The problem with Cale's tunes is they are such easy listening that you might think that is all they are

After alternate English histories and wrestlers' inner monologues, the insanely prolific and prolifically insane Auteur turns to children's fables.

Former Hüsker Dü drummer/songwriter Grant Hart exhibits huge ambition on The Argument, a double-album inspired by William Burroughs' planned sci-fi re-imagining of Milton's Paradise Lost.

The familiar Lynchian tropes are evident throughout this second solo album from the auteur director. What's not here, though, is the craft and the sheer peculiarity that might make The Big Dream more listenable.

Though his life was cut tragically short before he could reap the rewards of his pioneering work, Rainer Ptacek embodied all that was/is best about the Americana movement. Gently dedicated to his chosen instrument – the resophonic steel guitar – he drew from its history without being bound by it.

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Initially released in 2010 as a series of EPs only available at King Creosote live shows, That Might Well Be It, Darling is being given a limited release for Record Store Day. As such, it's more than welcome: it may well be Kenny Anderson's best album.

It's appropriate that Adam Ant should feature his name in the title of this sprawling comeback album, as many of its 16 songs are plainly autobiographical, from the affectionate paeans to Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood, to the digs at psychiatry in “Shrink”.

Buddy Miller is fast becoming a ubiquitous presence on quality Americana and, through work with the likes of Robert Plant and Richard Thompson, quality Albiona, too.

Five blokes, mainly of full build, most with facial hair, including two fiercely hammering away at banjo and mandolin. With such an unfortunate name, this Minnesota-based bluegrass outfit need to be hot not only to distract us from the fact they are called (grit teeth) Trampled By Turtles, but also to obliterates any parallels with Mumford & Sons.

Recorded in old-timey style, with voices and instruments gathered around a single microphone, Hands of Glory is a smaller, more intimate work than Andrew Bird's recent albums, with originals and covers delivered in mild bluegrass harmonies over understated rockabilly grooves.

Now that John Lydon, nee Rotten, is no longer being targeted, feared and beaten in the street as a folk devil, it’s possible to see his constantly oppositional art more clearly.

Eugene McGuinness has never been one to use a ukulele when he could employ a full orchestra, but on The Invitation to the Voyage he badly over-eggs sometimes slight material.