When Scott Walker recorded this, his first solo album, he was 23 years old and sounded about two hundred. He was rich, handsome, absurdly famous-and he hated it. Though The Walker Brothers, the band his cavernous croon decorated, specialised in lavishly over-produced, heroically lachrymose ballads ("Make It Easy On Yourself", "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore"), any subtlety they attempted was being lost beneath the screams of their teenage audiences. Scott Walker took to spending his days in darkened hotel rooms and becoming steadily obsessed with the work of legendarily louche Belgian songwriter Jacques Brel. On the cover of Scott, a sunglass-wearing Walker stares tetchily at his shoes, as if the merest intrusion of a camera was, by this point, becoming intolerable. He needn't have looked so glum: the sleeve contained a masterpiece. Of the 12 tracks on Scott, three were written by Walker, three by Brel and the rest by other famously consumptive writers such as Tim Hardin and Kurt Weil. Walker sang all of them like they were his valedictory message to humanity, finding greater depths than ever in his awesome voice, and drenching the whole thing in great surges of strings. This is a classic, which generations of self-consciously misunderstood young men have clasped close to their hearts ever since. -Andrew Mueller.

Tom Waits's hipster persona began to evaporate at the beginning of the 1980s, but not before he released the transitional- but eminently worthwhile-Heartattack and Vine, which contained "On the Nickel", a Dickensian tale of street life, and "Jersey Girl," a song Bruce Springsteen gave a far wider airing to on his Live 1975-1985 box set. You can hear hints of Waits's style growing more trenchant on songs like "Downtown" and the stark, bluesy title track, which contains the immortal line "Don't you know there ain't no devil / That's just God when he's drunk. " Indeed. -Daniel Durchholz.

Lionel's decision to release a second hits compilation within a decade may have had something to do with the fact that sales of the first were overshadowed by a spousal abuse charge; unsurprisingly then, there isn't too much to distinguish this from the other one. Certain critics have commended Lionel for having spurned the whims of fashion and persisted with sentimental love songs like "Say You Say Me" and "Penny Lover", whatever the weather, and, listening to the tacky 1980s synths of the more upbeat "Running With The Night", it's hard to disagree. Lionel's obviously at his most comfortable with the power ballad-so much so that he has no idea when to exercise a little restraint. For all its baggage-the sickly video with that blind girl and its terrible lyrics-there's the chord structure to a good Charles Aznavour song trying to get out of "Hello", but it's drowning in syrup. Perhaps it's time for a reunion of the old band: the inclusion of "Sail On", "Three Times A Lady" and "Easy" (all Commodores songs) suggests as much. -Peter Paphides.

Radiohead's Hail to the Thief bridges the gulf between OK Computer's epic progressive rock and Kid A's skittering electronic theatrics, borrowing equally from each. Its title implies that this is a collection filled with songs of anger and dissent, but Radiohead no longer howl at the moon like they did on 1995's The Bends. Instead, they use eloquent metaphors and complicated arrangements to express the uncertainty, fear and anger arising from the 2000 US presidential election and a post-9-11 world. There's no doubt about where Thom Yorke and company stand; the prog-rock break on "2 + 2 = 5" and Yorke's terror at the thought of being "put in a box" make that immediately clear. But there's a prevailing sense of powerlessness here. The tinkling piano behind the cold sonic surface of "Backdrifts" and the brief, swooping melody in the middle of "Sail to the Moon" are islands in a sea of confusion. Like the band's best work, Hail to the Thief requires more than a few listens to fully appreciate, but those who stick around will be richly rewarded. -Matthew Cooke.

The Who Sell Out's pirate-radio concept goes south in the album's second half-the Who ran out of time before they could write enough faux commercials-but it still remains in many ways their best and most entertaining album. Pete Townshend and John Entwistle supply song after great song, and along with Keith Moon play them with power and focus. The classic single "I Can See for Miles" is matched on at least a handful of tracks, including the opening psychedelic-pop blast of "Armenia City in the Sky" (written by Townshend pal Speedy Keen), the hilarious social-interaction tales "Odorono" and "Tattoo", and the majestic mini-opus "Rael". This remaster's bonus tracks are occasionally too much of a good thing, but the Tommy rough draft "Glow Girl" is brilliant. -Rickey Wright The Who Sell Out's pirate-radio concept goes south in the album's second half-the Who ran out of time before they could write enough faux commercials-but it still remains in many ways their best and most entertaining album. Pete Townshend and John Entwistle supply song after great song, and along with Keith Moon play them with power and focus. The classic single "I Can See for Miles" is matched on at least a handful of tracks, including the opening psychedelic-pop blast of "Armenia City in the Sky" (written by Townshend pal Speedy Keen), the hilarious social-interaction tales "Odorono" and "Tattoo," and the majestic mini-opus "Rael. " This remaster's bonus tracks are occasionally too much of a good thing, but the Tommy rough draft "Glow Girl" is brilliant. -Rickey Wright.

