19-year old Scottish singer/songwriter Paolo Nutini sounds older than his years on his debut album, These Streets. It's not just his careworn, smooth-as-sandpaper voice, either (although, admittedly, it does help). It's more to do with the maturity of the lyrics, and the casual soulfulness of his delivery. "Last Request" is more the work of a vintage Motown singer than a teenager from Paisley, and it's to Nutini's credit that he carries it off with aplomb. And rather like the soul singers of previous generations, he manages to sing without a hint of hypocrisy about his own sexual exploits ("Jenny Don't Be Hasty") while also questioning his girlfriend's fidelity ("Alloway Grove"). It's the fact that he's so frank, and even a little bit naive, that he manages to get away with it. And though the stripped-down tunes on These Streets don't always immediately grab the listener (the title track, in particular), the songs where Nutini is accompanied by a full band often manage to evoke sunny-day American soul ("New Shoes", for example). This is a strong debut, and considering Paolo Nutini's tender years, bigger things can be expected of him in the future. -Ted Kord.

The Traveling Wilburys were one of the few supergroups that lived up to their promise, because they didn't try to. Things started inauspiciously when George Harrison, needing a B-side for a 1988 single, called in friends Jeff Lynne, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, and Roy Orbison for assistance. Two albums later-the second without Orbison, who had passed away shortly after the first was released-the loose-knit collective had recorded material that was as durable, and occasionally eclipsed, the participants' legendary solo work. The Wilburys succeeded due to a genial and contagious camaraderie that permeates both discs. What could have been a train wreck of ego clashes instead resulted in a frothy meeting of the minds. These guys are having a blast, trading lead vocals and harmonies on energetic folk-rock, quirky rockabilly, and Beatlesque pop that shimmers with the respect and esteem the members clearly hold for each other. Harrison and Lynne's rather slick production polishes off edges that might better have been left unvarnished, but there's no denying the loosey-goosey craftsmanship at work in tunes such as "Handle with Care," "End of the Line," and a striking Orbison performance on "Not Alone Anymore" that ranks with any of his finest. Both albums were million-sellers, but oddly went out of print for about a decade until Rhino resurrected them, adding two rare tracks per disc. The resulting package is a comprehensive overview of a once-well, twice-in-a-lifetime project that, especially after Harrison's passing, will never be repeated. -Hal Horowitz.

The Ultimate Who Collection kicks off with the three-minute pop gems of their early days such as "I Can't Explain", "Substitute" and the definitive anthem of the time "My Generation". "I Can See For Miles" heralds the band's coming of age preceding songs like "Magic Bus" and the classics from Tommy including "See Me, Feel Me" and of course "Pinball Wizard". Further highlights on disc one are "Summertime Blues" from the Live at Leeds album where Roger has never sounded in finer voice, and perhaps one of the best rock moments ever "Won't Get Fooled Again". Disc two includes less well known hits but does boast the best bits from their film Quadrophenia. Still as powerful without the visuals, they attack "Love Reign O'er Me" like they really mean every single note and word. During the 70s they toned down the raw rock they captured at the turn of the decade and embraced the pop sensibility of their youth, settling for a handsome blend of very British guitar pop and solid power chords best defined by "You Better You Bet". Unlike the Beatles or Rolling Stones, The Who's image has remained anti-establishment despite being no less gentrified than their wrinkly peers, probably due to their music sounding as angsty and passionate now as it did over 30 years ago. -David Trueman.

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.

What's left to be said about Andrew Lloyd Webber's adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera a decade after its premiere? That it's maddeningly ubiquitous? A stitch-up of various themes shoplifted from the Italian operatic repertoire? A critic-proof crowd pleaser that's probably being staged somewhere in the world as you read this? A mega-hit that will likely outlive Titanic in the pop-culture pantheon, Phantom has largely redefined-for better or worse-the manner in which modern musicals are conceived, staged and marketed. Its influence has reached far beyond the traditional confines of London and Broadway. A favourite example: an abridged version that was the centrepiece of Los Angeles' longest running transvestite revue, replete with 14-inch chandeliers and a man-playing-a-woman-playing-a-man in the title role. -Jerry McCulley.

If the art of the female singer-songwriter revolves around coffee table soliloquies then Eye To The Telescope-the debut album from Edinburgh-born chanteuse / guitarist KT Tunstall-is a pleasing mediation between the traditional demands of brooding egocentricity (espresso) and frothy commerciality (cappuccino). KT Tunstall has star quality. "Suddenly I See" is an effortlessly liberating pop fillip while, conversely, "False Alarm" redresses Abba's "The Winner Takes It All" for losers who had nothing to lose to begin with. However, Tunstall isn't entirely convinced by the compromise ( "I'm struggling to cater for the space I'm meant to fill" she sings) and "Miniature Disasters"-one of several strong numbers showcasing her aptitude for wrapping up pop tunes in either folky bluesiness or ponderous jazz-catalogues her desires for unfettered self-expression. The opening cut "Other Side Of The World" might sound like Dido without the giftwrapped grief (she's none too flattered with the comparisons) but Eye To The Telescope is spiritually closer to Carol King and Elvis Costello than Katie Melua. And that's no bad thing. -Kevin Maidment.

Whilst one suspects some kind of pre-millennial hysteria prompted Q magazine's readers to vote OK Computer The Greatest Album Ever Made scarcely five months after its release, it certainly doesn't look stupid up there in the pantheon. Following the hot red rock attack of 1995's The Bends, OK Computer heads out into the cold deep space of prog-rock and comes back with stuff that makes mere pop earthlings like Stereophonics tremble. Whilst the eight-minute-long "Paranoid Android" comes across like "Bohemian Rhapsody" with a gun held to its head, and "Electioneering" is a little too like a kiddy-version of Blood And Chocolate-era Elvis Costello to be truly revelatory, the rest of OK Computer spans the sublime to the ridiculously sublime. Thom Yorke had been obsessed with Ennio Morricone during the recording of the album (in a haunted mansion, fact-fans), and it shows on the expansive space-dream of "Subterranean Homesick Alien" and the endlessly comforting closer "The Tourist". And if neither "No Surprises" (played on a toy guitar with Yorke and Ed O'Brien harmonising like a two-man Crowded House) nor "Lucky" (recorded in one day for the Bosnian aid album War Child-it reduced Yorke to tears the first time he heard it played back) make the hairs on your skin spit with electricity, then maybe you're with the Q reader who voted for Anita by Anita Dobson. -Caitlin Moran.

After the massive success of Pablo Honey-or, more specifically, the single "Creep"-had made them a household name, most had written Radiohead off as one-hit wonders. That they could return with an album as awesome and monumental as The Bends, therefore, must have been particularly unexpected. Not that Pablo Honey is a bad album, but rather, when compared to the epic grandeur of The Bends, it's obvious that the five Oxford-based boys had matured immensely since the release of their debut. "High And Dry", "Just", "Street Spirit", "Fake Plastic Trees": nary a pop song among them, yet it's testament to their greatness that they all were hit singles. And really, it's easy to see why: Thom Yorke's falsetto crying over a wall of acoustic and electric guitars, as lyrics and music blend to create a masterpiece of melancholy beauty. The Bends is one of the most essential albums of the 1990s, and a spectacular indicator of further greatness to come. -Robert Burrow.