While Laura Mvula deserves credit for blending her Caribbean heritage with her classical training, Sing to the Moon is far from the masterpiece some claim.

Lady Rizo, real name Amelia Zirin-Brown, describes herself as “a cabaret superstar, chanteuse and comedian. The diva you always wanted to worship, but never found until now”.

Accompanied by strings and backing vocalists, Live at the Royal Albert Hall offers a suitably grandiose showcase for 2012's biggest breakthrough act.

Yoko Ono will curate next year's Meltdown Festival choosing the musicians and artists who will appear at the annual event.

Never believe anything anyone tells you in January. The month of second-guessing and self-fulfilling prophecies, it's the period when the music industry and media send out suspiciously samey lists of Bright New Hopes for the year ahead, almost always as cautious as they are tedious. But just occasionally, like a broken clock, they get it right.

“It’s going to be a whole lotta of fun tonight,” Liz Green sings, in her jazz-coated tones, on the perky 'Midnight Blues'. That’s about as jaunty as the 28-year-old’s music gets. She even warns us, jokily (and Green’s very droll, like a blend of Victoria Wood, Linda Smith and Beautiful South’s Paul Heaton), that “I’m going to try and depress you now,” before the exquisite lament 'Hey Joe', adding “it’s a sad song about my imaginary friend’s less than impressive love life.” 

There are elements of Nina Simone and Joan Armatrading in folk-jazz singer Krystle Warren's voice, and even Dusty at her dustiest, on the five tracks which here serve as a taster for two albums' worth of material intended for release over the next year.

One wonders how big a city has to be, or how small a town, to have a song written about it. By now most US state capitals must have had a song written about them and even the most inconsequential conurbations have been celebrated by alt.country's finest minds.

When he was asked to photograph the great tenor saxophonist Lester Young in New York City in 1958, Herb Snitzer was just a young man with a camera.