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The general consensus has it that Malcolm John Rebennack Jr. has been coasting a little of late - mind you he is well over eighty years old, and onto his thirtieth album, so he’s entitled to kick back a little – but long term fans will be delighted with this effort, and all it needed was for the good Dr to get good and mad about the hideous treatment (or more truthfully appalling lack of help) meted out to his New Orleans hometown after Hurricane Katrina. Willie Nelson and Eric Clapton lend a hand but this is pure Dr John gospel-tinged swamp blues and the best thing he has put his name to in eons.
Ray Harper

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If Probe Plus were only responsible for releasing Half Man Half Biscuit records, that alone would make them a national treasure worth celebrating, and worthy of a massive lottery grant, but the Liverpool based label is also home to John Peel faves Calvin Party and this lot, Liverpool's premier psychedelic folk outfit. If you have a yearning for granddad shirts, bellbottoms, joss sticks, Jefferson Airplane and The Grateful Dead or have worn your Fairport Convention and Incredible String Band records wafer thin then this may just offer succour, it should also appeal to young tykes bored with the current crop of interchangeable indie rockers.
Ruby Palmer

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After initial doubts about the longevity of the ‘music making machine’ blueprint first laid down by Kraftwerk, and then complaints aimed at the cold clinical digital developments made in Detroit it must be pretty galling for the anti drum machine brigade to see acts like LCD Soundsystem or The Knife doing so well in 2007, and arguments that music made with machines have no soul, humour or warmth are about to get blown out of the water by this lyrical little beauty. Imagine Byrne and Eno’s My Life In The Bush of Ghosts busked by Smog and you won’t go far wrong, indie-techno blues-folk anyone?


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Ah, the warm fuzzy glow that enveloped this reviewer as a newly reconvened J Mascis, Lou Barlow and Murph slotted straight back into that fog thick, chorus laden, riffage – and let’s not forget this is one of the less likely reunions given Mascis and Barlow’s well documented falling out after third album Bug (check out Barlow's ‘The Freed Pig’ on Sebadoh III for his take on the acrimonious split). A major influence on grunge, and of course consequently Nirvana, Dinosaur Jr’s overdriven sonic soup still sounds exactly as it did in their late 80s heyday, and is as welcome as a warm duvet on a chilled winters evening.


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The Damned may not top many revisionist ‘greatest punk' lists (Captain Sensible ensuring the goofy factor remained too high) but, released in February 1977, they were the first of the UK branch to make it onto long playing vinyl and, even today, this clatters along in a fine old ragged style. This expanded three disc edition also includes a previously unreleased and suitably raucous bootleg of their first ever gig at the 100 Club (July ’76) and a mountain of sessions, demos and live cuts – although it’s debatable just how many versions of ‘New Rose’, ‘So Messed Up’ or indeed ‘Fan Club’ (four of each) even the most deranged fan needs.


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Hands up who’s sick to bloody death of introspective, wordy singer/songwriters? Go on, be honest, there’s so many of the buggers around you can barely go out without tripping over some git emoting over his gently thrumming acoustic guitar. All of which makes championing a new one all the more difficult but really, you should listen to this guy. Try and imagine equal parts Van Morrison, Paul Simon and Tracy Chapman - hard to imagine it's true - but check out So Much More and you'll see what we mean as his nifty way with a word, jazzy way with a tune and distinctive voice make him well worth wading through all the duffers to reach.


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Once an integral part of jazz fusion super-group Return To Forever (with Stanley Clark, Lenny White and of course Chick Corea), Al Di Meola may not be the most widely known of the guitar greats but he is undoubtedly one of the finest, marrying lightning fast technique with subtle nuance, he is in fact the man who ensured our esteemed editor layed down his own guitar in despair. This, his first album in four years, sees him reunited with his old boss Corea and a stellar cast of players, further extending his exploration of Eastern and Latin American themes and proves time hasn’t dimmed the man's fearsome abilities.


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After two strong albums, a cracking memoir and Martin Scorsese’s compelling documentary, Dylan’s critical stock is probably at its highest point since the late 1960s. There is, then, a real sense of expectation about his first studio set for five years, but those hoping for a late-period masterpiece should prepare to be disappointed. Too many mid-paced ambles – the worst offender being ‘Beyond the Horizon’ – conspire to make Modern Times a rather pedestrian experience. It’s not all bad news, of course, with ‘Nettie Moore’ a touchingly unambiguous love song and ‘Ain’t Talkin’’ spinning the record out to a memorably mysterious conclusion.


