Andrey Zvyagintsev is without doubt one of the great film-makers of our time. If you only know Leviathan, it's about time you looked at the rest of his considerable oeuvre. What is it about Russian cinema?

This Saturday marks Record Shop Day, when Midas-touch music execs turn car-boot staples into gold simply by re-releasing them and charging 30 quid for the pleasure. Normally, the pressing-plant backlog that these needless, gaudy trinkets cause means that new music, typically that put out by innovative artists on small independent labels, gets moved to the back of the queue so that the big fat kids can get their dinner first.

There’s a crisis in popular musical vocals. They’ve reached a very naff stasis. After a decade-and-a-half of Cowell hegemony and stars that have risen during the same period, a generation thinks there are only two ways to express emotion. One is melismatic singing (for women – wandering wildly about the higher registers on every syllable, a la Mariah Carey/Whitney Houston), the other is voice-breaking (for men - cracking into a vulnerable falsetto a la Jeff Buckley/Coldplay). It’s all very boring. There are so, so many other ways to express emotion. Just ask Louis Armstrong, Ian Dury, Courtney Barnett and thousands of others, including Greg McDonald.

McDonald, once of indie band The Dawn Parade, then a solo artist, now fronts folk outfit Glymjack (Victorian slang for lantern-bearing street-child guide). He has a voice that quavers in a way that, when the song is up to muster, is wrenching. A comparative reference might be the late Nikki Sudden, but McDonald has his very own style. A decade ago he released a fantastic, underheard singer-songwriter album Stranger at the Door, which he’s struggled to match since, but on Light the Evening Fire he occasionally hits its heights, albeit in a different medium.

For fans of proper folk-rock, in the Fairport/Bellowhead vein, there’s plenty to get their teeth into, with McDonald backed energetically by fiddler Gemma Gayner on songs such as “Bows of London” and “The Sweet Trinity” which have part-song harmonies and a rich, catchy archaic feel. For me, though, McDonald’s poetic, literate, raw, unadorned songwriting is what hits best on the slow-building doomed darkness of “Night Vision”, the socially conscious storytelling of “Hope Point”, and the soulful outsider statement of “Bright Sparks”.

Glymjack sees McDonald back out there working the circuit, his unique singing style and songwriting skill both on fine form. Maybe Glymjack will finally be the making of him and his accomplices. That would be a welcome development.

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Overleaf: watch a trailer for Glymjack's album Light the Evening Fire

Paradox is a strange stoner Western directed by Neil Young’s partner Daryl Hannah. You can see it on Netflix. The soundtrack is by Neil Young and his now regular band, Promise of the Real, which includes two of Willie Nelson's sons, Micah and Lukas. Members of the band and Young play themselves in the film, or at least play roles that seem inspired by their fantasies of themselves as figures of the old Wild West.

George Orwell’s maxim that sport is war minus the shooting never loses its currency. This summer it may acquire more when the football squads of the pampered west head for Russia. Historically, it applies to a small sub-genre of films about the British Empire. Lagaan, whose title unpromisingly translates as “tax”, was a stirring story of the Indian servants taking on and beaten the occupiers of their country.

Over the years the Manics have travelled a varied and adventurous musical path with styles ranging from punk to disco-rock. One thing has remained constant: their intense sense of righteousness. Until now. Resistance is Futile finds the band in a more relaxed mood. And curiously, it suits them rather well. 

The subtext of the album is the fading of the anger of youth. The tone is established on the first track, "People Give In", a kind of blend of Nick Cave's "People Ain't No Good" and Leiber/Stoller's "Is that all there is?". The sweeping chorus - "there is no theory of everything" - sets out a philosophical approach that runs throughout. It's especially evident on the album's many nuanced "Kevin Carter"-style mini-biographies. These include sketches on Yves Klein (“International Blue”), Dylan Thomas (“Dylan and Caitlin”) and photographer Vivian Maier (“Vivian”).

Musically, Resistance is Futile feels optimistic and upbeat. "International Blue” mixes a Guns'n'Roses-style guitar lick with a barnstorming pop rhythm. “Dylan and Caitlin”, a lovely soul-folk duet, has a more covert sense of positivity. The blend of vocals - James Dean Bradfield and The Anchoress - finds some of the passion in a troubled marriage. “Liverpool Revisited” pulls off a similar trick. The subject is Hillsborough and yet the song's anthemic quality is less of tragedy and more of an indefatigable spirit.

Some will miss the old, heart-on-sleeve sense of political struggle. But the Manics have never been a band to stand still. Besides, you’d have to be a real stick-in-the-mud not to fall for the euphoric Eighties pastiche, “Hold Me Like a Heaven”. Yes, there are a couple of slightly flabby tracks towards the end, but this doesn't really matter. Ultimately, Resistance is Futile is another fine album that shows that the Manics continue to be one of our most interesting and exciting bands.

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Overleaf: The Manics' video for "Distant Colours"