Editor’s Note: In Sound Advice, the first Saturday of every month, veteran NEWS entertainment writer Dale McGarrigle, former British music-press writer Adam Corrigan and a revolving stable of NEWS writers review new albums from across the musical spectrum.

“The Last DJ” (Warner Bros.) – Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

On his first studio album in three years, Petty sounds a bit like a man out of his time.

The veteran rocker blasts the music industry on the album’s first four and final songs (the title cut, “Money Becomes King,” “Dreamville,” “Joe,” “Can’t Stop the Sun”). Petty won’t back down as he takes aim at corporate greed, but there’s an air of regret present as well, as he seems to miss a more innocent era.

But there are other issues on Petty’s mind as well, including juvenile violence (“When a Kid Goes Bad”) and missing youth (“Lost Children”).

Still “The Last DJ” has its hopeful spots as well, with such love songs as “You and Me” and “Have a Nice Day.” There’s even the frivolous, Beatlesque “The Man Who Loved Women.”

Aided by Heartbreakers Mike Campbell, Benmont Tench and, to a lesser extent, Ron Blair, Petty has crafted a fine album full of beguiling hooks and pertinent insights. “The Last DJ” doesn’t rank among Petty’s best, but it’s certain to please his many fans.

Petty may no longer be the angry young man of “Damn the Torpedos” and “Hard Promises,” but he remains too relevent to be lumped in with the grumpy old men of rock. “The Last DJ” shows he’s still got plenty to say, in a memorable way. – Dale McGarrigle

“Scarlet’s Walk” (Epic) – Tori Amos

This is the CD Tori Amos fans have been waiting for.

In what is arguably her best release since “Little Earthquakes,” Amos and her alter ego, Scarlet, hitch a ride across America and return with a musical journal from the road. Along the way, they pick up a porn star, a would-be soul mate and a gay friend who dies of AIDS; they visit sacred Indian territory and cruise up the Ventura highway with the top down; and somehow it all sounds perfectly logical.

It’s hardly a joy ride. Scarlet and her handsome prince don’t live happily ever after in the wistful “Sorta Fairytale.” Good loving goes bad in “Strange,” too, but the heavy piano makes it better to have loved and lost. She lashes out at trust-funders and homophobes in “Taxi Ride,” and seduces her demons in the throaty “Crazy.”

In last year’s “Strange Little Girls,” Amos played dress up, wildly morphing from punk princess to sultry starlet while covering songs by male artists. In “Scarlet’s Walk” she sticks to one guise, but her personalities are equally complex, full of rage, love, longing and toughness.

The walk is a long one – 18 songs long, to be exact, and at times it can be exhausting. But once you’ve started, you can’t stop. Scarlet won’t let you. – Kristen Andresen

“Testify” (Atlantic) – Phil Collins

I assume it’s just synchronicity that new releases by Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins have landed on my desk in consecutive months. Still, it’s interesting to get updates on what these Genesis deserters are up to these days. I speak as someone not ashamed to admit to being somewhat of a fan of Genesis’ first decade or so of music. How uncool is that? Well, apparently not quite as uncool as Mr. Collins’ latest offering.

While Phil never seemed to carry quite the intellectual weight of Gabriel, he always had much going for him. Collins is what the British at one time would have termed a “geezer.” He always seems a man of great wit and charm. His expressive face has lent itself well to acting on occasion (incidentally, he started out as an actor.) He is obviously a man of no small talent, and even I will admit that he was guilty of producing a good handful of (not always pleasantly) memorable tunes in his ’80s heyday.

All of which begs the question: Where are the wit, charm, expressiveness, talent and memorable tunes on “Testify”? When the most memorable thing on your new CD is a cover of “Can’t Stop Loving You” (which, let’s face it, was originally recorded by Leo Sayer – nuff said), alarm bells should be ringing. The only reason they wouldn’t be is if someone turned them off, afraid of waking the sleeping listeners.

Like Gabriel, Phil Collins still has a strong distinctive voice, but whereas Gabriel continues to lend his to experimentation, Collins puts his to the task of recording music that sounds a lot like his duller ’80s stuff, only a little less interesting than that. That’s my testimony and I’m sticking to it. – Adam Corrigan

“Spend the Night” (Atlantic) – The Donnas

Avril who? Even before their sweet 16ths, The Donnas have been cooking up megachops and dressing themselves like a Russ Meyers-inspired girl gang. A few years and records later, the world just might be ready for them.

On their first major label outing, the band of now twentysomethings, show no sign of maturity or depth of feeling on “Spend the Night,” but in The Donnas’ case, that’s a good thing. Preferring instead to stick to their perfect posture of riffs and attitude, hammering out cheeky lyrics like “I didn’t mean to get so addicted/ it’s just like Miss Cleo predicted.”

While certain other performers have that strange air of groupies gone wrong, The Donnas rock with an enticing ferocity, without ballads, without love songs, just plenty of hook and sloppy hormonal battle cries. Punks? Feminists? Nah, just plain old rockers.

The Donnas are in good company these days, too, with more attention and airplay given to raucous rock that actually rocks like that of The Hives and The White Stripes, and the continuing phenomenon of sophomoric boy punk bands like Sum 41 and the other various incarnations of Blink 182. Teetering between the two camps, The Donnas might find an audience already primed for them. Better still, they might open the door for other truly rockin’ ladies like The Sahara Hotnights.

Punchy and fun, The Donnas rock just right on “Spend the Night,” whether or not pop radio thinks so, just as they always have. As the girls say on their track “Who Invited You,” “We don’t care/if you think/our party’s cool/’cause we do!” – George Bragdon