Plenty of musicians claim to heal. Few arrive with a Master's in jazz from Rome's Conservatorio Santa Cecilia, fifteen years restoring double basses, and the patience to build a seven-movement suite around the body's energy centres. Andrea Romanazzo, who records as Aner Andros, is one of the few. His debut is a serious, handsomely made piece of work. It asks to be heard from first bar to last, and it rewards anyone who obliges.

Solo piano records now arrive by the thousand, most of them built to sit politely behind a spreadsheet or a sleeping child. The default setting of the genre is a pleasant fog: a few unhurried chords, a wash of reverb, a title that hints at rain. Niel Lian's debut album declines the fog. It is quiet, and it keeps its voice low, but it wants to be listened to rather than tolerated. It repays that attention with something rarer than prettiness: the sense of a mind at work.

Milan gave him his hometown accent and London gave him his working hours, and somewhere between the two cities Richard Green has assembled a single that sounds less like a debut statement than the opening line of a much longer confession. "Age of Dreams" arrives as the first cut proper on *First Light*, the initial instalment of a three-part project that maps childhood, adulthood and legacy across three separate EPs — a structure so unfashionably ambitious it borders on the heroic. Pop music rarely bothers with trilogies any more; attention spans have shrunk to the length of a chorus hook, and here comes a composer asking us to sit through an entire human life in instalments. Credit where it's due: he's earned the right to ask.

Two decades into a career built almost entirely on stillness, Vidura Barrios has produced the record that finally explains what all that quiet was for. *CHANT!* arrives not as a departure but as a summation — the sound of a composer who has spent nearly twenty years circling the same sacred well finally drawing up the water in full.