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****************************************************************** Ani Difranco
Reprieve (Righteous Babe)

Ms DiFranco is certainly something of an acquired taste – unreconstructed ‘blokes’ need not bother their tiny minds about this – a poster girl for the DIY folk scene (just as likely to use sound effects, pump organs or, erm, bicycle pumps as acoustic guitars) Reprieve sees her in downbeat, laid back mood, although lyrical barbs aimed at the cult of personality, network news, stolen elections and her regular bugbear patriarchy can be found sandwiched between the personal confessionals. If you have never come across her before think Rickie Lee Jones meets John Martyn via Germaine Greer and you won’t be too far out.


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Neil Hannon – who, to all intents and purposes, is the Divine Comedy – has certainly had an interesting career trajectory. An unlikely ‘alternative’ high prince in the mid ‘90s, he can now call on the resources of Parlophone to finance his string-laden and somewhat unfashionable pop vision. 2004’s Absent Friends revealed a renaissance in Hannon’s songwriting, and there’s no sign of that abating on this new album. ‘Diva Lady’ bolts a typically witty lyric to a sturdy tune, while ‘A Lady of a Certain Age’ is almost unbearably poignant. A nifty cover of The Associates’ ‘Party Fears Two’ blends in seamlessly.


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Although hardly a household name here in the UK Damien Dempsey has been recognised as a massive talent in his native Ireland - much like David Gray before him - for a while now, his mixture of rebel singer songwriters Christy Moore and Bob Marley the most exciting, if initially unnatural sounding, blending of genres to come along in eons, and if on studio recordings to date Damien has struggled somewhat to find a comfortable mix of these disparate styles this live album nails it brilliantly (not least by featuring the audience so high in the mix). Do yourselves a favour and track this down, this guy deserves to be huge.


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Arguments about what should have been included on this ‘best of...’ collection, and what shouldn’t will doubtless continue to rage (there have been a fair few complaints that the Scott Groove, Ian Pooley and Gabrielle Daft Punk remixes should have been binned in favour of more of Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo’s own material), but most people will just be happy to see the track listing includes ‘Da Funk’, ‘Around The World’, ‘One More Time’ plus several other immediately recognisable floor fillers, and doubly relieved to find the whole shebang still comes across as fresh and shiny as a newly unpacked mirror ball.


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Dig Jelly
For Your Inner Angry Child (Centreline)

If Dig Jelly can be accused of anything it’s a collecting such a surfeit of ideas under one roof it's impossible to know what sort of house you are in. Imagine a head on collision between a death metal and hip hop outfit or Garbage inhabiting a hi-octane Manga cartoon or how about Fleetwood Mac crossed with stoner sludge riffage and decks? Yup there are that many Dig Jelly’s and in truth not all of ‘em cut it, but having too many ideas is no sort of complaint in these days of anodyne chart cover versions and gormless punk lite ramalama. They’re due in the UK sometime later this year and on this evidence you should check ‘em out.


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Stephen Duffy
I Love My Friends (Cooking Vinyl)

There will doubtless be those amongst you who recall Stephen was an (albeit very early) original member of Duran Duran and also had a short ‘pop’ career sporting a fetching Tin Tin wedged betwixt fore and surname (or indeed as part of The Lilac Time). It is also possible that unless you love your pop ‘lite’ and your pop stars ‘lightweight’ then you may have dismissed this when first released in 1998. You would however be doing Mr D a grave disservice as this (newly expanded) collection of clever, well constructed, though provoking and self deferential songs prove Duffy to be an artist of no little talent..


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Deep Purple
Rapture Of The Deep (Edel)

Come on, own up, what odds would you have offered on a new album by Deep Purple (Mk VIII, no Lord and Blackmore, but with Paice, Glover and Gillan), being anything other than yesterdays warmed over metal? Fortunately we’re not betting types here at TM-Online and Rapture Of The Deep would not have sounded out of place had it been released between Fireball and Machine Head, new(ish) members Don Airey and Steve Morse forging exactly the sort of thunderous convoluted Hammond and guitar licks Blackmore and Lord excelled in. Thirty five years after they helped invent this music Deep Purple show the young upstarts how it's done.


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Bob Dylan
No Direction Home – The Soundtrack: Bootleg Series Vol. 7 (Columbia)

Released to tie in with the Martin Scorsese film of the same name, and much like previous releases in the Bootleg series, this collection manages to both offer something new to Dylan fans of old (although dedicated Bobcats will doubtless already own much here), and young fans discovering Dylan for the first time alike. From high school recordings in 1959 via cracking live cuts and alternate recorded takes up to the mans combative thunder through Like A Rolling Stone in front of pissed off luddite folkies, for many this is Dylan in his absolute prime, add an excellent booklet and you have a nie on perfect package

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Diesel Park West
Shakespeare Alabama (Food)

Found, albeit rather briefly, all over the music press in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s Diesel Park West sadly failed to translate these column inches into sales and promptly slipped back into obscurity, managing just three albums on Food records before grinding to an ignominious halt. That said this is certainly the best of the three – think Simple Minds if they had Waterboy Mike Scott on vocals – displaying a fine ear for pop hooks, big choruses and a nice line in widescreen jangle and now boasting a further eight tracks (many of which are previously unreleased) and a lick and spit in the re-mastering dept giving this a sonic edge it lacked first time around


