So, with the iPod loaded with new albums, I’ve been trying as hard as I can to find some new music I like. And I’ve been mostly unsuccessful. For one thing, too many of the new bands that are critics’ darlings, from The Foals to Vampire Weekend, sound to my ears like they’ve played the first Talking Heads album too many times, yet none of them manage to come up with anything that approaches Psycho Killer.

And I had high hopes for the new one, Red, from the Guillemots because I played the hell out of their first one. But, one or two good tunes aside, Red is such a blood-splattered mess, I get the feeling that if I looked up the term ‘sophomore slump’ in Wikipedia, I’d see a picture of its supremely silly cover art – a big ball of red yarn in a tunnel, from what I can tell. The Last Shadow Puppets, a side project from the leader of the Arctic Monkeys, has some possibilities – I like the overall sound but so far no one song is leaping out and grabbing me by the throat screaming, “I’m so great you’re going to be listening to me for the next 20 years!”

So, dozens of albums have been deleted off the iPod after just a couple of listens, replaced by older favourites. In particular, lots of reissues, the so-called ‘Deluxe Editions’ and ‘Collector’s Editions’. These usually remaster the sound of original albums, and then add on a second disc of outtakes, alternate mixes or live versions. (And sometimes even a third disc, most often a DVD.) Very little of the bonus stuff would qualify as essential listening for anyone but the most rabid fan.

At my most cynical, I’d say these were invented because the only thing record companies know for sure you like is something you have already bought, so they come up with these ostensibly creative ways to get you to buy the same stuff a second time. However, it could also be said these reissues serve the purpose of getting good older albums out of the bargain bins and into the front display sections of shops, or even into shops not interested in selling anything other than current releases.

While one could also say these reissues are a way to get a new generation to notice something vaguely older and ‘classic’, it’s also worth noting that the big three of the rock era – The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan – have never gone this route. Their albums continue to sell well just as they are and there is no need to goose the catalogue by tossing in bonus tracks of the artists doing the same songs out of key. There have been sonic upgrades over earlier releases but never a two-disc deluxe edition of Abbey Road. And one could argue there doesn’t need to be. It’s almost a perfect album and 99.73% of the listening public has little or no desire to hear alternate versions that shed minimal light on creative decisions made while the album was being recorded and mixed.

Of course, not every group is The Beatles, and not everyone’s back catalogue continues to move significant numbers year after year, decades after the original release. So the record companies need these special editions to get things going again. The problem for the fan is that these ‘ultimate editions’ prove not so ultimate when, after a short time, the third or fourth reissue comes out.

One example of this is Elvis Costello’s back catalogue. Unquestionably the most consistently intelligent songwriter to come out of the UK in the ’70s, he owns his recordings and so every time he switches labels, his back catalogue moves with him. At the turn of the century, Rhino and Edsel did extensive remastering and reissued each of his albums as a double set with bonus tracks. 1978’s essential This Year’s Model featured 12 tracks that represented B-sides of singles, demos and alternate versions. In 2008, Costello is now represented by the Universal Music Group and last year’s model of This Year’s Model is now obsolete. The latest release features only 10 bonus tracks on the first disc, one of which wasn’t on the last reissue. And it has a second disc featuring an entire live concert from 1978. Yeah, it’s all well and good – but I can’t get rid of my 2001 version because it’s got three songs not on the 2008 version.

And then there is The La’s. Their splendid 1990 album of Britpop, strongly influenced by early ’60’s Merseybeat, features all-time classic There She Goes and was reissued in 2001 with five extra songs. The same year saw the release of Lost La’s, featuring eight early studio tracks as well as six live songs (recorded on a Walkman). Seven years later we are greeted with the deluxe edition of their one album. The 13 bonus tracks here are almost completely different from the earlier bonus tracks. And the big draw – an earlier version of the entire album completed by a different producer – was remastered from a cassette because the original multi-tracks were destroyed. It may be deemed a kind of Holy Grail for fans of a group that most of the world remembers as a one-hit wonder, but it’s sonically awful and sounds vastly inferior to the official version. And so this gets filed away, but the two older CDs need to remain as well.

Love’s Forever Changes is about to undergo a similar transformation. The original CD sounded like manure, the 2001 reissue fixed the sound slightly and had seven bonus tracks that I never bothered with. And now we’re about to get a two-disc version that promises yet another sonic upgrade along with 21 extra tracks, including an alternate mix of the entire album. But I think that annoying distortion in the middle of You Set the Scene will still be there. And they’ve probably held back three songs for the next reissue in 2015.

One album I didn’t buy the first time around was Strangers Almanac, the second album by a band called Whiskeytown. This 1997 alt-country album is not one that would normally get placed within the rock pantheon, but it is quite good. Whiskeytown, of course, was led by a young Ryan Adams. Adams is a gifted songwriter and his talents are fully evident in this album, even if he has only occasionally lived up to his early promise. He’s also almost ludicrously prolific and the 26 extra tracks here not only include live band performances and early solo versions of key tracks but also a host of songs that didn’t make it onto the final record – some with good reason as they’re simply not as good, but a few gems are hidden in the mix. Among the oddball selection of covers is one Gram Parsons song (and, as good as Ryan is, he’s still no Gram Parsons) as well as a Stevie Nicks cover that clearly exceeds Adams’ vocal range. I think this is a must-have for any Ryan Adams fan.

There are so many of these out there and more coming every week. Few are essential, especially if you already own the album in question in some other version. Sonic upgrades mean little in an age when most people are listening to 128kbps MP3s. The bonus tracks are meant only for deranged collectors like me. Of course, Hong Kong is filled with deranged collectors, but the type who line up for fast-food chain giveaways and Hello Kitty syringes, not slip-cased editions of albums from Free, The Orb or Hawkwind. But, in the case of the latter type of collector, can anyone truly say they’re wrong?