This tribute has been a long timing coming, but it doesn’t quite do justice to an artist whose integrity ultimately saw him turn his back on fame.

If you want to hear the emphasis of some of Callahan’s most satisfyingly minimalist lyrics shift slightly in this foreign landscape, this is a keeper. Otherwise, it’s merely a cool, respectful diversion that’s way better in practice than it looks on paper.

A bygone feel permeates a few of the songs; the joyful saloon rock of Frankie Fell In Love takes listeners back to The River, and Down In The Hole recalls the more reflective Bruce of Born In The USA and Tunnel Of Love.

Its return is to be celebrated, not just for the bonus disc of a previously unavailable live show, but because it illustrates the formation of a blueprint (tough country-rock, literate confessional lyrics) that would serve Williams well for the next quarter century.

Strutting arrogance is his game, and it’s sometimes an uneasy mix with the ghosts of those whose spirit he aims to evoke.

Everything is despatched with verve and attitude, respectful of country music traditions but filtered through a broader, more urbane worldview.

She steps gingerly out of her comfort zone again on I Never Wear White, its harsh guitars veering towards garage rock, and the banjo-led angry man blues of Song Of The Stoic. If any of this proves too much for less adventurous fans, the literate whimsy of Crack In The Wall and Silver Bridge trek across more familiar terrain.

It’s a relatively muted return, and we can only hope it’s a casual curtain-raiser to something fresher and more tangible to come.

A rare example of an eponymous album where the title feels wholly appropriate.

There’s no doubting Howe’s immense talent but, though each album stands alone individually, bundled together here the material becomes slightly indistinct.

The result is one marvellously gloomy overview of this aspect of Lanegan’s career.

It’s a record that her late father would have been enormously proud of, and the first essential country album of 2014.

With minimal instrumental backing, the pair confidently locate the essence and atmosphere of the original album.

What really sets Total Strife Forever apart is Doyle’s vocal ability.

Unexpectedly enjoyable, the only real misfire comes with If God Made Everyone, which starts off like a Quadrophenia outtake before verging into unpalatable mid-90s U2 territory.

It’s a fascinating and most worthy archival release.

Dear River finds the Australian and her all-female band flexing bigger muscles, producing a much fuller sound that’s closer to the powerful noise they make on stage.

It's apparent that a lot of work has gone into paring these jams down into a focused and always interesting collection.

It gets gnarlier elsewhere.

What began as a series of bold experimentations dressed in a warm fuzzy melding of genres feels half-baked second time around.

For the most part, however, [Bob Dylan's] contributions feel like a step down from the level of those of his former bandmates, emphasising just how far they had come.

It’s certainly fun, and a charming period piece. However, the most revelatory moments are the solo Pop Profile interviews, two at the end of each CD.

There’s much to pore over here, including two full live sets from 1984 and the experimental patchwork collection Gasoline In Your Eye. Get ready to have your earth shaken.

As a Bad Religion record, it’s certainly not gold and you won’t be demanding myrrh.

As it stands, Reflektor is Arcade Fire’s most diverse and sonically interesting work to date.

Produced by Daniel Lanois and newly mixed by Glyn Johns, there’s a more soulful side to Griffin on the shuffling lament Sooner Or Later, while One More Girl veers towards the folky introspection of early Joni Mitchell.

Ultimately, it may not include anything that will endure as long as some of his Wings classics, let alone the Fabs’, but it’s a powerful and persuasive album from a man whose innate knack for melody is still firing.

The list of the era’s top head acts is impressive--everyone from Tim Hardin and Canned Heat to Jefferson Airplane and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Trouble is, the roll call doesn’t make much logical sense.