Some ten years probably separates the composition of the Missa in honorem Beatissimae Virginis Mariae (c. 1768) from the Missa brevis Sancti Joannis de Deo (c 1777–8). Because of the virtuoso role of the organ in each work the former has become known as the ''Great Organ Mass'' and the latter as the ''Little Organ Mass''. 'Great' and 'Little' reflect both the size of the orchestras and the scale of each work. Thus the earlier of the two Masses is on an altogether grander scale than the later one. It is scored for a four-part chorus, four soloists (SATB), strings, cors anglais, horns, bassoon and obbligato organ, and in this performance additional trumpet and trombone parts found in one of the work's sources, are included as well. Doubtfully authentic timpani parts are also present.

When one approaches the music of the eighteenth century that was performed at the Spanish court of the Palacio de la Zarzuela (which in shortened from then gave the whole “zarzuela” genre its name), whether by composers born in Spain or by foreigners who had settled there, the first impression is one of surprise. For here we find ourselves confronted with magnificent music that follows Italianate models, like all works of the period, yet contributes original elements specific to the country that gave it birth: above all the theatrical style, the inclusion of characteristic rhythms, and the richness of the texts, taken from great writers of the time.

The Baroque dream team of Rachel Podger and Kristian Bezuidenhout interpret the astonishing music of C.P.E. Bach’s Violin Sonatas in C Minor, B Minor, D Major and G Minor. The two early sonatas here from the 1730s resemble the older style of his father. Listening to these works, you can imagine J.S. Bach glancing over Emanuel's shoulders while he wrote them as a teenager at home in Leipzig. The later sonatas, written 30 to 50 years later, reveal an emancipated composer whose developed musical language embodies the 'Empfindsamer Stil', the directly emotional and rhetorical style characteristic of northern-german music of the time.

This is one of those few "absolutely perfect" works of art or nature one comes across in one's liftime. It's like Michelangelo's "David" or the best moonrise you've ever seen over a desert mountain. It's shocking, it's so good. It will leave you overwhelmed. I've never heard any other recording of Chopin come anywhere close to being as magic as this. Anyone who can do this kind of sorcery, if only once, should be showered with garlands and their name should be praised for centuries.

A slightly curious compilation (two Russian performances dating from 1962, one English from 1976) but an attractive one, and very good value. I had not heard the Gabrieli's Tchaikovsky before, and liked it a great deal: properly chamber-scale, in colour as well as tone of voice, and nice underlining of the lyricism in even Tchaikovsky's most exuberant pages.

In 1823 Johann Georg Stauffer invented the arpeggione, a freak instrument, a hybrid of 'cello and guitar, with strings tuned in fourths. Schubert invested such attractive melodies in this queer contraption, he must have believed in its future. The melodies that float throughout the "Sonata for Arpeggione", are indeed attractive to say the least. The first point that strikes one in this performance is the clarity that cellist Mischa Maisky maintains.

After three decades of Carmen in opéra comique-style, each one offering its own brand of authenticity, here we are back in the 19th century with the old grand opera version, with the Guiraud recitatives, tacked on after Bizet’s death. This was the way Carmen was usually performed until the 1950s, when producers and scholars started to reconsider the original.

This disc is the reason that recordings exist: to preserve great performances of great music in transparent sound. This April 2003 recording made in Flagey Hall in Brussels of performances by cellist Mischa Maisky and pianist Martha Argerich is certainly among the best performances ever made of this repertoire. Indeed, only the Rostropovich and Shostakovich performances can compare with them and, even there, it is arguable that Maisky and Argerich's are equally convincing.

When Bishop played guitar with Paul Butterfield in the 1960s he fancied himself a countrified hippie named Pig Boy Cranshaw. His sense of humor remains intact decades later, evidenced on a relaxed blues-oriented rock program shot through with a smart sort of bumpkin levity. He never could sing (it was Mickey Thomas on his 1970s smash "Fooled Around and Fell in Love"), but his guitar rides roughshod over those of many a better-known blues artist.

ARCHITECTURE OF THE ABSURD is a Progressive Rock band. The same kind of rock that motivated thousands of avid brains to join a musical movement that enclosed everything. That undefined rock, with no boundaries or limits. That rock that laughed at the world and at itself, a delicious caricature of music. ARCHITECTURE OF THE ABSURD gathers influences from bands like Van Der Graaf Generator, Gentle Giant or King Crimson. It filters them through a Mr. Bungle strainer and performs in an imaginary Cirque Du Soleil. The result can’t be more unpredictable. Nothing is what it seems and nothing looks like nothing.

While subtlety isn't exactly his strong suit – especially live – it's also not what Dave Hole fans expect out of their Australian slide guitar slinger. The word "ferocious" best describes his over-the-fret, over-the-top technique, and what was merely intense on his studio albums gets kicked up a few notches in concert. Like George Thorogood, Hound Dog Taylor, or Rory Gallagher (whose vocal phrasing is also an influence), he's nailed his niche, best described as explosive Elmore James. Hole happily plays to his strengths without pushing the boundaries past where his fans comfortably expect.

Building off a creative surge that started with 2009's Anomaly and the 2011 autobiography No Regrets: A Rock 'N' Roll Memoir, Ace Frehley returns with solo album number eight, a nine-track pick slide of a record that looks to the past, specifically his 1978 solo debut, without feeling mired in sweaty desperation. Of all the members of Kiss, Frehley has always felt the most relatable, and his goofy charm and Bronx-born swagger help to crystallize the unapologetically nostalgia-driven Spaceman into something more than just a ham-fisted cruise down memory lane. There was always an affable blue-collar dude beneath the greasepaint and platformed boot-bolstered persona of Space Ace, and that workmanlike authenticity shines through on standout cuts like "Bronx Boy," "Your Wish Is My Command" (featuring bass from Kiss bandmate Gene Simmons, who also played bass – and nabbed a co-writing credit – on the opener, "Without You I'm Nothing"), and "Rockin' with the Boys," the latter of which was conceived during Kiss' '70s heyday.

A mysterious, and quite possibly unauthorized, CD release of 23 hard-to-find tracks from Nelson's early career. It's actually debatable how "rare" some of these items are; there are seven songs from his 1962 LP Album Seven By Rick, which made the Top 30 and can probably still be found today without breaking a leg. For those who want some more Rick than the greatest-hits collections offer, this does have the three fairly unremarkable tracks he released on Verve in 1957 before hooking up with Imperial, all of which were hits ("Teenagers Romance," "I'm Walking," "You're My One and Only Love"). The Album Seven cuts are respectable rockabilly-pop, and there are "single versions" of the hits "Believe What You Say" and "Be Bop Baby," although the version of "Be Bop Baby" here sounds different (and inferior) to the one you usually hear on oldies stations, and which was released by Rhino as "the single version" back in the 1980s.