When Fran Healy sings "Why did we wait so long" on "Mother," the opening song on Travis' seventh album, he could be addressing his band, which spent nearly five years between 2008's Ode to J. Smith and its 2013 follow-up, Where You Stand. The extra time off has done the band some good. Toward the end of the 2000s, Travis started to sag under their own weight, as the group slowly grew more ponderous, and while it certainly can't be said that Where You Stand is effervescent, it is more nimble than either Ode or The Boy with No Name, and it boasts a greater variety of tempos and textures, as well.

Michael Chapman is often cited as one of the unsung heroes of the British folk music community, but that tends to shortchange the eclecticism of his approach. While the melodic sense of British folk plays a large part in Chapman's music, one can also hear much of the "American Primitive" sound pioneered by John Fahey, and like Fahey in his later years, Chapman has a strong taste for experimental sounds, and all of these elements make themselves heard on The Polar Bear, the third in a series of free-form releases Chapman has recorded for Blast First Petite.

Not the American Avengers punk group from the San Francisco scene of the late 70s - nor the UK television duo of Emma Peel and John Steed – but a totally great late 60s group from New Zealand, and one who've got a beautifully baroque sense of psych to their sound! The group have maybe the same lofty approach that the Bee Gees were using on their own sublime late 60s records, but the sound here is a bit more stripped down, gritty, and garagey - with the higher elements coming both from the way the group harmonizes, and creatively uses conventional small group instrumentation - with these deft turns of instrumental phrase that illuminate the darker corners of the songs in a really great way. The package brings together a host of rare singles, mostly recorded in New Zealand by the Parlophone label - and also even includes some very cool radio spots too!

Janis Joplin's second masterpiece (after Cheap Thrills), Pearl was designed as a showcase for her powerhouse vocals, stripping down the arrangements that had often previously cluttered her music or threatened to drown her out. Thanks also to a more consistent set of songs, the results are magnificent – given room to breathe, Joplin's trademark rasp conveys an aching, desperate passion on funked-up, bluesy rockers, ballads both dramatic and tender, and her signature song, the posthumous number one hit "Me and Bobby McGee." The unfinished "Buried Alive in the Blues" features no Joplin vocals – she was scheduled to record them on the day after she was found dead. Its incompleteness mirrors Joplin's career; Pearl's power leaves the listener to wonder what else Joplin could have accomplished, but few artists could ask for a better final statement.

With a dozen ferocious and acclaimed albums since 1996's Daemon Qui Fecit Terra, Hate's fortunate thirteenth album, Bellum Regiis, finds the relentless Polish quartet forging a bolder and more aggressive style than ever. The nine songs on Bellum Regiis see vocalist/guitarist ATF Sinner, guitarist Domin, drummer Nar-Sil and bassist Tiermes hone a modern sound full of eerie atmosphere and depth. Produced by David Castillo (Candlemass, Carcass, Dark Tranquility, Katatonia) at Stockholm's Grondahl Studio, Bellum Regiis is lyrically a more "human and personal" album than Rugia. The songs of Bellum Regiis, explains founder Sinner, are a contemporary sonic and visual exploration of "a struggle for power and everything that goes with it"…

Digitally re-mastered reissue of this album from the British Blues icon. The title makes a virtue of necessity, as John Mayall introduces another new line-up Two guitarists, High Tide Harris and Randy Resnick, lead the band in more of an up-tempo R&B style than has been used in much of Mayall's music during the past several years, starting with the timely 'Gasoline Blues' (1974 was the year of the gas lines, remember?) and going on to 'Troubled Times' (which advises impeaching President Nixon). for the first time on CD this sought after John Mayall album is available, endorsed a by John himself, and he has contributed a new interview for the notes.

Anekdoten's first brace of albums all largely chase the same broad style of heavy prog influenced strongly by mid- 1970s King Crimson, and an audience thirsty for new prog lapped them up eagerly. A Time of Day finds the band sidestepping into a quieter style, with psychedelic influences suggesting that they had been listening to a good deal of 1960s proto- progressive works in the intervening years since Gravity, establishing a new sound for themselves which they would successfully polish further on the following Until All the Ghost Are Gone.

The only studio meeting between Stan Getz and Bill Evans took place over two days in 1964, with the aggressive drummer Elvin Jones and either Richard Davis or Ron Carter on bass. It is peculiar that Verve shelved the results for over a decade before issuing any of the music, though it may have been felt that Getz and Evans hadn't had enough time to achieve the desired chemistry, though there are memorable moments. The punchy take of "My Heart Stood Still," the elegant interpretation of "Grandfather's Waltz," and the lush setting of the show tune "Melinda" all came from the first day's session, with Davis on bass. (Evidently he was unavailable the following day, so Carter replaced him.) Evans' driving, challenging "Funkallero" is the obvious highlight from day two, though the gorgeous "But Beautiful" and the breezy setting of "Night and Day" are also enjoyable…

While there's nothing wrong with doing an album of covers, putting such a project together has its risks. For Erasure, the experiment yields mixed results. More often than not, they connect with the material in unexpected ways, and certainly with greater success than one might expect from other electronic groups. This is due largely to the fact that these guys have been around long enough to develop a sensitivity to music as being more than a beat and a hook. Their sense of humor leads them to revise "Video Killed the Radio Star" in a way that's not only highly amusing - it actually suits the message of the song. Plus, Andy Bell remains a very convincing singer, particularly on the softer material, where his choir-boy timbre glistens and shimmers…

A quirky detour of late-'60s British progressive/blues rock, Blodwyn Pig was founded by former Jethro Tull guitarist Mick Abrahams, who left Tull after the This Was album. Abrahams was joined by bassist Andy Pyle, drummer Ron Berg, and Jack Lancaster, who gave the outfit their most distinctive colorings via his saxophone and flute. On their two albums, they explored a jazz/blues/progressive style somewhat in the mold of (unsurprisingly) Jethro Tull, but with a lighter feel. They also bore some similarities to John Mayall's jazzy late-'60s versions of the Bluesbreakers, or perhaps Colosseum, but with more eclectic material. Both of their LPs made the British Top Ten, though the players' instrumental skills were handicapped by thin vocals and erratic (though oft-imaginative) material. The group were effectively finished by Abrahams' departure after 1970's Getting to This. They briefly reunited in the mid-'70s, and Abrahams was part of a different lineup that reformed in the late '80s; they have since issued a couple of albums in the 1990s.