A poignant release from the LA trio. A chance to celebrate rather than mourn the recent loss of bassist and founder member Steve Kille. Honouring their heavy psychedelic roots with Voyager To Voyager, the first and second take rawness sees the band delve into themes of space, isolation, and human connection. Spurrred on by their childhood fascination with all things outer space, there are clear ties to several pieces.

Most notably, The Space Between reflects onnot only the vast distances in the universe, but ever widening personal connections. Elsewhere, the Beatle-y Not The Season and Hendrix-y (think Purple Haze) The Unhounded Now partner tranquil moods with funky grooves. The distinctly casual tempos reach a peak on A Wave Away while both Dead Tree Shake (great title that describes the song perfectly) and the title track return to the charm of the riff. The latter punctuates the eight minute adventure with typically intergalactic ambient sounds. A smooth and soothing cosmic excursion.

An astute observer of human behaviour and interaction, Findlay Napier’s long-in-gestation, crowdfunded spectacular graces the airwaves with a locker packed full of classy and pithy songwriting.

With Boo Hewerdine donning the producer’s hat and a supporting cast of repute (fine lead guitar from Neill Macoll on Oh Amy for starters), Outsider sees him channeling a dazzling array of stylings from rocking Country Americana to shuffling swing to rockabilly and the Folk Rock itches which he scratches with The Magpie Arc. The Greatest Of All Time also sees him taking up a melancholy stance of faded reflection with a Gallic ambience.

Lyrically, the inspiration from the sublimely mundane – An Extensive List Of Lost Things (“I lost sight of what’s important when I lost you”) – to the intimate and touching, packed with an air of lonesome and longing. Who would have thought “oh, ooh, Fidel” would provide such an earworm? A songwriting masterclass full to the brim of memorable lines, wit and perception. The expanded book from The Bothy Society is a treasure trove that provides detailed insight to an album that’s not just a fine gathering of songs. Oh – and some very decent playing too!

If ever an album gave a good indication of the contents by the sleeve, this is it. Billed as “a journey through dark and light” a man (Riis) sits in deep contemplation in monochrome – could even be an alternative title for the fifth album from Airbag guitarist Bjorn Riis. Dipping into acoustic moods, arty melancholy and driving rock, while channelling personal struggles of panic and flight, his trademark (ie, Gilmour/Hackett/Rothery-esque) achingly melodic lead lines continue to provide the appeal and don’t disappoint. The length of both the title track and Panic Attack give him the chance to delight his followers and those in need of some Floydian splendour.

One wag has re-named the title track as ‘Pink Sabbath’ (Panic Attack’s heftier part is more dramatic Opeth) but Fimbulvinter isn’t just all about searing solos. There’s driving rock in the splendid Gone and gentle acoustic opening may be an unexpected surprise. She is frankly lovely

Nothing revolutionary, the apple not falling too far from the tree, but always a treat to hear music from the Airbag stable.

The improv Space Rock pioneers fill their 34th (!) album with another lengthy bout of astral travelling. A couple of hours of space rocking comes quite naturally and there are no qualms about kicking off with the title track. A little fifty minute ditty that dances in and around hypnotic basslines. Colouring in brightly before a the sonic direction places us right into the depths of the outer limits.

Estrela is the perfect place for the perfect soundtrack in which to get lost with very few disruptions to the reverie. The heavier section in the latter part of Slow To Fast First Rays see the drums surface to lead the charge and a heavier presence continues into the kaleidoscopic Weberian Bass. The latter benefiting from delving into a more straightforward Psych Rock vibe.

The natural urge towards experimentalism sees Tangle Foot Badger (beer inspired maybe?) veer into some form of found sounds. And found words and phrases too as Ambientic Echoes alerts the spellcheck whilst building up another bass groove led portion of seductive trance.

You have to admire the sheer audacity and obvious sheer joy with which the Collective simply head off and out to goodness knows where and just enjoy the creation of a journey with which we can share. Indulgence at its finest!

