Various artists: "Warmer For The Spark: the Songs of Jimmy McCarthy" (Dara)

The television ads for this album tell us that Jimmy McCarthy is one of Ireland's greatest songwriters. He is. But not just because he writes deliciously intricate - though accessible - melodies, and lyrics that often read like poetry, but because of his unstinting commitment to his craft. Match that commitment to similar tendencies in singers such as Christy Moore, Mary Black, Maura O'Connell and Mary Coughlan and you have great music. You know the songs; No Frontiers, Mystic Lipstick, Ancient Rain, As I Leave Behind Neidin, Ride On and so on. Need I say more? Well, actually, yes. The idea of including the composer himself on an album designed to highlight his skills as a songwriter is just a bit tacky. Apart from that, nearly the best of Jimmy McCarthy.

By Joe Jackson

Barbra Streisand: "Higher Ground" (Columbia)

Barbra Streisand's ego has soiled too many pop songs. Normally, when she sings, the dominant message conveyed is "Me, Barbra, me great singer" and the poor song gets trampled under her craving to communicate that perception. Happily, on Higher Ground she sings as though she's left her ego at home. Or is willing to bow before the "higher force" to whom this album of inspirational songs is dedicated; namely God, whom she sees as a non-denominational entity, as is evident from her breathtaking reading of the Jewish hymn Avinu Malkeniu. She blends I Believe with You'll Never Walk Alone, and gives a magnificent reading of the black spiritual Deep River. As for On Holy Ground, well, the album is worth the price, if only to hear the black gospel choir. A great album.

By Joe Jackson

Fybre: "Fylosofy" (Warner)

Fybre is essentially one bloke, a drum machine, some keyboards and computers and a lot of self-belief. Twenty-nine-year-old McGregor comes from Lancashire and is a one-man drum'n'bass maestro, taking a 1990s beat and applying a 1980s songwriting style to songs like I Don't Know What To Do With Myself, Some People and Without A Clue. The opening track, Nuthin' Makes Sense, is probably the strongest composition on offer here, sounding a bit like The Beloved on a drum'n'bass trip, but much of the album meanders like Robert Smith lost in a Gothic jungle. Fybre's lyrics are thick with erudite observations, but often they get too clever for their own good, tripping over some awkwardly-constructed metaphors. To his credit, Fybre delivers the whole thing with the conviction of someone who has a definite musical vision, and pulls off some convoluted ideas with style and panache.

By Kevin Courtney