Uncut

Two-disc set celebrating Manchesters baggy-trousered dance-rock primates

Using dodgy reconstructions, minimal footage and recently released FBI files, conspiracy theorist Alex Constantine suggests that Hendrix may have been taken down to Brian Jones' swimming pool and force-fed red wine by Elvis till he croaked. No, not really, but the theories aired in this sensationalist barrel-scraping pile of docu-dross are no less preposterous.

Back in the early 1990s, Seal had edge, dreadlocks and songs. Shot on tour after his debut album had just won him a clutch of Brit awards, he looks armed and dangerous during an explosive set that includes a positively homicidal version of "Hey Joe". What on earth went wrong?

No lip-syncing, backing tracks or gimmicks—only consummate talent on these 'live' late-'50s clips from Canadian TV. Cab Calloway ("Minnie The Moocher") is at his most bizarre, Nat King Cole ("Stay With Love") is finger-poppin' smooth and Sammy Davis Jr ("Gypsy In My Soul/Perdido") is a human dynamo, while the gem in this collection is Duke Ellington working in a quintet setting.

Tori has chosen a surprisingly conventional in-concert format for her first-ever DVD. Recorded in Florida last year, it's an intense performance, the songs drawn mostly from her recent Scarlet's Walk album, augmented by old favourites such as "Cornflake Girl" and "Professional Widow".

Shot at Brixton Academy at the end of Moloko's 2003 tour, this is a limp wander through the band's hits which even Roisin Murphy can't lift. There's none of the inter-band tension that a year on the road might have generated, and they even manage to mangle "Sing It Back". For devotees only.

Sadly not long-lost footage from the '60s but film from a brace of reunion gigs in the mid-'90s by the rediscovered pop-art cult heroes. There's lots of playing the guitar with a violin bow (something the band's Eddie Phillips invented way before Jimmy Page). But the transformation from razor-sharp teenage mods to middle-aged beer bellies is cruel on the eye.

Yes, on tuesday, June 13, 1978, voodoo rockabilly avatars The Cramps (in their greatest line-up, Lux Interior and Poison Ivy backed by Nick Knox and Byron Gregory) rolled into the recreation room of California's Napa State Mental Hospital, to play for the residents. Don't ask how this was ever allowed.

First released in CD form in 1992, Fragments Of A Rainy Season marked a crucial, pivotal point in the life and career of our greatest living Welshman. After years of alcohol and drug addiction had turned his life into a full-blown shambles, Cale swapped whiskey and cocaine for regular games of squash and full-time commitment to parenthood in the early '90s. Far from blunting his creative edge, sobriety and responsibility appeared to free him up to take greater risks in the studio, and brought the kind of focus that enabled him to hone his live act down to something like perfection.

While Matchbox 20 have been a byword for AOR, director Hamish Hamilton's concert film has a sense of scale and occasion that makes Rob Thomas and friends look like a group with something almost thrilling to say. Caught in Atlanta during their 2003 tour, the band build a head of steam banging through hits like "Push", "3 AM" and "Bent".