'Dark On Fire' by Turin Brakes

Funny one, this. 'Dark On Fire' is one of those albums that just won't work its way into my conciousness, however many chances I give it. It made little impression on me when it came out, and I've returned to it several times since, enjoying it each time, but for some reason, it just won't stick.

I like it, though. Lots of it is really good - 'Stalker', 'Something In My Eye', the title track (even if it does sound like 'Dog On Fire') are all great, and there are no particular weak spots. It just doesn't have enough distintiveness to sound out. I'm all for bands trying new approaches, so it seems harsh to criticise them for recording an album with a more 'live band' approach, but the downside is that they sound like a band rather than a duo quite a lot of the time. That isn't a bad thing in itself, but you get less of the harmonies, and less of the delicate nature of previous Turin Brakes albums.

I spent a couple of days listening to this album fairly solidly, and I did enjoy it. A couple of days on, and I find it hard to recall many of the tracks very clearly. However, I'll come back to it again - and eventually, I'll crack it.

‘Dangerous People’ by Noel Richards

I hadn’t listened to a Noel Richards album for many years – probably a decade – until I listened to ‘Calling All Nations’ a couple of weeks ago. I knew then that this was coming up, and it bothered me. It bothered me because I’d found ‘Calling All Nations’ such hard work, but I didn’t want that to be true for ‘Dangerous People’, as I was pretty fond of Noel Richards’ music back when this was released.

Happily, this remains a much better album than the one that followed it. It’s a little dated now, perhaps inevitably, and it’s welded so strongly to it’s stadium worship context that it’s difficult to comprehend it in any other setting, but it still has proper tunes, and an energy that ‘Calling All Nations’ was entirely lacking.

Interestingly, the album works best at either end of a scale. The most obviously ‘built-for-stadium’ tracks work well (‘Love Songs From Heaven’, ‘Keep On Praying’, ‘There Is No-one Like Our God’), though the lyrics don’t stand up to a great deal of scrutiny, presumably as they were designed to be sung in large groups and therefore accessible to all. At the other end of the scale is ‘You Are My Passion’, a mostly acoustic track which serves as a reminder of how effective a songwriter Richards can be when stripped of all the bluster – the Richards who wrote ‘By Your Side’ and ‘You Laid Aside Your Majesty’. The weak points of the album are where it falls between the two ends of the scale – ‘I Do Believe’, and ‘Have You Heard The Good News?’ (a song written by Stuart Garrard of Delirious who served a stint in the Noel Richards band) aren’t bad, but are reasonably unremarkable. Still, these are minor quibbles for an album which holds its own pretty well.

‘Daisies Of The Galaxy’ by Eels

If emotion can be charted on a graph, there was only one direction that ‘Daisies of the Galaxy’ could go, following the ultra-bleak ‘Electro-Shock Blues’. It’s a testament to Mark Everett’s misery that this album was, and arguably still remains, the most upbeat and cheerful record in the Eels back catalogue. Some of it genuinely sounds happy – ‘Grace Kelly Blues’, ‘I Like Birds’ and ‘Tiger In My Tank’ all sound like they were sung with a smile – but much of it is either still run through with a sense of melancholy (‘Jeannie’s Diary’), or an unsettling sense of peculiarity (‘Flyswatter’, ‘The Sound of Fear’). Even amongst the relative cheeriness, Everett still manages to squeeze in track 7. So, despite being the happiest Eels album in existence, it’s an album you’re unlikely to reach for if you want cheering up.

Never-the-less, ‘Daisies of the Galaxy’ is a lovely album. Instrumentally, it’s gentler than ‘Beautiful Freak’, more accessible than ‘Electro-Shock Blues’, and much easier to listen to than ‘Souljacker’, the album that came next. Awash with acoustic instruments and piano, it would make very pleasant background music if it wasn’t for vocals which demand your attention. Even at his most commercially pleasing, Everett refuses to make any kind of music other than exactly what he wants to make, and as usual, he should be applauded for this.

‘d:tour 1997 live’ by Delirious?

By a quirk of alphabetical organisation, we come to this immediately after the four Cutting Edge albums, but miss out ‘King of Fools’, the anchoring album that ties this record to them. Ah well.

Once the Cutting Edge band had changed their name to Delirious and decided to go full time, lots of things happened. All of a sudden, there was a full album, singles, a tour of proper venues, even TV appearances. The first phase of their new lives was concluded with this, a recording from a date on the tour, released, if memory serves, through mail order? I may be making that up.

