Reviews

Second album of curious psych/hip hop follows eponymous 2001 debut

Previously only on import, this now gets a British release, because 80 per cent of the UK proletariat like singing along to: "And the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had." Especially during festive periods. And fair play to them, eh readers? Apparently reprints of Camus and Kafka are now outselling beer, and Lou Reed's "Berlin" is widely tipped for next year's Christmas No 1. A mad world, and no mistake. Michael Andrews' soundtrack is chiefly instrumental, dark and wilfully weird.

Debut from London quartet named after an Arlo Guthrie creation, not an Alec Guinness character. Sorry

'80s pop acts, from the winsome to the tonsorially challenged

SACD reissues of '80s electro monoliths

Two-fer of late-'60s synth-rock oddities. Not that odd, really

Beautifully realised coming-of-age flick

Imagine Ghost replayed as a slow, spiritually-charged polemic set in the bleak housing complexes of martial law-era Poland, and you're close to Krzysztof Kieslowski's 1984 drama. The spirit of a dead lawyer watches over as his young wife descends into grief and one of his former clients is pushed toward compromise to save his neck. In cinema terms, food for the soul—but it really needed Whoopi Goldberg and a potter's wheel to make it a hit.

The Merchant-Ivory formula finds a few new flavours in this picturesque cultureclash comedy. Naomi Watts and Kate Hudson play American sisters in Paris, stumbling as they try to adapt to the French mores regarding love, sex, family and money. Subplots include Matthew Modine cracking up convincingly. Elegant and urbane.

If you had Mötley Crüe down as vacuous poodle-rockers who never stumbled across an original idea in two decades, Nicky Sixx and Tommy Lee are here to put you straight on the interview section of this 21-track retrospective. What do you know? Turns out they were always punk visionaries who pushed the envelope of rock. Yeah, right. It should be funny, but the relentless sexism and homophobia eventually grates. Witless pricks.