The signs were good. He'd been getting into Neil Young, smoking joints and making pilgrimages to Nick Drake's grave, but nothing could have prepared us for quite such a return to form. The mood was autobiographical, most notably on "Has My Fire Really Gone Out" and the title track-both of which dealt with the writer's block that plagued Weller after The Style Council. And yet, Wild Wood is anything but morose: flutes and sundazed guitars adorn more pastoral moments; "Shadow Of The Sun" takes stock of youthful idealism and finds redemption in the wisdom of years; and "Sunflower" remains a superlative burst of psychedelic powerpop. But more than actual songs, it's the instrumental passages and interconnecting refrains that truly reveal their author's attention to detail-and give Wild Wood an edge over the rest of his solo material. -Peter Paphides.

This album, with which the singer reached his commercial peak, reflects Chris Rea's love/hate relationship with the car. The title track is famously inspired by Rea's experiences of the M25, but this is not a simple tract on the evils of the automobile-in 1988, he bought himself a racing car. His vision of hell is the traffic jam that stops you from using all that expensive acceleration. In this sense Chris Rea-the epitome of maturity compared to most in his business-shows himself still very much a rock star. The Road To Hell, despite the melancholy piano riff of the song itself and its Leonard Cohen-ish lyrics, is an optimistic album with a warm, embracing sound. This album is graced with some of Rea's finest creations: the spacey "Daytona", the topicality of "You Must Be Evil" and the catchy "That's What They Always Say". "Texas" is another witty commentary on the need for speed, and like many of the tracks on this disc it has the mellow groove that Rea has made his own. On The Road To Hell, Rea successfully marries the philosophy of the family man with the ethos of a rock star, in a way that many other forty-something crooners can only envy. He also marries a measure of self- expression with real commercial success: his first number one album, The Road To Hell went triple-platinum. -James Swift.

Technically, it was Paul and Linda McCartney, since this album was very much a collaboration between them. Some of the material was of the standard we expected ("Monkberry Moon Delight," "The Backseat of My Car," "Uncle Albert/AdmiralHalsey"), but somehow it all seemed entirely too whimsical, as if they'd spent a bit too long isolated on the farm. It was the expectations that were the problem, of course. Paul was simply making a lighthearted album, and we wanted earth-shaking pronouncements. Take Ram on its own terms (i. e. , fun), and it's throughly enjoyable. -Chris Nickson.