It must have been a hard job enlisting someone to write to music for Young Guns II. There simply aren't many great songwriters capable of overblown rock ballads which keep a straight face long enough to move you. Jon Bon Jovi, though, is not without a certain pedigree in this department: "Livin' On A Prayer", "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead" and "Wanted Dead Or Alive" are masterpieces of the genre that deserve far more respect than received wisdom would have you believe. And the good news is that-on Young Guns II-there is plenty more where that came from. You may be familiar with the hit single "Blaze Of Glory"; it sounds positively restrained next to "Blood Money" and "Never Say Die". There is something tremendously likeable about Jon Bon Jovi at the best of times. Like his New Jersey(tm) role model Bruce Springsteen, the blue collar sensibility has weathered the ascension to superstardom. Unlike Bruce though, Jon Bon Jovi is more than happy to dash off unabashed epics for post-brat pack celluloid homages to John Ford, boasting titles such as "Justice In The Barrel" and "Dyin' Ain't Much Of A Livin'". In a profession already bursting with people who take themselves too seriously, this is undoubtedly a good thing. -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.

Based upon a play about Lewis Carroll's creepy obsession with the little girl who inspired his most famous heroine, Tom Waits' Alice is-contrarily-the sweetener of Blood Money's bitterly funny brew. Largely composed of weepily gentle and dreamlike ballads, Waits still cuts through the romantic mood occasionally but dramatically, as the opening title track's jazz-bar-at-3am love ballad is followed by "Everything You Can Think", a sea shanty anthem of nightmarish imagery. Storytelling dominates here, as well as an obsession with death. "Flower's Grave" ("If we're all to die tonight/Another rose will bloom") is a heartbreaking wise old man ballad; "Poor Edward" is a story of a boy with a devil twin imprinted on the back of his head that is funny and scary and pregnant with a myriad of double meanings; and "Fish & Bird" details love's misunderstandings by way of a doomed romance between a bird and a whale. And if that isn't enough beautiful madness for you, then "Kommienezuspadt" gives us a German punk vocal over something that resembles Disney's "Pink Elephants On Parade". Though released concurrently, Alice is less immediately gripping than Blood Money, but you suspect its mood-swinging swirl will hit every bit as hard over time. -Garry Mulholland.

Would lightning strike twice? Could it? The original, after all, was not merely a live album, but a fully-fledged cultural event-both in terms of sales and what it said about Diamond's popular appeal at that moment in time. Like Frampton Comes Alive (another phenomenon which inspired a belated sequel), it helped define a particular era in the hearts and minds of its audience. Fifteen years later, Diamond stepped up to the plate again, and while many of the expected favourites-"Song Sung Blue", "Sweet Caroline"-make reappearances, the set-list also featured some of the singer's later, less cherishable material. There's the lamentable "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" (sans Barbra, fortunately); the cringeworthy "Forever In Blue Jeans"; and "Heartlight", a song inspired by the singer's passion for ET. Age has lent Diamond a sort of crabby grace: this version of "I Am. I Said"-arguably, his "My Way"-actually surpasses the original, its brassy sense of defiance benefitting from the singer's maturity. But others ("Cracklin' Rosie", a perfunctory "Soolaimon") simply serve to diminish his original achievement. -Andrew McGuire.

Though The Proclaimers have been having hits since 1987, when "Letter from America" became an unlikely but welcome chart-topper, they have recorded only sporadically. So while the time feels right for a Best Of collection, this is mostly drawn from just four albums. In what is either an apology, or a genuine attempt to provide value for money, or both, three fine new songs are included, plus The Proclaimers' justly popular cover of Roger Miller's "King of The Road" (a collection of cover versions by The Proclaimers remains one of the best albums never made). What is clear from this 20-track retrospective is that The Proclaimers have not developed at all since they first picked up guitars. Craig and Charlie Reid seem to believe they got it right the first time, and it's difficult to argue otherwise. Certainly, there has never been anyone else like them: The Proclaimers have stuck doggedly to their guns, refusing to forsake their treacle-thick Scottish accents (a decision they sang about on "Throw The R Away") or their worldview (how many self-proclaimed rock & roll outlaws would dare to sing a song called "I Want To Be A Christian" or "Let's Get Married"?). In their perverse and obstinate way, The Proclaimers are about as rock & roll as it gets. These are simple and direct songs, but they're great simple and direct songs, performed with unashamedly earnest passion by two extraordinary singers-their harmonies merit comparison with those of the brothers Louvin or Righteous. The Reids' awkward appearance made them a staple of parodists, but the way they look should not distract anyone from the way they sound. Anyone who fails to weep at "Sunshine on Leith" is dead, or might as well be. [+]

Truth-in-packaging regulations are strained to the breaking point-some previous work with a former band was pretty darn "best" too-but if we're talking about Macca the Singles Artist, this compilation does highlight the many sides of a celebrated melodist, bandleader, and hit-maker-from the banalities of "My Love" to the electrifying buzz of "Jet". It won't win any stylistic cohesion awards, and followers will miss album tracks like "Picasso's Last Words" and "That Would Be Something". But All the Best collects the more popular Wings hits and throws in some necessary rarities ("C-Moon", one of many great B-sides that McCartney has thrown away), star duets (former friend, now-Fabs copyright-holder Michael Jackson on "Say Say Say"; Stevie Wonder on the inevitable "Ebony and Ivory"), live cuts (an un-Chipmunked "Coming Up"), and soundtrack odds and ends, like the freaky Bond theme "Live and Let Die". -Don Harrison.

