Reviews

Pure pop perfectionists have got a ticket to Ryde and they don't care

Final demos of Alabama's doomed blue-eyed soul boy

Telex chap's 1977 Moog-driven disco mini album

Brad Pitt grabs a shield and gets all mythological

Ten-year-old Paul (Harry Eden) is at home in a world of pimps and pushers, bargain basement hookers and fly-blown market cafés. He has to be—since his widowed mother traded mourning for a regular numbing dose of heroin, it's been Paul who has kept the family running, even if that means fetching Mummy her 'medicine'. Gillies Mackinnon's drama is admittedly bleak, but excellent performances and restrained direction make this a rewarding, if heart-wrenching, experience.

A triple bill of iconic horror: Boris Karloff's Frankenstein's monster, Bela Lugosi's Dracula and Lon Chaney Jr's Wolfman. Admittedly creaky, these black-and-white chillers from the '30s and '40s still boast amazing gothic sets, mesmerising atmosphere and some riveting performances. More enchanting than scary, the best of them—James Whale's 1931 Frankenstein—appears here in its uncut form.

Timely reminder, in the midst of all the Kill Bill hyperbole, of true balls-to-the-wall Tarantino talent—that sickly mint-green warehouse, those black suits, that red blood, the infectious music, the terrifying Hawksian machismo and, mostly, that dialogue: witty and crude, poignant and allusive, naturalistic and downright poetic. Nothing less than genius.

A concept album of sorts, the second solo release from the Mekons founder and Chicago-expat charts the rise and demise of honky-tonker Lofty Deeds as a metaphor for US history. Like all things Langford, though, it's not heavy-handed or portentous, the music rollicking like a midnight special braced against the hard wind of his uniquely British delivery.

Agonisingly slow metal rituals

Six-track EP from rising Nebraskan noiseniks