Way back in 1980, the original wave of Talking Heads fans were pleasantly stunned to hear Remain in Light, produced and co-written by Brian Eno, on which Byrne and company are joined by guitar god Adrian Belew, and funk legends Bernie Worrell (keyboards) and Steven Scales (percussion), among others, for a fuller, funkier sound nobody imagined they had in them. The first three songs are long, layered, full-body dance parties, with incessantly repeated phrases (musical and lyrical), and increasingly catchy melodic hooks that won't let go for days. "Once in a Lifetime" was the big hit, but the rockingest track is the third, "The Great Curve", after which the songs get more linear and subdued. It's still great stuff, right through to the especially Eno-like droner, "The Overload", but the second half is maybe better to sleep to than dance to. Which is fine: after the exuberance of the first three songs, you'll need a little nap. -Dan Leone.

Canadian thrush Celine Dion is primarily a singles artist, which is a good thing, because the soaring, epic style she brings to nearly all of her material is thrilling in four-minute bursts, but nearly overwhelming at album length. Falling Into You is Dion's finest attempt to temper that approach-mixing low-key love songs and dance pop between showstoppers such as "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" and the Up Close and Personal movie theme, "Because You Loved Me". Dion's take on Tina Turner's Phil Spector experiment "River Deep, Mountain High" is game, but there's little doubt which singer hails from the Great White North and which one is from Nutbush, Tennessee. -Daniel Durchholz.

To say that Springsteen's live shows with the E Street Band were legendary is the height of understatement. On a good night, the set might extend to three and four hours of exhilarating, pulse-pounding rock & roll. How best to capture that on CD? Or was it possible at all? As it turns out, Live 1975-1985 comes as close to the experience as possible. Culling material from various tours, with settings ranging from small rooms to stadiums, the three-CD set emphatically displays Springsteen's charisma as a bandleader and storyteller and makes plain the sheer power of the E Street Band. Some of the many highlights here include covers of Edwin Starr's "War", Tom Waits's "Jersey Girl" and Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land" and rare versions of originals such as "Because the Night", "Fire" and "Seeds". And relax-all the hits are here as well. If you never saw Springsteen and the E Streeters back then, you might still get your chance. But this set chronicles a special time in the life of a special performer. -Daniel Durchholz.

If you want to plot a classic rise and fall pattern in the career of a band, look no further than the Pixies. This middle album, third of five, is the pinnacle of their noise equation: taut, terrifying and tightly edited, these 15 tracks (best known: "Monkey Gone To Heaven"; best quality, the insane "Debaser"; or the predatory "Hey") have the confidence that was missing from Come On Pilgrim and Surfer Rosa, but without the bloated pomp of Bossanova or Trompe Le Monde. Black Francis, as Charles Thompson IV was known then, surfs fast with his and Joey Santiago's guitars, tempered by the groundswell of Kim Deal's fine bass and counter vocals. It is like the last stand of US indie-dom: intelligent music encased in its precious, intricate and trademark Vaughn Oliver sleeve. Charlie Porter.

Forrest Gump (1994) is one of the most successful films ever made, winning Tom Hanks his second successive Best Actor Oscar (he won the previous year for Philadelphia) as well as claiming the Best Picture Oscar and many other awards and nominations, including several for music. A unique fable of American life from the 1950s to the 80s, the film blends comedy, drama, war, romance and groundbreaking special effects into a social and political portrait of the passing years, all seen through the eyes of the intellectually challenged but immensely likeable Forrest Gump. The soundtrack is a double album featuring 31 classic pop tunes plus a suite from Alan Silvestri's rich orchestral music, represented more completely on the companion score album. Opening with Elvis Presley's "Hound Dog", this is a fine anthology of three decades of American music, taking in everything from Joan Baez's "Blowin' In The Wind" to Aretha Franklin's "Respect", The Mammas and The Papas' "California Dreamin'" and Simon & Garfunkel's "Mrs. Robinson". Here also is Scott McKenzie with "San Francisco", plus Jefferson Airplane, the Supremes, Lynyrd Skynrd and many more. Like American Graffiti (1973), this is one of the great pop soundtracks, happily at home in just about any music collection. -Gary S. Dalkin.

