The one thing that everyone agrees on in this US documentary about independent record stores is that they are, basically, just places to sell music. But no one would ever state that's all they are. They are hassle-free places to hang out, to talk rubbish fearlessly, to argue loudly without being asked to move on, to form bands, to see bands, to hand out flyers – even to not buy music. Indie record shops have something the major chains will never replicate no matter how many surveys and spreadsheets they employ: they are cool. Here, customers and workers alike tell tales of arriving before opening hours, of discovering some classic tucked away, of being recommended a life-changing album, of learning they are not the only one in a 1,000-mile radius who likes Minor Threat. This may get more than a little rose-tinted at times, but do you really think that people will get as misty-eyed about making their music choices via the click of a mouse or from the limited choice of CDs at the supermarket checkout? Hell, no. It's a very well assembled documentary, but the two hours-plus of single-shot, raw interview footage in the extras is what seals the deal.

Without the graphics, stats and soundbite punchiness, you get some great, long chunks of interviewees just talking, with notables Glenn Branca (pictured), Lenny Kaye and Thurston Moore giving fascinating personal details. While the movie itself raises important and sobering points that could apply to comic stores or any independent retail outlet under threat of extinction, the additional footage is all about the music, man.While more TV channels does mean greater choice, it also means there's a greater chance to miss programmes like France's Spiral. A hit in its native country, this cop show was screened here with zero fuss on BBC4 but highly rated by those who managed to see it, so it may find more success on DVD – a two-season package as good as, if not better than, anything US or UK telly has produced. Ask a French person about Spiral and they'll probably look puzzled: a more accurate translation of its original title, Engrenages, is "gears", which suits a show about the mechanics of police investigation and judicial procedure. Both eight-part stories begin with the discovery of a brutally murdered corpse, only to spin off into dozens of subplots involving all strata of society, played by a large cast with such standouts as Caroline Proust's tenacious cop and Audrey Fleurot's unscrupulous lawyer. These lively, unpredictable characters continually cross the lines between good and bad, but you're here to observe and learn from them, not to make friends. Very French, that.