As it stands, it’s certainly a good document of how things were at the time. Most of ‘King of Fools’ is represented here, as well as a handful of later Cutting Edge tracks. At the time, the tracklisting was a mild disappointment –the ‘King of Fools’ tracks were pretty much as recorded, and the rest had been recently released on the ‘Live and in the Can’ collection, but separated from this context, everything sounds pretty good. The between-song banter from Martin Smith is mildly awkward at points, but full of optimism for the future which proved to be fairly well founded – Delirious would certainly go from strength to strength over the years, though not always in the way they had planned or expected.

Thirteen years later, it’s hard to regard this album as essential. It isn’t – but it does remain a decent listen, and it retains a nostalgic glow for anyone caught up in their trajectory at the time.

‘Cutting Edge 4’ by The Cutting Edge Band (Delirious?)

And so, with volume 4, the Cutting Edge era came to a close. It seems bizarre, listening back to this, that the band were still churning out releases without a proper name at this stage. However, with Jon Thatcher added to the line-up as bassist, this album can stake a claim to being the first proper Delirious? album.

More similar to volume 3 than volume 3 had been to volumes 1 and 2, ‘Cutting Edge 4’ offers a collection of songs largely tailored to performance. There’s no mistaking their Christian message, but the majority of these songs wouldn’t have worked as worship songs even at the Soul Survivors of the world. Some are too too personal, written to closely to the experiences of an individual. Others are just a little too polished. ‘Louder Than The Radio’ and ‘You Split The Earth’ are too polished – carefully arranged and produced, dependant too heavily on Stuart Garrard’s guitar parts and backing vocals to be copied elsewhere. His guitar in particular has taken a leading role in the band’s sound by now. That said, ‘When All Around Has Fallen’ is all bass and piano. And beauty, especially in retrospect. A song that sounded a touch dirge-like a decade and a half ago now sounds very moving (perhaps that’s just me). It would set a template for future songs like ‘Hands of Kindness’ and ‘Summer of Love’, but it also stands apart on it’s own. ‘I’ve Searched For Gold’ is the traditional ‘Martin Smith on his own’ song in the middle. It’s perfectly adequate, but slightly unnecessary – a throwback to a simpler time.

‘Shout To The North’ opens the second half, and is a curious beast. In many ways, it stands at odds with the rest of the album as the only song which would work in a church context (we used to do it all the time). It’s simple enough, catchy enough, and very easy to sing, but it doesn’t really fit, and the presence of the children’s choir doesn’t help much. In retrospect, it may have been better left until ‘Glo’, but I guess that would have required an unprecedented level of foresight. ‘All I Want Is You’ is this albums ‘I’m Not Ashamed’, a straightforward rock track with a personal lyric of commitment. I remember the line ‘can I be free from the chains of my religion’ sounded quite daring at the time, but I guess that’s what you get for being fifteen years old. ‘Obsession’ is the epic finale to the album (and a staple of the live set for a years afterwards), built round a ponderous bassline, and decorated with many lashings of e-bow.

I remember buying this on cassette at Spring Harvest soon after its release and being slightly unsure of it. It sounded good – and it still does, truth be told – but something about it just didn’t quite work. In retrospect, I think this was a sign that the band were outgrowing their context. A short album each year of half a dozen tracks just wasn’t enough any more for them to express what they were aiming for. There was no real indication at the time of the direction they were about to hurtle off into, but all the signs are there.

‘Cutting Edge 3’ by The Cutting Edge Band (Delirious?)

If ‘Cutting Edge 2’ represented a shift in emphasis for the Cutting Edge band, the follow-up was a fundamental shift which altered the course of the band from there on in. From the opening of ‘Did You Feel The Mountains Tremble’, it is apparent that the band have left behind the approach of going into the studio and recording straightforward versions of songs that could be sung in churches. The opening track is lengthy, carefully arranged, and only of use for singing with big crowds. None-the-less, it sounds fantastic, even now. ‘I’ve Found Jesus’ is more straightforward, but similarly un-congregational. ‘Oh Lead Me’ is far simpler, and achievable on a small scale.

The second half (or ‘side’ for those who remember the cassette versions) is structured in much the same way. ‘Shaken Up’ and ‘I’m Not Ashamed’ are great songs written for performance, and ‘Find Me In The River’ is a quieter, gentler end.

