In the early-to-mid 1970s, with a string of hit songs covered by The Carpenters, Helen Reddy, Three Dog Night and Barbra Streisand, songwriter Paul Williams was the Diane Warren of the era. Not entirely faceless or anonymous, Williams, who could be found acting in movies such as The Loved One, Battle for the Planet of the Apes and Phantom of the Paradise (directed by Brian DePalma), also recorded his own renditions of many of his popular tunes.

In fact, the prolific Williams even released two albums in the same year (1971) on two different record labels. One of those albums, Someday Man (Collectors’ Choice Music) has been reissued on CD. Like some of the other songwriters of the era, Williams is a better composer than performer, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth hearing him interpret his own creations. Unlike Just An Old Fashioned Love Song, the other album Williams released at the same time, Someday Man doesn’t contain any of his huge hits, but it does capture the era perfectly and is noteworthy for giving the listener a feeling of nostalgia, even if they weren’t yet born.

The reissue of The Holy Mackerel’s self-titled album, also on Collectors’ Choice Music, provides listeners with another glimpse into the early inner workings of Paul Williams, as it was a band in which he performed with his brother and others.

By the mid-to-late 1970s, Paul Williams’ flame didn’t burn near as brightly as Elvis Costello’s, who had become one of the most acclaimed singer/songwriters of the period. Costello’s songs had even begun to be performed by high-profile artists such as Linda Ronstadt, who recorded “Allison,” “Girls Talk,” “Party Girl” and “Talking In The Dark.” After beginning the 1980s on the high notes of Trust and Imperial Bedroom, Costello stumbled a bit, but brilliantly regained his composure for the 1986 double whammy of Blood & Chocolate and King of America. Blood & Chocolate was reissued in an expanded edition a couple of years ago and now, finally, King Of America (Rhino), credited to The Costello Show, has also received the same treatment. Disc one of the double disc set is bracketed by two of Costello’s finest compositions, “Brilliant Mistake” and the stunning “Sleep Of The Just.” In between, masterpieces such as “Our Little Angel” (later covered by Rosanne Cash), “Indoor Fireworks,” “Little Palaces,” “American Without Tears,” “Jack Of All Parades” and “Suit of Lights” are the reasons this album ranks as one of Costello’s best. The bonus disc features solo demos, live tracks and others.

The late model-handsome Robert Palmer released his first album in the mid-1970s and went on to achieve his greatest success in the late ’70s and early ’80s, making him a contemporary of both Williams and Costello. In the mid-1980s, more than 10 years into his solo career, Palmer teamed up with two-fifths of Duran Duran (John Taylor and Andy Taylor), the late Tony Thompson (formerly of Chic) and recorded an album under the guidance of the late Bernard Edwards (also formerly of Chic). The reissued and expanded self-titled album, on EMI, bears little resemblance to the sum of the band’s parts, which might be why it caught on with listeners. It rocked hard, from the original “Some Like It Hot” to the cover of T. Rex’s “Get It On (Bang A Gong),” and the band emerged as one of the super-groups of the period. In addition to seven bonus tracks, the reissue features a DVD consisting of music videos, interview and studio footage.

I came to The Undertones late, via ex-lead singer Feargal Sharkey’s mid-’80s solo debut disc, which still ranks as one of my favorites. Considerably after the fact, I sought out an Undertones compilation and liked what I heard. With the expanded reissues of The Undertones self-titled debut, Hypnotised and Positive Touch (all on Castle/Sanctuary), we now have the chance to hear songs such as “Teenage Kicks,” “Family Entertainment,” “Girls Don’t Like It,” “Male Model,” “More Songs About Chocolate and Girls,” “Wednesday Week,” “It’s Going To Happen” and many others in their original context.