If this is your first exposure to Eric Clapton, a bit of bewilderment would be in order. This is the legendary guitar icon. This is (as his early apostles once proclaimed) God. Ranging from the mid-80s through to the late 90s, The Clapton Chronicles owes less to the groundbreaking blues-rock of Clapton's 60s and 70s classics than to the polished-to-a-glare pop of Phil Collins, who produced one of the tracks included in this 14-song anthology. His reinterpretation of his greatest recording-the once-gripping, now-placid "Layla"-perhaps best illustrates Clapton at middle-age: Who wants to bask in his darkest period? Not Clapton, who converts his surging, purging charge into a soothing stroll. And perhaps not fans of such docile MOR fare as "My Father's Eyes", "Tears in Heaven" and the two new tracks, "Blue Eyes Blue" and "Get Lost". -Steven Stolder.

Here's what they say about Jeff Buckley: "He died too young". Here's why they say it: Grace is simply one of the most amazing things you can do with your ears and a little digitally-encoded disc. He inherited the voice of his father, the legendary Tim Buckley-seven octaves, each of them only just enough to cram his big feverish dreams into-but his music was all his own. Think Van Morrison's Astral Weeks on drugs-but then drugs could give some kind of comfort, and there's no comfort in Grace; just constant flux between crippling despair and an almost violent joy. When "Last Goodbye" unfolds it's third different middle-eight of Bollywood strings and Buckley's ecstatic scatting, it's hard to believe an ordinary human could have had a hand in something so extraordinary. -Caitlin Moran.

Note the track-listing: "I'd Lie For You (And That's The Truth)", "If This Is The Last Kiss (Let's Make It Last All Night)". Those titles alone would be enough to do an average singer in, let alone interpreting, emoting, living these songs as Mr Loaf is wont-in his inimitable way-to do. This successor to Bat Out Of Hell II: Back Into Hell, must confront the very same problem he faced years before, after the staggering success of the original: how to follow up a worldwide smash? How to avoid a nagging sense of the anti-climactic? Particularly given the absence, this time around, of songwriter and all-round svengali Jim Steinman. Admittedly, two of his cast-offs-"Original Sin" (from Paradise Lost) and "Left In The Dark" (from Bad For Good)-take up a little of the slack; otherwise, the void is filled by Diane Warren, power-ballad hitmaker for Whitney Houston, Celine Dion, et al. , whose penchant for orchestral flourishes, choral rhapsodies and wayward metaphors, exceeds even the master's. Preposterous, of course, but oddly hard to dislike. -Andrew McGuire.

As the Beatles' perpetual dark horse, Harrison rarely got the chance to write and sing more than one or two songs per album. But once the band split up, the former "quiet one" was quick out of the gate with a series of memorable hit singles that seamlessly merged his budding spirituality and an epic, Phil Spector-inspired pop sensibility. This collection, originally released in 1976, combines seven of Harrison's best-known Beatles numbers, including "Something", "If I Needed Someone", "Here Comes the Sun", and "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" with a half-dozen early solo hits including "My Sweet Lord", "Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)", "You" and "What Is Life". As such, it's a good entry-level Harrison primer. -Scott Schinder.

If Ricky Martin is the party boy of Latin crossover pop, Enrique Iglesias is a romantic traditionalist in the mould of his dad. On Escape, even his up-tempo, lust-driven tunes such as "Love 4 Fun" and "One Night Stand" are hardly the frantic sweat-fests Martin provides. Escape, Iglesias' first disc since his 1999 Top 40 breakthrough, is already a guaranteed success thanks to its first single "Hero". Title aside, this gooey love song isn't really fitting for its adopted purpose as a post-terror anthem ("You can take my breath away"), but one imagines that won't make much difference. Iglesias is at his best when playing a little sly, like when he appropriates Nelly's "E. I. " chant on "Don't Turn Off the Lights" or makes a barely veiled suggestion of what he really likes about you in the opening lines of "She Be the One. " -Rickey Wright.

Wingspan could be the collection that finally gives Wings the respect that they've long been due. Some people are wary of Wings simply because knocking them is the done thing. Others are dubious because they've actually tried listening to London Town or Red Rose Speedway all the way through. It's a truism that without a vociferous writing partner, Paul McCartney's sense of quality control could be rather lax, but it's easy to overlook how many fine tracks he and Wings produced from 1970 to 1983, the period covered on Wingspan. Compiling 40 of them on a two-CD set is a smart move-it allows you to purchase pretty much every post-Beatles McCartney song you could ever possibly want, all at once. The hits crowd together on the first disc, while the second cherry-picks album tracks and oddities; forget the inevitable "Mull of Kintyre", let "Maybe I'm Amazed", "Waterfalls" and "Back Seat of My Car" remind you of just what Paul McCartney could always do when he tried. -Taylor Parkes.

Never mind that Van Morrison is one of the most indelible songwriters of the 20th century-take each album on its own terms. On 1968's seminal Astral Weeks, a twentysomething Van Morrison can be found belting his gospelly, bluesy vocals in just as fine a form as he would be 20 years hence. In the sociopolitical context of the times, the album cried out about such ubiquitous 1960s themes as cultural oppression and social upheaval. But it is Morrison's vocal dexterity and passion that maintains such timeless appeal. Take tracks like "Madame George" or "Cyprus Avenue" and you'll find such beautiful mourning, it'll be clear why Sinéad O'Connor once publicly exclaimed: "Van Morrison should be friggin' canonized". -Nick Heil.