Music has never felt more important. While politicians debated our future, badly and in heated, farce-to-farce debates, the electorate went to war with each other – on social media mainly. The atmosphere is toxic and we’re surrounded by the bodies of those who chose to die on hills that wouldn’t trouble the contours of an OS map. As we navigate the fallout, I’d really recommend going the extra mile and splashing out on noise-cancelling headphones. It’s going to be a while before the bluster blows over.

This is a bittersweet recommendation to make.

It was hard avoid bleak in 2019. Then the election hit and everything went off a cliff. Watching the world turn to a shit-bowl of ignorance and greed, the raging nihilism of the year’s key film, Joker, suddenly seemed appealing. The 2020s will be about a response, clearly, but in the meantime spirits need lifting. The album that has served that purpose round my way since its release in April has been No Geography by The Chemical Brothers.

Britain is unpleasant to look at right now, ugly and foolish, so why not lock down with some tuneage. Below is the best plastic that’s hit theartsdesk on Vinyl over the last month, all genres, all the time. Watch out for the forthcoming Christmas Special where we’ll endeavour to find the seasonal good cheer we’re not currently feeling.

VINYL OF THE MONTH

Kimyan Law Yonda (Blu Mar Ten Music)

“Trance boogie,” states My Baby frontwoman Cato van Dijck before submersing herself in the rising tribal rhythm of “Sunflower Sutra". Trance boogie is, indeed, what My Baby do. The song is decked with floating flecks of glissando guitar from virtuosic New Zealand bandmate Daniel Johnston on the other side of the stage. “Sing with me, brother,” Cato demands with a smile and behind his drum kit her sibling Joost leans into his microphone and harmonises. Behind it all is a housey four-to-the-floor beat, but their sound is all organic groove.

The O2 is usually a bright, sterile space before the bands come on. Its starkly lit US sports event ambience is accentuated by humanity milling around layered plastic seating clutching giant tubs of soft drink. Not so tonight. The venue has been open for three hours before the headline act is due. The lighting is purposefully dingy as 2ManyDJs and James Holroyd spin techno-flavoured sounds, warming up the crowd.

It’s seven years since Portugal’s muscular psychedelicists, 10.000 Russos got together and five since they released their barnstorming, self-titled EP. In that time, they’ve put out numerous other EPs, singles, appearances on compilation discs and three albums, including a collaboration with Dutch industrialists, RMFTM. However, their latest long-player, Kompromat could just end up being their defining piece of work.

There couldn't be much that's more techno than for a musician to have had a quarter-century career, only just be releasing his second solo album, and making it a quadruple.

Ever since rock’n’roll began, the orchestral cover version has played a contentious role in popular music. It has sometimes signified a revision of raw musical styles for those who prefer being spoon-fed; it has sometimes represented aspirations to high culture and the concert halls of yore; in more recent years, it’s often been a gambit to persuade those growing older to re-listen to a defanged version of their youth. And it’s almost always a cash-in.

In the eight years since theartsdesk last spoke to Carl Craig, a lot has happened. He moved from his native Detroit for a sojourn in Barcelona (partly for ease of access to his summer DJ residencies in Ibiza), then recently returned. He's reinvented tracks from his back catalogue for orchestra, in a style he dubbed "action and adventure" - certainly more John Williams than Debussy - and has performed them as such around the world.