What you make of Bon Jovi's seventh album largely depends on whether you believe Jon Bon Jovi really knows what it's like to be "two paychecks away from living out on the street". These Days is the songwriter's leap towards Springsteen immortality. He fails, but that isn't to say the album isn't the band's most interesting, diverse and artistically rewarding of their career to date. The first recorded without bassist Alec Jon Such, it needed the characteristics of a "second album", following as it did the professional and artistic renascence of Keep the Faith. What they've produced is a side-step, a progression, and not necessarily an obvious one. The title track is possibly their most mature effort, where "even innocence has caught the midnight train" and "there ain't nobody left but us these days". The dusty Americana of "Hey God" and "All I Want Is Everything" deal (almost successfully) with what can only be termed "social issues", whereas "This Ain't a Love Song" is one of their finest ballads. The hitherto unencountered diversity continues in the form of the highly charged brass of "Damned", which charts the anguish of infidelity, and in an ongoing religious theme, strangely absent from previous work. At 14 tracks it suffers, with the plodding "Diamond Ring" being an inexplicable and unforgivable inclusion, just as "Always" and "Someday I'll Be Saturday Night" were tacked needlessly on to their best-of Crossroad. Jon Bon Jovi might not be the Boss, but he sure is a king. [+]

Working Classical might just be the perfect outlet for the composing skills of Sir Paul McCartney. Here, the former Beatles (and, let's not forget, Wings) member scales things down from his previous classical-music endeavours-the overweight works Liverpool Oratorio and Standing Stone. In the hands of the Loma Mar Quartet chamber group and the London Symphony Orchestra, McCartney's shorter compositions sound all the more intimate (and effective). Album opener "Junk" is a simple waltz dating from the composer's days with the Fab Four, performed here by the Quartet with short-but-sweet results. "A Leaf" is another waltz motif, this one performed with a full orchestra. McCartney pop favourites "Warm and Beautiful", "Somedays", "She's My Baby", and "The Lovely Linda" all get chamber-music treatments that bring out their compositional beauty. And, while influences seem to range from Jan&áacute;cek to Morricone, there's no doubting that McCartney knows how to write a convincing ditty-pop or otherwise. -Jason Verlinde.

MTV Unplugged finds Dylan recasting 11 of his old songs, both famous and obscure. The most obvious example of how Dylan can transform his own songs is his new rendering of "The Times They Are A-Changin'. " When he first recorded it for the '64 album of the same name, the song was a clarion call to action, a triumphant promise that better times were just around the corner. When he performed it for MTV, it became a dirge-like march, a prophet's dire warning that the world is going down the tubes in a hurry. The new version opens with weepy dobro and funereal organ, and Dylan's slowed-down, low moan gives an entirely different spin to such phrases as "The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast," or "Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command. " -Geoffrey Himes.

In an attempt to ditch Collins's aural and visual image of doom and gloom, Dance Into The Light is his endeavour to move into lighter, more poppy territory, complete with colourful album cover. On a couple of the tracks, punchier musical styles are introduced, such as on the title track, with its African carnival-esque influences. There's even a pop cover of Bob Dylan's, "The Times They Are A-Changin", complete with synthesised bagpipes. However, expect no huge surprises as overall the album follows the musical approach of his previous solo albums, and more recent recordings with Genesis. If you enjoyed any of Collins's (or Genesis's) previous albums you'll want this one, but for anyone wanting an introduction to his music try his Hits collection or his solo debut Face Value. -John Galilee.

In 1977, Elvis burst out of the gate with a series of poison pen letters set to music. It was wordy, angry, and as catchy as a cold. And the man was prolific; he kept writing and recording like a man possessed, bringing forth a stream of great songs that showed not only an encyclopedic knowledge of music, but also a passion for it. From "Alison" to "Everyday I Write the Book" it was almost impossible to fault what he was doing, and even harder to select a few songs as better than the others. This best-of, which cuts off in 1986 with the Blood and Chocolate album, attempts that impossibility, and does a very good job of it. As good an introduction as there'll ever be. -Chris Nickson.

Gifted but apocryphally bereft of chuckles, Van Morrison tends not to conclude his albums with a list of "Carry On" film comedies, a whoops-a-daisy have-a-go yodel and a self-contented chortle of "I'm havin' too much fun". Until now. Magic Time has been touted as Van Morrison's best album in aeons. While this may be gilding the lily just a tad it's safe to assume - given the laughing-in-the-face-of adversity antics of "Carry On Regardless" and the jazz footsie of "I'm Confessin'" - that's he's mellowed to the point of miserable bliss. Every man's home is his castle and - as the passive blues solitude of "I'm Stranded" and the reclusive desires of "Just Like Greta Garbo" attest - Van pulled up the drawbridge some time ago. He sure aint working to anyone else's expectations (see the boogie of "Keep Mediocrity At Bay") but while Magic Time operates well within Van's comfort zone, tracks like "Celtic New Year" (imagine a folk soul "Midnight Train to Georgia") and the Latino cogitations of "Gypsy In My Soul" show that Van still has time for magic. - Kevin Maidment.

The growling, choppy guitar sample that opens the first track here, "It's My Life", is a virtual declaration of intent for the first Bon Jovi album in five years, a statement that they're updating the sound without abandoning the traditional virtues that made them one of the biggest bands on the planet. So make way for a hi-tech parade of smooth-but-gutsy rock anthems, almost any one of which will gladden the heart of every AOR radio programmer in the land. Unless the world has changed irredeemably, cuts such as the mid-paced heartbreak chugger "Say It Isn't So" are destined to become Bon Jovi standards, while an outbreak of scarf-waving and lighter-flicking is certain to accompany any live performance of the big weepy, "Thank You For Loving Me". Arguably, everything on Crush is done by the numbers, but with consummate pros like Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora at the helm, these are the kind of numbers you have to take seriously, because by the second time they kick into the chorus of any song it's damn near impossible not to sing along. -Johnny Black.

This latest missive in the Back to Mine series is a double cause for celebration, for it represents not only their 20th instalment but also twenty years in the business for the hosts of this particular slumber party: the Pet Shop Boys. The legendary synth-pop stars are therefore treated to two discs instead of the usual one, on which to demonstrate their personal influences and home-listening preferences. The two featured sets couldn't be more different. Neil's - a "sequence of music for late-night listening" - takes us through a lullaby land of classical vignettes, ambient electronica and soporific film music, while Chris's "songs about love, friendship, sex, religion, hope and despair," equates to a more upbeat set that takes in classic proto-house from Savage, The Flirts and Mr Flagio, Queen's "The Show Must Go On" and the campest disco song ever from Carl Bean. They are all considered choices, as well as being beautifully unpredictable, and the fact that they are immaculately sequenced makes for very satisfying listening. -Paul Sullivan.

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.