The album as a whole is much more ambitious than its predecessors, and in a sense, it sets a template for everything that came afterwards. According to the history of Delirious?, the band made no decision to go full time until after the release of ‘Cutting Edge 4’, but it’s hard to believe the thought hadn’t crossed their mind by this stage.

So far...

‘Cutting Edge 2’ by The Cutting Edge Band (Delirious?)

Released one year later than it’s predecessor, Cutting Edge 2 has some major stylistic differences. Though it remains, largely, a very accessible worship album, there’s more variety within these six tracks, and the beginning of a shift towards arrangement and performance being more developed. ‘The Prophet Song’ and ‘Lead Me’ are unmistakeably worship songs, but would be difficult to sing in a church. ‘The Happy Song’ would work in certain contexts (it did the rounds at Soul Survivor for a few years), but it would be a brave worship leader who attempted it at home (I think I did, once or twice, but I was learning…) Even ‘King Of Love’, in all its simplicity, would be a little to personal to sing in a group. ‘I Could Sing Of Your Love Forever’ is the only track from CE2 to make any kind of a ‘Thank You For Saving Me’ type impact, and it can still be heard in churches today from time to time. ‘Coming Back’, by contrast, was their most mainstream-aimed song yet. I don’t think the band had any secular ambitions at this point (the band still weren’t even a fully formed unit), but this was definitely pointing the way.

Instrumentally, the album followed the template set by the first. It’s largely a mix of acoustic guitar and piano. The addition of Stuart Garrard to the line-up means the electric guitar plays a more prominent role throughout the collection, but only in a supporting role. By Cutting Edge 3, there would a fundamental shift of balance in this direction…

‘Cutting Edge’ by The Cutting Edge Band (Delirious?)

There are lots of albums that I’ve enjoyed over the years, and a good number that I’ve really loved. Few of them, however, had played a more important role than the Cutting Edge albums. Though it was released in 1993, I heard it for the first time a year or so later, just as I was starting to lead worship at my home church, and just as I was starting to get to grips with the guitar. It’s no exaggeration to say that the Cutting Edge band, and later Delirious (as they were to become) wrote some of the most influential Christian songs of the decade, but they also had a style and sound that I found hugely appealing.

Listening back to the first album (I say album, at six tracks long, it’s only really an EP), it’s remarkable how conventional it sounds. Three of the tracks (‘Lord You Have My Heart’, ‘Thank You For Saving Me’ and to a lesser extent, ‘The Crucible For Silver’ went on the be sung in churches across the land, and the first two of those tracks would fit comfortably into all but the most traditional of them. The arrangements to all the songs on the album are very straightforward – at this stage, there wasn’t much of a band really. Front-man and writer Martin Smith, drummer Stewart Smith, and keyboard player Tim Jupp were in place, but the band wouldn’t finally adopt it’s permanent line-up until Cutting Edge 4. As a result, there’s no heavily determined band sound, which is perhaps why the songs spread so far. ‘The Message of the Cross’ and ‘The Singer’s Song’ are less congregationally suitable, but are still very explicitly worship songs. Only ‘What Is This Thing Called Love’ is a sign of how things would develop – less obvious, more performance oriented, and more rock-styled.

'Crying At Tea Time' by Alfie

Alfie were a little known indie band from Manchester who formed in 2000 and disbanded seven years later without achieving any kind of commercial success. They got reasonably good reviews, but unless you read the NME fervently on a weekly basis, your chances of even hearing of them were pretty limited. I don’t think I’d even heard an Alfie song before stumbling on this, their final album, in Tesco bargain bucket. I think it set me back 97p – at that price, I was happy to give it a go.

I’m glad I did. Despite their lack of success, Alfie were, at least on this evidende, a pretty decent act. There’s nothing earth-shattering about this album, but it’s consistently good, with some real highlights (‘Your Own Religion’ and ‘Applecart’ in particular). There was a three month gap between this album being released, and the band calling it a day, so I imagine they poured everything they had into this as a final throw of the dice. It’s a shame it didn’t work, because it should have done.

