There are moments where Total does come close to a Daft Punk pastiche. But these are few and far between, and there's plenty enough of Sebastian's own character on show to make this one of the most enjoyable dance albums of 2011 so far.

This album is paced like a perfect DJ set--it reads the listener with incredible insight, combining the immediate and familiar with intense passages of warm-up, breaking to allow for moments of blank space and reflection.

As it stands, Green has moved forward--or at least sideways--with each of his three City and Colour albums. But all in all, it's difficult to call Little Hell anything much more than nice.

With the exception of the always inventive playing of guitarist Wes Borland, here Limp Bizkit sound like a band whose time has passed. Given that this is a group that boorishly exemplified the empty materialism and crass self-centredness that lurked at nu-metal's core, this is surely no bad thing.

Whatever your take on the chillwave phenomenon--that brand of overexposed, Polaroid pop mining childhood memories kick-started (arguably) by Animal Collective's influential album Merriweather Post Pavilion--it's a conversation that's happened, and Equatorial Ultravox does little to further the debate.

It's the contrast between these points--the brilliantly familiar and the boldly flawed--that ensures I Love You, Dude stays on the right side of lazy revivalism.

If there's a case to be made for formulating something serious out of classic pop and old-time hokum, Welch and Rawlings make it as well as anybody. So while just a bit of drums and bass would probably have broadened the record's appeal, we must give thanks for this stubborn duo's independence of mind.

At times The Light of the Sun veers towards self-indulgence, and some of its ideas are not fully followed through. On the whole, however, it is a rather lovely, emotional album that provides a beguiling snapshot of the current life of Jill Scott.

These flashes of stylistic innovation are rare. For the most part, it's all supremely controlled, sweetly inoffensive and velvety smooth.

Outside is a celebration of his recovery--a great album on its own terms, and truly remarkable given how close it presumably came to never being made.

At their most stripped-back, Woods have always been arresting – but here they realize some of their most beautiful work yet.

Ontario's Junior Boys have been charming us with their soulful brand of electro-pop for a good few years now, but they've never sounded as much fun as they do on new album It's All True.

Time will tell, but this opening salvo will certainly leave you pumped up for further Foster kicks.

Beyoncé slips from flirty to fragile to fabulous, and is in terrific voice throughout, reminding us that when she opens up there's no-one else in the game.

If you can be persuaded to root around for long enough you might occasionally bump into the odd moment that made Thee Oh Sees' brilliant Help album of 2009, or 2010's lopsided Warm Slime, so enjoyable – slapdash songwriting, slovenly hooks and prurient flights of fancy.

Black Up is far from a fuzzy, unfocused indie-rap document. Butler's rhymes remain lyrical and tight, musing on desire and motivation, artistic freedom and Afro-American identity, in a way that should appeal to the Talib Kweli fans out there.

These sharply-targeted psychedelic guitar eruptions are well-contained, and always tantalisingly brief.

Despite the echoes of their past on this second long-play set, Digitalism's perfectly timed return is more about fondness than contempt.

The ideal album to soundtrack wistful contemplation on balmy summer days.

One of 2011's most absorbing, affecting and downright brilliant LPs.

There's still only one Stevie Nicks – witchy, mystical and romantic.

Old Dog New Tricks is hardly an overhaul--the likes of Don't Know Why She Love Me but She Do ensures there's plenty here for adherents to the tried and true. But it's clear that this old dog is stretching his legs more than on any previous album.

Mirror Mirror is not obvious instant success. But given time, as with the best records, it reveals a wonderfully stark energy; all sinewy shadowplay, stripped-back space and a compelling sexuality.

While it might not find itself a massive audience, fans of earthy, charismatic Americana might do well to seek it out for themselves.

Go Now and Live is a measured and accomplished collection of songs--songs which work together as an album as well as they do individually.

The band either demonstrates a glorious and steadfast refusal to grow up, or become possessed by yelps that no amount of Auto-Tune could ever fix.

If you are looking for a quick musical fix, Art Department may burn too slowly for you. But if nine-minute deep house edits infected by the spirit of Larry Levan, Virgo and Basic Channel are your bag, then you'll not be straying too far from the gaze of the mistress you call house music.

The major achievement of this record--produced by Slipknot desk-jockey Ross Robinson--is the broadening of Dananananaykroyd's sound, prising it clear of the numerous shouty young bands to have followed their lead.