Stop the obituary column! If nothing else, Greatest Hits proves that Billy Idol lives. And no one seems more surprised-and naturally relieved-about that than the platinum-plumed, former Generation X man himself. Save a couple of cameo film appearances and rent-a-celebrity guest slots with the likes of the Who and Black Sabbath's Tommy Iommi, the last few years have been a downhill, demon-grappling descent into ill-health and white powder abuse for the motorbike-crashing, curly-lipped "Punk Elvis". And it's been that way since 1993's rotten, futuristic concept-album flop Cyberpunk. Greatest Hits not only features Idols' first new material in years (ok, so it's a cover of a song associated with Simple Minds, but this is actually a last-minute replacement for "Bitter Pill" which will now appear on his next studio album) but it also reminds us that in the 1980s, Billy Idol-and his never-mentioned-enough over-haired guitar-slinger Steve Stevens-had the populist touch with their America-friendly, melodious alloy of metal and polished-up punk. And that situation remains. "White Wedding", for instance, is now a record as ceremonially ubiquitous as Stevie Wonder's "Happy Birthday". And whilst "Rebel Yell" was never even slightly rebellious or even much of a yell, it certainly made for some energetic male bonding at certain over-lubricated Rugby Club social events (also included is a acoustic version of that song from LA's KROQ radio in Christmas 1993). Greatest Hits is the most comprehensive Billy Idol compilation available. Here's hoping his imminent comeback will contribute towards making his next compilation even better. [+]

Anyone who owned the vinyl copy of Live at Leeds will barely recognise its digitised namesake. While the 1970 record offered a mere six selections, the 1995 CD reissue is fleshed out with a full 14 tracks. Revelling in the augmented Leeds prompts one to wonder why in the name of "Heaven and Hell" they didn't put out a double record in the first place. No matter. This Live at Leeds is actually superior to its revered predecessor. The Who are at their Maximum R&B peak here, bringing an almost proto-metal aggression to supercharged covers of "Young Man Blues", "Summertime Blues", and "Shakin' All Over" (all from the original record) and treating fans to originals familiar ("I Can't Explain", "My Generation", "Magic Bus") and less known ("Heaven and Hell", "Tattoo", "A Quick One"). An improved-upon classic. -Steven Stolder There are only a handful of genuinely seminal albums, but The Who's Live At Leeds is undoubtedly one. Recorded in the comparatively intimate environs of the University Refectory, Leeds, in February 1970, the two-hour-plus show was heavily truncated and clocked in at a mere 38 minutes upon it's release as an album later the same year. Despite this, the album's six tracks showcased the thermonuclear dynamics that established The Who as the best live rock band in the world. [+]

"Many years from now" must have seemed like an understatement to 16-year-old Paul McCartney, wondering if he'd still be needed or fed at the age of 64. As it turned out, all doubt as to the latter had ceased by his 22nd birthday (though few could have predicted he'd end up washing down those meals with the liquid pride of Seattle). As to the former? Now that McCartney, as of the date of this album's release, has reached that mythic age, his greatest work is 40 years behind him, his solo peak over 30 years gone. Does the world need a new Paul McCartney album? The answer is yes, at least as much as it needs anything else that passes for music these days. With Memory Almost Full, Macca is back. No, it's not Ram or Band on the Run. It might not even be Flowers in the Dirt-in 1989, he had a full band, the support of Linda, and Elvis Costello as a collaborator. Here, he's on his own. Literally: on the majority of the tracks, everything but the strings is multi-instrumentalist Paul. But the surprise is that it's one of his freest, loosest affairs in years, sonically reminiscent of the Tug of War/Pipes of Peace era with nods to Abbey Road in the album-closing medley, McCartney's gravelly tones on "Gratitude," and 2007's version of "Her Majesty," the palate-cleansing "Nod Your Head. [+]

Van Morrison reputedly wasn't crazy about the idea of a greatest-hits package, and this set's haphazard programming-which leaps from period to period, style to style, tossing in two key singles by his mid-1960s band Them-speaks of his lack of involvement. Still, it rivals Moondance as Morrison's most popular album, and for a reason: like that classic, it offers one deeply soulful, spiritually and musically thoughtful track after another. Much of his more "difficult" work is ignored here; in fact, Best of. gives us an intriguing picture of a Van who's almost eager to please. -Rickey Wright.

It was Tender Prey that raised the delightfully unlikely spectre of Nick Cave the pop star. What was even better was that the song that damn near did it-"The Mercy Seat", quite rightly voted Single Of The Year in every music paper in explored space-was an epic litany relating the thoughts of a condemned prisoner awaiting his walk to the electric chair. "The Mercy Seat" is Cave and his Bad Seeds at their best: the former leavening his gothically mordant tale with grim wit ("A ragged cup, a twisted mop. the face of Jesus in my soup. ") the latter conjuring an appropriately demented squall of electric guitars and violins. Tender Prey, though a fine album on its own merits, can also be seen, in retrospect, as a massively important album for Cave: for the first time, he is unabashed about projecting his bleak and often misunderstood sense of humour onto the songs ("Up Jumped The Devil" hints at a facility for self-parody later fulfilled on Murder Ballads) and admitting to an ability to write as good a pop tune as anyone ("Deanna", the second single, a song about a suicide pact, which tended to inspire faintly surreal audience sing-alongs when played live). [+]

While the Calling don't blaze any new trails on Camino Palmero, they have revived the power ballad to give it their own emotionally charged spin. And if that weren't enough, they inject so many inspirational messages into the 11 songs on their debut that one could almost mistake them for a contemporary Christian band. Musically, this band stands proudly next to such earnest forebears as Creed, matchbox twenty, and Lifehouse (the latter makes sense given that Calling guitarist Sean Woolstenhulme's brother, Rick, is Lifehouse's drummer). With their brooding, contemplative lyrics about love, loss, rejection and revenge, the Calling embark on an anxious journey into the state of modern relationships. And while they don't offer any conclusions, they certainly provide an interesting mirror on an apprehensive time. Along with their sturdy musicianship and rhythmically driven melodies, this band very likely will enjoy a longer shelf life than most of their contemporaries. -Jaan Uhelszki.

Clapton had already established himself as a guitar legend by the time he released Slowhand. His heroin habit long behind him, Clapton's songwriting mastery was fully evident on the album, particularly in the stunning ballad "Wonderful Tonight". It fully actualised all of the potential hinted at in his earlier "Promises", and Clapton trusted himself enough to slow things down. Some of his most expressive guitar work can be found throughout this album, not just within "Wonderful". Ironically enough, Slowhand is probably best known for the hit "Cocaine"-built upon a simple repeated riff, the song had Clapton's trademark smooth voice with its wear around the edges, and yet another stellar guitar solo. Flashy runs and licks were never the most integral part of Clapton's catalogue, his blues background being the primary source for his sound. Slowhand, with its phrasings, both guitar and vocal, established Clapton as the possessor of one of the most extensive vocabularies in rock. -Steve Gdula.

Decades later it's a little hard to appreciate just how shocking Plastic Ono Band was at the time of its release. Yes, John Lennon's first post-Beatles solo album is still a must-own for any rock fan, but decades of punk, metal, and grunge have desensitised our ears somewhat to the naked howls of despair that fill tracks like "Mother", "Isolation", and "I Found Out". In addition, "I don't believe in Beatles," the climactic line of "God", doesn't have nearly the resonance as it did around the time of the Fab Four's break-up, when such a sentiment practically bordered on heresy. And yet it's a testament to the high quality of Lennon's songs that Plastic Ono Band continues to be an incredibly moving listening experience. -Dan Epstein.