Great-fun, expertly-assembled, well-presented collection of ye-ye girl pop, featuring Francoise Hardy (of course) alongside BB, Anna Karina (from the Godard films) and co.

Superb female vocal soul trio from Alabama, recorded by Sounds Of Memphis — southern flavoured ballads, dancers, pop, sister funk.

Sparkling, limber post-bop from 1964 — with touches of modal, bossa, and Eastern Sounds — impeccably reissued in Japan.

Ace, vibesing, early seventies new-jazz album by this New Orleans drummer by way of the NYC loft scene, and musical cohorts there like Leon Thomas, Lonnie Liston Smith and Strata East.

Peck Morrison, Horace Parlan, Charlie Rouse, Curtis Fuller and Clark Terry. 1961.

Sweet Stalag business.

Trump-card trumpet version of Joyride, aka Riding West.

In the view of Robert Crumb (who did the lettering for the cover). Tenor, baritone, electronics, music box. Great repertoire — Ellington, Ayler, Lars Gullin’s fabulous Danny’s Dream — done charged, lyrical justice.

‘Alone at night. Large church room. Lots of air. Stone. Wood. Glass. Quietness. Stillness. The dead and the alive. Surroundedness.
‘Existentialistic matters spinning. Peaceful state of mind. The dialectic equilibrium of complete stillness and deeper thoughts on contra-resistance on local and global levels. Fighting (y)our stupidities. Contra.
‘I have never ever before gotten myself into such an unusual setting for a recording project. And yet, so simple. So naked. So peaceful. Alone at night. As we all are.
‘I borrowed the keys to the beautiful church of Gustafsberg, from my neighbor Rune.
‘I went there at midnight. Set up my recording gear. Old school DAT machine, tube pre-amps and two AKG 414s in an extreme stereo set-up, close to the horn. The horn of choice. The contrabass sax. The monstrous sax-machine “Tubax” made by the German engineer Benedikt Eppelsheim at the turn of the century. I sat down in the first row of benches. Breathing. Preparing. Contemplating. The saxophone positioned in the very middle of the church, close to the altar. More than 6 hours straight of low-end sax noise and many breaks later:  the sun set. At around 7 am… I was done. I was alone the whole night. And yet, not all alone. Some things were going on in that church. In that room. I kid you not. Never audible. But strongly felt. Whatever presence of the old or new gods - old and new dreams - it effected the music and my mind. I let it happen. I let it all flow.
‘Alone at night. There is nothing to explain.’

Pure worries from the Harnessed The Storm album, plus three tracks missing from the vinyl version, including the deadly Aquatic Cataclysm.