock with the broad textural vocabulary of electronica. The single, "Ain't Talkin''Bout Dub," effectively defined the template, marrying a corrosive Van Halen guitar sample to chattering breakbeats; the remainder of the album was divided between variations on this theme (the slide guitar propelling "Altamont Super-Highway Revisited," the bluesy shuffle of "Tears Of The Gods"), and moments of almost meditative stillness, courtesy of the group's other incarnation, the Stealth Sonic Orchestra. The most accomplished of the latter is a ballad titled "Pain In Any Language," which features the last recorded vocal of late Associates frontman Billy MacKenzie, to whose memory this bold and singular album is dedicated. —Andrew McGuire

Ash Same as Us Release.

Ash Tim Wheeler is a young songwriter who loves the themes of summer and girls almost as much as the young Brian Wilson did. The difference is Wheeler grew up in Downpatrick, Northern Ireland, instead of Southern California. Nevertheless, Free All Angelskicks off with the refrain "We've been walking barefoot all summer," continuing Ash's tradition of what Wheeler has termed "North Irish surf punk." The band have matured since the release of their last couple studio albums, 1977(named for the year several band members were born, as well as the musical era the album emulated) and the more rock-heavy Nu-Clear Sounds(which often out-Stroked the Strokes), but they still deliver a sonic summer pop-rock delight here. "Candy" unashamedly samples Scott Walker's version of Burt Bacharach's "Make It Easy on Yourself," and Ash's pop culture references also include the Buzzcocks, John Barry, Phil Spector, Nirvana, T. Rex, Dr. Dre, and the Jesus and Mary Chain, to name only a few. "Pacific Palisades" (which name-checks Brian Wilson and all things Beach Boys) is almost self-explanatory, title alone, while the delicious "Shining Light"—a huge hit in the U.K.—should warm its way into the hearts of all guitar-based power-punk-pop aficionados after only several listens. —Bill Holdship

Audioslave The debut of thundering supergroup Audioslave—featuring members of Rage Against the Machine post-Zack de la Rocha with ex-Soundgarden singer Chris Cornell—is as much curio as fascinating blend of visions. Cornell might be outnumbered, but his unmistakable holler and nihilistic imagery ensure that Audioslave, the album, recalls early Soundgarden. That's especially true since de la Rocha took Rage's signature rap and politicking with him. Still, if this is Soundgarden, it's Soundgarden set to stun. Rage guitarist Tom Morello is more of a mauler than Kim Thayil ever was—witness "Shadow on the Sun", which moves from bruising thud to psychedelic freak-out and back again—while the Rage rhythm section of Tim Commerford and Brad Wilk anchor the bottom end with pure instrumental cement. Intentionally or not, "Gasoline" bears passing resemblance to "Rusty Cage", while the sweeping "I Am the Highway" and slow-burning "The Last Remaining Light" best showcase Cornell's surprisingly New Age-y lyrical bent. Cover art by Storm Thorgerson—who gave Pink Floyd records their distinctive stamp—underscores the set's inherent celebrity. Fans of Rage and Soundgarden can raise clenched fists in unison, for Audioslave is win-win. —Kim Hughes

Badly Drawn Boy What's a budding musical genius to do in the pent-up lull between albums? Mercury Prize-winning singer-songwriter Badly Drawn Boy (nee Damon Gough), in his spare time between heralded debut THE HOUR OF BEWILDERBEEST, and a follow-up to be released later in 2002, approached the filmmakers adapting Nick Hornby's acclaimed novel ABOUT A BOY about the soundtrack for the film starring Hugh Grant. There's no question to the logic of the combination as Gough's sublimely literate, disaffected yet still charmingly breezy pop music fits the story of life's apparent losers at two stages of life, one an apathetic womanizer approaching his 40s, the other a bullied misfit boy passing into his teens, between whom an unlikely friendship ensues. A folky singer/songwriter scoring songs to help set the tone of a movie about unlikely friendship could stir up memories of Cat Stevens's unreleased soundtrack for "Harold & Maude," a fair enough assessment. In a similar fashion (but in its own way), Badly Drawn Boy's take on ABOUT A BOY weaves a mournful, yet upbeat tapestry drawing from its source material while managing to enrich the story itself. There are even some pop megahit hooks such as in the rolling "Silent Sigh" and in the head-bobbing, ostensible theme song "Something To Talk About."

Badly Drawn Boy It's hard to remember, listening to Have You Fed the Fish, that Badly Drawn Boy was once derided as lo-fi. On Damon Gough's third album, everything is writ large, his wobbly and whimsical songs transformed into bombastic epics. Finally, his much-vaunted Springsteen obsession starts making sense. For this is Gough's LA record, an extravagant conceit that really shouldn't work but, more often than not, does. Essentially, it's big music about simple things, love letters from California back home to his wife in Manchester. So when he tackles the sweet mundanities of domestic life on the title track, he plasters sentiments usually found on post-it notes across 40-foot billboards. The results are oddly moving, especially on "You Were Right", where dreams of a love triangle with Madonna and the Queen and memories of various celebrity deaths become a meditation on not taking anything for granted. Frequently, it's absurd, too: especially the crotchety funk of "Using Our Feet" and the Nilsson-ish Vaudeville of "Tickets to What You Need". Beware, though, because the grandiose production makes Gough's customarily fine songs not quite as accessible as usual—a few listens are needed before their charms cut through the flash. —John Mulvey

