Maria McKee, Rage, U2: What Else Do You Want?

This edition of the guide--recommendations on how to invest wisely on a pop budget of $50 a month--ranges from fresh-sounding works from old favorites U2 and Maria McKee to lively assaults from exquisite newcomers, including the fiery rock ‘n’ rap of Rage Against the Machine and the often wistful reflections of Smashing Pumpkins.

July

Maria McKee, “You Gotta Sin to Get Saved” (Geffen). This isn’t the best album that McKee can make--or has made--but it shows once again that she is the most captivating female singer in rock since Chrissie Hynde, though her excursions into country (“Only Once,” a melancholy gem) and soul-gospel (“Why Wasn’t I More Grateful,” a stirring self-examination) are the real highlights here. Trust me: As soon as McKee gets a radio hit, you’ll be so enthralled with her voice that you’ll go back and check out this and her three earlier group and solo albums. Why wait?

Rage Against the Machine, “Rage Against the Machine” (Epic). Rage’s striking, politically conscious debut has been around for months, but it was the L.A. band’s show-stopping performances on the “Lollapalooza” tour that finally sent the album up the pop charts. Zack de la Rocha is a bona fide star who combines on stage a Bob Marley-like charisma and a Chuck D.-style rap command--and the music itself is as tough and relentless as his raps.

U2, “Zooropa” (Island). In its most radical work yet, rock’s greatest contemporary band captures on record the spirit of its “Zoo TV” tour, which employed ‘90s technology to explore traditional questions of values lost and rarely regained.

August

Freestyle Fellowship, “Innercity Griots” (4th & B’way/Island). Jazz-influenced, socially conscious rap from Los Angeles that is smart, witty and perhaps even more solidly constructed than that of New York’s Digable Planets.

Liz Phair, “Exile in Guyville” (Matador). In this debut’s best moments, Phair’s Patti Smith sense of artistic ambition and abandon overrides her occasional Suzanne Vega-shared tendency toward self-centered craft and detachment. The result is a beauty of an album. This candid, frequently confrontational look at relationships employs a stark, almost folkie feel to keep attention rightly focused on the power of the words.

Smashing Pumpkins, “Siamese Dreams” (Virgin). Lots of Next Big Thing expectations surround this major-label debut, and the Chicago quartet lives up to most of them in an album that offers a thrilling balance of grinding ‘90s rock punctuation and soothing melodic grace. Billy Corgan sings and sometimes writes about fears and dreams with the disarming sweetness and vulnerability of Brian Wilson. In fact, one of the album’s supreme moments is titled simply “Disarm.”