I start this week with the soft crooning of Jamie Woon on his new album, Making Time, his second after 2011 debut Mirrorwriting. You may be familiar with the artist from the success of previous singles such as ‘Night Air’ and ‘Lady Luck’, tracks which came to popularity alongside the work of James Blake, the two artists mixing their soulful falsettos with electronic layers and trip-hop beats. Tracks like ‘Sharpness’ and ‘Message’ follow this formula, but as the album progresses the work becomes more stripped back, showing Woon has managed to mature the sound of his earlier stuff. ‘Skin’, for example, lets its plodding beat and crashing harmonies do all the work, while ‘Little Wonder’ verges on an acoustic sound, as his voice becomes even sleepier and dripping with soul than usual, accompanied by quiet, raw riffs. It’s not all slow though, with ‘Celebration’ coming as close to upbeat as Woon’s work probably ever will, but still using his trademark slightly-uncomfortable key changes and a mixture of brass and synths. Making Time folds layers of slow ambience and lethargy on top of each other to leave a rich and masterful album.

One of the first artists Woon opened for was Amy Winehouse, whose work has been released once more this week on the soundtrack to the documentary about her life, Amy. After her unbelievably sad death in 2011, Lioness: Hidden Treasures was quickly assembled and released. This new work though, coming as it does on the back of the uncomfortable reflections that the film left us with, is surely a greater testament to the talent and troubles of her life. There isn’t much new or unheard music, excepting a downtempo version of ‘Some Unholy War’, and a demo of ‘Like Smoke’. This last is short and incomplete, but it’s one of the rare places you can hear Winehouse playing with her remarkable voice and leave the listener feeling closer to the singer than any of her big hits. Tracks composed for the film by Antonio Pinto are scattered throughout, providing reflective and accomplished sounds that if nothing else remind you of the sombre background of the album. Overall though, ‘Amy’ is a remarkable reflection on her life and work, with her collaboration with Tony Bennett, ‘Body and Soul’, reminding the listener of the enduring mark she left on soul, blues and jazz.

Finally, the collaborative project between The National’s Matt Berninger and Menomena’s Brett Knopf, EL VY, and their album Return to the Moon. The epic lyricism and smooth, treacle tones of the National’s frontman are all here, but the general sound of the album is wackier and more 70s than his usual work, particularly on tracks like ‘Silent Ivy Hotel’. ‘I’m the man to be’ meanwhile verges on surrealist, mixing in spoken lyrics such as “I’ll be the one in the lobby in the green collared ‘fuck me’ shirt” with raw electric riffs and tripping xylophones. I’m not really sure where the need for this project came from, but it works. It mixes the obscene vocals and storytelling of Berninger with the epic, prismatic rock of Knopf and creates a polished ablum that uses the best of both. Even when the tracks start to blur together, sounds like those of ‘Happiness, Missouri’ and ‘Paul is Alive’ jolt the listener awake with their eclectic mixes of rock and electronica and the bizarre reflections and echoing howls that make up the vocals. This album is weird, wonderful and totally unmissable.