Badly Drawn Boy In 2000, the techno-folk troubadour Damon Gough, a.k.a. Badly Drawn Boy, won the U.K.-based Mercury Music Prize, Brit-pop's blue ribbon award. His first full-length, The Hour of Bewilderbeast, is a song cycle relaying the life span of a romantic relationship with dry lyrical humor, soft-touch acoustic strumming, mellow horns, and gossamer strings. Repeated listenings are required, but like a down pillow, as your head sinks into this album, its warm comforts and rewards reveal themselves deep within a melodic cushion. —Beth Massa

Barry White

Beach Boys

Beatles Proving yet again their willingness to dice 'n' slice their burgeoning legacy into new—if not exactly fresh—product, the Fab Four Minus One released this single disc compendium of their No. 1 hits. Though obviously superfluous to long-time Fabs faithful (who may also find themselves quibbling over the precise definition of "No. 1 hit" and the exclusion of seeming contenders like "Please Please Me" and "Strawberry Fields"), newly arrived visitors from the Pleiades star cluster and other neophytes will find it a concise and generous (nearly 80 minutes) single-disc introduction to the band's career-spanning, unparalleled dominance of pop music in the 1960s and beyond. But more than merely a trophy case of commercial success (and it won't be hard to find people to argue that these singles aren't even the band's best work), 1is also a quick sketch of a remarkable seven-year musical evolution, one that stretches from the neo-skiffle of "Love Me Do" through a remarkable synthesis of R&B, rockabilly, Tin Pan Alley, gospel, country and classical that still defies efforts to effectively deconstruct it. —Jerry McCulley

Beatles The closest the Beatles came to a greatest hits package, this document of the early part of their career features hit singles (in chronological order) and selected album tracks, running from "Love Me Do" through the groundbreaking Rubber Souland Revolveralbums. While this may be an excellent intro for beginners, real fans will never be content with only selections, especially when you're dealing with those aforementioned albums. Capitol packages the collection on two discs, copying the original vinyl version—but, of course, CDs hold more music than records did. Still, you do get 26 bona fide classics, so there's no real need to complain. —Bill Holdship

Beatles Even as the Beatles began heading toward an inevitable break-up, their prolific ways continued; this two-disc look back only skims the surface of their later achievements. Excerpts from Sgt. Pepper, Magical Mystery Tour, the white album, Abbey Road, and Let It Becompete for space with classic singles that do as much or more to prove their eclecticism: the epic ballad "Hey Jude", the plaintive "Strawberry Fields Forever", straight rock & roll of all stripes from the plainspoken "Revolution" and "Get Back" to the surreal "Come Together". Decades after the split, this (and its companion set of 1962-1966 cuts) remains a favoured introduction for young listeners and a key sampler for veteran fans. —Rickey Wright

Beatles How much better, you could be forgiven for wondering, could Let It Bebe? The answer, perhaps surprisingly, is "a bit". Let It Be, while obviously better than almost everything ever recorded by anyone else, was compromised by the fact that the Beatles were disintegrating as a unit during the recording sessions, the rancour most famously illustrated by John Lennon calling in Phil Spector behind Paul McCartney's back to rework "The Long and Winding Road". Let It Be... Naked, then, is the album as the Beatles would have heard it while they were making it.

The tracklisting on this version of Let It Bediffers slightly from the original—there—there's no "Maggie Mae" or "Dig It", while "Don't Let Me Down" has been added. The rest of the songs, shorn of Spector's decorative flourishes, confirm that although the Beatles were having occasional difficulty speaking to each other during these sessions, there was no problem about playing together. The only two minor quibbles are that "The Long and Winding Road" is still McCartney at his most saccharine, and that any Beatles version of "Across the Universe" is never going to hold a candle to that by Laibach. —Andrew Mueller

The Beatles The Beatles' last days as a band were as productive as any major pop phenomenon that was about to split. After recording the ragged-but-right Let It Be, the group held on for this ambitious effort, an album that was to become their best-selling. Though all four contribute to the first side's writing, John Lennon's hard-rocking, "Come Together" and "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" make the strongest impression. A series of song fragments edited together in suite form dominates side two; its portentous, touching, official close ("Golden Slumbers" / "Carry That Weight" / "The End") is nicely undercut, in typical Beatles fashion, by Paul McCartney's cheeky "Her Majesty", which follows. —Rickey Wright

The Beatles Banged out in a hurry for the 1964 Christmas market, Beatles for Salesometimes sounds it, loaded with ill-conceived covers and some of John Lennon's most self-loathing lyrics. On the other hand, the people doing the banging-out were the Beatles, whose instincts for what worked musically were so strong that they could basically do no wrong—any record that has "Baby's in Black", "I Don't Want to Spoil the Party" and the delectable "Eight Days a Week" on it is only "minor" in the most relative sense. And, though their voices had been frazzled a bit by constant touring, they revved them up for some joyous shouting, and indulged their fondness for American country in subtle, playful ways. —Douglas Wolk

The Beatles The White Album was meant to be the record that brought the Beatles back to earth after three years of studio experimentation. Instead, it took them all over the place, continuing to burst the envelope of pop music. Lennon and McCartney were still at the height of their songwriting powers, with Lennon in particular growing into one of music's towering figures. But even McCartney could still rock, and the amazement on "Helter Skelter" was that he had vocal cords at the end. From Beach Boys knock-offs to reggae and to the unknown ("Revolution #9 "), this has it all. Some records have "legend" written all over them; this is one. —Chris Nickson

The Beatles Their first-ever album, Please Please Meis raw and rough and still very rock & roll. Having already scored two hits when this appeared, Lennon and McCartney were only just beginning to flex their writing muscles and so relied heavily on the cover material to see them through. Their insecurity about their own abilities seems curious in hindsight since they'd pulled the title song and "I Saw Her Standing There" (with thanks to Little Richard) out of their hats. But they were an unknown quantity, still to launch a million bands and take pop music to places it had never dreamed off. A small step for four men, a giant leap for music. —Chris Nickson

