Delivering his lyrics in a breathless barrage, 'Boy In Da Corner' packs the energy flash of London MCing into its grooves and for that alone it deserves attention.

Mostly though this is bland Hollywood fodder masquerading as something more.

Although 'Love Is Hell' comes with the assumption that it's more honest than 'Rock'n'Roll', the influences here - albeit different - are just as distracting. [Review applicable to both Part 1 and Part 2]

It's not as far out wild as 'Kaleidoscope' but it is a consistently inventive and brilliant record.

On the evidence of 'Democrazy', the wrong self-indulgent flake got fired from Blur.

Another masterpiece.

This is what she does, really: talk clever, talk dirty, talk funny and, with Timbaland's dedicated assistance, annually expand the possibilities of what pop music can sound like.

This album is nowhere near as imaginative or as interesting as its maker thinks it is.

All fine in principle, except we've heard it all a million times before.

Even the vague pointlessness that hangs over this product (some interesting rarities – aside from the not-very-different 'alternate takes' of a few tracks included here – wouldn't have gone amiss) can't detract from the incredible music contained in the first two CDs.

Quite the most lifeless and unloved record to be released by an artist of Spears' global stature.

In a nutshell this is The Beatles most average album with some of the fluff removed.

It easily stands comparison not just to the stars Jay-Z has been forced to compete with since 1996, but to the all-time greats of hip hop history.

Ultimately there's something very 80s about Pink. Something very kitsch and plastic; something very 'Breakfast Club'.

More commercial - and much better - than 'Rock'n'Roll', occasionally resembling the grandstand melancholia of Coldplay, and more frequently their antecedents The Smiths and Jeff Buckley. [Review applicable to both Part 1 and Part 2]

Adams can undoubtedly pen this classic rawk stuff with his ears closed and, as a result, the 15 tracks here lack heart.

Finally, it seems the venerable Iggy has realised that his own brand of nasty, brutish, reductive rock'n'roll is superior to practically any nasty, brutish, reductive rock'n'roll that has tried to supersede it.

This is a great album, choc-a-bloc with great hooks, melodies and harmonies that evoke the great songwriting of the 70s.

Frankly, this is it all over again.

Three albums in and Basement Jaxx are still so far ahead of the pack that they're a barely visible dust cloud on the horizon.

This may be the point at which even those well-disposed to the nice and the quirky start to note diminishing returns.

The 'world-music' excursions of the previous 'Global - A Go Go' album are less in evidence and 'Streetcore' is a sharper, leaner collection for it.

Almost by accident, it seems, The Rapture have pulled it off: the album of the year.

If you can’t find something here that has you smiling and quoting the old saw about rumours of indie’s death being greatly exaggerated, it’s time to take up opera.

[Dalle] may be the New Courtney Love, at times even the Punk PJ Harvey, but she also has a depth of emotion that was last displayed by Kurt Cobain.

A bitterly disappointing, lacklustre album that is sadly short of distinct memories of any kind.

It's a rich, bright, clever and engaging album that should trash those lame prejudices against Belle & Sebastian once and for all.

The latest in a long line of frustratingly hit and miss solo efforts.