Young, Restless and Ageless

In

the history of madonna/whore complexes, no one has accomplished as much in 61 minutes as Xzibit has on his wobbly fourth album, Man Vs. Machine. On the exuberantly lascivious Choke Me, Spank Me (Pull My Hair) Xzibit is as straightforward as his title — a night with him is not about cuddling, ladies — while on Missin' U he tells his dear, departed mother, "What I wouldn't give for one more day with you." Xzibit claims this contradiction is part of an allegory (Man Vs. Machine is apparently a concept album about the difficulty of maintaining both underground and mainstream success), but it's an allegory out of control. The nasty stuff sounds like the usual hard-core crassness, while the nice stuff comes off as treacly. The shame is that Xzibit wastes contributions from guests Eminem and Snoop Dogg and flavorful production from, among others, Dr. Dre.

After winning her independence from an overeager stage dad, country cutie LeAnn Rimes, 20, promised that her first album as an adult would reveal her true personality. On Twisted Angel we learn that the real LeAnn Rimes is actually Paula Abdul. The first single, Life Goes On, is passable pop in which Rimes uses her considerable range to overcome dated slang like "daddy mack." The rest of the album is a catastrophe. The songs are poorly written hip-hop/pop hybrids with production so gaudy you'll yearn for the organic sound of a Cher record. And unless your name is R.Kelly, you'll squirm as Rimes marries sex and cliche ("You opened up my world to paradise, so nice!/Feels so good, my body liquefies"). Rimes is not a girl, not yet a woman — and definitely not yet a songwriter.

It's too late in tom petty's career for him to monkey with his sound, and on The Last DJ, Petty's 14th album, he remains a committed minimalist, letting jangly guitars, floating keyboards and his much imitated whine rule the day. But Petty is still evolving as a writer, and The Last DJ contains his most interesting and confident material in a decade. As ever, there are small-time characters with big-time regrets, but whereas previous Petty protagonists had no one to blame but themselves, many of these losers are paralyzed by the grip of corporate culture. On Money Becomes King, he rasps, "If you stretch your imagination, I'll tell you all a tale/About a time when everything wasn't up for sale," while on the title track he curses the end of creative choice over the airwaves. It's not a protest song but an elegy — one that deserves lots of play over those dying airwaves.