The Beatles There are only three stories worth knowing from the last 2,000 years of history: the life of Mohammed, the life of Jesus and the career of The Beatles. They invented all music ever. John was the best one; but Paul is—despite the knighthood and everything—still the most under-rated songwriter of the 20th century. This is the album with "Eleanor Rigby", "Here, There and Everywhere", "For No One", "I'm Only Sleeping" and "Tomorrow Never Knows" on it—but then, you knew that anyway. We presume you have this album already and you're just getting a second copy in case you lose the first. —Caitlan Moran

The Beatles Before Sgt. Pepper's, no one seriously thought of rock music as actual art. That all changed in 1967, though, when John, Paul, George and Ringo (with "A Little Help" from their friend, producer George Martin) created an undeniable work of art which remains, after 3-plus decades, one of the most influential albums of all time. From Lennon's evocative word/sound pictures (the trippy "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds", the carnival-like "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite") and McCartney's music hall-styled "When I'm 64", to Harrison's Eastern-leaning "Within You Without You", and the avant-garde mini-suite, "A Day in the Life", Sgt. Pepper'swas a milestone for both 1960s music and popular culture in general. —Billy Altman

Bell X1

blink-182 Digitally remixed & remastered reissue of their 1993 debut, previously only available on cassette. Some of these tracks were re-recorded for their albums 'Cheshire Cat'&'Dude Ranch', and some have never been released at all, including a cover of Screeching Weasel's 'The Girl Next Door'. 14 tracks on this 1998 Kung Fu Records release.

blink-182 Terrific sales of their independent Cheshire Catgot Blink-182 signed to a major label (MCA) for 1997's Dude Ranch, which led to radio hits ("Dammit,""Josie") and platinum sales. No "sell-out" on the band's part, though, as Dude Ranchsimply features another infectious collection of snotty vocals, punchy rhythms, vivid lyrics, and aggressive chords. San Diego producer Mark Trombino shines some of the scuffed edges, but this is still good ol' Blink at its sunny, effervescent best. Nice "emocore" spoof here ("Emo"), plus an odd knack for crafting bass-lines that recall—seriously!—New Order, and vocal harmonies that owe debts to the Beach Boys. —Mark Woodlief

blink-182 On their 1997 release, Dude Ranch, juvenile hardcore-pop band Blink 182 tickled the funny bone with an assortment of dumb sex jokes, off-color artwork, and between-song skits, including one of a dog drinking from a freshly peed in toilet. So, two years down the road, have the band matured at all? One look at the cover of Enema of the State, which features cover art of a tarted-up blonde nurse donning a rubber glove, provides the easy answer. Fortunately, Enemasupports the humor with strong musicianship. The songs are more dynamic and multitempoed than those on Dude Ranch, sounding like a cross between the Descendents and Fountains of Wayne. And unlike the glut of alt-rock releases that offer one or two memorable songs, Enemais flush with instantly memorable melodies and ear-pleasing harmonies. Good, dirty fun—no more, no less. —Jon Wiederhorn

blink-182 Their formula is simple enough—equal parts teenage humor and brattiness combined with infectious guitar hooks that just beg to be cranked up on the stereo. But with Take Off Your Pants and Jacket, the guys in Blink 182 may have delivered their best album to date, a punk-pop fusion that's so consistent you'll wonder which of the 13 tracks will become radio hits (any has the chance, really). Yes, as with Dude Ranchand Enema of the State, the songs here revolve around falling in love ("The Rock Show,""First Date"), falling out of love ("Online Songs,""Happy Holidays, You Bastard"), and plenty of other ways to kill time while away from school ("Reckless Abandon"). And yes, these guitar-driven songs all pretty much sound the same, but Take Offnever gets boring. There's too much nervous energy here, too many slight variations in the arrangements, and too many hilarious lyrics that you won't want to miss. Parents may remember that the Buzzcocks used this same shtick in the late '70s, older siblings may remember that Green Day did it well not so many years ago, but Blink fans know that their band is more clever than anyone else playing today. The bonus tracks are throwaways, but that's OK—the threesome have given us plenty to bop our heads to here. —Jason Verlinde

blink-182 Blink 182 Punk rock is meant to be played loud and snotty. Blink 182 are a San Diego punk rock threesome whose interest in arrested development has led them to a sparkling array of sex jokes that cover everything from anal sex to masturbation to... Well, you get the idea—and that's just the between-song banter. This limited-edition live collection—a holding pattern until the band's fifth studio album is released in 2001—features a slam-dunk collection of the band's hits, fan favorites from their various studio albums, and new tunes ("Blew Job" among the enlightened tracks). One additional studio track, "Man Overboard" (already a hit on a radio near you), packs a harder punch than most, thanks to the studio finesse. But mostly these are revved-up versions of songs to break a skateboard by. With the added appeal of a color booklet and about seven minutes of "stage banter" tacked on at the end, guaranteed to either leave you in stitches or have you grounded for a month. —Rob O'Connor

