It’s a shame that they can’t quite reach that level consistently throughout the entire record, but those glimmers of greatness nevertheless establish The Wharves as charmingly talented songwriters worthy of investigation, especially if you have a penchant for the faded but still-beautiful glories of decades past.

Fans of ST’s metal era (basically everything from the late 80s on) will appreciate Lombardo’s solid presence, though there’s a feeling that the master is slightly under-utilised here, more of his Cuban influences would have freshened up the slightly over-familiar sound a bit.

The later efforts are more like dry runs, and we might have benefitted more from a mixture of these and some key remixes from over the years, but really, what’s not to like?

Young is classically trained, but beholden to the values of punk rock and for this collection he has decided to throw technical competence out of the window by basing each song around the strumming of a single chord. These tunes can thus, in theory, be covered by anyone within hours of picking up a guitar.

While some might contend that Freedom Jazz Dance’s exposure of Miles’ working methods divests him of his all-important mystique, rather, the project actually enhances rather than diminishes our appreciation and understanding of him. And that can only be a good thing.

The Early Years 1965-1972 is the sonic equivalent to background reading and extensive footnotes for their remarkable body of recorded work.

Bamboo Diner Rag is a gentle, almost jolly piece of contrapuntal country picking, while Hot Little Hand doffs its cap towards Muscle Shoals.

No 6 is the sound of bluegrass artisans at work, playing up a storm while demonstrating that their chosen genre is not only alive and well, but that its traditional songwriting tenets and instrumental framework can support vital new music.

As with Newman and Spigel’s previous output, most of it is far too restless to be dismissed as merely “ambient.”

There’s a fair amount of whimsy, sure (and at points you feel a lava lamp and joss sticks might appear), but this focused, emotional side to Hanson is a welcome addition to this body of work.

Nine-minute meanders and sub-standard I Am The Walrus clones aside, Third World Pyramid furthers and spreads out the BJM sound.

Expanding the boundaries of hip-hop and soul, it’s outstanding stuff which should further enhance the careers and reputations of both.

Some of the sisters’ rippling Kate Bush worship is so high up in the ether (or vocal register) that the listener feels a little queasy when glancing down to the ground below, but this nausea is only short-lived and sporadic. Most of the album is in fact rather comfy and well thought-out, lightly jazzy in places and often soaked in reverb seemingly inherited from Dead Can Dance.

Papa M is back. His best album? No. A self-proclaimed “weird ass record” of diary sketches and fragments that beam with refound passion and optimism? Hell yeah.

He shifts back to the modern world, with the excellent trio of Who To Love?, Come Close To Me and My Last Affair adding deep house backing to snippets of disembodied piano, guitar and soulful vocals.

Listening now, it’s easier to understand. Buffed to perfection by Scott Litt and John Keane, Out Of Time is a proudly pop album that demands new audiences. ... For hardcore fans, the extra material is a full but mixed bag.

Just like Iceage’s output however, Telling It Like It Is doesn’t always convince.

As a unit, Eternally Even misfires every now and then, and the impact is integral to the structure of the whole.

He’s on top notch form; sparking, soaring and grinding through five spirited new instrumentals and three from his back catalogue.

It’s a pleasingly consistent collection of songs, but special mention goes to the raunchy Relevant (complete with solos for Reinhardt-like guitar and swaggering piano) and May You Never Fall In Love’s wordly advice. All said, it’s a good look on him.

Produced by Kate herself, this live set sounds incredible.

There doesn’t appear to be much of a connection between any of the songs, and you’ll have to be fairly willing to wander through the wreckage to find much of any delight.

There’s enough previously unissued material, alongside superb liner notes, to make this entertaining collection a boon for Ra’s growing number of disciples.

Blue & Lonesome is as defiant a statement in its own way as any earlier landmark. Stones co-founder Ian Stewart should be beaming wherever he is, as his boys finally realise the potential he spotted at those first rehearsals 54 years ago.

With Bovell subjecting the nimble Pure Ones to his spacy, Channel One-esque trickery and City Of Eyes’ monster groove capable of electrifying the most torpid dancefloor, Honeymoon On Mars is never in danger of getting lost in space.

Over the 20 tracks spread over two discs, Steve lives every subtle nuance he wrings out of his voice or guitar. Now one of our most articulate links to a vanishing past, he deserves to be treasured.

As with previous records, this album features an array of guest musicians, including Rufus Wainwright, Mary Margaret O’Hara, Feist, Ron Sexsmith and the Pet Shop Boys’ Neil Tennant, but these songs remain Gibbs’ from start to end, and reveal his incredible ability to explore different styles while always sounding like himself.

No sanitary in-concert “best of” is this, for The Notwist have the knack of performing their pieces in a pretty faithful manner before all politeness is forgotten as they swerve into yet another freshly fleshed-out reinterpretation.