The aptly titled sophomore outing, Machine, is the worthy, if expected, follow-up to Static-X's debut, Wisconsin Death Trip. The intense, mechanised, futuristic metal found here comes across as a thrash version of Orgy, with a dollop of Ministry and a dash of Powerman 500 tossed in for extra punch. The intense, short bursts that are "Get to the Gone" and "This Is Not" are forceful and demanding, thanks to Static's growl-scream and the rhythmic power of the music. The spooky "Cold" and epic album closer, "A Dios Alma Perdida", would be suitable for a horror-movie soundtrack, while "Otsego Undead" kicks off with a welcome organic drum sound, though the song never really goes anywhere-a problem that resurfaces throughout Machine. Indeed, the album's revved-up vibe, monster riffs and irresistible energy are all ultimately held down by a dearth of memorable songs. -Katherine Turman.

It may have been a bit overzealous of SOiL to call their third album Redefine, because there's no radical change of direction here. The rock is still heavy, and still hugely influenced by the American post-grunge scene (and, especially, Alice in Chains). But, to their credit, rather than a complete redefinition, Redefine does successfully re-position SOiL ahead of their peers. While bands such as Staind and Puddle of Mudd continue to retread sub-Pearl Jam grunge-lite, SOiL aren't afraid to rock-even when they try for a radio-friendly ballad ("Remember"), they amp it up and thrash out. And while Ryan McCombs' vocals do owe a massive debt to the aforementioned Alice in Chains, there's also wider evidence of rock's past and present here ("Cross My Heart" hints at early Metallica, while grooving like Korn). Album opener "Pride", meanwhile, is as anthemic and mosh-ready as Drowning Pool's "Bodies". This is not so much Redefine as recycle, but at least SOiL have chosen their sources wisely. -Robert Burrow.

1984 was a successful record not only because it contained solid, catchy hard rock, but also because it incorporated synthesisers into the mix, the first metal album to do so to any serious extent. Although the advances in electronic music make this material sound dated now, it's still a highlight of Van Halen's career. Songs such as "Jump" contain a pop element that gave 1984 mainstream appeal, and David Lee Roth turned the frontman role into an art form on songs such as "Panama", "Hot for Teacher", "Drop Dead Legs" and "I'll Wait". To a large extent, it was 1984 that set the standard for 1980s pop metal, and David Lee Roth who set the standard (or takes the blame, depending on your point of view) for the aggressively good-time attitude most pop-metal bands took for their own. -Genevieve Williams.

It's clear that we're in for something a bit special when The Wildheart's open their new album - also called The Wildhearts - with an expansive nine-minute opus named "Rooting For The Bad Guy. " Never ones to be afraid of bold statements, the song nonetheless signifies a sterling return to form, achieved in part perhaps by the reunion of guitarist CJ Chris Jaghdar and drummer Ritch Battersby - the first time they have played together on the same record since '95's Fishing For Luckies. New recruit Scott Sorry (formerly of Brides of Destruction) fits in eerily well too, helping the album maintain it's twin traits of energy and melody throughout. Big songs like "Slaughtered Authors," and first single "The New Flesh" are alluring enough, boasting a clean, bright sound and oodles of typical Wildhearts brio, while a more introspective side comes out on "Bi-Polar Baby" and "Inner City Overture. " "The Revolution Will Be Televised," meanwhile, combines a paraphrased Gil Scott Herron song-title with riffs borrowed from The Clash's "I Fought The Law. " While certainly not flawless, this is without a doubt the most consistently visceral Wildhearts LP for a while. -Danny McKenna.

"You either love or you despise, there's just no room for compromise" spat Anglo-French bassist Jean-Jacques Burnel on "Burning Up Time". And by the time of No More Heroes-the Stranglers' second album-the battle lines were drawn between those (the press and the women's movement, mainly) who saw the future "Meninblack" as uncouth sexist pigs peddling aggressive punk Doors music and those for whom The Stranglers were a fantastically melodic, intelligent punk-rock combo, albeit one with a dangerously dry sense of humour and a swift-fingered, pipe-smoking keyboard player. The former had plenty to complain about: Elderly aunts up and down the land must have fainted the day an unwitting Dave Lee Travis played "I Feel Like A Wog" ("out on the dirty shitty jobs") on Radio One, so it's probably just as well they never got to hear the teacher-pupil relationship smut of "School Ma'm" (most unsavoury line-"disgusting behaviour, all over the parquet flooring") or the infamously rude "Bring On The Nubiles", which was chanted like testosterone-charged Daleks and featured the word "fuck" eight times. Musically, The Stranglers were on a roll-Dave Greenfield's use of Hammond organ and Moogsynth coupled with Burnel's sonorous belch of a bass and Hugh Cornwell's not-bothered vocal made them instantly recognisable. And at least half of No More Heroes is every bit as good as Rattus Norvegicus (in fact, most of the album was recorded at the same time). It's also the only Stranglers album to spawn two Top 10 singles, namely the gutteral call-to-arms of "Something Better Change" and the iconoclastic title track-a genuine rock classic. -Kevin Maidment.