After the bleakness in the parts of Skeleton Tree touched directly by his son Arthur’s death, and the desolate grief of the accompanying documentary One More Time with Feeling, this is Nick Cave’s statement of faith. Ghosteen is unlike any record he’s made before, often sung in a desperate, reckless, heedless, loving voice unheard till now.

Tahliah Barnett has been having a rough old time of it. There was that doomed celebrity romance (Robert Pattinson) and some health issues (I’m not entirely sure if we need to know about her operation to have fibroids removed) but suffering, as we are all aware, is the fuel of creativity.

Land of Kush are an ambitious 20-piece plus ensemble which features all manner of instruments from strings, horns, piano, guitar, santur, darbouka, oud and synths, as well as multiple vocalists and percussionists.

At once grandiose and down to earth, ELO belong to the Seventies moment which lovingly pastiched simple Fifties rock’n’roll, with added sweeping strings left over from their own early conceptual prog. Double-album Out of the Blue’s status as 1978’s 10-million-selling hit of the year saw them sturdily survive New Wave, thanks to Jeff Lynne’s single-writing knack matching any skinny tie-sporting rival.

Jeff Goldblum’s 2018 debut, Jeff Goldblum & The Mildred Snitzer Orchestra - The Capitol Studios Sessions, was one of the great surprises of last autumn, its infectious, feel-good vibe and self-deprecating retro pastiche as engaging as a favourite Hollywood movie on a grey day. And live at the Cadogan Hall Goldblum was a treat, a real-life Mr Nice Guy who was just so good and so funny.

This new Eureka! boxset of 4K and 2K restorations provides ample evidence as to why Samuel Fuller was venerated by such a wide range of film-makers, including Godard, Wenders, Scorsese and Tarantino. 

Underworld’s first album in three years comes in two versions: a seven-CD box set with a disc of Blu-ray visuals and an 80-page full-colour book or a stand-alone ten-track sampler, which is also included in the gargantuan release. As theartsdesk has only been sent the single disc, we can only comment on the condensed version. This is, however, more than enough to excite interest in the present activities of a band that for a generation of old ravers provided the high point of many evenings on the dancefloor, shouting “lager, lager, lager, lager”.

From brooding masterpieces (”Love for Sale”) to classic list songs ("Let's Do It"), Cole Porter was one of the greatest songsmiths of the 20th century. As one of his peers, Richard Rodgers, eloquently put it: "Few people realise how architecturally excellent his music is. There's a foundation, a structure and an embellishment. Then you add the emotion he's put in and the result is Cole Porter."

Michael Kiwanuka looks set to conquer. His previous two albums set him up as the sensitive singer-songwriter who tips his hat to the muscular soul music of Bill Withers and Curtis Mayfield; the lone troubadour who’s clearly listened to more than a smidgeon of tough-edged indie in his time. Iggy Pop kept playing him on BBC Radio 6.

James Blunt loves to joke about how gloomy his songs are and he says Once Upon a Mind is his most depressing collection yet. But the truth is that the album is really just agonisingly safe and painfully middle-of-the-road. (For the most part) Blunt has stared into his dark night of the soul and turned it into something beige and inoffensive.

Partly it's the voice. That thin, strangely inert warble. It's also Blunt's tendency to treat every subject as a melancholy singalong. You might imagine a song about your relationship with your wife, would aim for a close, intimate feel. Instead, "Cold" has a chorus that sounds like it was designed to be sung by 10,000 fans. "Champions" is even huger and more pompous. 

Both tracks have been designed to evoke Blunt's debut, Back to Bedlam. And why not? It is, after all, his biggest hit to date. More surprising are the handful of songs that hark back to 2017's not-so-successful experiment in electro-pop, The Afterlove. Even with Blunt's army of co-writers, these are so anonymous, so lacking in character, they barely exist. The auto-tune on "5 Miles" renders Blunt's voice barely recognisable, and "Younger", with it's EDM beats, talks about growing old gracefully but sounds more like a mid-life crisis

It's only when Blunt sings about his ill father that he finally delivers on his promise of real emotion. "How It Feels to Be Alive" is a sprawling piano-led melodrama, whose verses nod to early Tom McRae. The most affecting track, though, is "Monsters" based on Blunt's experiences sitting by his father's hospital bed. It may be overblown, and hugely sentimental, but when Blunt sings about trying to chase his dad's monsters away, it's also genuinely moving. If only he'd lay himself bare more often.

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@russcoffey

 Overleaf: James Blunt's video for "Cold"