Reviews

Three varieties of harmonic, overdriven bliss from the West Coast and Maryland

Proto-US hardcore from Jello Biafra and gang

Ill-starred, Badfinger's final album before guitarist/vocalist Pete Ham's suicide was designed to annoy. Made in 1975, it finally saw the light of day in 2000. Given the nature of "Hey, Mr Manager", "Rock'n'Roll Contract" and "Savile Row", the Welsh power poppers practically signed their own death warrant. Creatively, Head First reeks of insecurity and shifting tastes within, but its archly melodic, cynical elements could strike a chord with Super Furry Animals types. A period piece with added demos, this is the tarnished gilt on the '70s mirror.

30th-anniversary reissue for Julian Cope-inspiring prog classic

Inner-city ensemble comedy

When, in '91, this wasn't nominated for a best foreign film Oscar, nearly every living German director signed a protest letter. Agnieszka Holland hasn't since matched the story of a Polish Jew who pretends to be a Nazi in order to survive. Suspenseful and sensitive, it avoids traps which even Polanski's The Pianist falls into.

Kathryn Bigelow's lavish direction can't keep this creaky adventure afloat. Catherine McCormack is Jean, a photo-journalist researching a century-old double murder while rekindling her relationship to Thomas (Sean Penn) on a sailing trip. A cliché-soaked script and Liz Hurley's wobbly acting lends a made-for-TV ambience.

Probably the most wistful music you'll hear this year is on this debut album by Casino Versus Japan, which takes us back to the good old days when electronica wasn't afraid to be beautiful. Tracks like "The Possible Light" and "Summer Clip" have the same kind of warped grandiloquence as the Aphex Twin and Global Communications a decade ago: delicate melodic flakes magnified through a cosmic amplifier. On tracks like "Moonlupe", Vangelis is even brought to mind—and there's nothing illegal about that.

Nirvana bassist's triumphant return

Even if you remain immune to the dark charms of Joss Whedon's mighty Buffy The Vampire Slayer, you'll have noticed that some of us drone on about The Musical Episode from season six like it was the second coming of Abbey Road, Diamond Dogs and Closer. It is absolutely that and no less. The soundtrack, my most prized possession since someone burned it off a mobile MP3 laptop duck-billed web-pager for me (or whatever), is now officially released by popular demand, the first authentic use of the phrase 'by popular demand' since Disraeli's era.