When she turns from fathoming everyone else's existence to her own, and stops frantically waving her style icon credentials, the genius of hers and Mirwais' partnership is overwhelming.

If you're a fan, there's enough of what you expect from the Mac here not to disappoint.

This minor masterpiece of an album is nothing less than a precision exercise in deconstructed songwriting.

Though Manitoba's constructions are joyously slap-dash and defiantly experimental, he still manages to lure the listener in with woozy melodies and strangely beguiling textures.

'Elephant' is already this year's most crucial purchase.

Few debuts are as intriguingly addictive, physically compelling or effortlessly hip as this.

Sound-wise, 'Sleeping With Ghosts' is pretty much flawless.

Musically and vocally, there's few surprises but at least lyrically he's moved on from clever-ish wordplay and inane love songs, to tell tales of being generally screwed-up at the hands of the multi-million dollar pop machine.

Miraculously, given the similarity of the design, 'Meteora' avoids being a stagnant retread of 'Hybrid Theory'.

They've become accomplished, exciting, restrained and wise.

What makes these songs really special is their ability to maintain a pop coherency, whilst being genuinely quirky and experimental.

Despite its essentially downbeat lyrical thrust, 'Us' has joy written all over it and repeat-play etched into its grooves.

The problem is that 'Level II' is a pretty fabulous album caught in the wrong time.

'A Little Deeper' is a lyrical bombshell and its only downfall is that the production has a tendency to sound flat and mundane by comparison.

Neither Callahan's trademark poetic gloom nor his even-keel misanthropy have been ditched in time for 'Supper', but it does see him breathing deeper than before and moving with a surprising spring in his step away from the claustrophobic intensity of his previous work.

A real step forward - a challenging and melodic record.

The most obvious comparison for 'Tomorrow Right Now' is Roots Manuva's 'Run Come Save Me' and the UK's bouncement brigade. And the comparison is a favourable one all round.

Beats-wise, 'La Bella Mafia' is easily the strongest thing she's done, and it seems like Kim has raised her rapping game to match the strength of the music.

Yet though the music may not win any originality awards - Sebadoh and Guided By Voices spring instantly to mind as precursors - there is a refreshing lack of pretension throughout.

A more disparate and yet strangely coherent collection of moods and styles you will not hear this year outside a supremely eclectic compilation.

A unique and beautiful work that will be returned to again and again. Definitely, already, an album of the year.

For now at least this is the sound of a band trying to do too much at once and sinking under the weight of their heroes.

A mighty fine album which neatly sidesteps the tired alt.country tag, 'Feast Of Wire' is an engaging musical road trip that you wish would never end.

You've heard this album before then, but it's never sounded quite this crazed and pressed for time.

'100th Window' is every bit the production masterpiece its predecessors are - in places harkening back to, if not quite matching, the collective's glorious debut.

An album of patchy brilliance but with far too many freewheeling moments.

At times, 'Nocturama' feels like he's trying too hard. Some of the ballads suffer this way, as if Cave's straining to recapture the gravitas of 'The Boatman's Call' without excessive revelations or dramatic contrivance.

50 Cent's skills are better suited to the nagging digi-loops of inevitable smash single 'In Da Club', the steel drum roll-out of 'P.I.M.P.' and '21 Questions' - perhaps the track most like something that you might have found Tupac or Biggie at work on in their prime.

This is true cosmic American music and possibly the best thing all concerned have ever done.

Probably makes more sense in a theatre than on your CD player.

Live shows have shown that they have an even more cutting, vital album waiting to be recorded. If they can harness that live edge with this recorded willingness to experiment, their next album will be a monster.

Weller fans can once again breathe a sigh of relief, for the man's still got it.

It's not all brilliant, but there's enough of brilliance here to convince.

While those seeking a quick fix of cheap thrills hip hop will be disappointed, anyone who likes their music lush, multi-layered and lyrical should pick this up without delay.

Amazingly, perhaps, this is a cogent, compact and really quite good record, one that mixes upbeat, perhaps slightly clinical R&B with uber-ballads and occasional snatches of what appears to be an attempt at intimacy.

