Van Morrison/The Little Willies Pay the Devil (Polydor) £12.99 The Little Willies (Milking Bull/Blue Note) £12.99
Country music is the natural refuge of the forlorn, and famous people feel this way too, sometimes. The Little Willies are the New York covers band enlivened by Norah Jones, whose dulcet jazzy tones stop these songs by Hank Williams and Kris Kristofferson, among others, from descending into bar-band smugness. Morrison, meanwhile, puts his bearlike growl through the emotional wringer with old chestnuts like 'Your Cheatin' Heart' and three new songs. While both have their moments, there's a simplicity and consistency to Morrison's album that could teach the show-off Willies a thing or two.
Kitty Empire
Stereolab Fab Four Suture (Too Pure) £10.99
Stereolab's last album, the wistful, hazy Margerine Eclipse, showed signs that the experimental pop veterans were getting stuck in a groove that was interesting to them but few others. On their first album in two years, the Anglo-French band, who suffered the death of their distinctive co-vocalist, Mary Hansen, at the end of 2002, have found a vital new focus. 'Get a Shot of the Refrigerator' is drum-driven autobahn music, while the tongue-twisting 'Kyberneticka Babicka Pts 1 and 2' (that's 'Cybernetic Nanny' in Czech) gurgles along on a wordless refrain of 'Aah, aah, aah' that is quite captivating.
Lynsey Hanley
Mystery Jets Making Dens (679) £10.99
You may feel rock'n'roll rebellion has died out the day you hear about a band whose singer has his 55-year-old dad on rhythm guitar. Then you listen to the Mystery Jets' long-awaited debut and remember that age - or filial loyalty - is no bar to making great music. On the evidence of the invigoratingly odd 'You Can't Fool me, Dennis', Henry Harrison, singer Blaine Harrison's rock-obsessed dad, has spent years drilling his charges in King Crimson and the Who. But they're at their best when creating something new out of their influences, as on the exhilarating 'Zoo Time', which is among this year's best tracks so far.
Lynsey Hanley
Morning Runner Wilderness Is Paradise Now (Parlophone) £10.99
There is a brain-dulling tendency among a certain kind of British rock band to mistake the liberal use of pianos for profundity, and high-pitched male wheezing for sensitivity. On their first album, Reading's Morning Runner subscribe to Coldplay's patented musical strategy (as do Keane, Starsailor, Embrace and their interchangeable chums). A piano plinks like the strings of a bleeding heart, singer Matthew Greener whelps like a man in need of looser pants, and only occasionally, as on the upbeat 'Have a Good Time' and the angry, less inert 'Punching Walls', do they show signs of having a distinct selling point.
Lynsey Hanley
Bobby Wellins When the Sun Comes Out (Trio) £13.99
No other tenor saxophonist in the world sounds quite like Wellins. His gentle yet passionate tone could add lustre to the most banal musical idea, but I doubt whether he has had a banal idea in his long career. Even a tune as familiar as 'When You Wish Upon a Star' becomes filled with mysterious possibilities. This set was recorded live at last summer's Appleby Festival, 40 years after Wellins first made his mark in Stan Tracey's classic Under Milk Wood, but his playing sounds as fresh and exciting as ever. Great band, too, especially drummer Spike Wells, who seems to read the soloist's mind.
Dave Gelly
Rokia Traore Live (Indigo) DVD, £15.99
This film - part profile, part live in concert - lovingly follows singer-songwriter Rokia Traore from back home in rural Mali to Paris, where she lives now: Rokia asleep on a train; in the studio with the Kronos Quartet; in existential conversation with chef Pierre Gagnaire; backstage at La Cigale. It makes you realise how rarely we get such access to African artists. But then Traore is a gift - a cosmopolitan diplomat's daughter with traditional sensibilities and new ideas, not to mention the quiet grace of a dancer, guitar licks learnt from Ali Farka Toure and a tremulously expressive voice that leaves her Paris audience rapt.
Carol McDaid
