Talk about your long gestation periods – The Opiates, the third and final album from Swedish collective Anywhen – was originally recorded in 2001, and subject to an extremely limited release in February of that year.

So why are we mentioning it now? Well, The Opiates has aged sufficently enough to reach ‘lost classic’ status, and – following a rediscovery by ex-Japan mastermind David Sylvian – is all set for an updated and expanded re-release, courtesy of some reworking by vocalist Thomas Feiner.

Please. Stay where you are. We know the connotations that the term ‘lost classic’ has – you probably can’t help thinking of some scratchy Bob Dylan bootleg heralded as ‘the ultimate live experience’ or thirty-seven minutes of Syd Barrett farting that some wag has labelled ‘a transcendent psychedelic journey lost for several decades’.

The thing is: The Opiates actually deserves the revival. Is it a ‘classic’? Who knows? Such terms are so vague as to be infuriating anyway. Let hecklerspray tell you what The Opiates is, then: it’s a dark, epic, grandiose and orchestral collection of songs that will strike a chord with anyone who’s a fan of Tindersticks, Nick Cave, Scott Walker or even the solo work of Sylvian himself.

Bizarrely – for an album whose original recording has just passed its seventh birthday – something like The Opiates couldn’t be better timed. In an era of Doherty-influenced haircut-rock bands (admit it, people: The Libertines just weren’t very good) a sweeping overblown record like this feels like a conscious kickback to an irony-heavy, diluted modern era.

Make no mistake: The Opiates doesn’t do things by halves. Strings build and vocals yearn. If you want a soundtrack for summer-day strutting, you’d better look elsewhere. If you want a slow-burning, carefully-structured and altogether cinematic album that may or may not sound better after a few glasses of wine and some ‘special’ cigarettes, The Opiates has your number, baby. Play it on rotation with Isobel Campbell And Mark Lanegan’s Sunday At Devil Dirt – another contender for Album Of The Year thus far – and don’t be surprised if you start eschewing the sunshine in favour of turning into a brooding character from a Godard movie.

If that sounds good to you, check it out.

The Opiates is released via Samadhisound in the UK on July 7th and the US on July 29th.

If you know Tindersticks, you’ll be more than familiar with the world they inhabit.

It’s a sonic landscape of occasional desolation, soothing melancholy and introspective melody, all hazed out through a 3am red-wine-and-cigarettes blurry filter. In short: if you’re looking for an album to soundtrack the million-plus hours of GTA IV rampages you’re going to be enjoying from Tuesday, you need to search elsewhere.

If, however, you’re looking for a haunting, swelling, oddly fitting mixture of the stripped-back and the orchestral, then The Hungry Saw – Tindersticks’ first album since 2003′s Waiting For The Moon, and the seventh in their catalogue so far – may just float your boat nicely.

First things first: there’s no denying that Stuart Staples’ vocals are a divisive force. Like Morrissey before him, he’s the sort of frontman who’ll either have you hanging on his every nuance or gnashing your teeth in frustration. Yet chances are – even if you’re not too keen at first – you’ll be able to acclimatise yourself to his purring slur and enjoy the musical background that accompanies it.

And you know what? It’s a great background. For something so ostensibly laid back and unhurried, it’s remarkable to hear that the bulk of the The Hungry Saw was laid down in a frenzied eight-day recording session. It’s a whirlwind creation that isn’t reflected at all in the sound – from the sparse instrumental that kicks off the album to sweeping high point The Other Side Of The World, this feels like it was a laboured five years in the making. Not that that’s a bad thing.

If hecklerspray is making this sound like some self-obsessed dark-night-of-the-soul scenario, we apologise. There’s a lot of humour and playfulness on The Hungry Saw, with deadpan musings settling alongside emotional and thought-provoking ones. There’s also a plethora of influences that fuse their way into the Tindersticks sound – from the demeanour of the modern Joy Division revivalists to the Mormon acoustics of Low to more interesting elements going on in the American Alt-Country scene.

If you’re arriving fresh to the band, don’t expect instant reward. Yet give The Hungry Saw your time and – more importantly – your attention, and we’re willing to bet it’ll win you over.

The Hungry Saw is released today on Beggars Banquet.