'Concert' by The Beach Boys

By the time ‘Concert’ was released, the Beach Boys were beginning their climb through new levels of sophistication. ‘I Get Around’ and ‘Fun, Fun, Fun’ had been released, and ‘California Girls’ was only eight months away. Sadly, none of this sophistication is evident on this record. ‘I Get Around’ is there, as is ‘Fun, Fun, Fun’ (though both have been heavily played with, perhaps even replaced in post-production), but the only other Beach Boys originals even present here are ‘In My Room’ and ‘Hawaii’. The rest of the album is devoted to somewhat ropey cover versions of tracks from the era, few of which have aged well. Combine this with a mix that is incredibly treble-happy and dominated by high pitched screaming, and you end up with an album which has virtually no redeeming features at all.

'Come Away With Me' by Norah Jones

Where did Norah Jones come from? In 2001, no-one had heard of her, and yet one year on, she was everywhere, and her debut album was virtually inescapable. All too often when this happens, it shouldn’t. Most artists that leap to that kind of instant fame don’t really deserve too, and either disappear as quickly as they arrived, or stumble through a career of diminishing interest. Norah Jones seems to have largely avoided falling into either of these traps. Admittedly, she’s been unable to repeat the all-out success of ‘Come Away With Me’ but since this album sold over 20 million copies worldwide, that would have been no easy task.

As for the album itself, it holds up well. It’s not the sort of record that’s going to change anyone’s life, on inspire a devoted level of fandom, but its 14 tracks of gentle piano led jazz-lite is a perfectly pleasant listen with just enough variety of texture to keep itself interesting. Jones herself has a good voice, and her band showcase it well – understated enough to let Jones be the star, but with enough flourish to sound like a band, not just a random collection of subservient session musicians.

‘Coldplay Live 2003’ by Coldplay

Released in the year following their second album, ‘A Rush Of Blood To The Head’, ‘Live 2003’ is an amalgamation of two gigs recorded in Sydney. Over its 17 tracks, ‘A Rush Of Blood To The Head’ is represented heavily, the big hitters from ‘Parachutes’ are all present and correct, and a handful of more obscure tracks are thrown in for good measure. It contains few surprises – these gigs weren’t any kind of ‘special event’ – but it’s all good. The performances are strong, Chris Martin is settling well into the role of charismatic front man, and the live setting brings an energy that does prevent this from being a pointless release. To the uninterested, nothing here is going to change opinions, but to the Coldplay fan, this is very worthwhile.

'Christmas With The Beach Boys' by The Beach Boys

Or, ‘why I should have listened to a few more albums in December’. There’s something not quite right about listening to this mid-January. Still, Brian Wilson played ‘Little Saint Nick’ at Glastonbury a few years ago, so it could be worse.

‘Christmas With The Beach Boys’ is a reissue several steps removed from the Beach Boys Christmas album which was released in 1964. At that point, it was their third album of the year, so it can be forgiven for not always hitting the quality target head on. The first five tracks were all Beach Boys originals. ‘Little Saint Nick’ is the only one to have establish itself as a classic, but ‘Santa’s Beard’ and ‘The Man With All The Toys’ are delightfully daft. The next six tracks are Christmas classics, all of which are passable, but none of which are essential. By their nature, they’ve all been recorded by many other artists, and the Beach Boys add little of interest. ‘We Three Kings’ is the exception – not to everyone’s tastes, certainly, but an intriguing listen. ‘Auld Lang Syne’ finishes the original album – a beautiful a-cappella performance demolished by a pointless voice-over message from Dennis Wilson. An unspoilt version is included as a bonus track, along with some alternate versions of ‘Little Saint Nick’ – the single version, with added sleigh-bells, and a demo which is interesting but not good.

The second half of the disc is a collection of Christmas recordings from the 1970s which at some stage may have been turned into an album, but thankfully weren’t, though many of the tracks were recycled onto their increasingly-desperate records as the decade drew to a close. To say they’re a mixed bag would be something of an understatement. ‘Child of Winter’ is good fun, if shockingly derivative, ‘Winter Symphony’ is a understated gem, and ‘’Melekalikimaka’ can’t fail to raise a smile. On the other hand, ‘Santa’s Got An Airplane’ reaches new depths of inanity, and ‘(I Saw Santa) Rocking Round The Christmas Tree’ is bad enough to inspire violent action.

All that aside, it is still a Christmas album, and they follow different rules to the rest of the world. For all it’s weaknesses, Christmas wouldn’t be the same without it.

