Naggingly arresting indie intricacy

Debut from London-based trio offers a refreshingly catholic take on alt.country/garage blues

Celebratory indie-folk spirituals from the Canadian Belle & Sebastian

The Beeb are hoping for a kind of Our Friends In The North success with this 1963-79-spanning Soho crime drama. Its author, Jake Arnott, has written sleevenotes for this 44-song double album, which moves from buoyant '60s hits from James Brown and Dusty to '70s landmarks by T. Rex and The Jam. R Dean Taylor's "There's A Ghost In My House" is exhilarating, Rod Stewart's "Reason To Believe" is moving, and Bowie's "London Boys" is seedily weird.

While many of St Etienne's 'concepts' have left me cold, this one resonates, perhaps because I've just read the enchanting coffee-table tome Classic Cafes by Adrian Maddox and Phil Nicholls. Bob Stanley's sleevenotes similarly eulogise the faded majesty and allure of "caffs"—"'It's for lorry drivers,' said my mum." As these temples to a bygone age disappear, they exude the melancholy of half-recalled Donovan songs. In homage to these hallowed halls of grease are kitsch gems from The Kinks, Chairmen Of The Board, The Moments and The Sapphires.

What's not to love about a score that fills nearly half its running time with diverse versions of Rodgers and Hart's "My Funny Valentine"? Elvis Costello, Chet Baker (sublime), The Kronos Quartet and pianist Marvin Laird all saunter down its plush chandeliered corridors, its tree-lined boulevards, its narcoleptic nooks and crannies. No less a figure than Van Dyke Parks fills up the residual squares and piazzas, and there's even a waft of Julee Cruise (and a shiver of Saint-Saens and Bach) to gratify those desiring even loftier highs.

Cole Porter's lyrical and melodic genius is likely to endure as one of the last century's immortal contributions to culture. Lennon/McCartney, Holland/Dozier/Holland and possibly Bacharach/David may last as long; others currently revered will be forgotten in 50 years. So it's dandy that they're making a biopic about him, and fine that "an extraordinary range of contemporary artists" are performing his music for it. Trouble is, these artists are neither extraordinary nor a range. Consider what could have been risked here.

Norwegian prodigy's vivid second album

Magnus is a collaboration between Tom Barman of superior Belgian noirists dEUS and heavyweight techno DJ/producer CJ Bolland. The dance/rock hybrid is usually an ugly beast, but The Body... represents a meeting of minds rather than a dilution of disparate talents. Live drums augment programmed beats throughout, while sax, Wurlitzer and sampled film dialogue are added to the mix and members of Belgian bands Evil Superstars and Millionaire guest.

Twelfth album from Canadian champions of alt.country misery