A plodding collection of ballads carefully designed to show-off her jaw-dropping vocal range to the fullest.

In many ways, 'Evil Heat' comes across as something of an amalgam of the Scream's many phases and, because of that, it doesn't necessarily take them forward as their work in the past has done.

Like all of Boards Of Canada's wonderful records, the whole seems to add up to far more than the sum of its parts.

The fact that experimental, abstract beats have become so popular is partly down to him, but now that everybody's doing it, he has to do it more, or better, or different.

What makes 'Paid Tha Cost...' such an unexpected joy is the way in which Snoop's comic persona offers all involved an opportunity to loosen up and have some fun.

What is different about the overall feel of this messy and ambitious album is that it marks The Roots' liberation from genre, the neo-soul meanderings of 'Things Fall Apart' only appear when they're wanted and never outstay their welcome.

This is 'All Killer No Filler' with bells on and 'Does This Look Infected?' will rightly have the Blink 'boys' quaking in their trainers.

The result is pretty much what you'd expect from an album bearing Lynne's name on the credits.

Braxton has gotten brave and ratcheted-up both the attitude and tempo.

Little more than comic book soundbites, wilting in the jagged, feverish shadow of their illustrious forefathers.

Way more consistent than your average over-long US R&B release, whilst still being stuffed with just as many potential singles.

Lopez' voice frequently sounds a trifle thin accompanied by the sort of sounds that we're better used to hearing behind a Creative Source or Gwen McRae vocal but the honeyed backing massages any real concerns from your mind.

A perfectly contemporary hip-hop release rescued from the ashes of independent hip-hop cliche.

The first truly great rock band of the 21st century.

'Up!' is not without its little oddities and delights.

'Riot Act' may be neither 'the-best-album-since' nor 'a-brilliant-return-to-form', but neither is it more-of-the-same-but-less-so.

'Under Construction' isn't a retro album, so much as it's informed by both new and old. But it also isn't beyond question whether this return to roots doesn't conceal a lack of inspiration.

There's a good album in here crying to be let out.

There are few absolute duffers here: '3D' makes for a perfectly pleasant 50 minutes of slick and homogenised R&B. It's just that, from such a reputable firm - and at such an emotional and auspicious point in their career - it's impossible not to expect more.

While not much of a departure from the honed formula of 'White Ladder', much of 'A New Day At Midnight' opts to pare down that winning mix of gentle dance beats and piano even further, leaving Gray's gorgeous gutsy vocal to do more of the talking on his melancholy tales of love and loss.

Where once the bark was of Beck, we have - and this hurts - Wings.

There's so little substance here, it's difficult to engage with the record or its creator.

A cold and unengaging collection.

This CD will sell solely on Eminem's four contributions, which include the uncommonly restrained current single 'Lose Yourself'.

Forget all you know about Christina Aguilera. She's discovered sex, rebellion, rock'n'roll and, at one amazing instant, drum'n'bass.

While 'Shaman' is less than the sum of its parts and strays into AOR territory too much to ever truly be cutting edge, despite its R&B and Latin infusions, it will, at least in America, sell by the truckload.

As ballsy as anything you'll hear all year.

What 'Original Pirate Material' makes abundantly clear though, is that - whilst Skinner may not be at the very cutting edge of Garage's club soundtrack - he's a man blessed with an astonishing aptitude for pop and a mainline into the Zeitgeist.

Like listening to DJ Shadow after vast amounts of Angel Dust, 'Out Of Nowhere' is a sonic Hall Of Mirrors that bulges and bristles with restless inventiveness and illustrates an impressive attention to detail.

With the exception of the Joy Division influenced 'City', the final third of the album drops the ante somewhat. The idea, though, that this sophomore effort may be laying the foundations for something even mightier cannot be ignored.

Simultaneously laid back and bursting with intensity, 'Lost Horizons' is a film score inviting each of us to direct our own personal movie.

Hot Hot Heat's religious devotion to early eighties new wave is simply embarrassing.

