A patchy collection, but somehow all the more interesting because of it, Fly On the Wall is almost exactingly thorough in correlating all of Paul Weller's solo career B-sides onto three CDs (a few live cuts are absent) and also serves as a worrying reminder of how much the music consumer-and more importantly the musician-may stand to lose if the single format ever becomes a thing of the past. Sometimes unfairly maligned (and sometimes not) the B-side is the musician's opportunity for a little friendly informality or hopelessly misguided experimentation, perhaps even a chance to fulfil that long-cherished ambition to remix one's biggest hit in an acid-house style with Acker Bilk and a troupe of Senegalese drummers. Weller hasn't gone that far, but he's certainly game-Portishead's "pots and pans" drum sounds on "Wild Wood" now sound a little antiquated but it's a refreshing slant on one of his best songs while, less successfully, the Lynch Mob Bonus Beats remix of "Kosmos" is akin to being boxed around the ears by an army of amusement arcade machines. Fly on the Wall does contain an awful lot of instrumentals (much in the way of funky grooving, wah-wah-pedals and hysterical saxophonists but, alas, precious little in the way of pithy tunes), but these are counter-balanced by a generous portion of proper songs which may well have merited promotion to the status of album track. And never one to shirk from wearing his influences on his sleeve (and depending on your viewpoint, this is either Weller's strength or his Achilles heel), the third disc is given over to some entirely respectful and altogether more rockier cover versions of classics from Lennon, the Beatles, Sonny Bono, Bob Dylan, Tim Hardin and Neil Young. There's something solid here for Weller fans of all persuasions. -Kevin Maidment.

The W flashes out once again across the tenements of Shaolin like a sigil of hip-hop vigilance. From the get-go, "Chamber Music" signals a return to the grimy depths of the Wu's 36 Chambers debut, riding on an attack formation of clattering hi-hats and the rapid firing of arpeggio strings. "Careful (Click Click)" is an East Coast corollary to Dr Dre's "Bang Bang": the sound of an empty clip firing; dungeon sounds, jangling percussion and a flute that pervades the atmosphere like cyanide. Throughout the record, familiar soul breaks burst forth as unexpected adjunct to producer-for-life RZA's dread sounds, shaking their bones like skeletons in the closet. On "I Can't Get No Sleep", the epic soul sound takes centre stage, as a perpetual rewind of Isaac Hayes majestic orchestration for "Walk On By" is used as a widescreen canvas for Ghostface and RZA to deliver impassioned war reports from the frontline. (Hayes himself lends his grounded baritone to counter RZA's hysterical lyrical syncopation. ) Revolving around a sampled blues vocal, "Hollow Bones" recalls Ghostface Killah's "Motherless Child", while "One Blood Under W" pits sliced-and-diced samples from Portishead's "All Mine" against a soaring Junior Reid vocal. "Conditioner" features an unrepentant ODB drawling abstract nonsense, his ruff, gruff tones perfectly complemented by Snoop Dogg's softly-softly cameo. If you just let it, the back and forth of "Gravel Pit"'s clipped Enter The Dragon loop will get intravenous on your ass and permanently infect the bloodstream. Closer "Jah World" is a psalm that sings the praises of the Wu Divine pitted against Pekinpah sound effects that comes off like Peter Tosh's "Creation". [+]

Before Gomez got a taste for tequila and campfire blues there was the Alabama 3. Led by Reverend Dr D. Wayne Love, aided by the gospel choir of The First Presleyterian Church Of Elvis The Divine and the bleeps and beats that they call "sweet, country, acid-house music", their debut album, Exile On Coldharbour Lane, was both ingenious and intentionally comical. For the follow-up, La Peste, the humorous caricatures have been toned down-Dr Love is now just Rob Spragg-and the blend of hobo folk and electro eccentricity has been refined to the point of perfection. Spragg still does an amazing impersonation of a fallen preacherman looking for redemption with his Southern States drawl (although he's actually from Brixton, South London) and the bible-bashing parables of "Too Sick To Pray" and "Wade Into The Water"-coming across more disturbed than his previous slapstick incarnation. Even the hobo-house cover of The Eagles' "Hotel California" rates as inspired. La Peste is brilliant, beat-fuelled, Jack-Daniels-drenched hillbilly techno. -Dan Gennoe.

Led by the deep-toned Sen Dog and the deliciously adenoidal whine of B-Real and backed by DJ Muggs' beats-as thick as the smoke they inhaled-Cypress Hill-spun dope-fuelled tales of revenge, revolution, recreational drug use, gangbanging and cultural pride. Like R Crumb's Mr. Natural but with a hardened voice and a B-boy attitude, Cypress Hill slow-walked their funk-flavoured way through a minefield of anthems (the still sizzling "How I Could Just Kill a Man") and comic manifestos ("Stoned Is the Way of the Walk"). Heavy on the bass line and punctuated by flashes of wit and rage, Cypress Hill's joint was definitely one to draw deep on. -Amy Linden.

The Pet Shop Boys eighth studio album Release, though by no means the rock album they threatened, has certainly got enough guitar (courtesy of Johnny Marr) to raise a few snooty eyebrows among synth purists. But that's no bad thing; the duo has never really been an electronic band as such, and the guitars and percussion combine with the keyboards to create a sound that's as sumptuous as it may be unexpected. Neil's voice is far less nasal than it's often been, and the occasional application of that now ubiquitous vocal-wobbling effect (thanks, Cher) actually works very well; the trademark introspective lyrics, while occasionally straying into tweeness, are as poignant as ever. Though-with the exception of the Beatles-esque "I Get Along"-there are no big sing-along anthems here, and nothing that jumps out and screams "single", almost all of the 10 tracks are the kind of song that many better-selling artists would kill their grannies for. Release is a real return to the form that went slightly iffy somewhere between Behaviour and Nightlife; it deserves to catapult Pet Shop Boys back to the top of the album charts for a very long time, though it probably won't. -Rikki Price.

Actress Jennifer Lopez's debut album fails in its attempt to provide a worthy musical backdrop to her much-discussed diva-esque image. Over the course of 13 songs, On the 6 displays barely a glimmer of the verve, poise, and sensuality of her screen performances in the likes of Out of Sight. With little vocal talent to rely on, Lopez generally seems content to ape Madonna's middle register like any happy radio listener. Similarly, several of the tracks here seem too rooted in the Latin-lite clichés of "La Isla Bonita". With practice-more Lopez CDs will surely follow in the wake of 6's success-the star might develop into a singer worth reckoning with, but for now she stands as a wonderful actress and a musical artist with an unengaging album to her name. -Rickey Wright.

Silencing any suggestions that he is any less capable than his more high-profile Black Star partner Mos Def, Talib Kweli, along with DJ Hi-Tek, crafts a masterful debut with Reflection Eternal. Like Mos, Kweli displays an impressive range of styles and sensibilities-whether popping party lyrics on "Move Something", reflecting on the mysteries of the heart for "Love", or musing on hip-hop's death and rebirth for "Good Mourning". In comparison to Mos Def's status as a new funk soul brother, Kweli's more of a b-boy bookworm-erudite and articulate, but he can also let fly with fire and spark on the mic anytime. DJ Hi-Tek finally gets to show off his full range of production ability with a blend of hot, aggressive tracks ("Blast") and relaxed groovers ("Memories"). As good a debut as you could ask for. -Oliver Wang.