A fascinating collection of songs from the 19th and early 20th centuries.

Over 13 tunes, Akinmusire and his very hot quintet (featuring Walter Smith III on tenor sax and a great drummer, Justin Brown) take the basic format of post-bop straightahead jazz and tease it around with absolute authority.

14 songs of keening, romantic acoustic music of great seriousness and lightness of being.

To the relief of anyone who carries a torch for the reclusive genius, it's a beauty.

The worldy influence remains but never overwhelms and the album contains at least half a dozen songs that are as simple and profound as anything Simon has ever written.

The wisdom expressed is crusty but benign, poetic and sometimes witty.

Helpnessness Blues is, like its predecessor, archaic and pastoral to the last.

An undiscovered diamond.

Arrangements are simple, bluegrass-inflected and rich in acoustic textures. Warm and thick as a hayrick.

The Cumbrian quartet haven't fumbled the ball with the follow-up. Smother, recorded in the shadow of Snowdonia, tinkles and twinkles like the classiest adult-alternative pop of the 1980s.

A compelling experience.

A genuine classic, in fact.

The material is all Mehldau's and quality varies from the standing ovations of the opening and closing tunes to lesser tricked-up vamps, but bass and drums groove superbly throughout.

There is joy in these grooves; the attentive care of studio perfectionists, and the warm embrace of an old friend.

It's a brilliant record; probably her best.

It's his best group for eons.

Maybe now he can sleep a little less on floors and spend more time making gorgeous albums like this. Please.

The occasional off-kilter touch throws things sufficiently askew to deny listeners any complacency.

Parker's music is approached from a post-Coltrane, post-free jazz aesthetic, with the rhythmic edginess of bebop elided into an all-the-time-in-the-world fluidity. A masterpiece.

Though it's far from his worst album, it's his least commercial – with its harsh beats, mangled vocals, and Marilyn Manson samples, it mimics the aesthetics of a DIY mixtape.

This rocks harder and faster than those fellow Tuareg bluesmen, partly due to the noticeable pop influence of another Malian act, Amadou & Mariam.

Meta-pop doesn’t come much more moving than this.

It happens to be their most cohesive and convincing effort yet.

Too late for those album of the year polls?

Though his appeal remains frustratingly specialist, with each release it becomes clearer that Callahan is the natural successor to Leonard Cohen.

This is accessible, song-based contemporary jazz at its most earnest, ordered and empowering.

This is Cash at his rawest and most riveting, singing his soul out to platoons, prisoners and presidents alike. Hard to describe in terms that are adequate.

Thankfully, the Knife have remained true to their essential principles.