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The Departure
Dirty Words (Parlophone)

Sounding not at all unlike an angular, slashing, new-wave, punk-funk version of U2 fronted by Richard Butler (of Psychedelic Furs fame) whilst also proving to have several well tuned lug-holes for a chart friendly chorus is no small balancing act but, despite having barely left their mothers wombs, this five piece from Northampton - who have to date scarcely managed to finish one tour support slot before heading straight off on yet another - manage to do just that with huge great dollops of bold, self belief that belie their youth (bastards), and should definitely see them scaling a chart near you very soon


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Daft Punk
Human After All (Virgin)

Steadfastly having no truck with the notion that dance music is dead (it isn’t of course), or indeed any problem with the theory that if something ain’t broke why fix it? Daft Punk once again weigh in with Krautrock laden motorik beats, vocodered vocals and a cavalier disregard for anything other than straightforward repetitious floor-friendly thudding. Of course when you do something this well it seems a little churlish to wonder how long you can keep ploughing the same furrow but for the time being let’s just be happy that the helmet wearing Gallic beat-miesters are keeping the disco flag gallantly aloft.


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Doves
Some Cities (Heavenly)

Widely held to be a ‘back-to-basics’ effort on the part of this Manchester Trio – especially when held up to their widescreen predecessor The Last Broadcast – Some Cities finds the band looking long and hard at their hometown of Manchester and couching the results in a far more immediately accessible blanket of sound (even harking back the old Sub Sub days of yore). Of course this scaled down approach has had a fair amount of ‘I liked ‘em better before…’ type bleating from some fans but discarding the odd stick-in-the-mud dope for the sake of experimentation didn’t harm Radiohead and it won’t harm Doves


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Gavin DeGraw
Chariot (J Records)

Compared elsewhere to such ‘adult contemporary’ acts as Maroon 5 and Matchbox Twenty, Gavin DeGraw hit the big time across the pond after supplying the theme tune to US TV show One Tree Hill (with a track called I Don’t Wanna Be), and hasn’t looked back since. Still a relative unknown this side of the Atlantic the comparisons mentioned above are probably as good a starting point as any for this avowedly grown up and unquestionably talented singer songwriter. It just remains to be seen if he can rise above the swell of similarly orientated performers paddling around the charts nether regions right now


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DJ Format
If You Can’t Join ‘Em Beat ‘Em (Genuine/PIAS)

The title makes it clear from the off that words, and the way they are used, are of paramount importance to Matt ‘DJ Format’ Ford – see also 2002’s Music For The Mature B-Boy – this is a hip-hop record that celebrates lyrical dexterity over the mundane plodding gangsta boasts favoured by most major labels today. The vocals are delivered by Canadian rappers Abdominal and D-Sisive and ably underpinned by Format’s clattering rhythms and wooby funk-friendly bass. Old skool in all the best, and most positive, ways Format and chums prove it’s sometimes important to go back so you can move forward.


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Deep Purple
Burn (EMI)

Having shed vocalist Ian Gillan and bass player Roger Glover in the mid '70s one of the holy triptych of great Brit metal bands Deep Purple then engaged David Coverdale and Glenn Hughes to create Deep Purple mark III (let's not even go to the Rod Evans years). Fans held their breath, but the results proved to be a great high-speed bluesy behemoth of a band. Quite why anyone decided to do four pointless remixes as bonus cuts is a mystery, but ignore the extra tracks and what remains is a classic Brit rock moment that still stands up well today.


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Dogs Die In Hot Cars
Please Describe Yourself (V2)

They’re doubtless soon going to tire of the comparisons but if you want a hefty nudge in the general direction of what this lot sound like you need look no further than early pop period XTC and Talking Heads as the idiotically named DDIHC judder, jerk and generally spazz around in a very, very endearing manner indeed. Lyrically the comparisons also hold water (don’t go looking for any ‘moon in June-isms here matey), which prompts the question ‘why the hell can’t all pop music be this joyous and intelligent?’ No covers, no cod soul wailing, no styling make-overs, just quality hi-octane, well executed punky pop.


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Def Leppard
Best Of… (Mercury)

OK, so it’s dead easy, but having a pop at Def Leppard in the UK press has become almost a national pastime. Sexist lyrics, hair by mullets-r-us and a career based solely around huge great chant-along choruses. But lest we forget, several of those chant-along choruses are actually pretty good (if you don’t yodel along to Pour Some Sugar On Me when sloshed you’re probably already dead) and although there's plenty of Def-by-numbers here this is a band that not only kept their drummer when he lost an arm, but put their careers on hold whilst he learned to play again. Cool huh?


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