This is a perfect, 30-minute, 10-song album that demands to be treated as one long symphonic pop masterpiece.

Thanks to her breezy bohemian charms, even its knottier moments start to unravel with repeated listens.

By bypassing the commonplace put-downs of peers and proffering a very British take on pop-flavoured rap, is an accomplished and infectious introduction to some rightly rising talents.

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

For metalheads who like their music sharp and executed without recourse to compromise, then this is a contender for genre album of the year.

The surprise excellence of the songs and the music makes this the long-overdue fourth great Magazine album.

It meets expectations, and while surpassing them is something achieved only occasionally, this is a record that well complements a no-work state of mind.

The problem with The Fall in 2011 is straightforward, really. The band isn't very good. Or, to put it another way, they are very slick and versatile rock musicians, but they have absolutely no sound of their own.

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

A depressingly compromised second LP from an artist yet to meet his early promise.

The production might be slick, but James relaxes into this framework, providing the necessary lived-in looseness.

It's actually on the brighter, bolder, faster numbers that Take Care comes alive.

As step forwards (via looking backwards) go, it's brave and for the most part it works.

The album only really reaches the heights Bush has set for herself when she appears centre stage.

Whatever the inspiration, everything adds up to 29 minutes that pack in more truth and melodies than many records twice as long. Terrific stuff from a songwriter of any age.

While it won't please those expecting a selection of aggressive dubstep workouts, Severant is a stunning debut that gives up more secrets with every listen.

The exceptional musicianship and impeccable vocals may not be to everyone's taste, but for 40 very happy minutes, you can revel in SJDK's very discrete world.

Get these cuts [I'll Never Let Go and Called Out In The Dark] out of the way, though, and Fallen Empires settles down and improves.

It attempts to create a context of isolation from all that, an aquarium-like zone of contemplation, in which audiovisual detail can be savoured, in stillness and without fear of missing out for a few seconds on the relentless info-stream of modern life.

The three new songs tacked on at the end are indicative of their latter day torpor: hardly awful, but hardly memorable either; just three middle-aged millionaires going through the motions. But remember them as they were during the majority of this fine collection.

Maturity and sonic streamlining hasn't removed the essence of what gave them their cult following.

For a record that could've gone in one of two directions, it manages the neat trick of going in both.

This laidback attitude--and the audacious quality of the songs that seem to find him with such ease--is the key to much of his abundant charm, and even working at half-speed he delivers.

Veirs' offering has a lustre and sleepy delightfulness that owes much to her lilting charm of her voice and her ear for a sublime melody.

It is both a captivating listen and a terrifying one: Powers was 22 this year, but his voice carries all the experience of a man thrice his age.

The Devil's Rain, then, is a slightly mixed bag of tricks, treats and travesties.

It's not simply a retrospective affair, but a calling card illustrating why this beat-maker wears a crown on his album cover.

This is an intriguing diversion for the veteran filmmaker--not quite good enough to make us want him to give up cinema for keeps, but certainly a new strand to his unique, ineffable vision.