As much as Jon Bon Jovi would like to consider himself the next Springsteen, he isn't, and the thought of a Bon Jovi record in any way being influenced by the attacks of September 11 is too horrific a prospect to contemplate. Luckily, on Bounce, the references are kept in the background and the album is neither overtly melancholy nor directly poignant. It follows 2000's disappointing Crush-an album that, with just one single, managed to keep their flame alive in the context of modern rock music by revisiting a style that they'd been trying to get away from since "Livin' on a Prayer". Here, they try to move on from this again, but unlike 1991's Keep the Faith, they can't quite pull it off. The album has, however, a distinct and deliberately contemporary feel-power chords instead of endless Sambora guitar noodling. The opener, "Undivided", hammers this point home, and "The Distance" and first single "Everyday" tell you that Bon Jovi can compete with the upstarts. The polar opposites of these are old-style tracks-the Jovi/Sambora cowboy partnership of "Right Side of Wrong" and, yes, the token ballads-none of which compare to "Bed of Roses" or "Always". If the band could produce an album as contemporary, slick and just plain good as Jon Bon Jovi's second solo offering, Destination Anywhere, then their future would be assured. More mature, sophisticated and modern than Crush, it will galvanise their slowly declining position for a while longer. It's a disappointment, of course, but a pleasantly surprising one. [+]

Quite how Squatney's finest heavy metal combo managed to bounce back from the commercial fiasco surrounding Smell The Glove and the US tour which found them supporting puppet shows at children's' amusement parks is anyone's guess. But here they are once more, with fire in their bellies. Or maybe that's indigestion. Break Like The Wind re-unites perm-headed poet David St Hubbins, confused tongue-waggling axeman Nigel "I'm a professional, I rise above it" Tufnel and jazz-oriented courgette enthusiast Derek Smalls for a record which, although hardly redefining the meaning of rock & roll, succeeds in not choking on it's own creative vomit, or anybody else's for that matter. For example, the totally ironic (of course) "Bitch School" hits back at critics who have accused them of being "too sexy", "Rainy Day Sun" is what The Kinks would sound like now if it was still 1965 (or something) and the over-inflated imperialist pomp-rock of "The Sun Never Sweats" is beyond words. This album finds Spinal Tap sounding young again-young again in a grown-men-trapped-in-the-bodies-of-13-year-old-boys kind of way (in fact, early school skiffle demo "All The Way Home" is also included here). A hit? This record should climb all the way up to Number 11. -Kevin Maidment.

The four discs in With The Lights Outencompass the career of one of those rare bands who genuinely changed things. When Nirvana climbed to number one in 91 with their album Nevermind, they destroyed forever the very concept of 'alternative', ending the rule that edgy and raw music was doomed to mere cultdom. With The Lights Outlooks at Nirvana's meteoric rise and abrupt implosion with the suicide of frontman Kurt Cobain through a glass darkly: the trajectory of underwhelming debut, glossy produced second album which merged punk fury with pretty melodies and third album where they dirtied everything up to prove they hadn't sold out is accurately presented but via demos, radio performances, live versions, B-sides and outtakes, the vast majority previously unreleased. It's part treasure trove (e. g. , unreleased worthy "Verse Chorus Verse") and half trainspotter fare (the band jokingly running through Terry Jacks' '70s corn-fest "Seasons In the Sun" on the fourth, DVD, disc). This is not the place for the uninitiated to start but this set will, for Nirvana fans, be the perfect closure to their glorious, sad career. -Sean Egan.

The four discs in With The Lights Outencompass the career of one of those rare bands who genuinely changed things. When Nirvana climbed to number one in 91 with their album Nevermind, they destroyed forever the very concept of 'alternative', ending the rule that edgy and raw music was doomed to mere cultdom. With The Lights Outlooks at Nirvana's meteoric rise and abrupt implosion with the suicide of frontman Kurt Cobain through a glass darkly: the trajectory of underwhelming debut, glossy produced second album which merged punk fury with pretty melodies and third album where they dirtied everything up to prove they hadn't sold out is accurately presented but via demos, radio performances, live versions, B-sides and outtakes, the vast majority previously unreleased. It's part treasure trove (e. g. , unreleased worthy "Verse Chorus Verse") and half trainspotter fare (the band jokingly running through Terry Jacks' '70s corn-fest "Seasons In the Sun" on the fourth, DVD, disc). This is not the place for the uninitiated to start but this set will, for Nirvana fans, be the perfect closure to their glorious, sad career. -Sean Egan.