This is not exactly Edward II the musical. There’s no singing, but music plays a leading role. It is the food of love of the sort that dared not speak its name – and there is excess of it for my taste. The idiom is jazz of the edgy sort fashionable in Paris in the 1950s, reflecting pretty boy Piers Gaveston’s exile there, where he has been banished by Edward I for getting too close to his wayward son.

Between 1996 and the earliest years of the 21st century, the Manchester-based duo Lamb defined a moody, ambient, dance-influenced pop – the trip-hop/chill-out nexus. "Górecki", their 1997 chart single, will always be their most well-known moment. Lamb played what was announced back then as their final live show in 2004. But Andy Barlow and Lou Rhodes reunited for a slew of festival dates in 2009. Both had been working solo, and 5 is the first recorded evidence of their second life.

It was partly as penance for having missed the previous evening's Czech festival that I arena-prommed for last night's Moravian finale, to be happily strafed by the nine extra trumpets of Janáček's Sinfonietta.

The Hallé Orchestra, enlarged for the occasion with harps, anvils, horns and such, was in its place on the platform. Sir Mark Elder made his entrance like a surgeon about to embark on a complex and energy-draining heart bypass operation. And the lights went out. On purpose. A spotlight picked up a man in a white shirt with long hair mounting the platform and making his way to a small table, chair and reading lamp mid-stage. It was Richard Wagner – in the form of actor Roger Allam. Pure melodrama.

The creative seed, once planted, can take a long time to germinate and come into bloom – in this case 37 years. For Victoria Wood, 1974 was a seminal year – she turned 21, she won New Faces and she saw a Thames TV documentary about the Manchester Children’s Choir who famously sang Purcell’s "Nymphs and Shepherds" with the Halle under Sir Hamilton Harty in the Free Trade Hall. That recording, featuring 250 children from 50 Manchester schools, was in 1929 and the resulting 78rpm Columbia record became an unexpected hit, selling a million copies.

The Meltdown Festival's tribute to Tony Wilson was a lot like the charismatic post-punk legend himself: funny, eccentric, obscure, populist; all over the place but never dull. Wilson died in August 2007 and this event was a reminder of his reputation as one of music's most fascinating post-punk provocateurs, giving the world Joy Division, Happy Mondays and more. It was also a reminder of his reputation, as poet Mike Garry put it, as a "knobhead". As someone who appeared on regional news programmes quoting Wordsworth while hang-gliding, Wilson could be spectacularly uncool.

Dickens wasn’t wrong – hard times they were. Around 1300 men, women and children worked at the Murrays’ Mills complex in the Ancoats area of Manchester in its mid-19th-century heyday (if you can call it that). Arrive a minute later than 7am and you were locked out, without pay. Now that actors are treading those same worn and oil-stained boards with an imaginative new version of Hard Times, you won’t get in after 7pm (and you’re the one paying, of course).

Under starter’s orders, baton raised, and they’re off! Following on the heels and wheels of the Grand National and the F1 Grand Prix, the grand adventure of Maazel’s Mahler marathon with the Philharmonia is up and running, albeit at a more moderate pace, although the indefatigable octogenarian whips up a fair head of steam when called for. This particular “celebration” of Mahler’s death 100 years ago (come 18  May), will last until October, allowing for a summer break. The Philharmonia tour, like any respectable travelling show, will take in parts of the UK that many other orchestras don’t reach, like Gateshead and Hull, as well as Germany, naturally, and odd other places like Paris and Luxembourg. So they can’t be accused of not sharing the spoils around or sparing themselves.

Under starter’s orders, baton raised, and they’re off! Following on the heels and wheels of the Grand National and the F1 Grand Prix, the grand adventure of Maazel’s Mahler marathon with the Philharmonia is up and running, albeit at a more moderate pace, although the indefatigable octogenarian whips up a fair head of steam when called for. This particular “celebration” of Mahler’s death 100 years ago (come 18  May), will last until October, allowing for a summer break. The Philharmonia tour, like any respectable travelling show, will take in parts of the UK that many other orchestras don’t reach, like Gateshead and Hull, as well as Germany, naturally, and odd other places like Paris and Luxembourg. So they can’t be accused of not sharing the spoils around or sparing themselves.

Of all the unlikely musical pairings in recent times, Jesca Hoop and Guy Garvey deserve special mention. The genial Elbow frontman, all northern charm and indie anthems, is like a favourite bitter. Hoop, on the other hand, former nanny to Tom Waits's children, is more like something Lewis Carroll's Alice might have drunk. Since she moved from California to Manchester, Garvey has been mentoring Hoop, and appeared on her best-known song.