Buckinghamshire band SBP return for their third album with a far more complex musical palette.

There are times in this 100-plus minutes of a concert recording duplicated over two CDs and one DVD where you want to jog Mehldau's elbow, but overall it's a triumph of imagination and structure.

With new recruit Earl Slick on guitar they've made a third reunion album filled with ramshackle glam and girl-group trash, reverberating with street-corner romanticism and hard-won wisdom.

Darwin Deez, a New York-based artist for whom the word "offbeat" seems to have been invented. Not that there are any in his music--all straight 4/4 and po-mo lyrics--but there are plenty of tunes, not a little charm and a fair old sense of humour.

The most rewarding part of this double-disc is the first quarter. Not that the hissy old demos and rarities on the rest of the collection are without their charms. But it's the opening section which really whisks you back to another age.

Finn's second album continues the project he undertook with his first – namely to shake off the shackles of being "Neil Finn's son" by swamping his dreamy, Beatles-esque pop songs with moments of electronic and percussive madness.

Giddily debunking sacred falsehoods with good, honest scepticism, Bauer’s raucous rebirth offers the best of both worlds: intrigue and instant reward for Walkmen doubters and acolytes alike.

It's an assured collection of pure pop with an independent sensibility, equal parts Kylie and The XX.

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

While there's perhaps a surfeit of synth-washes, the beautiful "Winter Elegy" superbly fulfils the opening promise.

It may not be the best Wilco album ever, but with care and consideration it may well turn out to be your favourite.

Classy pianos, minor chords and brushed drums back her ever-elegant, half-spoken syllables.

Fluent melodies, nature metaphors, and expressive settings are the robust ties that bind these reveries.

In its own downbeat, understated way, Tinsel and Lights does more for festive good cheer than any number of more traditional Christmas albums that go straight for the razzle-dazzle.

Commendably, the Bury band's fifth album doesn't see them chasing the mainstream or pandering to the ear of the daytime radio dilettante.

Within the first 60 seconds it's alluded to Blue Peter and Taxi Driver in successive lines. Wind in the Willows it ain't.

Just like Levi Stubbs, he can't help himself.

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

Taken on its own merits, however, there's plenty to enjoy, as Bush sings new vocals over remixed and re-edited backing tracks in a deeper, more weathered voice.

It's close to the best of all music I know.... A second CD of later, unreleased material with some genuine gold among the dross.

As we glide through Post Tropical the tracks steadily grow bigger, with gospel-style harmonies and languid slide guitar lending texture to create a dreamy, if cold, soundscape that may leave some with a sense of frustration, as if we are building towards an ever-shifting point on the horizon.

[On Bloom] Alex Scally and Victoria Legrand have finessed their vision to perfection.

It's the drift, eddy and thrust of the whole ensemble that tells the main story.

This is an album that deserves at least to reacquaint the Ting Tings with the outskirts of Somewheresville.

It's a blast.

You won't have heard anything like it before.

Pianist Matthew Bourne goes all English-pastoral in this largely lovely solo suite.

More important on first contact, anyway, is the feel of the music, which grooves. Really good.