10 are less than two minutes and only one is of any substantial length--the last track and best one. This makes it a slightly stop/start stumbling score, one that never really settles and gets going.

It’s an excellent and cohesive appendix, far preferable to the hotchpotch of remixes sometimes appended to successful albums.

Rewardingly, Cinema buries its snout deep into the trough to root out the goods.

The lust for life evident on the streets of Havana is reflected enthrallingly in an album that looks set to take the Daptone ethos to the world at large.

From the very outset, songs scream with insane ambition.

It’s all very polished, if hardly challenging.

Boarding House is schizophrenic in the extreme. Despite being spawned in said room, later work has over-egged the pudding. While certain sections of songs work, they’re quickly thrown back into a maelstrom of hip-hop drums, Oh Sees squawks, fine gospel vocals from The McCrary Sisters and vintage synths.

A winning melange of tinny disco beats, retro-futuristic textures and layers of synth, it’s by far their most cohesive work to date; in its less inspired moments it feels literally (and presumably intentionally) monotonous, but at its best it’s an immersive, absorbing listen.

It’s all fine enough, but doesn’t leave much of a lasting impression.

The supergroup does actually sound like something from the late 60s Swedish “progg” scene complete with flute toots and floaty vocals.

Without straying too far from the patented funk, soul and jazz peppered with enlightened, literate lyrical bars that have marked his previous four albums, A Work Of Heart seems thoroughly of the moment. There are dexterous rapping performances aplenty, often marked by enlightened sexual politics.

Given the source material, There’s A Riot Going On was never going to be the sonic revolution that Sly & The Family Stone-referencing title might suggest, but it is an invitingly disparate sound collage that will seduce fanboys and newbies alike.

Completing a trilogy alongside 2010’s Valleys Of Neptune and 2013’s People, Hell And Angels (both of which went Top 5 in the US), it’s clear there’s still a hunger for Hendrix’s unheard back pages. Both Sides Of The Sky is arguably the most satisfying meal of the three.

The level of consistency remains high throughout a 14-track running order encompassing the belligerence of Evil Never Dies, and the title track, mid-tempo maulers (Lone Wolf) and epic closer Sea Of Red.

It’s in the contrasts between the overtly camp, the most extreme squelch, and the space afforded to the smoother jams that Mr Dynamite really excels. It’s a success because the vocals, possibly the most blatant things here, are not what remain buzzing in your head after repeated listens. More indelible is the mood, the ambience even.

It’s a real coming of age for them as their songs, emerging from woodshedding sessions with producer Richard Swift in a studio in Rodeo, New Mexico, are spontaneous, immediate and really hit home.

His distinctive approach, with its palpable rock and country elements is indebted more to Bill Frisell than Wes Montgomery.

A mature and complex collection.

Thankfully, while pouring out his soul into three or four-minute measures he never loses sight of his attractive Americana-goes-pop sensibilities, most perfectly realised on Over The Midnight and the title track.

Brigid Mae Power’s 2016 debut was a beautiful, dreamy affair. So is The Two Worlds--but so much better.

If her more country rock-slanted work for Mount Moriah could be read as a measure of that distance from her roots, Lionheart closes the gap. By trawling her Appalachian background’s feelings, beliefs, experiences and details, McEntire has reclaimed country music for her own personality.

Depending on whether or not you’ve encountered him before, this is either an infectious comeback or one seriously charming introduction.

Tracey Thorn is a singular talent, and in a career that spans over four decades she’s achieved much. Record though has set a new benchmark.

With its garage production job, loud tinny drum tracks and an overriding sparseness hanging between each instrument, Drift resembles a very promising demo tape for an album yet to come to proper fruition.

To paraphrase just a touch, post-crash, necessity is very much the mother of inventiveness here. But out of that echoing vastness comes a gentle sense of melody that reveals itself, bit by bit, through repeated visits.

They took their sweet time, but that Breeders line-up is back, and has just nonchalantly knocked it out of the park.

Passionate, eccentric and unafraid of speaking out or baring his ever-beleaguered soul, Moby remains a welcome presence in modern times and certainly does himself no harm with this highly personal statement.

The biggest triumphs lie in the quietly assured orchestration of Body To Flame (a matching mole for Jeff Buckley’s Grace) and the title track, which calls to mind Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-era Wilco).