How did I come to have it? No idea. Wherever it was, it was bought strictly for completeness' sake.

What's on it? Bowie's sixteenth proper album from 1987 (in case you're wondering, looking at the previous posting, the one I'm missing is Pinups).

How many times have I listened to it? Once or twice.

Where did I listen to it? Sitting at my desk working.

What did I think of it? Not a lot. Muddy production, dull songs, daft cover. Never let me down, eh? WELL, MR BOWIE, YOU DID! (See what I did there?)

Will I listen to it again? Unlikely. And when I think of all the other Bowie CDs I could have picked...

How did I come to have it? I have no idea. HMV? Virgin megastore?

What's on it? Bowie's fifth proper album from 1973, following on from Ziggy Stardust. Ten tracks, with no bonuses - oddly, because this series of reissues usually had loads of them.

How many times have I listened to it? Loads. LOADS.

Where did I listen to it? In the car, on the way to Stevenage and back.

What did I think of it? It's Bowie. The man can do no wrong, at least up until Tonight. But the thing about this one is the piano playing. Bowie's brilliance is in the way he absorbs other people's influences and makes them his own, so that each album is an advance on the previous one - except of course for Tonight. And part of this involves his choice of sidesmen, the important one this time being Mike Garson, who dominates the key tracks Aladdin Sane and Lady Grinning Soul. I don't know anyone else who plays quite like him apart from Keith Tippett, with those weird clusters and the sense of being just off the beat by exactly the right amount. Wonderful.

Will I listen to it again? Are you mad? Of course I will.

How did I come to have it? I think I got it from Amazon. For completeness' sake.

What's on it? Twenty tracks from ten different sessions recorded for the BBC. Not entirely sure if it's "complete", frankly. But more of that later.

How many times have I listened to it? Not many. I've played the original studio albums to death, however.

Where did I listen to it? In the car, on the way to give a talk to a writers' group (ooh, get me).

What did I think of it? Frankly, in my humble opinion, there is not much that the Bonzos can do wrong. I would quite happily listen to Vivian Stanshall reading extracts from the St Albans telephone directory. So of course I enjoyed it. There isn't much on there that doesn't appear elsewhere, apart from the wonderful "Give Booze a Chance", a wonderful piss-take on the old Plastic Ono Band number, and "The Craig Torso Show", which is a splendid parody of terrible daytime radio that hasn't aged a day. "Give Booze a Chance" is actually rather brilliant, because it latches onto the ramshackle nature of "Give Peace a Chance" and turns it into an entirely credible drunken singalong.

But... (there's always a but) ... IT HASN'T GOT "BIG SHOT" ON IT! "Big Shot" is unquestionably the GREATEST SONG OF ALL TIME, and surely they must have recorded it for the Beeb? But apparently not, and the album is greatly diminished as a result.

Oh, and the cover is utterly hideous.

Will I listen to it again? From time to time. But the box set of the first four studio albums will always be my first port of call, with an occasional dip into "Let's Make Up and Be Friendly".

*shakes head*

No "Big Shot".

I ask you.

*walks away muttering*

How did I come to have it? I think I bought it in the HMV sale.

What's on it? It's the fourth and most recent album from the notoriously un-prolific Blue Nile.

How many times have I listened to it? Not many, if the truth were told.

Where did I listen to it? In the car, on the way to the vet and back.

What did I think of it? I really, really wanted to like this. The Blue Nile are almost a textbook definition of a cult band, taking up to eight years between each album, each of which hardly sells any copies but is lapped up by their loyal, ageing fanbase. Trouble is, the sound is so consummately beautiful and tasteful that it doesn't make much of an impression. One track, "Soul Boy", stood out for me because it seemed to be doing something a bit different with the chord sequences. The rest passed me by altogether. I've got all their other albums too and, apart from "Happiness" on "Peace at Last" and maybe a line or two from "Tinseltown in the Rain", I would struggle to hum any of them. Maybe it's time to give up.

Will I listen to it again? Well, I'll give it one more go sometime, I guess.

How did I come to have it? I think I bought it in a shop, back in the early 90s.

What's on it? Bliss' Pastoral "Lie strewn the white flocks", Britten's Choral dances from "Gloriana" and Holst's Hymns from the Rig Veda, all performed by the Holst singers and orchestra, conducted by Hilary Davan Wetton.

How many times have I listened to this? I used to listen to it a lot, but I haven't for quite some time.

Where did I listen to it? Sitting at my desk, working.