Following up in rather smart fashion on Minstrel Of The Wasteland, Stephen Lawson emerges from a post apocalyptic wasteland to explore the possibilities offered by AI. Augmenting his lyrical sharpness with images which are beautifully created bleak and disturbing, yet in turn provide the accompaniment to twelve songs whose subject matter is rich and varied. The map crosses the complexities of physics, entropy, thermo-dynamcs and the good old love songs (where ‘care’ is pronounced with a scouse ‘curr’ by both Lawson and fellow vocalist Rachel Lawson).

From the vibrant Beatles/Byrds jangle of Be Thin to Golden Sun just missing Ian Telfer’s fiddle to make it an Oysterband staple. From the contemplation of Quantum Love to the new wave fizz on Score and the Tom Petty influences in The Ravages Of Love. Voices From The Ege has more than its fair share of hooks and seductive melodies.

An absorbing set, that in the same way that AI should enhance rather than replace, follows the Bluenose hopes that love will triumph over hate.

Taking a break from renaissance and medieval minstrelling with husband Ritchie, Candice Night releases her first solo album in a decade. As expected, the musical direction takes a different path yet with the friendly warmth of her soothing vocal at the core.

From the title track and a bouncy Unsung Hero, Line Between gets a more stark arrangement, one which is a constant presence through Sea Glass. Maybe a conscious effort not to over-egg the cake. The subtle piano of Promise Me and Last Goodbye are all romantic and sentimental angst and interestingly, Angel And Jezebel gets both a ‘rock’ version and a ‘back porch’ version. Compare and contrast and good to hear alternative options as Candice hedges her bets. The voice remaining much the same, the ‘rock’ less of the heavy and more of the Gospel, while the ‘porch’ more organic and rustic and pedal steel doing its job.

The day job does rear its head with the mystical arrangement of Dark Carnival as an instrumental interlude, but Sea Glass offers a deeper look at the singer songwriter within.

Musical nomad with what you might call an ‘interesting’ CV, Mark Mulholland returns with Fighting With Your Shadow. Just one of the songs inspired by phrases cropping up in conversations and encounters, which call upon that same rich tapestry of experiences. Think Ringo and his A Hard Day’s Night.

The Mulholland delivery conjures up what we’ve been missing since the loss of Tom Petty – with added sneer that’s more Dylan than Lydon and fits perfectly in the Somebody Else’s Problem fame and makes its presence felt throughout.

On a set that relies on quality songs and a distinct lack of indulgence in any soloing mullarkey, the country folk and rootsy rock diversions see Sleepwalking live up to its nickname/working title of ‘Greasy Groove’ and there’s a feelgood positivity to Best Of Times. An ode to things not being as grim as they seem the lo-fi and “weary, drunken sloppiness of A Country Song brings down the curtain yet on repeat listens, and as one of the album highlights Face In The Mirror plays, the realisation dawns that you simply can’t beat good songs.

The band fronted by the classically trained Amy Kyle, the Latin/Folk/Jazz/Soul of Bulldog is as far from the rather quaint image of the (presumably French) bulldog on a snazzy velvet chair that greets us listeners.

The bane of her childhood, the minor key, is relaxed and the ‘sad songs’ aren’t totally absent. The scars of Piece Of Blue ensure a healthy portion of pathos. Less bulldog for sure but definitely snazzy and smooth, maybe just missing a trick in not going for a rich red velvet to match the backdrop of a late nite Latin cabaret club that the music suggests.

Dashes of discreet strings accompany the basic guitar/bass/drums outfit on a cool and A run of titles that say it all, doing what it very much suggests on the tin. Cherry Moon, Rainbow Soul, Sunrise Symphony and namechecks for New York and San Francisco, all deliver on relaxing moods, easy tempos, easy listening and a timelessly Gallic flavour.

Double bassist, composer, and arranger, Misha Mullov-Abbado has worked for a decade with a sextet of well-respected London jazz musicians, enabling his music to really take flight. The compositions and arrangements reflect different aspects of his life, including his connection with Brixton and tributes to his marriage. A wonderfully diverse range of musical influences weave through this dynamic exploration of jazz music, affording an engaging swing and even danceability.

