Back catalogue: All genres

Review: Cafe Tacvba's Re was released in July 1994 but remains one of the most groundbreaking albums in Latin rock. The sprawling double LP produced by Gustavo Santaolalla fused punk, norteNo, funk and traditional Mexican sounds into a daring, genre-defying opus. Tracks like 'El Baile y El Salon' and 'La Ingrata' became almost instant anthems, while deeper cuts elsewhere explored death, identity and national pride. Often compared to The White Album by The Beatles, Re delivered cohesion through diversity and elevated Mexican rock to new artistic heights. Thirty years on, it's a cult classic and cultural cornerstone and is essential listening that reshaped rock en espaNol and inspired generations who came after.

Review: While not the band's final album, there's a solid argument to be made that 1995's Worry Bomb was Carter USM's last hurrah - a top-ten set that marked the beginning of the end for the distinctive South London duo. This expanded 30th anniversary edition pairs a remastered version of the original album -which boasts typically gritty, soaring and powerful classics such as 'Young Offenders Mum', the punky 'Airplane Food/Airplane Fast Food' medley, the riotous 'Me & Mr Jones' and the introspective 'My Defeatist Attitude' - with a disc of B-sides and rarities and, most excitingly, a previously unreleased live album of their performance at the 1994 Pheonix Festival. Throw in a DVD featuring videos, Top of the Pops appearances and freshly recorded interviews, and you have an essential item for Carter fans.

Review: Sarah Mary Chadwick's ninth album drifts in on the smoke and hush of a late-night confessional. Half jukebox heartbreak, half art-song seance, we find a multi-talented but downcast musician tiptoeing the edge of a major life shift, as Chadwick sings of the moments before a commitment to sobriety. Hers is the kind of detoxified clarity that only hindsight allows; tremulous voices sing with candid exposure on 'I'm Not Clinging To Life' through subjects of age and lost time, backlaid by piano pitched so high we can feel vicariously the artist's vertigo. The New Zealand-born Melbourner recorded the album with Chris Townend, who reamped the full mix through a piano held open by a sandbag to create its strange, aspirant reverb effect heard throughout. The result is a record attenuated by granular bulks of memory and detachment; devastation, reframed with restraint.

Review: Pearl Charles presides over the true with Desert Queen, her most refined work yet: a bittersweet set recorded in Joshua Tree with producer Lewis Pesacov and mixed by Michael Rault. Drawing on the velveteen textures of classic Stax sides, the album drapes Charles's crisp songwriting in brass, strings and soft grooves, caught somewhere in the smoky control of Karen Carpenter and the group swagger of Memphis session royalty. This is west coast country-soul at its most elegant, with a light touch and a lingering warmth.

Review: Civic frontman Jim McCullogh apparently likes the idea of his band being more of a "mind set" than a group per se. Each record adds another layer to that perspective, like the evolution of a character rather than the trajectory of a troubadour troupe. In this case "one of the main objectives for this album was to make a drastic turn in our sound. Break the mould, melt the steel." Of course, there's still that heavily post-punk influenced Civic sound coursing through the rhythms here, and it's as gritty as ever. But it's also full of curveballs and unexpected twists, at times punting for a more jangle-y atmosphere, in other moments something resolutely muscular and main stage. Either way, it's going to hit you in the face and refuse to apologise.

Review: A four sided selection of remixes of the goth kingpins' widely acclaimed and long awaited latest album Songs of a Lost World. From the moment Paul Oakenfold's 'I Can Never Say Goodbye' rework opens proceedings i lush strings, half-submerged vocals, and a cinematic pace i it's clear that curation, not just contribution, has shaped the form. Orbital turn 'Endsong' into a glistening spiral of sequencers and tension, while Sally C's raw house take on 'A Fragile Thing' ups the pulse without disturbing the gloom. Smith i still unmistakably the same outsider from Crawley, West Sussex i guides things with restraint, letting the space speak louder than the noise. Four Tet's version of 'Alone' closes the first disc like a forgotten lullaby, cracked and glinting. You don't get every remix i the more textural, post-rock turns are gone i but you do get a sharp cross-section that keeps faith with both atmosphere and momentum. It's the kind of record that feels designed for the night: not to lift it, exactly, but to sink into it willingly, track by track.

Review: Robert Smith has always treated remixing less like revision, more like ritual i a habit that's followed him since his days in Crawley, West Sussex and then surfacing officially on the first Cure remix album, 1990's Mixed Up. This triple-disc release of reworkings from the band's latest LP Songs of a Lost World feels assembled with obsessive care, mapping out every possible mood lurking beneath the surface. There are club-ready flips, yes i Sally C, Danny Briottet and Gregor Tresher all push the rhythm forward i but they sit beside glacial pieces that feel more like haunted sketches than reworks. Mura Masa's take on 'All I Ever Am' is disintegrated almost beyond recognition, its vocal a flickering memory. Mogwai's 'Endsong' feels like the end of the world in slow motion. Even Chino Moreno turns in something striking i 'WarSong' morphs into a sludgy howl with heat-warped edges. But it's the sequencing that surprises: these aren't bolted together, but grouped in arcs, as though Smith were arranging the bones of an old idea into something still alive. Four Tet's version of 'Alone' is a high point i deeply textured but featherlight. Like all The Cure's output, what really matters is the feeling of being drawn somewhere, and Smith's hand never letting go.

Review: More than four decades after he first appeared in smudged eyeliner and a mop of jet-black hair, Robert Smith is still finding new ways to pull his music apart and stitch it back together. This new remix collection i assembled and curated by Smith himself i feels less like a victory lap and more like a restless dissection of a legacy he's still actively shaping. The collaborators here are hardly incidental: Four Tet, Orbital, Ame, Chino Moreno, Mura Masa, Trentemoller, Mogwai. It reads like a list built by someone still hungrily tuned into the present, not stuck in the past. And true to form, the results are all over the place i a feature, not a flaw. Some tracks lean into grandeur: Paul Oakenfold's take on 'I Can Never Say Goodbye' opens with all the sweeping melodrama you'd expect, while Daybreakers stretch 'WarSong' into widescreen synthwork. Elsewhere, Shanti Celeste and Ex-Easter Island Head bring a strange intimacy to 'Alone', teasing out its ache with a different kind of spaciousness. At times, you wonder if Smith enjoys seeing how far his work can be bent before it breaks. But it never does i even filtered through others' hands, his sense of tension, drama and deep emotional unease holds everything together.

Review: This brilliant double album captures legendary UK miserablists The Cure live in Rio de Janeiro's Apotheosis Square back in early 1996, during a performance broadcast by the King Biscuit Flower Hour. The setlist blends plenty of their classics with newer material from their Wild Mood Swings era, including fan favourites like 'A Forest,' 'Disintegration,' 'In Between Days,' 'Fom The Edge Of The Deep Green Sea' and the evergreen 'Boys Don't Cry.' It's a testament to the fact that the band was still evolving and able to conjure real emotional intensity that was as powerful in the mid-'90s as in their early post-punk days.

Review: Captured during The Cure's seminal 1981 Picture Tour, this vital 13-track collection is a raw, atmospheric glimpse into a band deep in their post-punk ascent. Recorded while promoting their haunting third album Faith, the setlist draws from early classics like 'A Forest,' '10:15 Saturday Night' and 'Fire in Cairo' while darker cuts like 'All Cats Are Grey' and 'Play for Today' showcase the band's moody evolution from wiry, spiky songsmiths into epic goth pioneers. Stripped-down, urgent and undeniably magnetic, this live recording cemented The Cure's status as generational icons and even more years it, it is still resonant with intensity and vulnerability.