Nino Rota’s reputation outside Italy as, at best, a civilised purveyor of minor theatre music is turning out to be hardly even a half-truth. BIS’s series of his symphonic and chamber works, and Chandos’s of the concertos, reveals a composer of incisive gifts and technical brilliance. Civilised the music certainly is, but often far more than that, its pervasive wit enhancing rather than detracting from the elegant suggestions of deep feeling. The wise and wily ‘neo-classicism’ of the Third Symphony sets out like an exercise in updated Mozart, but though Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony is brought to mind it soon becomes evident that a strain of acid melancholy undercuts the dapper phraseology. The model here, if there is one, seems more likely to be late Busoni, with disturbing cross-currents just beneath the surface. The Concerto festivo, more obviously a display piece, takes Italian opera genres (aria, cabaletta, etc) and reinterprets them in fairly irreverent orchestral terms, while the ballet music that Rota produced for the tercentenary of the death of Molière – almost his last work –insouciantly mixes Baroque, modern and popular styles, just as it mixes merriment and melancholy, with constant technical brilliance and utter lack of pomposity. The Swedish performers take to the Italianate gaiety as to the manner born. A delightful disc.

Cher returns to the dancefloor for her latest effort, Living Proof, churning out a dozen electronic, beat-heavy tracks about heartbreak, loneliness, and survival. Songs about strength and perseverance are no anomaly coming a woman who has managed to sustain a career that has lasted four decades; and it's no mystery that Cher would be the first to be right there when you fall, telling you to get up on your feet, dust yourself off, and get out on that dancefloor. And get up you will, with this peppy dance album that spouts warm sentiments and reverberating sounds to keep you going all night long. But the power of the album's punch loses its luster each time the auto-tuner kicks in, contorting Cher's deep, sexy voice into some kind of canned electronic robot dialect.

This disc, Volume 3 of the series, contains five sonatas and the work usually known as Andante and Variations in F Minor, here with the early title Un piccolo divertimento. Whatever you call it, it's a highly unusual piece, variations on two themes each so long that they are varied only twice. It's also one of Haydn's most deeply emotional piano works, and contrasts nicely with the quirky two-movement sonatas that make up most of the disc. As before, Jenö Jandó's performances treat each work as an individual and characterize each one convincingly. These are among the best Haydn piano discs in the catalog.

Rachmaninoff’s tone poem The Isle of the Dead was composed in Dresden in 1908 – 09, inspired by the 1880 painting of that name by the Swiss symbolist Arnold Böcklin. The painting depicts a ferryman rowing a coffin towards the Isle of the Dead, and Rachmaninoff, unusually setting the piece in five beats to the bar, captures the atmosphere and the motion of oars in the water in the most extraordinary detail. Dedicated to the outstanding Ukrainian-born coloratura soprano Antonina Vasilyevna Nezhdanova, the ‘Vocalise’ was first performed, by her with the composer, in January 1916. After creating a version with orchestral accompaniment, Rachmaninoff then produced the version heard here, for orchestra alone. Following the Russian revolution and his exile to the USA, the compositional output of Rachmaninoff declined dramatically. In great demand both as a virtuoso performer and as a conductor, he toured extensively, but struggled to incorporate ‘modern music’ into his compositional style. In the mid 1930s he acquired a holiday villa in Lucerne, and surprised the world with his ‘Paganini’ Rhapsody, quickly followed by the Third Symphony. Sinfonia of London and John Wilson demonstrate exceptional ensemble playing throughout, and their glowing string sound suits this repertoire perfectly.

Duran Duran and producer Mark Ronson envisioned the 2011 release All You Need Is Now as a sequel to the band’s 1982 effort Rio, but fans are better off approaching it as the imaginary effort that came after 1983’s Seven and the Ragged Tiger. Follow their analogy, and this should sound like a band that just created a new wave icon, but here there’s an enthusiasm and sense of purpose that can only come from an act less cocksure than one that is on top.

Originally recorded in an Italian villa in 1992, this release covered German solo vocal music ranging over much of the 17th century, most of it with the melancholy tone suggested by the album's title. Its release by Spain's Glossa label in 2009 was likely due to the fact that it includes music that even by then remained unfamiliar. The biggest attraction is the sextet of songs, and songs are what they are, by Adam Krieger, the founder of the Leipzig Collegium Musicum Bach decades later. Some are secular, some sacred, and they sound very little like Schütz, Schein, or the comparable Italian works of the period; they're free in shape, rather light-hearted, and apparently written for the entertainment of aristocratic amateurs.

Maybe you can't hold on to a dream, but dreams can trigger strong emotional cross-currents. And so it was for singer Malia on her popular, long-lived Echoes of Dreams .Released in 2004, the songs on that album form the basis for her new recording, Ripples . It is not a remake in the normal sense; rather, these emotive ebbs and flows are direct links to this British-African artist's highly emotional acknowledgement of her roots. Accompanied by pianist Alexandre Saada's sensitive play and his arrangements for the string trio, Malia has radically stripped down her original work, moving from the playful pop-jazz style of her earlier career towards a raw, blues and soul-drenched sound that, more than ever,relies on the strength and passion of her voice.

Branching away from standards on her second album Way Down Low, Austin-based jazz vocalist Kat Edmonson also expands her musical worldview, going beyond the sophisticated cabaret of her 2009 debut Take to the Sky and creating a breezy neo-tribute to the swinging '60s. That was the decade that produced Brian Wilson's "I Just Wasn't Made for These Times," one of the few covers on Way Down Low and a sentiment that applies to Edmonson but in a different way. Where the Beach Boy was pining for the days before rock & roll, Edmonson would certainly feel more comfortable in either the '60s or '50s, where bossa nova, swing, and pop mingled happily, as they do here.

A classic example of the whole not matching the component parts, Tramp featured several high-profile veterans of the British blues boom including Mick Fleetwood (drums), Bob Brunning (bass), Danny Kirwan (guitar), Dave Kelly (vocals), Jo Ann Kelly (vocals) and Bob Hall (keyboards). Hall, like Brunning, had earlier been co-leader of the Brunning-Hall Sunflower Blues Band. Tramp made their debut for Music Man Records in 1969 with a self-titled collection which lacked direction or convincing songwriting. Far better were the group’s singles, ‘Each Day’ (1969) and ‘Vietnam Rose’ (1970). A further album was issued in 1974, by which time the group featured an expanded line-up with Dave Brooks (saxophone) and Ian Morton (percussion) joining the original sextet.

The Quatuor Van Kuijk celebrates the tenth anniversary of its creation and its sixth recording for Alpha with a complete set of Mendelssohn’s quartets, of which this is the first volume: it opens with the Quartet op.13, composed in 1827, when he was only eighteen years old. ‘A trial run? No, a masterstroke! In every movement of this first quartet, we are constantly aware that the sense of urgency is the blood that runs through its veins. Never before have we heard such tension maintained over an entire quartet’, writes Stéphane Goldet in the album’s booklet notes.