A while back, someone at Uncut pointed out to me that one of the words I overused when writing about music was “feral”. He was right, too: I’d got into a habit of using the term whenever the psychedelia and crypto-primitive folk jams that I listen to so much got a little wilder and smellier, became a bit more instinctual, or at least convincingly pretended to be instinctual.

Apart from a few Beach Boys and Kosmische things I picked up in America in the early ‘90s, I’ve never been much of a bootleg collector; never had the time, I guess, with so much legitimately released music to get hooked on. As a consequence, my knowledge of Neil Young’s “Chrome Dreams” was limited to hazy memories from rush-reading Jimmy McDonough’s “Shakey” until news of “Chrome Dreams II” broke a few weeks ago.

It occurred to me last night, a minute or so into “Dance Dance Dance”, that I might have been a little blasé about this latest visitation from Brian Wilson and his band. As Alexis Petridis noted in his excellent review of the first night of Wilson’s latest Festival Hall residency, there’s a vague feeling of “nostalgia fatigue” surrounding these dates. I’ve seen him do “Pet Sounds”, “Smile”, and great further swathes of his gilded back catalogue, and I haven’t seen many better gigs in the past decade. But did I really need to see him do it again?

So today at Uncut we've been frantically finishing the issue, struggling in vain to make an online streaming of the new Om album work and, oh yeah, doing a lot of interviews with various radio and TV stations about this Led Zeppelin reunion.

Another playlist today. There is one other record we've played, but without appearing too corny and clandestine, I'm going to keep its identity secret for now, since we got hold of it by faintly nefarious means. Hopefully I'll be able to post something more revealing in the next few days. In the meantime, here's today's selection; a bit of a curious lot, when I write them down. . .

There are times when I receive a reissue of a record that I've never heard of, and begin to wonder whether some massive and elaborate hoax is being perpetrated. I had that feeling about 45 minutes ago, when I put on "Iron Curtain Innocence" by Bobb Trimble for the first time.

Recently, there seems to have been something of a Krautrock revival, comparable to that time in the early ‘90s when Stereolab, Tortoise and sundry putative post-rockers were assiduously cribbing their old Neu! albums. The appearance of a neat Harmonia live CD, that I blogged about some weeks ago, has been followed by a bunch of very nice records in much the same burbling, kosmische vein.

Looks like I'm going to be resorting to a few playlists rather than full blogs this week. An exciting combination of deadlines and emergency dental work, and the distraction this afternoon of a man in a very good gorilla suit running around the office (blame NME) mean I haven't much time at the moment. But I'm still simultaneously working my way through the pile of new CDs that amassed while I was on vacation. Here, then, is what we've played thus far today:

Nice to see on the responses to my comeback blog that a few of you are sharing the love for the Ethiopiques comps. The Yegelle Tezeta and Girma Beyene tracks mentioned by Citizensound and Tunetourist aren’t on the "Very Best Of Ethiopiques" set, but thanks for the recommendations for Volumes 8 and 9.

There's a lot of static in the ether, as you may have detected, about the likelihood of a Led Zeppelin reunion sometime this autumn. That'd be nice, of course. But as I was listening to the new Robert Plant album for the first time this morning, it struck me: why would he bother going back there, when he's making records as good as this right now?