Sultan Khan was a hereditary sarangiya – a sarangi player – and one of the preeminent Hindustani or Northern Indian classical soloists of our age. He played one of the most brutish-looking instruments humanity has ever devised. Yet the voices that he coaxed from this squat, bowed, stringed instrument were divine. The instrument's name derives from two words meaning "100 colours", but Sultan Khan proved that the sarangi hid many more than that. Many hold it to be the instrument able to capture the nuances and tonal range of the human voice the most faithfully. Many – Mickey Hart, the Grateful Dead drummer-turned-Smithsonian Folkwayswallah who recorded him included – hold sarangi to be the greatest melody instrument ever devised. And without question, Khan was one of sarangi's all-time virtuosi.

What's hot on our playlist

Just when the world is no longer particularly bothered about a new Arctic Monkeys record, they've finally released one worth being bothered about – at least in parts.

Obviously, any rock legend hopes he'll die before he gets old, but there's always the possibility that taking all those substances will have a pickling effect. So post rehab and the comeback album, what's the coolest thing the veteran legend can do? The answer, surprisingly, seems to be radio. Bob Dylan, whose 70th birthday is being celebrated in style on BBC radio next week, delighted his fans by turning DJ for Theme Time Radio Hour. Others from Alice Cooper all the way to Barry Manilow have followed suit. Forget the old accessories of the pop star life, the yachts, the jets, the African orphans. For the music legend, a show of your own is the ultimate must-have and Ronnie Wood has it in spades.

Like Arve Henriksen, Seattle-based trumpeter Cuong Vu (he came to the US from Vietnam as a child) combines acoustic and electronic soundscapes in a manner that looks to the jazz future rather than the past.

Alessandro Striggio's 1566 mass, performed by 40 choristers, sees voices, strings and brass meld into a jaw-dropping harmony.

Rather like Ant and Dec, it's quite hard to tell the Hairy Bikers apart. This doesn't seem to matter. They move as one, enthuse as one, chomp and swallow and gurn as one. The only time they distinguish themselves is when arguing. Pretend arguing, that is. "It's tree-cal," hiccuped one (Si?), holding up a can of Lyle's Golden. "It's sirup, man," boomed the other (Dave?).

Rare and largely previously unseen photographs of Bob Marley at the height of his career have been published in a new book which hits shops next week.

These diaries confirm Palin's TV image as intelligent and self-deprecatory, but can he be so modest if he's willing to publish diaries from 30 years ago? His entries from this distant era tend to bland geniality with spots of interest.