This is an inspiring work which occupies a precarious place between modern rockers and modern composers. But it's not all peaches and feedback: Don't expect to be whistling any of these tunes later on. —Jeff Houze

Metallica's music (especially their pre-"Black Album" period) has always sounded orchestral, with its chugging guitars, elaborate rhythms and whipsaw chord changes. But "S&M," a double-live album recorded with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, is a frustrating mix: great live performances of classic Metallica tunes, augmented by misguided, often kitschy orchestrations (by Michael Kamen) which undermine the original material.

The instrumental "Call of Ktulu" gives both rock band and orchestra a chance to shine. "The Thing That Should Not Be" is terrifying thanks to James Hetfield's loony-bin vocals, augmented minor-key horns and Hell's own bells (really the SFSO percussion section). The quiet opening of "Hero of the Day" becomes Berlioz-like with gently swelling strings that give way to crunching riffs, trumpet voluntaries and lonely horn-calls. "S&M" ends with "Battery," fittingly enough, in which the acoustic prelude is made Stravinsky-like by the addition of bassoons, and Hetfield's emotional vocals prove that he really has learned to sing this decade.

One good album every 12 months is about the best we can expect from jungle nowadays, and it usually seems to come from Roni Size and company. Following in the footsteps of Size's recent, much underrated "Breakbeat Era," DJ Krust's "Coded Language" is proof that the genre still has musical possibilities to offer. Look no further than the title track, which features slam poet Saul Williams dropping a well-nigh biblical rant on the black musical diaspora over Krust's intransigent beats and sci-fi effects. Like the album in general, it's slightly pompous, but as incendiary as anything you'll hear this year.

For six years, fans of Long Island progressive rockers Dream Theater have been wondering when they'd hear a sequel to "Metropolis Part I: The Miracle and the Sleeper," a nine-minute workout from "Images and Words." The band's eighth studio album, "Metropolis Part II: Scenes from a Memory" is that long-awaited follow-up, an elaborate concept album about hypnosis, dreaming, politics, time travel, jealousy and, finally, murder.

Like good prog-rockers, D.T. favors long songs, complex arrangements and cross-rhythms, topped with James LaBrie's operatic vocals. Stickman Mike Portnoy is the spiritual heir to Neil Peart. Bassist John Myung gives new meaning to the words "10 fingers of doom." New keyboardist/arranger Jordan Rudess fits right in, providing the melodic edge this band has lacked on its last three studio releases. And guitarist John Petrucci is comfortable on acoustic, stunning on electric.

Soulwax has made a CD in which rich orchestrations jostle strong pop rhythms and catchy guitar riffs encircle lilting string arrangements. It's a recipe similar to what's occasionally found on Radiohead's "OK Computer;" but this band, fronted by Belgian brothers Stephen and David Dewaele, can only approach Radiohead's heady dynamics, and they lack its dark bite.