Back catalogue: Funk Soul & Jazz

Review: Last October, acclaimed saxophonist Pharoah Sanders turned 80 years young, and his input on this album is testimony to the fact he has clearly aged like a fine wine. Not that this is to suggest preceding outings were anything less worthy than this collaborative project, which sees Sam Shepherd, the British electronic artist better known to most as Floating Points, write nine spectacular arrangements which are then performed by said brass legend, alongside The London Symphony Orchestra.

The results are spectacular, and wildly far-reaching, albeit firmly rooted in jazz with classical undertones. From the movements that made this final cut, some are whisper quiet and delicate to the point of risking breaking off if you were handling haphazardly. Others are booming loud, musical jumbo jets landing at the end of another great crescendo. Whether hushed or monumental, though, we can feel every note and bar of this masterpiece.

Review: As a follow-up to 2020's acclaimed Felis Catus & Silence, Leo Takami returns to Unseen Worlds with a new album of finely sculpted, airy compositions. Takami's sound often orbits his delicate, jazzy guitar playing, but there's a sumptuous palette of instrumentation which ebbs and flows around it. As well as jazz, there's a strong sense of Japanese environmental music in the over-arching serenity of Next Door. Using the beauty of everyday life experience as inspiration for his meandering instrumental narratives, Takami's latest work is a soundtrack to make even the gloomiest day brighter.

Review: Mille Plateaux and Raster hero Andreas Tilliander meets Fire! Orchestra's Goran Kajfes somewhere deep - and we mean DEEP - in the jazz cosmos. The farthest reaches of a universe far, far away, but one that still seems to understand how joyful vast can sound when pierced by the haunting yet strangely alluring sound of brass. But simply defining this as jazz misses a point, then throws us well beyond the pale. In Cmin would be nothing without the electronic tricks and gadgetry that first made us feel as though we'd space-walked off the edge of the known galaxy, out past the Milky Way's stardust. Echoes, tape delays, things that add mood and timbre without necessarily shouting their presence. There's magic at work here. And, contrary to the 21st Century's obsession with under-the-hood, not knowing the how is the reason why you want this.

Review: Japanese duo Torso's latest on their Ozato label offers an immersive blend of cello, flute and tape that defies expectations of contemporary classical music. Featuring bowed strings, shimmering flute and rich reed instruments, the duo's compositions draw from indie-pop structures and 1980s cafe music to concoct stripped-back yet lush sounds that recall Arthur Russell and Penguin Cafe Orchestra. Torso subverts musical hierarchies with addictive, breathtaking results here and though this is refined, accomplished and innovative material, it is also free from pretension.