What is music? When pondering archive releases, compilations and reissues the question doesn’t come up. Knowledge of context and history means there’s never a need to muse on this fundamental issue. A package, say, dedicated to Northern Soul says what it is and the prime considerations are how well it has been executed and defining its place in the relevant narrative. The same applies to anything previously covered in this column.

During the British Invasion years, a Cleveland, Ohio band called The Choir ploughed a Brit-focussed furrow from late 1964. Initially and tellingly, they were named The Mods. Their prime mover, Dann Klawon, was a subscriber the switched-on UK monthly Rave, had missed a Mods show to hitch-hike to a Rolling Stones concert and was the first Clevelander to own a copy of “Purple Haze”. His band became The Choir in 1966, played on Who and Yardbirds’ bills, and went through continuous line-up changes.

Kendrick Lamar has never been afraid to experiment. Since his first studio album, Section 80, was released in 2011, he’s explored funk, jazz, rock, soundtracks, ballads, and (of course) hip-hop, building himself a reputation based as much on his musical risks as his outspoken political views (as seen in the Black Lives Matter-orientated To Pimp A Butterfly, released to critical acclaim in 2015).

For Britain, 1965 began with The Beatles’ “I Feel Fine” at the top of the single’s chart. In December, the year bowed out with their double A-side “Day Tripper” / “We can Work it Out” in the same position. But 1965 was not just about The Beatles.

Texan trio Khruangbin are a rare concoction, psychedelic rockers, for sure, but seamed with all manner of global influences, notably Thai pop but also running the gamut from Latin sounds to Middle Eastern scaling. Hitting the UK in support of their second album, Con Todo El Mundo, they initially presented an aloof front, which was compromised briefly by a minor technical glitch.

This didn’t distract from the band’s striking retro-future aesthetic, especially bassist-singer Laura Lee, who wore a chic white leotard and red thigh-high boots like a supersonic empress from a kitsch old sci-fi film. The matching long black fringes of the two guitarists were also notably distinctive. The band’s overall look is glossy, yet not impersonal; guitarist Mark Speer wore a grey suit with white cowboy boots, undoubtedly a homage to his and the band’s Texan roots. A spirited crowd member shouted, “I love your shoes, man!”

It was interesting how, despite being a mostly instrumental band, the audience still sang along to the riffs. Khruangbin’s music manages to be very catchy without ever over-egging things. Songs such as “August Twelve” seemed to lull the audience into a low hum of accompaniment, the syncopation making the melodies even more charming and unique. “White Gloves”, their most popular track, and one of the few with lyrics, was serene and beautiful. I was struck by the playfulness of the band’s stage presence, adding a sense of flair with occasional teasing hip movements, or summoning each other across the stage with music.

“Evan Finds the Third Room”, from the new album, offered an unusual atmosphere, as the band play with lyrical form to create a captivating call-and-response between the two “not-vocalist” vocalists, bringing a gospel influence to light. There was a spoken word section which was particularly striking and funky. Laura Lee seemed a cold presence at first, but eventually her cold sheen dwindled, and she was smiling with the crowd. Apparently their first gig was in Bristol three years ago, when they released their first album, The Universe Smiles Upon You. Mark Speer toasted the crowd with a beer and agreed, “and it certainly does, Bristol”.

Khruangbin are born from all sorts of strange underground influences and offer a refreshing, unlaboured step out of the ordinary. Their effortless yet glossy stage presence seems likely to mean good things for the band’s future. They have already seen a dramatic rise in popularity over the past few months. Lurking beyond any definitive genre, they’re a tight instrumental unit, with memorable melodies, and the occasional glimmer of fearless and forward-thinking funk that, by the end of the night, left this capacity crowd sated.

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Overleaf: watch 54 minute Khruangbin Boiler Room live set

In 1976, when his first solo album Slippin’ Away was released, Chris Hillman could look back on being a founder member of The Byrds and The Flying Burrito Brothers, two of America’s most important bands. He had also played alongside former members of Buffalo Springfield in Manassas and The Souther-Hillman-Furay Band.

Kings of the South Seas first set sail back in 2014, with their debut album drawing on songs about South Pacific whalers. They are Ben Nicholls on concertina, banjo and fine, sonorous vocals, Spiritualized guitarist Richard Warren and drummer with the Neil Cowley Trio, Evan Jenkins.

Fresh from Celtic Connections in Glasgow, I’m With Her stepped out at Bush Hall in west London for their only England date before embarking on a major US tour. Sarah Jarosz, who plays guitar, banjo and mandolin, Aoife O’Donovan, guitar, and Sara Watkins, a mean fiddler, are being described as “a folk supergroup” – and seeing, and hearing, is indeed believing. It’s no hype: these three thirtysomething women, each with their own successful solo career, make a beautiful noise.

Vinyl matters. It matters to theartsdesk on Vinyl, clearly, as the name may hint. And it matters to many of you. But why? Why does it matter? We all have our own reasons for playing records, some practical, some sound-related, some personal, some ritualistic, some nostalgic, and many more that are harder to define.

“I’ve been labelled as an angry young man / Because I don’t fit into the master plan / Under society’s microscope / I look funny but it’s no joke.

I’m a social end product so don’t blame me / I’m a social end product of society / It’s not my fault that I don’t belong / It’s the world around me that’s gone all wrong.”