velop their own personality. Of course, they pull it all off with panache, but the songs are lacking.

The clunker of the season has to be Joe Cocker’s latest phlegm-fest, Night Calls (1), an ersatz collection of his usual bluesy reworkings of material ranging from Elton John’s ‘‘Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me’’ to Blind Faith’s ‘‘Can’t Find My Way Home.’’ The soft and smooth from Joe: s.vai hen-he.lets.

of who-do-ya-call-em. It’s a surprisingly emorable set of songs, from the jaunty Buitar chords of ‘‘Certain People I Know”’ 0 the touching balladry of ‘‘I Know It’s onna Happen Some Day.”’ Morrissey is he object of adoration by a subculture lying for a genius--unfortunately, this hin’t one. But Your Arsenal hits its mod- Pst mark and should be latched onto by his ans like a cozy security blanket. The new Singles soundtrack (7) potlights the current sound du jour: the beattle metal scene. The sound, as I’ll all it, can hit like a fucking hammer, but de lack of variation and ponderous tem- POS can test the endurance. Still, their hit (especially Pearl Jam’s) is some- imes brilliantly arranged, and unlike most metal, they do rock. Singles presents S with nice small doses of a genre that’s best experienced in small amounts. Add- ng variation to the soundtrack are two 00d new songs from former Replace- ents singer/songwriter, Paul Westerberg, and ,less logically, acarbon opy of Led Zep’s ‘‘Battle of Evermore”’ ud straight offa Are You Experienced, ‘May This Be Love.”’

Burning Questions Graham Parker The follow-up to last year’s exceptional yy Lightning, Graham Parker’s rning Questions, continues in same vein with his usual brand ongued love songs and compul- play. Warm, punchy pop, kindof otsy Attractions, Questions is of his more varied albums, as ¢ lovely strings of ‘‘Long Stem is best album since Squeezing

More’s latest, Angel Dust, real- deas presented on their some- iteresting but so-so 1989 effort, al Thing. A powerful hybrid of funk, metal, rap and soaring pop harmo- nies, the album climaxes with the trio of “*Small Victory,’’ ‘‘Crack Hitler’’ and ‘*Jizzlober,’’ each song more furiously intense than the one before. Potent stuff.

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Kiko

Los Lobos Yes indeed, the summer’s top offering comes from what I like to refer to as the Chicano R&B version of the Band, as heard in the warmth, subtlety and emo- tional resonance of Kiko. Los Lobos’ lat- est is actually, believe it or not, rap influ- enced, if only in the everchanging sonic surfaces and peek-a-boo instrumental cameos. The oddly shaped compositions combine with a unique melodic sensibil- ity (blessed with David Hidalgo’s effort- less tenor) to make this pretty visionary stuff. It’s only rival for Album of the Year: Springsteen’s Lucky Town.

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Dirty

Sonic Youth Topping its formidable predecessor, Goo, Sonic Youth’s latest, Dirty, is their most purposeful juggernaut of wounded guitars yet. Essentially sounds like a war zone with rhythm (but not much). The guitar album of the year.

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Check Your Head Beastie Boys Back to reestablish your belief that rap is a fresh, vital musical form are the Beastie Boys with Check Your Head, the best rap album since Fear of a Black Planet. A thrilling listening experience, it’s essen- tially a formless ride through the Beasties’ favourite sounds, including lots of high- hat, funky bass and big, hard Zep beats. Call me nuts but I think this is super. Dynamics!

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