Sequel To The Prequel’s catchy riffs also induce a sense of familiarity, making it addictive from the off.

Musically speaking it’s a marvel.

Across Six Leap Years serves the weirdest of purposes, pleasing (presumably) both band and fans. Many of these reworks are so slightly different as to possibly only truly satisfy the former, but no matter.

Whether this album will find the charismatic Syrian expanding his audience beyond a cult concern remains to be seen, but such well-crafted high-energy dance exotica as the title track and Yagbuni should ensure that Souleyman’s star continues to shine.

This experiment has worked better than fans could have hoped and, given the Mule’s current state of songwriting and performance, elevates this jam band to a whole new level. File under: inspired.

The innate beauty of The Beta Band [is] unfulfilled potential aligned to a stubbornness that would never betray artistic ideals; a punch in the guts followed by a raspberry in the face.

Crimson/Red is self-referencing précis of his career to date, with the melodic elegance and lyrical insight we’ve come to expect but have been denied for so long.

This is solid, satisfying modern metal for the kids, and maybe even some wizened oldies too.

Across Six Leap Years serves the weirdest of purposes, pleasing (presumably) both band and fans. Many of these reworks are so slightly different as to possibly only truly satisfy the former, but no matter.

If you want a more detailed account of each album, you’ll have to check our Reissue Of The Month review in RC 335. Limited, expanded editions of Sly & The Family Stone’s first seven long-players, from 1967’s A Whole New Thing to 1974’s Small Talk, were reissued in 2007 and are now out of print. This box set sort of plugs that gap.

The set ends with a trio of songs from a 1964 BBC session; the sound quality may be poor but those voices shine through, utterly peerless nearly 50 years on.

Hardcore fans will own it all already, and newcomers will find it too daunting.

Savages is a feisty record that returns to the familiar blend of hardcore, thrash and groove metal.

It still shows signs of the snotty punk remnants that Nevermind had buffed from its paintwork. And yet here it is, neatly repackaged and served up with memorabilia shots in a bid to get us on board once more.

These 17 discs comprise every Island studio album, each with generous extras, plus standalone discs of genuine historical worth.

Kicking off with I Am Dust, it hangs together marvellously as an album.

A fine addition to a weighty catalogue already packed with duets.

It sounds like a lost album that should have come out after 1979’s I Am: a very shrewd approximation of the EWF we know and love, it’s crammed with sophisticated R&B, gossamer-light jazz and powerful, soulful vocals with a positive message.

While his guitar-playing remains robust and his vocal range undiminished, it’s the characteristically immersed, impassioned songwriting that most vividly illustrates his ongoing vigour.

It’s successful, on the whole, and fans of this ever-refreshing Britpop behemoth will find plenty to cheer.

Yes, It’s True starts out along a rather pedestrian path of nod-along rock-by-numbers.

Thankfully, the three-part harmonies and irresistible melodies that lit up the debut remain ever present, exemplified here on both Memoirs Of Grey and Sweet Salvation.

This reissue’s seven bonus tracks will excite completists and include Waco, initially slated for inclusion on the album’s 2002 release before being given away online. But, in truth, the original album’s heartfelt, immediate and tape-hissing guitars and cutely executed melodies excite the most.

It’s edgy, but civil, and it looks like the war will rage on for the time being at least, regardless of the outcome of each emotional battle.

Moore’s Nashville-based father Bob played bass for everyone from Dylan and Elvis to Sammy Davis Jr and Quincy Jones, and his influence is clear; all of pop music is here.

All this is a must-have for fans, and a relatively inexpensive way of accessing an erratic but always intriguing body of work.

Recorded last year at Bestival on the Isle Of Wight, the band are as tight as ever; they’re clearly having a ball.

All very highbrow and ambitious for sure, yet despite portentous advance warnings of material involving fallen angels, the Garden Of Eden and Dante-ish visions of Hell, songs such as the plaintive Morningstar and the Buddy Holly-aping rattle of Letting Me Out quickly prove Hart’s still more than capable of channelling his lofty ideals through good ol’ verse-chorus-verse.