The Bloodhound Gang Sophomoric but occasionally amusing, the Bloodhound Gang's third outing serves up a dash of Cake, a sprinkling of Blink 182, and heavy doses of metal, hip-hop, and techno. And that's not even mentioning the Pink Floyd rip and Falco sample! Underneath the juvenile, jokey lyrics ("It's hard to rhyme a word like vagina") and cheap chortles (the faux-country "A Lap Dance Is So Much Better When the Stripper Is Crying" being one prime example) are a few memorable melodies. "The Bad Touch" is a catchy, sample-heavy, danceable sex song that name-checks numerous pop-culture touchstones, from Waffle House to the Discovery Channel. Metallica and Frankie Goes to Hollywood samples meld in the rap-metal "Mope." An ode to adult film actress Chasey Lain is yet another perverse novelty entry on this schtick-a-song offering. Yes, there are some guilty chuckles to be found here, but ultimately this 18-track outing is only truly titillating if you're 12—or act like you are. —Katherine Turman

The Bloodhound Gang White rappers generally divide into two camps: the Beastie Boys disciples and the House of Pain clique. For the former, honky hip-hop has nothing to do with the African-American experiences that gave birth to the rap form; rather, it is borrowed to express the middle-class, often suburban, ennui that comes from too much pop culture and too much time on one's hands. In the latter, groups attempt to co-opt the Afrocentrism and identity worship from black rap and use it as a template for their own particular ethnic trumpeting—Irish, in HOP's case. On their debut album, Use Your Fingers, Bloodhound Gang make it clear which group they expect to be confused with: "No, I'm not the guy from the Beastie Boys!" yells Jimmy Pop (or is it his partner Daddy Long Legs?). Hailing from suburban Philadelphia, BG are a self-contained frat party dying to offend anyone who'll listen with their often hilarious, in-your-face political incorrectness. They fight for their right to be moronic throughout—whether worshiping Rip Taylor or invoking the Cavity Creeps from an old toothpaste ad. It's not all just fat-chick and cripple jokes, though: BG back up their obnoxious idiocy with some fairly wise musical maneuvering. While their age and background lead them to repeatedly mine the '80s for material—Duran Duran and Cure samples, Michael Jackson and Blondie interpolations, a "Kids in America" cover—their sly comments and ingenious a cappella snippets prove they're surprisingly sharp and able lads. —Roni Sarig

Blur Scanning the tracklisting of Blur's greatest hits album it's hard not to reach the conclusion that the band are a little embarrassed by their earlier and even mid-career work. Opening with the chart one-two of "Beetlebum" and "Song 2" (from their eponymous creative watershed album of 1997) rather than the baggy groove of debut single "She's So High", the band's desire to accentuate their more recent efforts is obvious. Running order aside, it's hard to fault the 18 tracks which chart the life and times of one of the country's smartest, most inventive bands. From the tuxedoed ballad "The Universal", through cartoon Britpoppery of numbers like "Parklife" and "Country House" to the freshly recorded indie-isms of single "Music Is My Radar", their searching intelligence, deft hooks and willingness to sweep the board are never less than admirable. —Mike Pattenden

Blur

Blur Although Blur had long been recognised as one of the premier bands responsible for the reinvigoration of Britpop in the 1990s, it's 1994's Parklifethat truly provided the template for the entire movement. At a time when Oasis were aping the sounds of their pub-rock heroes on Definitely Maybe, Blur drew from the legacy of the Kinks and Small Faces to create an album that's as English as a rainy Sunday in front of the gas fire. Parklifeis full of songs that, quite frankly, don't make much sense outside of the British Isles, songs that find joy in the mundane, like "Girls & Boys" (a song about working-class holidaymakers in the sun) and "Parklife" (a day in the life of a cheeky, unemployed bench-sitter). Witty, ironic and irreverent, Parkliferemains one of those rare albums that sum up a specific place and time (Britain in the mid-1990s). For that reason alone, it can be considered one of Blur's finest albums. —Robert Burrow

Blur Think Tankwas an emotional experience for Blur, with reports of problems—not least the exit of founding member Graham Coxon half way through recording. With that in mind you might expect the end product to be a mess. In the event, although Think Tank, like its predecessor, is a hotchpotch of ideas, it is a cohesive album.

After the brash pop of Damon Albarn's Gorillaz side-project and the overtly emotional 13, this is a soulful and subtle affair. There are a couple of classic Blur rock moments here: "Crazy Beat" is cut from the same cloth as the pogo-ing classic "Song 2", while the painfully short but brilliant "We've Got a File on You" sounds like agitprop punkers Crass in a fight with a Moroccan snake charmer.

But while Damon Albarn still has an ear for a melody, Blur sound like a different band without Coxon's guitars to subvert them. Morocco and Damon's Mali Musichave changed Blur. "Caravan" uses a sleepy rhythm that plods at a camel's pace, while "Gene by Gene" employs cross rhythms evoking images of the desert and sound textures from unorthodox sources. Blur are now using sounds to create their music rather than the standard rock line up. For some fans it may be one evolution too far, but for fans who appreciate them as they are—a band that refuses to stay still—Think Tankshould be an interesting listen. —Caroline Butler

Bob Dylan

Bush Golden State, Bush's fourth album, is their strongest to date. This record gleams with power and purpose, as well it should. Bush have been slogging their way around the toilets, arenas and stadia of the world for a decade now: they may be orthodox, but they wield a thrilling control over rock's tensions and dynamics. In "Solutions", "Superman", "Fugitive" and "Reasons", Golden State boasts four exemplary alternative rock anthems that any band would be proud to own. There are no weak tracks, no fillers. Gavin Rossdale sounds anguished and driven, and his band is a fantastic, febrile unit. So, did the early, embryonic Bush begin their career copying Nirvana? Who cares? Golden State is a rich, resourceful record from a band near their peak. —Ian Gittins