'Cast of Thousands' by Elbow

‘Cast of Thousands’ is the second album by Elbow, following their debut, ‘Asleep In The Back’. It demonstrates an important step of progression in Elbow’s career. It has more ambition than its predecessor, and it aims firmly for greatness.

It goes some way to achieving it’s aim. ‘Fallen Angel’ is a fantastic blast of noise, ‘Fugitive Motel’ is a trademark Elbow ballad, and many of the other tracks have moments of greatness. The album also sets the Elbow template which would serve them so well later, with ‘The Seldom Seen Kid’: a slow building epic to start the album, and a great big sing-along to finish. ‘Grace Under Pressure’ would go on to be hugely outclassed by ‘One Day Like This’, but as an album closer in it’s own right, it does a good job. Outside the highlights, however, the album suffers slightly. Too many songs drag for slightly too long, and the album as a whole has less variety than their first, or those that would follow. It’s likely that this can be attributed to the fact the album was written more quickly than the first, and released by a band still honing their craft. If this is so, it’s good illustration of the need for bands to be allowed to grow at their own pace. The journey begun with ‘Cast Of Thousands’ has already produced two albums much better than this one, and I would hope there are more to come. For this reason alone, any shortcomings on this record can be overlooked: in any case, it’s still, on balance, a good album.

'Casanova' by The Divine Comedy

‘Casanova’ was Neil Hannon’s breakthrough album. For a few short years, the Divine Comedy became a vaguely famous band, and though ‘Fin de Siecle’ and ‘A Secret History’ maintained the momentum, ‘Casanova’ is responsible.

It’s also a remarkably confident album. Despite having two very low selling albums behind him at that point, Hannon sings like a star from the word go. ‘Something For The Weekend’, the song that would be his first hit single, is bold, overstated, slightly daft, and still rather wonderful a decade and a half later. Starting the album with this track, and then ‘Becoming More Like Alfie’ contrasts with his earlier albums which tended to build up a little more slowly. ‘Middle Class Heroes’ slows things down a little, but builds up the layers of orchestration wonderfully. ‘In and Out of Paris and London’ and ‘Charge’ are both wildly overblown chucks of innuendo, but tremendous fun, with ‘Charge’ in particular showing Hannon’s remarkable vocal range stretched to its limit. ‘Songs of Love’ is a perfectly placed moment of calm before the well formed stories of ‘The Frog Princess’ and ‘Woman of the World’.

‘Through A Long And Sleepless Night’ is both the climax of the album and it’s dark heart. It’s an intense rambling epic of a track, and another opportunity for Hannon to show what he can do with a bigger budget. ‘Theme From Casanova’ is slightly throwaway, but it provides a useful buffer between the previous track and ‘The Dogs and the Horses’ which plays out like the final song of a musical that hasn’t been written.

You could hate this album, easily. If you did, you’d criticise it for being excessive, overblown, pretentious, even absurd, and to be honest, it is all of those things. It’s also wonderful, and a fine example of why Neil Hannon is a talent to be treasured.

'Carry On Up The Charts' by The Beautiful South

As a rule, I tend to avoid buying greatest hits compilations, as I’d rather collect the albums which the songs come from in the first place, especially now, when bands release greatest hits collections after only a handful of proper records. This collection from the Beautiful South came into my collection through marriage, and was virtually unnoticed for a long while. It’s not that I’d ever disliked the band, but I’d never really taken any time to appreciate them beyond a vague recognition that Paul Heaton was a good songwriter. Then, a few years ago, I saw them live at the V Festival during a gap in the schedule, and they were fantastic. However, even after this, I didn’t delve properly into this album, not til now, and I’m pleased to listen to it at this point.

The surprise, I suppose, is what’s missing. ‘Blue Is The Colour’ and ‘Quench’, the two massive selling Beautiful South albums came after this compilation, so lots of the songs that are most associated with the band aren’t here. You do, however, get ‘Song For Whoever’, ‘A Little Time’, ‘You Keep It All In’ and ‘Old Red Eyes Is Back’ among its fifteen tracks, most of which are familiar on some level, and all of which are good. The blend of fairly gentle arrangements and delicate lyrics with a heavy streak of cynicism give the songs quite a timeless quality – they’d stand out a bit today, but they would have stood out a bit in the early 90s when they were released as well, which is no bad thing. My initial vague appreciation of Paul Heaton’s songwriting is fully confirmed (with apologies to Dave Rotherway, the co-writer I knew nothing about). In fact, I’ve been listening to this for a few days now, and enjoying it immensely.