What did I think of it? Why, why, why have I not listened to this more often? It's gorgeous. Stand-out moments are the male-voice only "Rustics and Fishermen" from "Gloriana", which I remember singing back in the day when I was in the City of London Choir, and the sublime Holst piece, another potent reminder that he composed so much more than the sodding Planets (check out his "Hammersmith" if you ever get the chance - very unusual piece for wind band).

Will I listen to it again? Definitely.

How did I come to have it? I got this from Amazon last year at the same time as their other two CDs, "Happy Families" and "Mange Tout".

What's on it? The original 11 tracks of bouncy 80s electropop, plus four extras, including a "megamix" of their monster hit "Living on the Ceiling".

How many times have I listened to this? Not a lot.

Where did I listen to this? Sitting at my desk, working.

What did I think of it? Hmmm. I wasn't even aware that there was a third Blancmange album until I came to order the other two, so I can't help feeling that it didn't make much impact on the world. Indeed, the cover doesn't exactly give the impression of a great deal of care being exercised over the quality of the product (the word slapdash doesn't even begin to describe it). Still, it claims to contain the hits "Lose Your Love" and "What's Your Problem", although - again - these are not titles that automatically spring to mind when one is sequencing a medley of 80s classics.

I have to report that it was something of a disappointment. A couple of early tracks stood out as being quite catchy, but the rest was, frankly, a bit grim, especially the seven-minute epic "22339". The "Mixing on the Ceiling" megamix extra added nothing to the splendid quirkiness of the original, either.

Will I listen to it again? Probably, just to see if something lodges in my brain eventually. But it's not a patch on "Mange Tout", which I played to death as an LP. Indeed, that album's wonderful version of Abba's "The Day Before You Came" (made before Abba became OK to like, if I remember correctly) is probably the closest thing Mrs P and I have to "our tune". All together now: awwwwww.

How did I come to have it? I think I bought this one in a sale in the Oxford Street Virgin Megastore. Then I took it back to replace the jewel case because it was broken. Not sure which is sadder - the fact that I did that, or the fact that I remember I did.

What's on it? A selection of remixes of most of the tracks on her second album, "Post".

How many times have I played this? Considering how many times I've listened to my other Björk CDs, surprisingly few.

Where did I listen to this? Driving up the M1 to Leeds one evening.

What did I think of it? Can I start by saying what an amazing place Iceland is? How can a country with the population of a medium-sized English county town (Derby is about the closest in size) produce not one but TWO of the most fascinating rock acts in the world (Sigur Ros being the other one, of course)? Not only that, but the singer on possibly the best song on any soundtrack ever (Emiliana Torrini and "Gollum's Song" from "The Two Towers", since you asked)? Plus writers like Sjön (you have read "The Blue Fox", haven't you?)

The thing about Björk (and the same observation probably applies to Sigur Ros) is that she is one of the few acts to have made it to global stardom whilst still being occasionally quite challenging to listen to. There aren't many others who fall into that category - Radiohead's probably another one, maybe Kate Bush - but their existence is a constant reminder that the general public can sometimes be persuaded to raise their listening game a little higher than the likes of Simon Cowell would have us believe.

OK, rant over. Yes, I enjoyed it. A lot. Fascinating record, even if some of the remixes were almost unrecognisable (at least over the sound of the engine). But that's OK, and I liked the Brodsky Quartet version of "Hyperballad" particularly.

Her latest album, "Biophilia", is pretty damn ace too.

Oh, and other Icelandic acts are available. Check out Soley and Of Monsters and Men some time - you won't be disappointed.

Will I listen to it again? Certainly will.

How did I come to have it? Have a feeling I bought it going cheap a few years back in Woolworths before embarking on a long car journey with Mrs P, who is partial to a bit of R'n'R.

What's on it: Two CDs containing 50 old-school classics from the 50s and early 60s, with one glaring omission. There is NOTHING by Elvis Presley on it. Not a hip-swivelling sausage.

How many times have I played this? Once on that car trip and probably once or twice since.

Where did I listen to this? Sitting at my desk, working.

What did I think of it? To be honest, I wasn't expecting much. I've never been a massive fan of traditional Rock-n'Roll, with the exception of a wonderful compilation called simply "Elvis 56" which contains everything he did in that one year - some of the most exciting, raw and urgent music you'll ever hear. And, like I said, there's no Elvis here. But I was pleasantly surprised by the variety of stuff on offer here, even if I was more drawn to novelties such as Johnny and the Hurricanes' "Red River Rock" and Del Shannon's "Runaway" (yes, it IS a novelty record - it's got a silly organ thing on it, so there). There was even a song I didn't recognise on it (Phil Phillips & The Twilights' "Sea of Love"), which was a pleasant surprise.