Bush It's hard to deny that "Swallowed"—the first single from Bush's difficult second album Razorblade Suitcase—has a way with a rousing, seismic chorus. It's just a shame that the same dynamics were born with Husker Du, minted by The Pixies, and perfected by Nirvana while Bush were still gigging their way around London's fleapits, waiting for their big break. No, Razorblade Suitcase—like Bush's debut, Sixteen Stone—isn—isn't actually that bad. It's just perplexing to see a band this successful make a career out of stepping in other band's footsteps. Steve Albini, producer of Razorblade Suitcase does his erstwhile best to pervert Bush's radio-clean grunge, as on "Insect Kin"—but as he was the producer of Nirvana's In Utero, you can't help but feel that Razorblade Suitcase apes that record's fractured angst as surely as Sixteen Stone crept in on the tail of Nevermind. —Louis Pattison

Bush

BUSH

Bush

The Cardigans

The Cardigans Until now, the Swedish group the Cardigans were easily identified by their sunny, pop-friendly, melodic releases. Fearing being typecast as an act fluffier than a Nordic lamb, the band decided to head farther north for the winter. With Gran Turismo, their fifth release, you'll need your favorite, um, sweater, because the season has turned, the atmosphere is frosty, and, indeed, the nights are long and dark. Gran Turismois a trip-hop album following the lead of grim meisters Portishead. The CD is punctuated with distorted, muted, uncomplicated guitar riffs and keyboard effects that often sound like a harpsichord played through a fuzz box. Nina Persson's slightly aching, sleepy little cutesy lead vocals sound as frictionless as rubbing two ice cubes together. Although the skies are grayer here, the one familiar musical element is their simple yet compelling rhythm structures, as evidenced in their jazz-informed drum patterns. If the Cardigans weren't competent musicians, this album would come across as nothing more than a career-sustaining maneuver. But with this solid, dark, and intriguing release, they've clearly demonstrated their ability to compose great songs, no matter what the weather. —Beth Bessmer

The Cardigans Statistics are a baffling thing. They tell us that Sweden enjoys Europe's highest standard of living and its highest suicide rate. Statistics also tell us that The Cardigans are the country's most successful musical export since Abba. This actually makes perfect sense, for the quintet's music is an uncannily accurate microcosm of the country that spawned it—deliciously breezy pop melodies lent just enough bite by Nina Persson's fatalistic vocals. It's a recipe they perfected with unnerving confidence on Life, which exhibits an instinctive familiarity with the pantheon of timeless pop. Burt Bacharach's shadow looms unmistakably over the pensive autumnal strains of "Celia Inside" and "Tomorrow", whilst fragrant indie-pop nuggets such as "Rise And Shine" and "Gordon's Gardenparty" suggest that guitarist/songwriter Peter Svensson spent more than the occasional evening learning his craft from old Smiths records. It is, of course, impossible to discuss intuitive 90s female-fronted pop acts without mentioning Saint Etienne. The appreciation, in this case, is mutual; so impressed were the Etienne with the airy pristine sound of Life, that they were inspired to record 1997's Good Humorin the same Malmo studios. —Peter Paphides

Catatonia If International Velvetwas Catatonia exploding into the public sights, Equally Cursed and Blessedis the sound of a band realizing what's happened. As such, it is a much more personal album. The opening track "Dead from the Waist Down" provides a tour-bus perspective on America while "Bulimic Beats" is glassily fragile and backs Cerys Matthews's voice with a harp. Catatonia continue to stomp about while displaying wit, particularly with "Londinium" ("I come alive outside the M25") and the wonderful, Clash-influenced "Storm the Palace," an anti-Royalist song suggesting what we can do with the Queen and her house ("Turn it into a bar, let them work in Spar"). Finally, on "She's a Millionaire," Matthews delivers the best pronunciation of the word "gynecology" ever recorded. —Emma Johnston

Catatonia In the spring of 1998, Catatonia's International Velvetwas the number one record in Britain, and they were touted as the saviors of U.K. rock. In itself, that's not such a great feat, since specious acts like Manic Street Preachers, Mansun, and Ocean Colour Scene have received similar praise. But in this case some of the accolades are justified. International Velvetis a cosmopolitan cavalcade of style and sound. Some songs ("Mulder and Scully,""International Velvet") are buoyantly punchy, combining the emphatic drama of the London Suede with the quirky vivacity of Elastica. Others ("Don't Need the Sunshine,""Johnny Come Lately") are more reminiscent of English folk- popsters like Nick Drake, and a couple ("Goldfish and Paracetamol,""Why I Can't Stand One Night Stands") even blend elements of trip-hop with lumbering bar balladry. Regardless of musical technique, all the songs are unified by the vocals of chanteuse Cerys Matthews, who can seduce, berate, and reduce the listener to tears all in a single breath. The Welsh music scene is Catatonic no more. —Jon Wiederhorn

The Charlatans U.K. Quavering Hammond organ? Check. Sixties-throwback guitar riffs? Check. Climbing bass lines? Check. Ecstasy-blessed dreamscape that branded nearly all music coming out of Manchester, England, in the early '90s? Check again. With each new album, the Charlatans peel away the layers of hypnotic haze that enveloped their landmark debut, Some Friendly. Us and Us Only, their sixth studio release, reveals the core of the band's influences with greatest clarity. The opening track, "Forever," lives up to its name, an epic seven-and-a-half-minute free-wheeling tributary of free-association psychedelia. But after that, the jams are lifted nearly verbatim out of the Rolling Stones' proverbial songbook. The reigning "Madchester" champs don roots-rocker hats, as lead singer Tim Burgess occasionally works in his best Bob Dylan impression, the wah-wah gives way to twangy hooks, and piano and harmonica fill out melodies. Us and Us Onlyis an archetypically derivative album; but the honesty in its production has resulted in the Charlatans' most enduring collection. —Beth Massa