'Carnival of Clowns' by Phil and John

Phil and John were a reasonably well regarded Christian duo who released a series of albums towards the end of the eighties and through the beginning of the nineties. They make two appearances in my collection with their album ‘Providence’, and this one, though to be honest, I couldn’t have remembered a single one of their songs before listening to this again over the last few days.

They were often described as a sort of Christian Simon and Garfunkel, and though it’s a fairly lazy comparison, it’s hard to avoid. This album swings between gentle acoustic songs and more upbeat folk-tinged pop-rock. All in all, it’s a good listen – I’ve enjoyed it more than I expected to. One or two tracks are forgettable, but there’s a good collection of vocal harmonies on display, and the tone is varied enough to keep you interested. Some of the arrangements and production choices are showing their age, but this is an album almost twenty years old, so it’s of its time – a few too many bland backing vocals are the worst feature. Having said that, there’s a pleasant lack of pretension here, and a sense that the two artists are creating an album they’re very comfortable with. I can’t imagine listening to it a great deal in the normal course of things, but it may well come out for a spin every now and again.

‘Carl & The Passions – So Tough’ by The Beach Boys

Beach Boys albums tend to be a bit of a mixed bag. With the exception of an obvious select few, each album tends to contain some great stuff, some mediocre stuff, and some rubbish – sometimes all within the same track. ‘Carl & The Passions’ is no different, but it’s a fascinating album.

Following the meltdown of Brian Wilson, the band was forced to adapt to survive. The post Pet Sounds years saw a variety of line up alterations and stylistics adaptations. By the time of this album, nominal control of the band had fallen to Carl, the youngest of the Wilson brothers. As you might expect, therefore, this album is somewhat dominated by him as both a producer and, to a lesser extent, a vocalist. In actual fact, he only takes full lead vocal duties for two of the eight songs, but they’re an important two: the opening track ‘You Need A Mess of Help To Stand Alone’ and ‘Marcella’, the central track, and widely regarded highlight of the album. These two tracks also represent the main writing contributions from Brian, proving that even in his wrecked state, he still had some talent.

Carl’s other major contribution to the album, and the band at the time, was the recruitment of two new members to cover Dennis Wilson’s drumming duties whilst he recovered from injury, and generally beef up the band. Happily, this also helped to cover for Bruce Johnston who left early in the recordings (though he would return a few albums later). Blondie Chaplin and Ricky Fataar are a re-invigorating presence in the band both as musicians and songwriters. Allowing them to write, produce and sing two songs virtually independently could be seen as either brave or desperate, depending on how charitable you might be feeling. Either way, it was an interesting move. Their two songs, ‘Hold On Dear Brother’ and ‘Here She Comes’ are excellent – really very good indeed – but they sound and feel very removed from the rest of the album. Almost as incongruous are the contributions from Dennis. ‘Make It Good’ and ‘Cuddle Up’ showcase his fragile if evocative voice over a bed of strings and piano, and display the fact that his own talent’s were developing well, if in a different direction to the band as a whole. The remaining two tracks, ‘He Come Down’ and ‘All This Is That’ are the token efforts from Mike Love and Al Jardine who wrote them together with input from Brian and Carl respectively. The first achieves a reasonably successful faux-gospel sound, though it’s lyrics – another feeble attempt to spread the joys of Transcendental Meditation – are somewhat grating. ‘All This Is That’ is better, thanks to its more subtle approach, and a rather lovely vocal blend.

Listened to in one approach, it’s hard to fathom any kind of direction from this album. The different members of the band all appear to be aiming for completely different styles and goals which makes this album function a little like ‘The White Album’ (although less ambitious and frankly, less good). However, there is a lot to enjoy here as long as you’re not expecting any kind of consistency, and the band, with the same line up, would achieve something a little more harmonious with their next album. Worth a listen.

'Calling All Nations' by Noel Richards

What a contrast.

Imagine this. You're a well known worship leader with a heart to see stadiums used as worship venues. Your recent albums have been specifically tailored to provide music for such events, and over the last few years, you've relentlessly toured the country filling church halls and small venues building momentum for your plan. Then, after much planning and hard work, you fill Wembley Stadium. Then what?

