Airbag – the go to alternative if you’re ever pining for a bit of Pink Floyd. The Norwegians doing on what a good live album should do and delivering a lyrically melancholic yet musically uplifting set that combines the best of their music in a live setting.

Guitarist Bjorn Riis leads the way on a set of languid outpourings that, by their own admission, lean heavily on the inspiration of the giants of Prog Rock. Nothing wrong with that and yes, they can do the shorter, sharper bouts of driving Rock as they do on Tyrants And Kings and Machines And Men and dip occasionally into some bluesy licks.

However, it’s the slabs of unhurried progressive art music sees them at their best when there are no boundaries and the music stretches out as on the opening Dysphoria and twenty minutes of Homesick which bookend the set. The latter could easily make the link with fans of Progmeister Wilson – just take in the opening couple of minutes with a suitably dark presence: “It’s funny how my life just falls apart…” There’s a thought – a twenty minute gateway track!

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Litania formed in 2024, gathering members from Elli De Mon (which tweaks our interest having expedienced some Pagan Blues in the past)) , The Great Northern X, Collars and The Black Heart Procession. Their debut album is a mesmeric eight tracks of evocative, hypnotic doom, where the raw power of guitars crosses swords with the spiritual depth of Indian classical music.

Armed with traditional Rock instruments plus harmonium, drones and sitar, the opening couple of minutes of Manansi Devi complete with growling basslines has enough seductive power to hook and strike. Add Elisa De Munari’s hypnotic vocals based around Indian Ragas, and the combo is lethal. Switching between lively hooks and downright demonic riffing, all in the course of one three minute song spotlights exactly what they called being “suspended between abyss and transcendence.”

Credit to Marco Degli Esposti for the downtuned and overdriven guitar work. Often found awaiting, nay lurking, around the edges of a drone, ready to pounce with a massive guitar landmine or a devastating riff. Psychedelic atmospheres take on a new cloak and with the light fading on Fading Light, return trips are compulsory. Tremendous – and refreshing – stuff.

Pleasure always, to greet more Pain, perhaps best known as one of the lead voices for Nouvelle Vague, bearers of bossa-tinted covers, encompassing punk and new wave standards, morphed into a Gallic sheen of easy listening. Her 4th solo release, maybe wisely she strays slightly from the template of her occasional band, now with songs self-written, bar one, which see moving a little further afield than the latin-lite of the Vague. Not that far, mind, as she remains locked into a shimmery ethereality of strings and a muted band, ideally suiting her silky, smoky tones.

To be fair, this album offers a lot more variation, if taking a few plays for that to become apparent. The arrangements are subtle and sensual, blowing a gentle ripple through a number of styles. Woodwind, horns, acoustic guitars and brushed drums feature strongly, all just the job to bathe her faux-innocent charms in.

Highlights are the dreamy Magnolia, the jazzy chanson of Colours In The Dark and the bleak Cohen-esque Cold Hand, a moody duet with Brian Lopez. The one cover is the bass driven Senden Daha Güzel, by Turkish cult band, Duman, which deals a tasty imagining of Grace Jones in the style of Altered Images, and is one for your Christmas dinner playlist.

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An all but forgotten band, Hem, this Brooklyn band launched into many a playlist, with their gorgeous slo-mo take on Red Shoes, as in the ones that Elvis Costello said the Angles wanted to wear. That was 1982, but this earlier album is the go to, for their small but perfectly formed fan base.

If the 1980’s were best known for kitchen sink productions, composite fairlight layers, all compressed to buggery, the chilly simplicity of their chamber country made for a refreshing contrast. Calling card and secret weapon was, and is, the band being currently back in the studio, the voice of singer, Sally Ellyson. a light jazzy effervescence.

Pianos play, glockenspiels glock and steel guitars shimmer and the feel and mood is of better times, wistful and sweet. Country is, in their hands, a warm and generous host, with the moods moving from appalachian porch to lobby lounge, with the odd roadhouse along the way. Just the original album, with one bonus track, highlights are the the lush When I Was Drinking, Betting On Trains and a transcendent version of old timey favourite, The Cuckoo. But it is the occasional instrumental interludes that give as much pleasure, such as the woodwind and string drenched Burying Song, which I could happily have played at mine.

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A new name to those outside her home city, with the clue in the record label name, Gair has been a regular on the city’s gig scene for a at least this year, aided and abetted by a flurry of singles from this, her debut release. Classified most easily under singer-songwriter means no awkward decisons around whether it is folk, americana or even indie, but each fit the various feet that tap out of these 9 tracks.

Opener, Never Be Mine, offers a firm flavour of what’s in store, and if you are not taken with her voice, which you should be, wallow in the mellow string arrangement and Alan Thomson’s lovely fretless bass. Through the lonely roadhouse of the title track and the gaunt heft of Steal Away and the poppy sparkle of O, Jimmy, there’s something for any listener to engage with. Some Glasgow Latino infuses the infectious Kitchen Dancing with a flavour of a well-refreshed Eddi Reader, that reference still extant for the more sombre closer, White Horses, for when all the dancing is done.

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The Marillion singer has something of a nice little solo option to which he can turn in times when the Marilllo machine lies dormant. Oft found sat solo at the piano, SPQR finds him combining with the sympathetic might of RanestRane and the Flowing Chords choir for a tweak which succeeds rather well.

The focus is quite wide – Marillion classics and a selection from his solo work including Acid Rain from the pre-Marillion days. While the opening part of the set is Hogarth solo and captures some of the impromptu nature of these events (“any requests?“), the set really kicks off when the band join the party.

Credit where it’s due, the combination does a sterling job with the fuller arrangements. Estonia retains a poignancy and Go! and the climax of Man Of A Thousand Faces offer apples that haven’t fallen too far from the tree. The finale of Easter is beautifully done with the additional voices giving a hymnal quality to one of the day job’s undeniable classics. Nice when you have a sideline that’s (almost – but not quite) as good as the real thing!

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San Diego is surely the ideal place for a Psychedelic desert rock trio. With the likes of Kennel And The Dog and Which One Is The Jellyfish? on the playlist, the latter in particular leading the way with a irresistible scuzzy and raw groove, possibly in the ‘worth the price of admission alone’ bracket, an encounter in Aunt Cynthia’s Cabin, with Misty Woman, is unmissable.

Lo-fi and languid, the tunes cast a long shadow with their dashes of shimmering organ and stoned out moods. The typical horror flick artwork hinting at what what may lie in wait; possibly like In The Valley, a false expectation yet with a hint, most notably in the title track that some sort of treasures lie within. a meandering and moody magnificence with a nonplussed attitude.