The Chemical Brothers To follow up their bombastic 1995 album Exit Planet Dust, the Chemical Brothers fine-tuned their bombastic beats and produced a rock-solid pop album (pun intended). Dig Your Own Holefinds the common ground between rock & roll and techno, both in spirit and substance. Singles like "Block Rockin' Beats,""Elektrobank," and "Setting Sun" (featuring vocals by Oasis's Noel Gallagher) may lack the big hair and pomposity of rock music, but they make up for it in spades, with sampled and real guitars battling for space with sirens and distorted hip-hop drums. The album reeks of pure enthusiasm and energy, evoking a crowd-pleasing exuberance that makes Dig Your Own Holea Back in Blackfor the late 1990s. Pure stadium techno. —Matthew Corwine

The Chemical Brothers A key record of the 1990s, Exit Planet Dustinvented the big-beat style that dominated British dance music in the second half of the decade, and it still sounds superb in its own right. Skull-crunching hip-hop loops, fuzz guitar, insistently repetitive spoken samples and thunderous basslines make up the blueprint for one of the most instantly energising albums ever recorded. Many of the titles——"Chemical Beats", "Fuck Up Beats", "Chico's Groove"—are fairly self-explanatory. Others show a level of erudite humour;"Song To The Siren" filches the name of a Tim Buckley ballad for a track more in keeping with the mysteries of a car alarm, while "One Too Many Mornings" is nothing that Bob Dylan would recognise in a hurry. Collaborations with Beth Orton ("Alive Alone") and the Charlatans' Tim Burgess ("Life Is Sweet") add human voices to the brilliant mechanical formula. —David Bennun

The Clash Punk's death knell had already been called, but London Callingfound The Clash fighting a heroic rear guard battle. Having shelved the no-frills heads-down thunder of The Clashand Give 'Em Enough Rope, London Callingwas an extravagant benchmark. Ostensibly about the ideological and real struggles that rent British society asunder at the end of the 1970s, London Callingwas couched in the language of revolutionary desperadoes. Influenced by reggae and ska, and augmented by the Irish Horns, the result was one of the most heady, celebratory rock & roll records to have come out of the punk movement. For every traditional rabble-rouser like "Rudie Can't Fail" or "Revolution Rock", though, there was a starker truth to London Callingfound in "Guns Of Brixton", or a shred of poignancy in "Lost In The Supermarket" that confirmed The Clash's ideological importance to a generation. Seldom, if ever, had punk sounded so gloriously righteous, but so damn right. —Louis Pattison

Coldplay Music doesn't come more touching than Parachutes. With their debut single alone, the emotion-fortified "Shiver", Coldplay proved they could shift between elated and crushed in a breath as singer Chris Martin poured out music's oldest chestnut (unconditional yet unrequited love) with the shakiest of voices and a backdrop of epic guitars that rouse and tug at the heart strings. For 10 tracks on Parachutes, he comes out with these, adding new-found meaning to the most tired and overused rock sentiments—love found, love lost, love unrequited, hurting the ones you love and the struggle that is life—over acoustic guitars and emotionally fraught rock. And for once, all the clichés ring true, thanks to Chris Martin genuinely sounding like a man picking over the bones of his life and soul, coming up with equal parts reasons to be cheerful and seriously depressed. Not that Parachutesis a depressing album; there's too much conviction to the guitars and hope in Martin's words for that. Instead it's a beautifully tender balance that comes as close to perfection as anything that's come before it. —Dan Gennoe

Coldplay On Coldplay's A Rush of Blood to the Head, the melodic excellence of Parachutesremains, as does the delicate soulfulness of Chris Martin's voice. But now different styles are approached, as the band develop even further beyond their debut album (and the numerous Radiohead comparisons that dogged them at first). "God Put a Smile upon Your Face", for instance, has a thumping voodoo quality, while the hypnotic "A Whisper" has a wild vocal arrangement recalling Jefferson Airplane. Beyond this, each of the 11 tracks—from the literate power ballad "In My Place" to the 60s-style mantra "Daylight"—are given room to breathe, gradually reaching an ecstatic crescendo where Martin and that huge Coldplay piano ride over a pulsing rhythm and orchestrations that are powerful but never overblown. "Give me real, don't give me fake" says Martin in the opening "Politik" and it's an appropriately uncompromising demand, for A Rush of Blood...is without doubt the most heartfelt and emotionally liberated album to top the charts in ages. —Dominic Wills

Coldplay Coldplay were faced with a difficult choice as they set to work on X&Y. They could either follow Radiohead’s lead and use their enormous success and financial security as a springboard to a brave experimental future—or they could play it safe, repeat the tricks used on the 16 million-selling A Rush Of Blood To The Head, and consolidate their position as one of the biggest bands in the world.