It's a dubious album whose chief innovation is a guest appearance by Nelly Furtado.

An emotive, often sorrowful work that features his most personal lyrics to date.

The thundering beats, subdued vocals of indecipherable lyrics, and power packed riffs are all still there, but they've mellowed and everything is a bit softer around the edges.

'Demolition' may be a rare example of purely commercial dictates - namely, what was doubtless a label decision to downsize from a threatened four-CD boxed set - improving the art in question.

A fractional disappointment after 'Emergency Rations', perhaps. But still, Def Jux's reputation as the most consistent hip-hop label in the world circa now remains unsullied.

He still fires the occasional lyrical blank and his guitar playing has less of the sparks of the past, instead settling into a role complementing the songs rather than dominating them.

Definitely in the hat for album of the year.

Like a new friend who turns out to be a bit of a bore when you let them dominate the conversation, repeat listenings reveal an album bravely attempting to be a monumental statement on the state of life and love but falls short.

'The Sky Is Fallin' is a beast.... 'God Is In The Radio' has got just such an awesome riff, like the Lord himself hotwired to a Marshall amp.

The key to 'A Rush Of Blood To The Head' is to be found not in Martin's presence, but in the intensity, dynamism, verve and style that Coldplay have now nailed, when comparisons to Radiohead, Echo and The Bunnymen and, perhaps most pertinently, U2's 'Unforgettable Fire', manifest themselves in a series of killer strides.

Bloated over-produced soft rock.

At its best, 'We Love Life' features some of the finest British rock music of recent years.

It's blatant commercial product, something for everyone.

It's just hard to find much of Jeff himself in these amiable, head-nod-friendly, immaculately crafted but ever so slightly sterile tracks.

Some of the songs here are forgettable in the extreme.

The dominant sound is of flickering sequencers and heavy-handed synth-pomp which showcases Linkin Park's keen interest in the work of Depeche Mode, but also often leaves them sounding about as cutting-edge and dangerous as Jesus Jones.

Not extraordinary music, but music that hits the nail right on the head of what constitutes good R&B: flawless vocals, opulent harmonies, and easy, reliable melodies.

This album's triumph is to simultaneously place PE in their colossal historical lineage and reinstate their utter relevance.

As a debut album, 'Highly Evolved', for all its faults, can be an energising proposition.

Incredibly, 'Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots' is a record that can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with 'The Soft Bulletin', refining that album's themes and defiantly charging into unchartered musical territories. Another masterpiece.

Underpinned throughout by the kind of melancholic edge discovered on radio friendly ode to smack 'Under The Bridge', and punctuated by a spontaneous, back-to-basics feel, it's an album that sees the Chilis revitalised.

Essentially, Oasis have tentatively begun to master the art of becoming veterans: writing songs that reflect their circumstances and not a mythical image of what they once were; songs that suggest there's life in the old beast yet.

An album full of highly dramatic and almost cinematic entertainment moments.

It's a cruel world in which a Nelly sells more records than the Blastmaster KRS but what 'Nellyville' makes abundantly clear is that its creator won't be leaving a fraction of his foe's proud mark on hip-hop once the dust settles on the frantic promotion of this record.

It's hard to deny Papa Roach have a certain knack of crafting big, glossy, annoyingly catchy anthems for the Kerrang TV generation.

Only lunatics would rank 'Heathen' alongside Bowie's '70s masterpieces. But for a 55-year-old who's spent such a surreally long time floundering, desperately searching for a) the zeitgeist and b) a tune, it's actually rather respectable.

'Storytelling' contains some of B&S's finest songs since their 'If You're Feeling Sinister' peak.

This is music designed to fill arenas - possessed of a consistent quality and vision, a head, a heart and soul - that simply leaves the competition trailing in its wake. An utter triumph.

It feels like the work of a man groping his way, fastidiously but uncertainly, towards the next level.

The good news is that The Polyphonic Spree still make sense stripped of all visual gimmicks.

We've heard it all before, we know the punchline, we've bought into the joke, but still we want the delivery again and again.