If a tree writes a masterpiece in a forest but no one is around to hear it, is it still a masterpiece? What if a Wooden Wand writes a hundred of them? America’s most underrated songwriter, James Jackson Toth, ploughs forth with Farmer’s Corner, blessing us with nine more tracks of divinely remarkable alt-country-acid-folk.

X-Men: Days of Future Past brings the current-day cast members (Jackman, Stewart, McKellen) together with their younger counterparts from the 2011 prequel First Class (McAvoy, Fassbender, Lawrence) for one big, wild mutant smorgasborg.

At this stage in the game, we sort of know what to expect when Calgary homebody Chad VanGaalen puts out a new album: woozy, spacious, acoustic-based tracks that cut beautiful, melancholy, desert-flower melodies with disturbing background noise; lyrics full of strange imagery that itches at your brain; sinewy vocal harmonies.

It’s the 20th anniversary of Oasis’ debut album, Definitely Maybe, and we get a brand new remastered box set, with two discs’ worth of bonus material. We also get a pretty cold promotion from lead singer Liam Gallagher via a caps-locked tweet insisting that nobody “buy into it.” So now what?

Director David Gaynes’ understated documentary follows eight senior citizens as they make a pilgrimage from their assisted living facility in Connecticut to Jerusalem.

Small Black quickly follows its 2013 sophomore full-length, Limits of Desire, with the Real People EP. Guest artist Frankie Rose’s vocals blend into the tones of Small Black’s Josh Kolenik on the fizzing dance-pop title track, a strong starter to the EP.

“Mockingbird” sounds like the start of a bad joke that quickly turns into a Machiavellian morality tale.

Of the vista-scraping crowd gathered at the Farm Bureau Live amphitheater in Virginia Beach, it’s a safe bet that more than a few had seen Springsteen perform live, with or without The E Street Band, at least once.

I suspect there’s many an Anglophone listener for whom there’s always been something quintessentially “French” about Yann Tiersen. The Breton multi-instrumentalist’s brand of orchestral post-rock has haunted the peripheries of the alternative music zeitgeist since the days of Amélie, one of the most successful French cinematic exports of—well, perhaps ever—and a whiff of francité has long since trailed him.