Guitarist Stuart Braithwaite has certainly outstripped the generic post-rock style he helped to inspire, and does justice to some of his more direct influences--My Bloody Valentine's Kevin Shields and Robert Smith from The Cure, to name two. Extraneous touches, such as the occasional keyboard parts contributed by Barry Burns and the electronica-style glitches threaded through 2 Rights Make 1 Wrong, also ensure that Special Moves is a varied 75 minutes.

There's intelligence, individuality and character in abundance. But all too often it's caked in dollar-store body glitter and choked by feather boas.

While the sound of this Tennessee five-piece is hardly shimmering with originality, few have imitated those sunny falsettos and sweet'n'sad melodies quite so irresistibly.

This is intimacy on a purely aural level, the ultimate headphones album.

The Sword have stepped up a gear with this release, and ought to crumble the defences of more than a few cynics.

The same sort of eccentricity that sees Matt Bellamy pegged as a loveable boffin is well intact, but it's the sheer depth of the sound that drags you in like ultimate gravity. Also intact is their underlying pop instinct.

Lissie does not fully earn her an-artist-apart stripes with Catching a Tiger, but all the signs are here. Give the girl a second and she'll steal your heart; give her another album and she will, quite possibly, become untouchable.

Throughout there is an attention to detail, to little tics and tricks in the mix, that make this a treat for listeners who still wear headphones. But mostly it's music for defunct--or, rather, Defunkt--nightclubs.

There are more ideas here than many bands manage in their entire career, but in inimitable Maiden style, it's woven together beautifully.

The better songs here don't quite rescue the disc, but they do suggest that LaMontagne can step outside his comfort zone when he chooses to--it's just a shame how rarely that occurs.

The imaginative artwork, of a black and white keyboard splintering into different colours, emphasises the feel-good factor of this winning collection of songs and arrangements done with great style.

The arrangements are dense and intricate and, together, Chief make an accomplished, purposeful noise--but it's rarely matched by depth of melodic imagination. For a slow-burner, Modern Rituals needs a little more fire.

Eli's irrepressible personality shines through this varied and very appealing collection of songs, and tunes abound.

The clutch of songs performed by make-believe bands are complemented well by a supporting cast including Blood Red Shoes, The Rolling Stones, T. Rex and The Bluetones.

Nothing that features on Kaleide will come as a surprise to those familiar with Sky Larkin's debut, though it will please them.

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.

Even on a cursory listen, a water-testing foray into its 16 tracks, it's immediately apparent that this is an album unlike either that came before it.

The title-track is a prime example of the album's dominant pace: downbeat and sluggish.

Tribal contains 16 deeply detailed, fidgety tracks--but it's never hard work. It's a warm, gently funny album.

Transit Transit is full of the sort of implausible leaps of imagination that normally only happen in your sleep.

When Melua reveals this sensitive side she's amongst the best artists in her easy-on-the-ear field, and she could yet surpass several of her own idols. But The House contains enough forgettable filler to suggest she's some way off delivering a career-defining canon classic.

King of the Beach offers a fascinating insight into the slightly skew-whiff mind of this talented young artist, now well on the way to mastering what could turn out to be an incredibly inventive career.

For any bootlegging rappers with cerebral ambitions, this could represent the greatest thinking man's beat tape of all time. To mere listeners, it's an enveloping temporary distraction, more than fulfilling its purpose of whetting anticipation for El-P's mic-wielding return.

Anyone who has enjoyed the Crowes' live show will find it a veritable trove of delights.

Although fourth album Mines, released three years after its predecessor, retains Menomena's trademark virtuosity in production, here the band's complex, monolithic sonic structures are supported by a consistent emotional foundation that elevates the songs to new heights.

It's a gauche mix of church and the rock'n'roll chestnuts he grew up on. Outside Robert Plant, it's hard to see who it'll appeal to.

Best Coast's music wishes for that innocence – for when a pop song could sum up your whole torment in three perfect minutes, before your heart truly gets broken that first time – and successfully evokes it with Crazy for You's immediate classic-pop hits.

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.