Caminiti seems fully aware of the perils and pitfalls of the nu-new age, thwarting any such comparisons by rousing his near-ambient flows with radiant beams of six-string sustain.

With a wealth of subtle and understated performances by the supporting cast, including wistful flourishes from pianist Geraint Watkins, whose on-the-money keyboards have graced albums by Nick Lowe and Van Morrison, this is no unthinking pastiche or smirking parody.

If there are discernible musical differences, it’s that there’s a little more clarity and slightly less reliance on the fuzz pedals.

The pleasure in Beirut's music has always largely been in what it evokes – a kind of melancholy tempered with optimism and sometimes celebration. And it evokes marvellously here: whatever current Condon found himself caught up in that led to the creation of these songs, it's one you feel he's happy to coast a while yet.

Spirit Fiction is jazz the way it's supposed to be: cool, chaotic, and unassuming. It's good music for the sake of good music.

While Major plays up to the strengths of its predecessor, it also showcases vocal development and keeps the familiar listener guessing.

The Winter of Mixed Drinks is more polished, more polite than the band’s earlier offerings, but it’s reassuring to note that the band’s scruffy-hearted charm still lies just below the surface.

Fly Zone is streamlined, its production consistently excellent despite numerous contributors.

It's the sheer intensity of the whole package that seduces.

This is grown-up, frequently gorgeous music that epitomises the very best in neo-soul.

It’s a stunning, genre-transcending record that should appeal as much to fans of the esoteric, fuzzbox-psychedelia unearthed by Andy Votel and the Finders Keepers label as it will those fond of dubstep, the spliff-frazzled paranoia of trip hop, J Dilla’s vision of cerebral, emotionally rich hip hop, the head-in-the-clouds acid folk of Marc Bolan’s Tyrannosaurus Rex and dust-blown, voodoo-tweaked blues.

An extraordinary and stylish album.

Sharp, disciplined, and seriously compelling.

The new sound features a dense, Dave Fridmann-like production: pumping, parping, squelching sounds familiar to those from The Flaming Lips, or MGMT, but rarely coupled to such strong hooks, or vocal performances, by either.

As a whole, Revelation Road is the closest Lynne has got to where she should always have been, even if she mightn't stay here long.

Ring was inspired by the symmetrical order outlined in Homer's poem Odyssey, the idea that any structure doesn't necessarily have to abide by a beginning, middle or end. Presumably this is why when succulent-lullaby Clamour completes the cycle you'll want to return to the start once more.

If you love synth-pop's romantic attachment to a grand, bleak, European aesthetic, then this is the Best Of for you.

While not exactly standing alongside their best in terms of outright quality, shows that even Elbow's 'hidden' past is worthy of deeper exploration.

Once you manage to pull away from Bloom's magnified scenery and consider the record as a whole it's difficult to think of it as anything other than its makers' best work so far.

On the strength of this richly felt, richly imagined album, though, lack of love needn't concern Hoop.

The type of punch Metronomy now pack is differently varied, and instead of relying on catchy melodies, its excitement and originality is now more broadly sourced.

Now we're meeting a new side of the veteran guitar god – a gentle, delicate and altogether more acoustic Mascis.

Phosphorescent's contribution to the new-folk cannon is an impressive and rather lovely addition.

Uncomplicated, subtle but memorable songwriting that might well have been played and recorded in a bedroom studio on Holloway Road.

Everything is meticulous, not a note out of place--but this studied delivery is successfully supplemented with resounding soul, proving infectious indeed.

It might not encourage repeat plays, but to dismiss it as a racket is to do it, and its maker, a huge disservice.

It assures us all that Meshuggah can still bury their copyists while leading the way when it comes to intelligent, thoughtful and undeniably brutal heavy metal.

Sure, it's a little disjointed, a little indulgent, but when Boxcutter's best beats connect with welcoming synapses, the effect is like mainlining fizzy pop on a summer's day: brilliant, bright, jumpy and jovial.