While there's nothing as irresistibly catchy as "Under Rug Swept"'s magnificent "Hands Clean", the overall impression, musically speaking, is one of freshness, optimism and energy. But better still, it's smart, and sussed, and frequently funny as hell.

Favours The Song over ambient abstraction and real-time playing over rejigged samples.

It's, well, a thoroughly professional record. And therein lies the problem. Method Man, perhaps more than any other Wu-Tang member bar ODB, has personality to burn, and trying to force it into a box fit for any other hit rapper is an impossible task.

One meandering ballad follows another, each one overlong and labouring under the illusion that emotional profundity is more important than a decent tune.

As challenging and glorious as rock can go when filtered to it's basic elements, but not without a whiff of indulgence.

As an album it’s so random and erratic that it’s neither a brave step forward nor a disastrous wrong turn; just an entertaining detour while they workout where they’re actually going.

His eye remains sharp.

For a handful of decent Morrissey songs – and, it must be said, some of his best ever vocal performances – we should be grateful. Ultimately though, for all these tantalising reminders of greatness, "You Are The Quarry" still feels like a man unnecessarily trapped by the limitations of his band and the extent of his loathing.

"Up At The Lake" may not be The Charlatans' finest effort, but it’s certainly good enough to suggest they could still be around for another 14 years.

Appallingly tasteful.

This is a strange, disturbing, unsettling, compelling album.

It’s pretty much all fantastic.

This is the sound of an emboldened, beefier Beta Band, certainly, the new songs sounding fuller, freer and more confident than ever before.

Despite the overbearing subject matter of war, morality and protest "Trampin'" doesn't feel like a particularly heavy album.

To live in their world is like being trapped at an idiot's convention and almost – but only almost - as bad as Limp Bizkit.

It’s not as remarkable a transformation as the one Rick Rubin performed on Johnny Cash, but this is a fine collection and as pleasurable a listen as it undoubtedly was to record.

It’s a phenomenal album. And best of all, it’s unmistakably Prince.

So all-in-all, with every track practically a text book example of what great pop should sound like, even the ballads, Hanson’s return is a welcome one.

Nguyen has created what will probably be one of 2003's best albums. 'Again' is a dark and sexy record that reveals itself seductively over time.

Three albums in, their belief that success and integrity don’t have to be mutually exclusive, is finally starting to pay off.

At these transcending moments, "Good News...". is elevated into excellence. But overall, there is too much Mouse that bores and not enough Mouse that roars.

That it'll be her most scrutinised release is a problem, because its stilted, wearying, obsessive concentration on an uncomfortably forced notion of it's creator's sexuality means it's the only album she's made in the last dozen years that doesn't merit such focussed attention.

The most inventive and exhilarating rock music Britain's producing right now.

With lead single "Yeah!" being a genuine cyber funk masterpiece, and a lot of other perfectly respectable tunes backing it up, "Confessions" isn’t hard to like. But with the overall impression being of nice Usher making another nice album, it’s impossible to get excited about.

Flawlessly interesting is what we’ve come to expect from Williams and Hugo, but "Fly Or Die" is rather interestingly flawed.

Jem’s deadpan tones sound like a slightly huskier, sluttier Beth Orton, and while nothing quite matches the beguiling "They"... she strikes the odd thimbleful of gold.

Musically, it's a mess.

A definite tour de force for indie hip hop.