One of rock's most overlooked masterpieces, this third album by the L. A. folk-rock outfit led by inscrutable singer-songwriter Arthur Lee sounds as fresh and innovative today as it did upon its original release in 1968. With David Angel's atmospheric string and horn arrangements giving the work a conceptual underpinning, Lee explores mainstream America's penchant for paranoia ("The Red Telephone") and violence ("A House is Not a Motel") with songs that are as sonically subtle and lilting as they are lyrically blunt and harrowing. Add two gems by Love's secret weapon, second guitarist Bryan Maclean ("Alone Again Or" and "Old Man") and you've got one of the truly perfect albums in rock history. -Billy Altman.

Although Love Is Here, Starsailor's anxious, soulful folk and urban blues nuanced inaugural album will be less of a culture shock to any scene-follower who experienced, say, Tom McRae's debut from 2000, it will certainly jolt the core beliefs and common cultural values of the British indie scene. Nothing about Starsailor is remotely alternative-at least not in the conventional interpretation of the word-nor perfunctorily fashionable or juvenescent. Cool dads will appreciate them every bit as much as the hip kids. After all, not only is tender-aged singer James Walsh proud to admit to being influenced by Van Morrison and Tim Buckley-blimey, it's like punk never happened-he is also gifted with a larynx as gnarled, emotionally articulate and demonstratively tremulous as the all-time great and latterly underrated Roger Chapman. Debut or no debut, Love Is Here is an assured classic, the exposition of impending mid-life crises and buttoned-up desperation (typical lyric: "I need to be alone while I suffer") conveyed through an impassioned and distinctly non-rock lexicon of shuffling jazz percussion, metronomic acoustic guitars and keyboards which veer-Ray Manzarek style-between decorative cocktail piano and ice rink organ (courtesy of former crematorium organist Barry Westhead). The gooseflesh frisson of "Tie Up My Hands" and "Poor Misguided Fool" is palpable, the taut, dispirited burnout of "Fever" and "Talk Her Down" fantastically lucid. Are Starsailor the future of British pop? Let's bloody hope so. -Kevin Maidment.

Stars draws together, chronologically, the Cranberries' very best work. Their worldwide hit debut album is represented by the soft Celtic lilt of "Linger" and "Dreams". The follow-up, No Need to Argue, contributes five tracks, including the grungy "Zombie", while the anti-drug treatise "Salvation" and the street-corner-style "When You're Gone" appear from To the Faithful Departed, along with "Hollywood" and "Free to Decide". Both 1999's Bury the Hatchet and 2001's Wake Up and Smell the Coffee feature strongly as well, the latter being marked by the new-found contentment of the band's hitherto spiky vocalist Dolores O'Riordan. As often with best-of packages, previously unreleased material is included, but as fans will know, the main reason to possess this CD is the Cranberries' unique combination of agonised love songs, vicious invective and beautiful melodies. -Dominic Wills.

For such a boldly titled and apparently driven attempt to reinstate Michael Jackson at the centre of the pop world, Invincible is a listless thing. Split between scratchy funk workouts and mid-tempo ballads that might have appeared as Bad B-sides, the album plays on and on while never seriously promoting dancing or romancing. Its handful of weird moments-the resurrection-by-tape of Biggie Smalls on the bridge of the title track, for instance-are hardly large-scale bizarre like the first disc of HIStory. The title track turns out to be hardly the rampant ego-fest you'd imagine; instead, its subject is a female whom Jackson cheers on. Likewise, the most ear-catching moments of the "comeback" single "You Rock My World" come with Chris Tucker's jivey introduction. Despite a debt to "Payback"-era James Brown, "Rock" floats away like steam midway through. It's almost a relief when the old self-regard turns up: on the growling "Privacy", Jackson rants about muckrakers "stalking" him in search of "the stories you need to bury me", all this long after foundering divas and troubled boy-group members have replaced him on tabloid covers. The man may occasionally break away from the mirror, but he seems unsure about where else to find inspiration. -Rickey Wright.

The Sugababes' outstanding debut album, One Touch, shines through like a beacon in the morass of bland, indistinguishable girl-group pap that is being released with alarming frequency at the end of the 20th century. "Overload"-one of the finest singles of 2000-was a surprise hit for the young band, and proof that while record companies may spend millions marketing their "next big things", inevitably the good will out. The Sugababes are a girl group of the old school, invoking a sound and attitude reminiscent of the Shangri-Las or the Ronettes, striking the perfect balance between attitude and innocence-the same qualities that made the All Saints' debut album so impressive. Of course, "Overload" is here, and it's still their best song. And the second half of the album is a bit patchy. But tracks like the catchy "Soul Sound", the funky "One Foot In" and the ballad "Look At Me" all provide ample proof that One Touch is an altogether impressive debut. -Robert Burrow.

Bare, Annie Lennox's first album of original songs in 11 years, is a stylish tour de force that showcases the former Eurythmics chanteuse in all her chilly, shimmering splendour. Her formidable voice is still a supple and intriguing instrument, lithely shape-shifting between emotions, personas and musical forms. Lennox moves effortlessly from the sparse and pristine lament of "A Thousand Beautiful Things" to the deceptively simple "Pavement Cracks", a solemn ballad that is transformed by electro dance beats that recall some of the best of the Eurythmics. But Lennox's quixotic voice is best utilised as an old-school soul instrument; she makes a metaphorical journey to Motown on "Hurting Time", a reflective ballad that could have been lifted off a Miracles album. "Honesty" finds the Scottish diva at her well-mannered best, occupying the sophisticated space formerly held by Carly Simon. -Jaan Uhelszki.