In truth, despite the Tetris-inspired artwork and presence of teaser track "Talk"—which steals its melody line from electro-futurists Kraftwerk’s gorgeous "Computer Love"—X—X&Yis more the latter than the former. Fans will be delighted by "What If?", a piano elegy that takes flight on strings, and slowly builds towards a Beatles'"A Day In The Life"-style climax, while the likes of "Fix You" and hidden track "'Til Kingdom Come"—originally written for country hero Johnny Cash—proves Martin’s skill for simple, affecting songwriting remains intact. One development, however, comes through the judicious inclusion of some rather pleasant synthesiser work—see "White Shadows", where Martin gently beseeches "Come on love, stay with me" over a gentle Eno-esque keyboard wash. Fair enough: the experimental albums can come later. —Louis Pattison

More to Explore

A Rush of Blood to the Head (CD)

Parachutes(CD)

Coldplay: Live 2003(Limited Edition DVD with Live CD)

Coldplay: Look at the Stars(Paperback)

Find more from Coldplay

Counting Crows It's amazing the difference a year makes. Upon its release, August and Everything Aftersounded remarkably fresh, a welcome change from the crunch and screech of grunge. Blending the vocal athleticism of Van Morrison with the moody rock of The Band, the Counting Crows turned on a whole legion of fans turned off by modern rock. But what sounded fresh soon became stale as dozens of bands flocked to the radio with euthanised versions of the Counting Crows' sound. But you shouldn't hold that against the Crow boys. August and Everything Afteris a fantastic rock album. Though "Mr. Jones" was the money-maker, the disc features such stand-out cuts as the dark lilt of "Anna Begins", the morose "Rain King", and the outstanding U2-meets-Grant Lee Buffalo anthem "Murder of One". Maybe time, and another listen, will heal the damage wrought. —Tod Nelson

Counting Crows Recovering the Satellitesmay not be quite the tower of song that the Crows' debut August and Everything Afterwas, but it could hardly be called a sophomore slump. Vocalist Adam Duritz and crew mine similar territory on the more densely produced Satellites, couching tales of dreamers, lovers, and losers in music that's part classic rock redux and part heartfelt folk jangle. As able as the band is though, it remains Duritz's show, and his plaintive voice and serpentine lyrics are what drive this record home, particularly on "Daylight Fading", "Miller's Angels" and the aching hit "A Long December."—Michael Ruby

Crowded House

Damien Rice The Words "Singer" and "Songwriter" Are Not Always Mutually Exclusive, but in this Case, They Truly Mean Something Very Special. Damien Rice is Irish and a Contemporary of Another Acclaimed Singer Songwriter David Kitt. Rice Showcases his Very Special Talents for Creating Stories and Songs of Depth and Emotion with a Meticulousness that is Envied by Many He Has Passed on his Way to Fame. Just a Couple of Listens to this Album Will have You Admiring Him, in Awe of his Immense Talent. (Must Run in the Family...his Cousin is Renowned Composer David Arnold.)

Dandy Warhols

Dandy Warhols 13 Tales From Urban Bohemia, the third album from the Dandy Warhols, has the band departing from the degenerate slacker psychedelia of their previous works. Well, mostly. From the first three tracks of Urban Bohemia, you'd be forgiven for thinking that it's business as usual for the Dandys. However, when the slide guitar (and, yes, banjo) of "Country Leaver" kicks in, it's clear that Courtney Taylor is taking his Portland, Oregon-based band somewhere different. From that point, the album changes tack and becomes one of the catchiest—and sardonic—American rock albums in recent memory. "Solid" is all upbeat harmonies about the joy of getting over a previous lover, while "Horse Pills"—which starts with Taylor's deadpan and indifferent command to "kick it"—is all big, fuzzy guitars and hip-hop beats wielded against too-rich, silicon-and-valium-addicted divorcées. Easy targets, to be sure, but it's when the Dandys focus their attention on wannabe artsy types on "Bohemian Like You" that this album truly proves its worth, with a guitar riff lifted straight off of the Rolling Stones, backed by some Hammond organ and one of the catchiest sing-along choruses since Pulp's "Common People". With obvious influences ranging from Lou Reed to the Cult to Adam and the Ants, 13 Tales From Urban Bohemiais a classic, and classy, rock album. —Robert Burrow

Dandy Warhols It's refreshing to hear a 1980s tribute that doesn't get overwhelmed by its own sense of irony. The Dandy Warhols' fourth album, Welcome to the Monkey Houseis just such an album. Teaming up with coproducer Nick Rhodes—who learned a thing or two about 80s success-via-excess as Duran Duran's keyboard player—the Dandys have ditched most of their guitars in favour of synths and sequencers, and teamed up with a host of "genuine, period authentic" guest stars: Duran Duran's Simon Le Bon provides backing vocals on the tripped-out "Plan A", Chic guitarist/producer Nile Rodgers joins the band on the retro, electro-funk work-out "I Am a Scientist" and legendary Bowie/ T-Rex producer Tony Visconti collaborates on "The Dope" and the glam-stomp of "Hit Rock Bottom".

Generally, the new sound is a change that suits them well—the Dandy Warhols have always had a superb sense of history, and their best work has often been their more obvious homage ("Bohemian Like You", for example). But more than that, the Dandys have retained their playful, baiting sense of humour (they are, after all, also responsible for the classic "Not If You Were the Last Junky on Earth"), and it's this tongue-in-cheek deconstruction of their own coolness that serves them well on Welcome to the Monkey House. Frontman Courtney Taylor-Taylor (the double-barrelled surname is new, so maybe it's an attempt at anglicising?) still delivers most of his lyrics with a lazy nonchalance, but this time he matches it with a tight-trousers falsetto that seems equally suited to his androgynous image. As with most Dandy Warhols albums, the best songs on Monkey Houseare the most biting—in particular the first single, "We Used to Be Friends". The rest of the album isn't as immediately accessible, but it's well worth giving it a few listens. Guitars or not, the Dandy Warhols know a thing or two about writing a catchy tune, and Welcome to the Monkey Houseis as much fun as anything they've done before. —Robert Burrow

