It's remarkable how purist a reenactment of three-decades-old LA hardcore this record is.

It's a sturdy set of mostly new material mixing Afrobeat and funk with traditional influences.

Ultimately, Looking 4 Myself reveals Usher as lost within the genre pick 'n' mix as he ever was; but inbetween its shortcomings, this seventh album sees him beaming proudly through a new and exciting sound.

It is one which doesn't so much shine, but glimmer with subtle brilliance all the way through.

On Shangri-La YACHT have proven that no matter what the concept is, it always comes down to the music.

A record that doesn't deviate from what the listener might have already expected from an artist might not sound like an engaging one, but Fields most certainly is.

An outstanding debut album that's been a long time coming.

Tatum has nevertheless produced an album that, despite its obvious glances back at the past, is smart, sophisticated and of its own pop moment.

Black Light, their sixth album, finds them enlarging their repertoire to relax into wider influences. In the absence of a frontman they are aging well.

Truly impressive, The Dø gracefully pull off the kind of intriguing "oddness" the likes of Florence Welch strain and wheeze for, and with better tunes.

Cole World reveals its maker to be a technically superb rapper with great production skills, albeit currently exploring rags-to-riches tales lacking in consistent vigour.

With its high-minded lyrical concerns, its family-sized choruses and its authors' buoyant pursuit of what, in lesser hands, could be a restrictive musical form, True North is a superior addition to Bad Religion's already towering body of work.

The resultant pieces feel so alive that you can almost sense the pressure of Frahm’s fingers alighting on each key as these solemn improvisations begin to weave their magic.

He’s come close to his aim of making this album more than a curiosity, but the real impact can surely only come from seeing his orchestrion in action.

Propellor Time is, in short, another fine Robyn Hitchcock album, proving that, almost 35 years into his recording career, his gift for crafting such perfectly-imperfect, winningly-askew pop as strong as ever.

Despite the array of producers lined up--Including Danja, Darkchild, Polow da Don and Swizz Beatz--Diddy has corralled their work into a tight, coherent whole that's absolutely packed with ideas and creativity.

With so much good here, it's foolish to dwell upon a few relative missteps.

It's deceptively powerful stuff.

Cancer Bats haven't lost their swagger or even their appeal, but this is uneasy listening in every sense.

With The Killer, Shed hasn't reinvented the wheel, but he has captivated us with his sonic mottle, daubed onto the classic edifice of techno's irresistible structures.

Stuck in a time warp they may be, but singer-guitarist Craig Fox, drummer Patrick Keeler and bassist Jack Lawrence (the latter pair better known as the rhythm section in Jack White's Raconteurs – Lawrence also plays with White in The Dead Weather), revel in their chosen genre with such mellifluous joie de vivre that it's hard to deny them their retrospective orientation.

On Old Yellow Moon, in that hokiest of country traditions--the boy/girl duet--an old alliance triumphs with charm.

To further the point, the album's 10 tracks total just 34 minutes, so listeners will snap out of the dream rather than disappear with it down a wormhole. But the blissful summery mood hangs around for ages. If you don't want summer to end, or you're a SAD sufferer, then consider Skit I Allt the best and cheapest antidote on the market.

Stelmanis, bassist Dorian Wolf and drummer Maya Postepski have created something that plays as a carefully balanced, organic whole, like an inadvertent concept album. That's more a testament to the skill with which it's been put together than because it lacks standout moments; in fact, half the songs here could be released as singles, as Austra are as melodic as they are melodramatic.

It's a union that just keeps on giving, with the steelier, more focused Hawk the best they've given yet.

It's a pleasant, head-nodding mood record which deftly pieces together a wash of sound; but the best moments are when there's a defining thread to follow.

An album to relax into, over weeks and months, this is one many will be coming back to whenever stress levels flit into the red.

He's a pop artist of substance, and as such brings a touch of class and sufficient flavour of another genre to the mainstream to make music that's interesting and lasting.