Formed in 1976, the same year as The Undertones, The Cure built up a loyal following at home and in the states, long before their 1985 commercial breakthrough album The Head on the Door. Following quickly behind the expanded reissue of The Cure’s debut album Three Imaginary Boys, we now have 1980’s Seventeen Seconds (containing “A Forest”), 1981s Faith (containing “Primary” and “Other Voices,” as well as “Charlotte Sometimes” on the bonus disc) and 1982’s Pornography (which contains “The Hanging Garden”), all of which are on Fiction/Elektra/Rhino. In addition to watching the transformation of Robert Smith’s hair and appearance, listeners can also hear the band finding its identity, making listening to these an eye-opening experience whether or not your eyes are outlined in black eyeliner.

The solo albums by debonair and handsome Roxy Music lead singer Bryan Ferry often sound like an extension of what he was doing with his band and vice versa. That is an especially good thing in regards to his superb 1985 album Boys and Girls (Virgin), which has just been reissued in the SACD (Super Audio Compact Disc) format. Coming as it did just a few years after Roxy Music’s career highpoint with the flawless Avalon, Boys and Girls has a similarly sumptuous quality that is most prevalent on “Slave To Love,” “Don’t Stop The Dance,” “Windswept,” “The Chosen One,” “Stone Woman” and the title track, all of which sound particularly lush in this enhanced edition.

Just before sitting down to listen to and review the expanded reissue of Back Home Again (RCA/Legacy), John Denver’s best-selling classic 1974 album, I was listening to Georgia Hard by insurgent country hero Robbie Fulks, and I marveled at how far we’ve come when it comes to country music, and also how much things have stayed the same. One of the driving forces of the Fulks disc is the sense of humor that he brings to the work, and when listening to the Denver disc, I was reminded that a sense of humor could be found there as well, amidst more serious numbers such as the title track, “Annie’s Song,” and “Matthew” and “Sweet Surrender.” The front-porch stomp of “Grandma’s Feather Bed” and, of course, Denver’s thigh-slapping mega-hit cover of “Thank God I’m A Country Boy,” still have the power to bring smiles to listeners.

Push Barman To Open Old Wounds (Matador) is a wonderful double-disc set that compiles Belle And Sebastian’s Jeepster EPs of non-LP singles dating from 1997’s Dog On Wheels through 2001’s I’m Waking Up To Us. It’s a delight to have all of these songs under one cover, and listening to them presented this way gives each one a new life. Highlights include guest vocalist Monica Queen’s scene-stealing performance on “Lazy Line Painter Jane,” the chamber pop gone techno of “You Made Me Forget My Dreams,” the spoken narration of “A Century of Elvis,” the queer sensibility of “Photo Jenny,” the garage rock echoes of “Le Pastie De La Bourgeoisie,” the soft-shoe-gazer pose of “This Is Just A Modern Rock Song,” the psychedelic “Legal Man,” the instrumental “Judy Is A Dick Slap,” the Old Testament references in “Jonathan David,” the sumptuous strings on “Take Your Carriage Clock and Shove It” and the retro ’60s drama of “I’m Waking Up To Us.” While you’re binging on the music of Belle and Sebastian, be sure to pick up Paul Whitelaw’s Belle and Sebastian: Just A Modern Rock Story (St. Martin’s Griffin, 2005 $16.95), a detailed band biography that sets us straight about front-man Stuart Murdoch’s sexuality, and that of his younger brother, Fraser, who “came out” in the song “The State I Am In.”

As utterly – and I would imagine unintentionally – campy an album as you might guess, Yummy, Yummy, Yummy (Collectors’ Choice Music), the reissue of ’50s sex-kitten siren Julie London’s 1969 album on which she covers some groovy late-’60s tunes is a tasty treat indeed. Most surprising are the late London’s successful (and somewhat less silly) readings of songs by Laura Nyro (“Stoned Soul Picnic,” on which she sounds, well, kind of stoned), Spanky & Our Gang’s “Like To Get To Know You,” The Doors’ “Light My Fire,” which almost smolders, and “Hushabye Mountain” (from the movie “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”). The best moment here is London’s effective rendition of The Beatles’ “And I Love Him,” which surpasses her confused interpretation of Nilsson’s “Without Him” and the laughable title track.