Will I listen to it again? Y'know, I might just do that.

How did I come to have it? I bought it in HMV I think back in the late 90s.

What's on it: Two CDs containing 44 Christmas classics of varying quality; a snapshot of the best available in 1996.

How many times have I played this? At least once a year, round about now.

Where did I listen to this? Around the house, whilst putting up the Christmas decorations.

What did I think of it? First of all, I would like to say that this is indeed the next CD in the sequence - the fact that I'm reviewing it now is a happy coincidence. I've actually got quite a few of these "best...ever" CD sets, including both punk ones, both disco ones and the slightly more obscure Northern Soul one. Oh, and all three Air Guitar ones. Did you know that they were all put together by the same person? I didn't until I read an interview with him in Q Magazine a few years back. Actually, curating a good compilation is quite an art, although the undisputed master is David Toop. It will cost you a fortune and a lot of eBay watching, but I really do recommend tracking down every single compilation he's been involved with, from "Ocean of Sound" onwards. They are all absolutely wonderful.

Anyway, back to this one. It is, inevitably, a bit of a mixed bag. CD1 has most of the classics, including "Happy Xmas (War is Over)", "Merry Xmas Everybody" (can't do the backwards s thing) and "Do They Know It's Christmas?" and to a large extent they're all great. I'll go so far as giving Chris de Burgh the benefit of the doubt, even if his spaceman does come travelling through light years of time (but then George Lucas cocked up his units on the Kessler run timings, didn't he?). The CD is also one of the few places where you get to hear Gary Glitter these days, if that happens to float your boat. I guess we can at least be thankful that Johnathan King never had a Christmas hit.

And of course it does have "A Fairytale of New York" on it: the single best Christmas song ever written. I could devote an entire essay to rabbiting on about what a work of genius this is and how gloriously appropriate it is for the Christmas season and how I would gladly have had Kirsty MacColl's babies, but I'll spare you that for now. Maybe some other time.

On CD2, things go a bit tits up as the compiler starts to close in on the bottom of the barrel. OK, I'll happily accept classics such as "White Christmas" and "The Christmas Song" but when we get to Robson and Jerome doing "I believe" and Mel Smith and Kim Wilde's truly horrible version of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" you know it's going downhill fast, an impression reinforced by the bizarre inclusion of State of the Heart's (who?) version of "Last Christmas". I guess there were licensing issues, but replacing Wham's version with a cover played apparently by a bunch of rejects from the James Last Orchestra was a very bad move indeed. Things finally bottom out somewhere between The Weavers belting out "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" and The Spinners plodding through "The Twelve Days of Christmas", before Bert Jansch steps in as the unexpected saviour of the album with his lovely and unexpectedly melodic version of "In the Bleak Midwinter".

Other Christmas albums are of course available, including (ahem) "The Phil Spector Christmas Album" (and that "Hello, this is Phil Spector" voiceover at the end sounds creepier with every passing year, doesn't it?) and the essential "Trojan Christmas Box Set", in which the content of most of the tracks seem to distill down to "All I Want for Christmas is a Big Fat Spliff". Lovely.

Will I listen to it again? Almost certainly. In around a year's time.

How did I come to have it? Hmmm. I think I bought it at some point during my disastrous sojourn as a member of the Britannia Music Club. Suspect it may have been one of those Recommended Recordings that you had to reject within a certain time if you didn't want to get lumbered with it.

What's on it: A selection of folksy pieces played by Bell on violin and Meyer on bass, plus a couple of bluegrass chums. Don't think the dog plays anything.

How many times have I played this? Just the once.

Where did I listen to this? Sitting at my desk, working.

What did I think of it? Wow, this was dull. Joshua Bell is an ace violinist who seems to turn up a lot on Classic FM (presumably when Andre Rieu isn't available), and I can see this might have been an interesting concept, combining classical and folk skills together. Oddly, the results sound more Irish than bluegrass, but it doesn't really matter because the whole confection is so bland, passion-free and tasteful that it goes through you and out the other end without touching the sides. I spent most of the time yearning for Shane MacGowan to barge his way in, grab the thing by the scruff of the neck and give it some real feeling. Awful.

Will I listen to it again? Unlikely. This is the first CD I've listened to in this project that I'm really tempted to take to the charity shop.