$50 GUIDE : The Feel of Success May Last All Year

There is a “best of 1995” feel to this edition of Calendar’s guide to keeping up with what’s exciting in pop on an album budget of $50 a month. At least three of the collections--maybe four--are odds-on favorites for my year-end Top 10.

MARCH

Elastica, “Elastica” (DGC). This co-ed British quartet started off with three singles so glorious that you knew it would be a minor pop miracle if the group could maintain the pace over an entire album. Amazingly, Elastica has done it. The bonus is that the band, whose influences range from the Pretenders to the Buzzcocks, moves beyond its early-’80s, power-punk vitality to “Never Here,” a moment of such soul-baring intensity that it shows Elastica has the character and craft to be far more than simply “catchy.”

PJ Harvey, “To Bring You My Love” (Island). Against a guitar-organ backing that combines the sensual lure of Booker T. with the tension of Ennio Morricone, Polly Jean Harvey sings about desire and need with the alarming urgency of someone who has emerged from the struggle against personal demons--too wise to claim victory, yet too proud to whisper surrender. An album of the year contender.

Moby, “Everything Is Wrong” (Elektra). From the Ministry-like swirl of “All That I Need Is to Be Loved” to the early-’90s synth drive of “Bring Back My Happiness” to the dreamlike quality of “Into the Blue,” Moby employs the musical vocabulary of the dance world to lead us on an extraordinary journey. It’s one man’s search for sanity and salvation in an age whose values have been tarnished and corrupted.

APRIL

2Pac, “Me Against the World” (Interscope). Because of Tupac Shakur’s sexual abuse conviction and tough-guy rep, many pop fans will recoil at the suggestion that “Me Against the World” is the ‘90s rap equivalent of Marvin Gaye’s landmark “What’s Going On.” In a troubling, introspective album filled with both swagger and apology, Shakur attempts to explain--or, perhaps, simply understand--the seeds of his own discontent and doubt.

Elton John, “Made in England” (Rocket). This effort may not match the best of the John/Bernie Taupin collections of the ‘70s, but it comes closer than anyone would expect after all these years. From the isolation of “House” to the optimism of “Blessed,” the best of the songs speak of the power of love in ways that are revealing and tender.

Railroad Jerk, “One Track Mind” (Matador). Imagine a quartet with the irreverence and quirky originality of Beck and you’ll have some idea of what this New York outfit is all about. It’s a blues-rock sensibility that goes through the Rolling Stones and Dylan all the way to Robert Johnson and Hank Williams. Lively stuff.*