A bit grunge, a bit metal and a whole lotta rock & roll, 1992's Blues for the Red Sun may well be the finest album by short-lived rock gods Kyuss. With guitars tuned way down and amps turned way up, Blues for the Red Sun practically deafens in its assault, switching from light melodies to hammering riffs in a blink on some tracks ("Thumb", "Thong Song") or slowly building to a high volume release on others ("Freedom Run"). When they do achieve full rock bliss, they do so unrelentlessly-"Green Machine" practically thrashes out for an atypical (for Kyuss, at least) three-and-a-half minutes. Updating Black Sabbath's heaviness by way of Arizona desert psychedelia and epic jams, Blues for the Red Sun established the blueprint for the entire "stoner rock" movement. Even Kyuss never matched it, let alone beat it. -Robert Burrow.

Dreamland is Robert Plant's first solo album-in name at least-for nigh on a decade. Plant's latest backing band-who toil under the slightly naff cabaret-circuit moniker of Strange Sensation-have a lithe and serpentine approach to fusing American revivalist folk with the blues and modernist alt-rock (Plant even namechecks the Flaming Lips as an influence)-all this in spite of the fact that they are drawn from such non-Kerrang!-subscribing musicians as Porl Thompson (The Cure), Justin Adams (Jah Wobble), Clive Deamer (Portishead) and John Baggott (Portishead, Massive Attack). Occasionally, this spontaneity finds them following their investigative noses down a blind alley-"Hey Joe", for all its free-form psychedelia, has "jam session" written all over it-but these trifling shortcomings are eclipsed by the hauntingly meditative "Morning Dew" (Bonnie Dobson's flicker of light in the darkness of 1960's nuclear war neurosis) and terrifically reinterpretative versions of familiar standards and neglected jewels, particularly Tim Buckley's "Song to the Siren" (with warm Arabian strings) and an Anglicised-roots-via-heavy-rock shuffle through Bukka White's "Fixin' To Die". Often, covers albums are rot-stopping attempts to stall for time issued by dried-up "has-beens" but Dreamland exudes devil-may-care, barrier-smashing self-belief. -Kevin Maidment.

The thirteen songs on this early Best Of collection take us from Rea's 1978 debut to the Dancing With Strangers album. New Light has since been superceded by The Best Of Chris Rea, which also includes material from Auberge and The Road To Hell. This selection, however, is in some ways preferable, since the songs all exhibit the looser performing style of his earlier years and their mix of soul, classic rock and MOR schmaltz sit together more naturally. Like his fellow Northeastener Robert Palmer, Chris Rea is hard to pigeonhole: if not a great guitarist he is at least very gifted, with a warm style that borrows from Keith Richards and Eric Clapton. Apart from the timeless "Fool (If You Think It's Over)", his songs tend towards the derivative, but his voice is rich and charming enough for this not to matter. Lyrically, he is always honest and unpretentious, and his evocations of his Middlesborough childhood, in "Windy Town" and "Steel River", are genuine urban romance. Rea has few real competitors in the art of the corny love song, and "Josephine" still runs away with the prizes. New Light is best heard by candlelight with a glass of red wine-throughout, it is beautifully produced, intelligent and exceedingly mellow. -James Swift.

My Generation, The Who's first album, has little of the roaring, raging quartet heard on Who's Next, Live at Leeds and Quadrophenia. But the Mod-fuelled, American R&B-inspired sense of ambitious pop that powers A Quick One, Sell Out and even Tommy isn't so hard to find here. This reissue not only expands the original with a bonus-disc treasure trove of 17 outtakes and rarities (including the Pete Townshend-penned, previously unissued "Instant Party Mixture"), but has been remixed from the original 1964-6 session tapes by producer Shel Talmy and released in true stereo for the first time. Anchored by early Who/Townshend anthems "My Generation" (also included in an instrumental version), "I Can't Explain" and "The Kids Are Alright", disc one's original LP set veers somewhat schizophrenically from Townshend's nascent power-guitar thrashing on the anthems and Roger Daltrey's ill-advised James Brown and Bo Diddley impressions on "Please, Please, Please" and "I'm a Man", respectively, to the surf-inspired John Entwistle-Keith Moon instrumental showcase, "The Ox". Not surprisingly, it's the Townshend originals (like "It's Not True", "Legal Matter" and the proto-psychedelic "Circles") that point to what the band would become in a few short years. The bonus material on disc two leans equally heavily on covers, but also contains its share of signposts to the future Who, including a rare, alternate version of "Anyhow, Anyway, Anywhere". Also included is a new booklet with many rare photos and a history of the album's recording by Andy Neill (coauthor of Anyway Anyhow Anywhere: The Complete Chronicle of the Who 1958-1978). -Jerry McCulley A glowering cover photo, on-the-run sound quality, and music to match. That's My Generation, and while it's hardly as consistent as The Who Sell Out, it's just as much fun to play. With the band steamrolling the title anthem, "The Kids Are Alright," "A Legal Matter," and a couple of James Brown covers, you can bet it was for them, too. [+]