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KISS Psycho-Circus (Mercury/PolyGram) Track six: "You Wanted the Best." Yeah, and I can't say the Gods in Greasepaint have delivered another Destroyer. I can say that this is the first authentic KISS album since Love Gun. The archetypal Avon Ladies' men are a bit stiff after treading water for 20 years, but they bring us gifts of thundering drums, fist-in-the-air rocker anthems, Frehley's half-assed solos, Catman's token "Beth"-style ballad and a string-laden finale. So roll out that rusty, dusty tank, raise high your makeshift bedsheet banners, we're gonna pah-tee like it's nine-teen-sev'ny-nine. 8/10 (Rupert Bottenberg) Marilyn Manson Mechanical Animals (Nothing/Universal)
Archers of Loaf White Trash Heroes (Alias/Sonic Unyon)
Regional rock heroes the Archers of Loaf lose the major-label distribution of their last album, but retain its mellower moods and deeper depths on this fourth, full-length outing. And here, deeper means evoking a vague vibe of old American art-punk: Devo and the Cars in Eric Bachmann's various voices, and Television and Pere Ubu in the wacked guitars. The title track closes it beautifully with what could be a lost track from Eno's Another Green World. 8.5/10 (Chris Yurkiw)
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Lauryn Hill The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (Columbia/Sony)
On the Doors-inspired track "Superstar," Lauryn Hill waxes philosophical: "Come on baby light my fire/Everything you drop is so tired/Music is supposed to inspire/How come we ain't getting no higher?" With that and an album full of breathtaking introspection, Hill raises the stakes in the R&B/hip hop arena. There are no missteps here: from the beautiful tribute to her son ("To Zion"), where she boldly proclaims using heart over head in deciding to have her child, to funk-laced memories of back in the day on "Every Ghetto, Every City," to the brilliant defiance of "Everything Is Everything," Hill both inspires and lifts higher. Get schooled. 9.5/10 (Gerard Dee)
Exit: Trent Reznor's filthy-loose-raw-brutal barrage. Enter: Michael Beinhorn's clean-tight-polished-freaky flow. Exit: nipples. Enter: a pair of lily-white boobs. Exit: Alice Cooper gore-goth. Enter: Culture Club glitter-glam. Exit: screaming. Enter: actual singing. Exit: Manson. Enter: Marilyn. He (she? it?) is back from wallowing in the yin to shining in the yang. The pendulum swings to the extreme in surprisingly fine form. 8/10 (Lateef Martin)