Uncut

Crotchety improv from Chicago's avant-roots collective

Metal box package for blues veterans' attempt to revive their illustrious past

Beats'n'ballads nu-folk fusion

Quiet acoustic guitar in nocturnal mood

East Coast angst-rockers still frowning on fourth album

Stunning second album from rising Portuguese star

Lisa Gerrard, spiritually intense wailer and ex-Dead Can Dance member is, we'll wager, no close relation to Steven Gerrard, the Liverpool midfielder. But you never know. She's gone all Maori on us here for a New Zealand indie film, and aren't they the fellas who do those scary war-dance routines before playing thug-ball, or rugby, or whatever it's called? Lisa, after working on Gladiator, Ali and others, is now a big Hollywood soundtracks player, which is comically absurd but blissfully reassuring.

More wonder and thunder from down under. Mick Harvey's extensive track record (Bad Seeds, PJ Harvey, Crime & The City Solution) more than qualifies him to score a coming-of-age issue movie set in "a small coastal town in Australia". Interestingly, the debuting director, Paul Goldman, shot the videos for Boys Next Door's "Shiver" and The Birthday Party's "Nick The Stripper", so he and Harvey have been communing aesthetically for a while. Harvey's been getting award nominations already for this, and it seems there's little he can't turn his hand to these days.

Way before Emmylou Harris or even Patsy Cline, women were singing country songs to make your heart crack. Among these 25 examples from pre-WW2, only the Carter Family and Patsy Montana will be familiar to most. But just as thrilling are the Coon Creek Girls, a kind of 1930s version of the Be Good Tanyas, and Gertrude Gossett, who sounds like an early Gillian Welch. Every track is a discovery, and you wonder how the Louisiana Lou, The Girls Of The Golden West and Moonshine Kate ever lapsed into obscurity. Sleevenotes are courtesy of The Handsome Family's Rennie Sparks.

The Pastels always seem to find their wheelbarrow positively overflowing with acclaim, though some of us have struggled for over a decade to remember what they actually sound like. Here they wibble along, inoffensively enough, through a 25-minute accompaniment to the recent Brit road movie directed by David Mackenzie. It climaxes, if that's not too bold a word (it is), with a Jarvis Cocker collaboration, "I Picked A Flower", a parody of a pop hit which demonstrates that Cocker used up all his parody power a while ago.