If you're Noel Richards, you make a plan to hold a similar event in Berlin. Then, you get to work on your next album. But what it should it be like? You've done two albums of rousing stadium-style songs, so do you do another, or do you aim for something slightly more mature? The mature option is a sensible one, as there's a new wave of younger worship leaders snapping at your heels. So, a couple of years on, 'Calling All Nations' is released.

I'm not massively sure how the album came into my collection, but I'd not listened to it for a long time, a very long time. It's not great. It bobs along very tastefully, but there's nothing of any real excitement, and nothing that hadn't been done already, or wasn't being done better by someone else. I'd love to say there was some kind of saving grace - a really good song tucked away at the end, or a great arrangement, but... there's nothing. Even a guest vocal from Matt Redman sounds like it's being phoned in. By the end of the album, I was checking each track to see it it was the last one - never a good sign. It's a shame, because Richards was clearly passionate about what he was doing, and working with all the best intentions. You just can't really hear it.

'Californication' by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers

Maybe I'm remembering wrong, but I'm pretty sure that before the release of this album, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers were something of a spent force. Looking back at the statistics, the singles from the album didn't do ever so well, but this album sold a ridiculous number of copies, and was very well regarded. I'm pretty sure this was one of Tessa's from a long way back, and it's been a long time since I listened to it.

Eleven years on, it still sounds pretty good. Some of it is even excellent. 'Scar Tissue', 'Otherside' and the title track still sound fresh, and buried away in the world of the album track, 'Parallel Universe' is particularly good. After many years as walking cartoon characters, the band step up their musical game. Despite everything, Flea is an excellent bassist, but the album is strongest where he and John Frusciante guitar parts gel together.

There are still some points where the album drags. It's fifteen track long, which is two or three more than it needs to be, and Kleidis' lyrics are occasionally guilty of lapsing into old and tasteless habits, but the good points make the lesser points forgiveable.

'Bustin' + Dronin' by Blur

To co-incide with their album, 'Blur', and their creative rebirth, Blur handed out tracks to a variety of producers and asked for remixes. 'Bustin' + Dronin' is a collection of these remixes. It was created mainly for the Japanese market, but had a limited UK release, and in all honesty, that's all it deserved.

The idea behind the record was a good one, and individually, all of these remixes have their merits. Sadly, despite the range of people involved, the collection feels a bit samey - each track has been made slightly darker, slightly heavier, and slightly more morose. You never get the sense that any of the producers involved had had much fun. The Walter Wall Mix of 'On Your Own' deserves to be singled out - it's like three mixes in one, and it's fifteen minutes long, which is inexcusable.

The second disc is a live performance from John Peel's house of tracks from 'Blur', with an added rendition of 'Popscene'. This is better, showing the band at their most aggressive, but even this disc is a bit one-note - while the parent album is varied in its texture, the same can't be said of this. All in all, this is a reasonably good collection, but an ultimately unnecessary one.

‘Burlesque’ by Bellowhead

I’ve never really taken to folk music, and I’ve always felt vaguely guilty about it for several reasons. Firstly, writing off an entire genre always feels a bit wrong, especially one which covers as much time and space as folk does – every genre surely contains some great stuff, and folk can’t be exempt. Secondly, I realise that a lot of music I like very much has some folk in its inspiration, even if that folk is several steps removed. Never-the-less, when listening to most folk music, I tend to find it hard to ward off the inevitable boredom that ensues.

Bellowhead, however, are a different prospect. My first exposure to the band was through ‘Later… with Jools Holland’ (thank you, BBC), when I’d tuned in for someone else entirely – Thom Yorke, I think, who could hardly have been more different. Far from boring, Bellowhead’s performance was a riotous cacophony of noise as traditional folk music wrestled with a brass section in what seemed a barely controllable balancing act.

Having both greatly entertained and impressed, I tracked down this, their first (and at the time, only) proper album. Happily, Bellowhead on record are almost as much fun as Bellowhead live. Occasionally, when the band are at their most traditional, the magic slips a little, but the high points are both numerous and varied – from the chaotic whirling of ‘The Jigs of Time’ to the stomp of ‘London Town’ to the gentle beauty of ‘Courting Too Slow’ and ‘Across The Line’.

As a band, Bellowhead are something of a side project from a number of well respected folk musicians. The Bellowhead project is a chance to revive some traditional folk favourites and to give them an edge. It could be argued, therefore, that the whole thing is something of a novelty vanity act. This may very well be true, but it doesn’t diminish this album’s brilliance.