The only element of sophomore slump in Steely Dan's second album was the disappointing sales response upon its initial release in 1974. Musically, Countdown to Ecstasy is even stronger than the Dan's terrific debut, pushing the musical envelope with more complex jazz harmonies and intricate time signatures, and carrying their lyrics into even more shadowy realms peppered with sci-fi imagery and street-level slang. The songs are stunning, from the opening blast of "Boddhisattva", a Zen boogie fuelled by Denny Dias's and Jeff Baxter's angular, bopping guitars, to the post-nuclear apocalypse of "King of the World". In between, they deliver the one-two punch of "Show Biz Kids", with its perfect snapshot of affluent decadence, and "My Old School", in which college daze is remembered through a collision of staccato guitar and blazing horns. -Sam Sutherland.

"Don't call it solo," says Thom Yorke of The Eraser, "It doesn't sound right". Here, then, is the first - hmm, let's say one-man record from the vocalist of Radiohead, an excursion in electronic beats and synthetic textures hailed by many critics as a return to Radiohead's 2000 album, Kid A. Strictly speaking, though, he's right - it's not solo: produced and "arranged" by long-time `Head producer Nigel Godrich, featuring processed sounds taken from full-band sessions, and featuring at least one song originally mooted for appearance on Hail To The Thief, it appears as much an opportunity for Thom to build on the ideas not fully realised on full-band releases. Rock fans may lament Radiohead's shifts away from guitar, bass and drums, but it's hard to deny just how well Thom's voice fits amid the hissy cymbals and spectral synthesiser of `The Eraser' and `Black Swan'. Guitar surfaces on the haunting `The Clock', Thom singing "You throw coins in the wishing well" over warped, droning folk, while album highlight `Harrowdown Hill' strikes a rare explicitly political note for Thom, a track themed around the death of UN Weapons Inspector David Kelly. -Louis Pattison.

Thirty or so of Stevie Wonder's biggest hits-many of them enduring classics-make up Song Review. That's the good news. The bad news is that they're sequenced here about as well (or maybe not) as your CD player's "random" function might do it. Leading off with "Part-Time Lover"-a major chart record, no doubt, but hardly the rouser you'd expect for an opener-is puzzling enough. It's when the programming starts veering from highlights of his self-produced period ("Sir Duke") to Motown assembly-line pieces ("My Cherie Amour") that the head-scratching really begins. And don't try to count the great moments that are missing. This will do in a pinch, but if you own no Stevie, be advised that better overviews of Wonder's career (the finest by far being the four-CD box At the Close of a Century) are available. -Rickey Wright.

Released to coincide with the duo's 2003 reunion tour, this two-disc anthology is no less than the fifth multi-disc compilation of the duo to appear in the CD era. If you're starting from square one, it's an excellent package, with all 16 of their singles to reach the Top 100 (including the 1975 reunion hit, "My Little Town"). The other 17 tracks include some of their most beloved non-hits ("Richard Cory", "The 59th Street Bridge Song", "The Only Living Boy in New York") and eight live 1967-1969 performances, none of them found in studio counterparts on this compilation, though all are drawn from previously released albums or anthologies. Some listeners might find some of their secondary Simon & Garfunkel favorites missing; "Anji", "April Come She Will", "Patterns", and "Punky's Dilemma" are absent, for example. But it's a good option for that niche audience looking for something between a single-disc greatest-hits collection and a box set. -Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide.

"I may be hungry, but I sure ain't weird," Don Van Vliet, a. k. a. Captain Beefheart, famously intones on this bright-sounding re-mastered version of the 1967 debut by Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band. Safe as Milk is a bold, tough-ass distillation of Delta blues stomp and 1960s garage-punk swagger, fused with a radically polyrhythmic and tempo-shifting style that one might term "art rock". Listening to the delightfully playful, absurdist "Abba Zabba", it's easy to see why Lester Bangs called Beefheart "the only true dadaist in rock"; the song is a good indication of the intricate, rule-breaking music the Magic Band would continue to hone. But there are also formidable ballads (the psychedelic "Autumn's Child", the lachrymose "I'm Glad"), mid-tempo pop-soul tunes (the Otis Redding-ish "Call on Me"), and straight-ahead blues-rock workouts ("Plastic Factory"), all of which showcase the fretwork of a young Ry Cooder. Much has been made of Beefheart's multiple-octave vocal range; he sings menacingly on "Dropout Boogie" and allegedly broke a very expensive microphone on the eerie "Electricity". The last seven tracks on this reissue (for the most part fascinating, unfinished instrumentals) were recorded with a different line-up; they are outtakes from Mirror Man Sessions. -Mike McGonigal.