This late 1969-70 British group (recording at Abbey Road for EMI's progressive Harvest label) manages to sound authentically American on this collection of 1920's & 1930's blues, folk & jug band songs (though an actual jug is played on only a few tunes). They are traditional tunes. When this album failed commercially, two members exited, and the reconstituted group shortened their name to "Panama Limited", started making limited use of electric instruments and started writing original songs influenced by Captain Beefheart.

Organist Barbara Dennerlein performs nine of her originals on this enjoyable set. The music ranges from funky jams to more complex hard bop, with most songs being a bit quirky and full of subtle surprises. Dennerlein has long had her own sound (a major achievement on organ) and she is also heard on piano during two numbers, which is a rarity for her. Her sidemen on this set include such adventurous musicians as trumpeter Randy Brecker, David Murray or David Sanchez on reeds, and trombonist Frank Lacy, and every player gets a chance to be heard.

Paul Ellis is one of the two brains behind Dweller at the Threshold. It’s immediately clear that this is a professional musician who knows what he’s doing from the way the fragments are glued together, smoothly leaving no trace. The sounds he uses are perfect for the atmosphere he has in mind - and there are a lot of atmospheres on this album. The title is divided into three parts, all clocking in at around 15 minutes. The way the three parts float together is very listener-friendly; no fear for disturbance of a break in the special atmosphere Ellis has left you in. Whatever you want, it’s here; heavenly choirs, broad outstretched symphonic planes, cosmic fascination and killer sequencers. At times Jarre-esque, but with more effects, at others surging Dweller-patterns full of wondrous complexity…

Harmonica ace Charlie Musselwhite falls between the more obvious generations of blues players, younger than its elder statesmen but considerably senior to young hot-shots like Jonny Lang and Kenny Wayne Shepherd. How, then, can he find a fresh hook to his music without resorting to attention-grabbing gimmicks? Except for two songs featuring producer/guitarist Cesar Rosas of Los Lobos, Charlie Musselwhite's 1997 album, Rough News, doesn't have any famous guests, but it stands out from the harmonica whiz's long and deep discography nonetheless. Musselwhite has pared down his sound so radically that every instrument has become a rhythm instrument. When these lean, groove-based arrangements are applied to tunes as simple and catchy as "Both Sides of Fence," "I Sat & Cried" and "Natural Born Lover," the results jump at the listener with the bare-basics excitement of early rock & roll.

By now, anyone who has heard one of Mark Lanegan's solo albums knows exactly what the others will sound like – Lanegan's weathered, smoky voice intones tales of quiet desperation over echoing electric guitar arpeggios, folky acoustic guitar work, and the occasional piano, organ, or violin embellishment. This approach has resulted in a compelling body of work, often possessed of remarkable depth, but it's also become something of a stylistic straitjacket over the course of several albums. And that's the only major knock against the otherwise brilliant I'll Take Care of You, Lanegan's fourth solo album, which marks the first time it hasn't taken him four years to deliver a follow-up. Perhaps that's because there's no original material here – I'll Take Care of You applies the drifting, elegiac qualities of its predecessors to a selection of well-chosen, mostly underexposed folk, country, and blues covers. It's a testament to Lanegan's interpretive skill that he's able to use his already well-established style so effectively yet again, as most of these versions range from stunning to merely excellent.

If only for his melodic genius, Handel would have been forever acknowledged as one of history's greatest composers. These delightful sonatas for recorder provide abundant evidence to support that claim, and Marion Verbruggen's warm, resonant recorder and brilliant flute prove the perfect partners for bringing these rarely heard pieces to life.