The Dandy Warhols

David Bowie The second most important moment in Bowie's glam period, Aladdin Saneis full of smart, cutting-edge songs that hold up decades later as classic moments in rock. Standout tracks include "Panic in Detroit", with Mick Ronson's screaming guitars and Mick Woodmansey's urgent drumming;"Watch that Man", a piano-driven, rollicking number perfect for the Bowie strut; the lascivious and sweaty "Cracked Actor"; the punky "Jean Genie"; and a perfectly raucous cover of "Let's Spend the Night Together". "Time" hearkens back to the theatrics of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, while "Drive in Saturday", "The Prettiest Star", and "Lady Grinning Soul" serve as precursors to Bowie's "plastic soul" sounds that came later in the 1970s. Aladdin Saneis even more impressive when considering that the same year this album was made, Bowie was also working with artists like Iggy Pop and Lou Reed, producing some of their most heralded works (the Stooges'Raw Powerand Reed's Transformer). —Lorry Fleming

David Bowie Though one of rock's most influential figures, David Bowie's accomplishments are pocked by some distinct ironies. His willful efforts at being a musical and visual chameleon spurred triumphs in genres as diverse as folk, glam, new wave, and electronica. Given the dizzying range and success of his '70s incarnations—from Ziggy to the Thin White Duke to the gaunt, goth-cypher of Lowand Heroes—he seemed the artist most well-equipped to weather the changing tides of taste and trend, yet saw his career essentially shrink to cult status after scoring his biggest triumphs when he reshaped the soulless, dance-oriented club music of the early '80s into his own image. This 20-track compilation does little to address the Chinese puzzle that has been Bowie's post-'85 career, but it does deliver an artistically dizzying slate of hits as it skips from one early peak to the next, from evocative cabaret ("Space Oddity,""Changes") through muscular glam-rock ("Suffragette City,""The Jean Genie") to R&B ("Young Americans,""Fame") and post-punk flirtations ("Ashes to Ashes,""Fashion") to the dance-club hits ("Let's Dance,""China Girl,""Modern Love") and '80s one-off duets ("Under Pressure" with Queen, "Dancing in the Streets" with Mick Jagger) that essentially marked the end of his superstar reign. Whole eras and at least one classic '70s album (Low) go completely unaddressed, but all of Bowie's signature hits are here, as well as Earthling's powerful, underappreciated "I'm Afraid of Americans."—Jerry McCulley

David Bowie Pretty self-explanatory stuff, this, since Best of Bowiecollects most of Bowie's hits and a few of his more fetishised songs onto two CDs, rendering previous compilations—notably 1990's ChangesBowie—redundant. Of course, it's fantastic. For this is Bowie's pop genius shrink-wrapped: music notable for both its pretension and its accessibility, brimming with unignorable power and bespangled absurdity. Racing through these 39 songs from "Space Oddity" to "Slow Burn" (from 2002's relative return-to-form Heathen), the surprise is how coherent they sound next to each other. For someone so often portrayed as an artistic shape-shifter, it's the consistency of Bowie's vision that's most apparent, how he stamps his identity on every trend he comes across.

Like the Rolling Stones' similarly enjoyable 40 Licks, things do get a bit sticky towards the end of Disc Two, though there's mercifully nothing from the two Tin Machine albums. Obsessives should note, too, that the tracklisting of Best of Bowievaries from country to country: the albums have been compiled according to the most popular songs in each territory. Wonder which lucky place got "The Laughing Gnome" included on their version? —John Mulvey

David Bowie Of all David Bowie's many distinctive personae, none have done more to lodge this most ingenious of British artists in the world's consciousness than his 1972 amalgam of the alien visitor and Christ-like rock star: Ziggy Stardust. Cheap glamour, spacemen and ambiguous sexuality surface throughout the loosely conceptualised collection that is The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. If its premise sounds faintly ludicrous, then inspired and dramatic songs such as "Starman" and "Five Years" dispel all doubts about Bowie's genius, and the theatrically tragic "Rock 'n' Roll Suicide" brings the album and it's fictional protagonist to a close. As a cultural and musical signpost, Ziggy Stardust points simultaneously backwards to early rock & roll and forward to the simpler, tougher inclinations of late-1970s punk and New Wave rock. As one of the defining rock albums of the 20th century, its influence is immeasurable. —James Littlewood

David Gray Hardly anybody—with the notable exception of Irish songstress Mary Black, who subsequently turned out a rather splendid cover version of "Shine" some years later—bought A Century Ends, David Gray's debut album. Emerging in 1993, at a time when an uncharacteristically contented British public was bending its knees and twanging its braces along to the larksome antics of Britpop, there was little space on the living-room shelf for the torturous boudoir ponderings of a young-but-gnarly Dylan soundalike. There are pretty moments, but this is a record where angst and lust reign supreme——"Debauchery—"Debauchery" is a salty tale of having it away on a rug with an alcoholically-lubricated lady ferry boat operative (sung in a voice pitched somewhere between the Waterboy's Mike Scott and celebrated naval fish-finger salesperson Captain Birdseye) while "Lead Me Upstairs" is a courtship tale which dispenses with first-date niceties. Britain later changed its mind about David Gray—after all, more people in the UK own his 1998 album White Ladderthan own a ladder—but A Century Endsis a surprising rediscovery, a record begging further investigation for anybody whose idea of a good night in involves the solitary rolling of Rizlas along to Astral Weeksor Blood on the Tracks. —Kevin Maidment

David Gray A major artist in Ireland, David Gray has a loyal but somewhat smaller following throughout the rest of the world. Since his 1994 debut album A Century Ends, he has consistently produced quality, folk-tinged songs that showcase his one major talent—a raw yet melodic voice. White Laddermarks something of a departure from his usual fare, as it sees him embracing a more modern sound, adding interesting beats and electronic sounds to the more traditional acoustic guitar and piano. In trying to widen his appeal, he risks alienating his fan base, but tracks like "This Year's Love" and