Dazzling.

It’s accomplished, mixing studied nostalgia with current concerns, but not a standout in its field.

This feels like an album by, for and about himself.

A great fifth album from the Wu-Tang rapper, but not quite another catalogue classic.

Judged objectively, Minotaur is a good if somewhat slight record, with enough quality to comfortably surpass most music likely to be released this year. But when compared to The Clientele's previous work, this is one for the completists rather than an essential purchase.

This is an impressive debut and a solid step toward a more realised identity.

Beside Putrifiers II's guitar-fuelled thrills are a number of moments that find Thee Oh See's catching their winklepinkers on the pavement as they attempt to side step into more experimental, psychedelic territory.

Every Step's a Yes is a worthy partner to [Best Coast, Beach House and Wild Nothing's] records.

With the ceaselessly inventive, engagingly cocksure 180, Palma Violets have given themselves a base to build a career, should they be in it for the long haul.

It's a contented celebration of success with weed as the indisputable toasting substance of choice. The sound is bigger, with more detail, exhibiting more confidence to experiment.

The ballads don't quite work--I'm Not Blue and Russell's Ain't You Even Gonna Cry sound detached and forced, more like excerpts from a musical than songs in their own right. On the more upbeat numbers, though, she's terrific.

Alessi's Ark carries its ideas two-by-two, sails well above the current flood of increasingly desperate folk wannabes, and weaves a modest magic that is hard to pinpoint, yet even harder to resist. If Time Travel isn't quite a classic, it does enough to suggest that this 20-year-old has one in her Davy Jones' Locker.

It's full of the kind of heavy textures and atmospheric nuances that explain exactly why Johnson is also a movie soundtrack composer of increasing repute.

Thea Gilmore's take on John Wesley Harding is a worthy tribute to that great album--and with a playing time of 42.23, it even gives you an extra four minutes more than the original.

James Murphy's (of LCD Soundsystem) decision to sign this shape-shifting creature to DFA Records makes perfect sense given her blend of art, electronics and mischievous humour, and while it's an undeniably alien world Rostron inhabits, it's an altogether convincing one.

There's still the charm and energy and all the qualities that made us fall in love with The Go! Team in the first place. But it's like a child who's recently learned one song: cute the first few times, but even the most lovable things eventually get tiresome.

Improving prospects aside, though, the basic deal is the same, and Cloud Nothings rattles along at a fair old clip, boasting an embarrassment of hooks delivered with unassuming, 'it's-probably-nothing-but' panache.

This is the sound of sun-stunned drift, as opposed to slacker ennui. Such a formula could make for an enervating listen, but this debut album is shot through with casually glorious melodies.

A compact and incredibly gratifying introduction to a new lo-fi talent.

This set is a welcome throwback to simpler, gentler times.

Hull is a fine lyricist, able to make everyday ruminations on relationships utterly riveting. But he's not consistently complemented by music that really matters, a couple of relatively perfunctory arrangements ensuring that Simple Math is no High Violet-matching masterpiece.

Despite being a guitarist down (Bill Ryder-Jones departed after Roots and Echoes), they've regrouped admirably and made a comeback record that strives for, and indeed almost reaches, the dizzying heights of 2002's self-titled debut.

His relaxed intonation shows a talent that doesn't need to be stretched to the limit to produce its best work.

It's a complex, winding late-night soundtrack that doesn't move too fast, but never stops to question the judgement of its own unique outsider logic.

At times, Spektor can be too cutesy... More often though, her little idiosyncrasies are charming.

Bubblegum is Clinic at their most approachable and, importantly, shows them to be sharp and direct in their more affecting statements.

If a little dominated by this trio [Champagne Life, One in a Million, Beautiful Monster] the rest of the album also develops the cool soul player theme nicely, with offers of mind sex and a considered approach in slick fusion.

If their debut sounded like they listened to nothing but the sounds in their heads and tried to recreate them, this sounds like all they've listened to over the past two years is their own records, and subsequently tried to better them. They've succeeded.