Marc Bolan died in September 1977, exactly two weeks before his thirtieth birthday. His achievements in the last seven years of his life included over 20 UK hit singles, 11 of which made the top 10 in less than three years. This compilation features 14 of those singles, along with some celebrated b-sides and album tracks.

Cum On Feel The Hitz is a superlative and comprehensive collection of Slade singles from 1970 to 1991. Cum On Feel The Hitz is released as a double CD and a 2LP collection: the CD comprises of 43 singles, while the double vinyl features 24 singles. Cum On Feel The Hitz includes all six of their UK Number one singles: "Coz I Luv You”, “Take Me Bak ‘Ome”, ”Mama Weer All Crazee Now”, “Cum On Feel The Noize”, “Skweeze Me, Pleeze Me“ and “Merry Xmas Everybody” and a total of 16 Top 10 singles. The affection for Slade’s music and attitude remains undimmed today, as 1973’s “Merry Christmas Everybody” has gone on to become Britain’s best loved Christmas song. Formed in Wolverhampton in 1966, Slade's chart career spanned 3 decades.

Queen II was a breakthrough in terms of power and ambition, but Queen's third album Sheer Heart Attack was where the band started to gel. It followed quickly on the heels of the second record – just by a matter of months; it was the second album they released in 1974 – but it feels like it had a longer incubation period, so great is the progress here. Which isn't quite to say that Sheer Heart Attack is flawless – it still has a tendency to meander, sometimes within a song itself, as when the killer opening "Brighton Rock" suddenly veers into long stretches of Brian May solo guitar – but all these detours do not distract from the overall album, they're in many ways the key to the record itself: it's the sound of Queen stretching their wings as they learn how to soar to the clouds.

An all-too-irresistible confection of well-known and much-loved pop and glam allsorts can’t disguise Sweet’s authentic hard rock centre. Don’t turn it down. In this brand new blockbuster collection, Andy, Brian, Steve and Mick take you through some hellraising action and blitz you into happy submission. Are you ready? Includes detailed sleevenotes in an 8-page booklet.

In one regard, Queen II does indeed provide more of the same thing as on the band's debut. Certainly, of all the other albums in Queen's catalog it bears the closest resemblance to its immediate predecessor, particularly in its lean, hard attack and in how it has only one song that is well-known to listeners outside of their hardcore cult: in this case, it's "Seven Seas of Rhye," which is itself more elliptical than "Keep Yourself Alive," the big song from the debut. But these similarities are superficial and Queen II is a very different beast than its predecessor, an album that is richer, darker, and weirder, an album that finds Queen growing as a band by leaps and bounds.

By late 1973, Marc Bolan's star was waning fast. No longer gunning out those effortless classics which established him as the most important figure of the decade so far, he embarked instead on a voyage of musical discovery, which cast him so far adrift from the commercial pop mainstream that when his critics said he'd blown it, he didn't even bother answering them back. Or that's the way it appeared at the time, and today, too, it must be acknowledged that 1974's Zinc Alloy & the Hidden Riders of Tomorrow is not classic Bolan, even if one overlooks the transparency of its title.

Like any patchy but promising debut from a classic rock group, it's often easy to underrate Queen's eponymous 1973 debut, since it has no more than one well-known anthem and plays more like a collection of ideas than a cohesive album. But what ideas! Almost every one of Queen's signatures are already present, from Freddie Mercury's operatic harmonies to Brian May's rich, orchestral guitar overdubs and the suite-like structures of "Great King Rat." That rich, florid feel could be characterized as glam, but even in these early days that appellation didn't quite fit Queen, since they were at once too heavy and arty to be glam and – ironically enough, considering their legendary excess – they were hardly trashy enough to be glam.

The follow-up to 1975's Use Your Imagination, It's Better Than Working caught Mud continuing to pursue the twin directions laid out by their most recent hits – one eye on a distinctly Showaddywaddy-shaped brand of rock & roll revivalism, and the other firmly grasping the soft rock softball that had served former stablemates Smokey so well. Neither was it an altogether desultory decision – "Night on the Tiles" handed the band one more in the long sequence of hit singles that had sustained them since 1973, while a taste of Mud's eye for the unusual was delivered by an unlikely cover of Alex Harvey's "Vambo Rools." "Beating Round the Bush" and the amusingly titled "Blagging Boogie Blues," too, captured more than a soupçon of the quartet's early endearing goofiness, rendering It's Better Than Working a stronger album than might have been expected – even if it still can't hold a candle to a decent, career-length hits collection.

T. Rex were an English rock band, formed in 1967 by singer-songwriter and guitarist Marc Bolan. The band was initially called Tyrannosaurus Rex, and released four psychedelic folk albums under this name. In 1969, Bolan began to shift from the band's early acoustic sound to an electric one. The following year, he shortened their name to T. Rex. The 1970 release of the single "Ride a White Swan" marked the culmination of this development, and the group soon became a commercial success as part of the emerging glam rock scene. From 1970 until 1973, T. Rex encountered a popularity in the UK comparable to that of the Beatles, with a run of eleven singles in the UK top ten.

An intricate, deliberately idiosyncratic record, assembled piece by piece, Boulders perfectly captures Roy Wood's peculiar genius, more so than anything else he recorded. All of his obsessions are here – classical music, psychedelia, pre-Beatles pop, pastoral folk ballads, absurdist humor, studio trickery, and good old-fashioned rock & roll – assembled in a gracefully eccentric fashion. Some listeners may find that eccentricity a little alienating, but it's the core of Wood's music. He wrote tuneful, accessible songs, but indulged his passions and weird ideas, so even the loveliest melodies and catchiest hooks are dressed in colorful, odd arrangements.

Kicking off with perhaps their best single yet, Wasted in America's title track propels Love/Hate into what initially promises to be another amphetamine-fueled romp through hard-rock excess. This promise soon turns to disappointment, however, as the subsequent songs lack the focus of the band's once fabulously straightforward sound. If anything, Love/Hate is guilty of trying to cover too much ground, and pieces like "Spit," "Happy Hour," and "Yucca Man" alternate reliably catchy choruses with strangely jagged, off-kilter verses. The result is more disjointed than exciting, and further attempts at creepy atmospherics ("Cream," "Don't be Afraid") and acoustic forays "Don't Fuck With Me," "Social Sidewinder" are more amusing than interesting.

Mungo Jerry is one of rock's great one-hit successes. Outside of England, they're known for exactly one song, but that song, "In the Summertime," is a seasonal anthem known by listeners who weren't even born when it was released. Mungo Jerry was a solid blues outfit as well and knew how to get the most out of their jug band sound, which has helped them survive for three decades.