The long career of New York electronic duo Suicide finally came to an end upon the death of their vocalist Alan Vega in 2016. They had not, however - and to say the least – been very prolific in decades. Their reputation rests almost entirely on their first two albums, most especially their debut. But what albums those are. Their primitive synthesizer drone-rock’n’roll still casts a giant shadow 40 years on.

Paul Simon is currently traversing the globe on his Farewell Tour. His new album clearly accompanies that. It’s a thoughtful look backwards wherein Simon has plucked numbers from his catalogue he feels deserve another go-round, recording them with guest artists, often from the world of jazz (notably Wynton Marsalis). It is, by its nature, somewhat self-indulgent, for there are none of his most famous songs here. These are numbers he wants to bring out of the shadows; that he reckons are worth further attention. On occasion, he’s absolutely right.

The album opens with "One Man’s Ceiling is Another Man’s Floor", originally a chugging rock’n’roll frolic on 1973’s There Goes Rhymin’ Simon. It has become a faintly Christmassy piano jazz shuffle that recalls Cab Calloway. It’s not unpleasant, not better, just different. The singer is famed for the pithy wit of his songwriting and, at the album’s best, he grabs the listener by the mind and heartstrings. A good case in point is “Darling Lorraine” from 2000’s You’re the One (from which four of this 10-song set are drawn). The poignancy was arguably submerged on the original’s twangy “adult contemporary” arrangement but here, in more pared-back form, the song is affecting.

Elsewhere New York chamber sextet yMusic get involved on "Can’t Run But" and "Rene and Georgette Magritte With Their Dog After the War". The latter is a particularly literary song and the delicate orchestrations forefront the ache at its heart. Something about it recalls Al Stewart.

I suppose your preference regarding these versions and their originals depends on your relationship with Paul Simon. I possess none of his records and his existence generally passes me by. Music journalists should occasionally make such matters clear with artists who have long, storied careers. It tempers the relevance of what they have to say. From where I’m standing, then, In The Blue Light is an album that, in some places, has a delicate beauty, but in others, overeggs the pudding towards sentimentalism.

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There were two immediate casualties at Pierre-Laurent Aimard’s high-energy account of Messiaen’s monumental Des canyons aux étoiles… with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra at the Edinburgh International Festival.

The most famous face in musical history, and perhaps the instigator of modern culture as we know it; he truly was the King. But for a documentary focused on such an icon, The King touches very little on Elvis Presley the man.

There are plenty of reasons to be apprehensive about biopics of poets. The activity of writing is most often, after all, anything but cinematic, unless its moments of creativity are forced, while the “myth” of the poet all too easily becomes stereotypical.

So far Jon Hamm has had trouble finding himself movie roles which fit him quite as impeccably as Mad Men’s Don Draper – though he could do worse than throw his hat in the ring for James Bond – but his role here as an American diplomat in Beirut plays obligingly to his strengths.

“When you were our age, how did you imagine your life? What did you hope for?” It is a video of a classroom south-east of the Périphérique separating Paris from the working-class suburbs. The students are mostly girls between fifteen and sixteen and they wear make-up, jewellery, low-cut tops – we understand they’re sexy, confident, cool. Several are African, North African, Caribbean.

What’s that? Joan Crawford had no sense of humour? Well, take a look at It's A Great Feeling. It’s a pretty bizarre (and pretty bad) 1949 musical with Jack Carson and Dennis Morgan playing themselves running round the Warner Brothers lot attempting to make a picture.

The meanderings and bickerings of an extraordinary mother and daughter as they roam or lounge around a semi-derelict house and overgrown garden on Long Island have become a cult since the 1975 release of Albert and David Maysles' documentary Grey Gardens.

“We have come here tonight,” announces Mavis Staples, “to bring you some joy, happiness, inspiration - and positive vibrations!” It’s a declaration that the irrepressible Mavis, celebrating her 79th birthday today, routinely makes at her concerts - and she never fails to deliver.

Tonight is the second of two sold-out nights at Islington’s beautiful Union Chapel, a much-loved venue that’s perfect for Mavis’ brand of joyous, reverent and powerful music and one she clearly adores. She’s played here a few times, including a special show on her 75th birthday in 2014. “It’s my birthday,” she said happily that night, “and I’m in a beautiful church with my friends.” She’s delighted to be back with her friends again, tickled by the audience’s rendition of “Happy Birthday”, brandishing an England football scarf (“England has already told me that they will be winning,” she claims ahead of the World Cup semi-final) and teasing excitable fans who shout out in their “terrible accents”.

After coming on stage to rapturous applause from a thrilled audience already up on its feet, Mavis kicks things off with the Staple Singers’ “If You’re Ready (Come Go With Me)” – which must be bittersweet for her to sing without Yvonne, her older sister and fellow Staple Singer who frequently toured with her and died in April this year. It’s one of only a handful of Staple Singers’ songs tonight, including “What You Gonna Do” and a scorching “Let’s Do It Again” - the Curtis Mayfield track that the Staples covered, causing churchman Pops to balk at its saucy lyrics. “Oh Pops,” Curtis reassured him, according to Mavis, “the Lord won’t mind!”

The bulk of tonight’s set is instead made up of rich pickings from Mavis’ solo albums, featuring amongst others a sublime version of “Far Celestial Shore” from 2013’s One True Vine, a brisk “We’re Gonna Make It” from 2010’s Jeff Tweedy collaboration You Are Not Alone, and the achingly moving title track of the same album. 

Most heavily mined, naturally, is Mavis’ current record, If All I Was Was Black. Race relations in today’s America, the Black Lives Matter movement and families being ripped apart at the US border are all touched on in powerful tracks including “Little Bit”, “Who Told You That”, “Build a Bridge” and “No Time for Crying” – the latter featuring Mavis’s intent to “march right up to that big house” and tell “that man to sit down”.   

An encore comprising a reprise of “Little Bit” and a rousing rendition of the Staples’ “Touch a Hand, Make a Friend” – with Mavis taking her own advice by shaking the outstretched hands of delighted audience members near the front – brings the show to a close, surprising fans expecting to be sent out dancing to “I’ll Take You There”. But while there might have been a few changes to tradition – there was no sign of the Staples’ version of “The Weight”, either – this was a very special evening in the presence of one of the all-time greats, a tireless performer who shows hardly a sign of slowing down in the pursuit of righteousness, human rights and the bringing of joy, inspiration, happiness and positive vibrations.  

“I tell you, there’s just no stopping me!” laughs Mavis at one point, seemingly surprised at herself. But, as she sings in “No Time for Crying”, “we got work to do.” And Mavis is not going to stop while it’s there to be done.

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Overleaf: Watch Mavis Staples and Jeff Tweedy perform an acoustioc version of "You Are Not Alone"