Particular highlights are Traintracker and Canção de Sobriedade. The former reflects in a musical format the atmosphere and rhythms imbued in the London train network. His double bass work has a flow and sense of melody that is quite exceptional, perfectly complemented by Scott Chapman’s pulsating drumming. Magnificent spiky solos from piano, saxophone and drums project a real edge to the music.

Canção de Sobriedade cascades the wonderful sound of samba, where the double bass work really shines, providing both an anchor and improvisational impetus. Liam Dunachie’s sparkling piano runs are a motif for the irresistible danceability of this piece, as is the work of the magnificent horn section. The engineering and production on the album is also quite excellent, providing a crystal clarity for all the instruments.

It seems nearly a lifetime since the flame haired Berenyi was turning heads as part of Lush, 1987 – 1996, one of the original “shoegazing” bands. Musically, this is a world away from Lush, if not the times that begat that band. Echoes of various lodestone influences run riot; variously, Pet Shop Boys, New Order and a smidgeon of Massive Attack seep in, an overall summation being perhaps the sort of superior froth of Dubstar, not least given the vocal timbre of Berenyi. Good tunes, well constructed and the sort of stuff that leaves a lingering, if nostalgic, aftertaste.

Opener, 8th Deadly Sin, sets well the template. An intro that first suggests a burst of euphoric trance, songs then alternate between bright summer sun and a glitchy edginess. Topics covered range from the perils of social media to the menopause and depression, yet manage always to sound joyous. Personal highlights include the Giorgio Moroder meets Hawkwind of Hurricane and A Different Girl with a salsa strum of surf guitar against densely programmed beats, but it is all good.

Rufus and Chaka Khan were a powerhouse of soul and funk. The unique mezzo soprano vocals of Chaka Khan, capable of delivering both immense soul driven power and a gentle emotionally charged handling of ballads. Stompin’ At The Savoy was recorded live in New York in February 1982 and was a reunion which brought together Rufus and Chaka Khan for the final time. 

The performances are uniformly excellent across this live recording. Particular stand outs are transcendent readings of Sweet Thing and Pack’d My Bags, imbued with passion and emotion, and some of Chaka Khan’s finest vocals (NB – You might want to check out Chaka Khan’s Tiny Desk Concert from June of last year).

The audience response at the conclusion of Sweet Thing tells you just how good the performance is. Also included are studio recordings, including the massive hit Ain’t Nobody, which is the most infectious and danceable soul classic of the 1980s.

This reissue comes in a two CD package, including the final Rufus studio album, Seal In Red, recorded without Chaka Khan, and informative new sleeve notes by Lois Wilson.

The prospect of ‘songs about the sort of people who tend to fall through the cracks of life and rarely get celebrated’ comes as no surprise. Misfits’ Jamboree is signature Terence Blacker. The sort of style that sits nicely with Beans On Toast and some of Henry Priestman’s work. Dare we even say George Harrison..?

No, Sorry, It’s Gone eases in a set full of George Formby for the 21st Century musings. The ground covered is far and wide. Fever dreams of swapping places with James Taylor, performative emotion (!) and the club singers (a la Vic Reeves maybe?) who do their turns for the love of it.

The Latin sway of The Crying Game typically has us hanging on the words as the tale unfolds. Everyone’s Annoying In Their Own Special Way could be a maudlin Morrissey effort but offers a list song of those irritations complete with short pauses to digest and titter. The very splendid Clicheville you could even hear soundtracking a Laurel & Hardy film. It’s all just Terence on guitar that ranges from bouncy strums and fingerpicking to bluesy runs and flamenco flashes with a brief dash of Sale Of The Century organ on Let’s Go Out And Pretend We’re Happy.

An album that along with Jon Boden’s Parlour Ballads makes the most of the sort of warm nostalgia that’s a long gone time.