When the band truly comes together, there's a lightness of touch and a winning intimacy.

The Earlies are like a stripped-down take on the [Flaming] Lips: psychedelic, lo-fi and indie in the purest sense of the word.

It’s full of the minute anxieties of life that keep you awake in the early hours, but set to some of the most life-affirming sounds you’ll have heard for a long time.

Animal Collective have made the album I hoped they’d make, and even that it’s autumn and summer’s over.

Young Adults Against Suicide is fun but two-dimensional.

Brash and trashy.

This is a great rock and roll record.

A record that will endure beyond this year, this decade and the rest.

Where YFIIP meticulously arranged the collective of instrumentation for precision, like a ballet, this self-titled album throws everything into a blender, almost completely overwhelming the pretty melodies underneath - but not quite.

Whatever magic they once had appears to have deserted them.

It's far from a poor record - the sole problem is that a number of songs do blur together, forming more of an aural whitewash than the technicolour trip some had predicted.

It seems they’ve not only gone and made that sensible and mature fifth album that every band past their sell-by date inflicts on their effervescently loyal fans, they’ve actually made a record that would be more appropriate in an old folks’ home than your local indie niterie.

Technically sound, simply arranged, atmospheric and occasionally psychedelic, Calla don’t just write musical warning shots bearing messages of violent frustration... they are also capable of immense beauty.

An unremarkable, yet solid record.

Siberia is... essentially a re-make of the Grey Album.

The sisters show an ability to pull different sounds and shapes together to make something extremely enchanting and really very lovely.

Whilst a complete reinvention of rock this may not be, a beautiful soaring record for messy nights and hungover Sundays, it most certainly is.

It hardly makes for the most exciting record of the year.... But it is clearly a very accomplished album.

It is missing IT - that something that makes a good album into a great, standout album.

If you had Nada Surf down as a one-hit wonder indie band that should remain sidelined to compilation tapes, then the magnetic glory of this album will turn your head.

Still as irksome and tuneless as ever.

Unfortunately, by stretching the album to an unnecessarily long 16 tracks, ‘A Bigger Bang’ suffers from its fair share of non-starting filler.

'The Invisible Invasion', like both it's predecessors, takes one or two listens to really get into, but once there has an engaging appeal about it that makes it possibly The Coral's most obvious "singles" album to date.

[It] leaves this bizarre aftertaste – one not of immediate dislike, but one that’s pretty far from appealing enough to warrant a second sampling.

'Gods And Monsters' isn't a bad album, merely average which is a real shame.

BRMC’s third album is a triumph.

The potential and promise that was spoken of so fervently when Minus The Bear arrived is slowly being fulfilled.

'Surgery' isn't the unlistenable, depression-fest it's lyrical content threatens it to be. Instead, it's heartfelt message combined with the monstrous sound behind it make it one of the most curiously uplifting records of the year.

‘Warnings / Promises’ is the work of a band pushing itself to the limits of its generous, but ultimately not boundless musical ability.

Whilst back then they bounced along with cheekiness and zeal, now they seem to be trying to continue the reggae-meets-Brit-suburbia Nutty blueprint but end up falling flat in too many places.

It drags a little, it meanders a touch too often, and you are left wondering if there is anyone at the helm at all.

Secret House's obvious appeal lies entirely with its musical, or rather compositional, diversity.

Where the was once teen angst, there is nowt but middle-aged resignation. And no, the lyrics to ‘Ironic’ still aren’t bloody ironic.

Much like binging on Haagen Daas ice cream when you’re depressed, a little bit of Marjorie Faire is really rather great. Too much can only make you feel bloated and regretful.

While there's a noticeable over-reliance on antiquated classic rock bravado, there's plenty of space to explore here to keep the most discerning noise-rock fan interested.

This is nourishing pop music at its most immediate best.

Easy listening this amn’t, but if you want a rollercoaster ride into deep recessions and to be thrilled by the sounds that surround you, then this could be the perfect album for you.

So euphoric are the multiple highlights here that one can overlook the occasional dalliance with silliness.

This is a faithful and staggering tribute to a state executed with passion and originality, and it's one of the finest records you'll hear this year.

It’s comparable to blending all the best bits of Led Zep and hippie rockers Grateful Dead, with a spoonful of Motown classics to help the medicine go down.

All the essential elements of greatness are here in some small form or other, but Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s time is not now.

Despite the one or two stabs at youthful exuberance evident here, this is an AOR album through and through.

Breathtaking[ly] experimental.

A work of formidable and pristine beauty.

It sounds like Corgan wanted to make a classic eighties 4AD-style shoegazing record, but instead of offering us something swirling and beautiful, we end up with an experience that is simply flat and grey.

An incredibly warm and organic sounding debut.

For all the sonic acrobatics though, it’s a record that feels like it’s missing something vital.

Sure, the Foos are excellent at what they do. It’s just unfortunate that what they do is so unavoidably mediocre.

If you have even the teensiest taste for the guilty charms of Kylie, the ‘Babes or Girls Aloud, this album is a must.

As you’d expect from a band as clockwork tight and renowned for perfectionism as Kraftwerk, the quality of sound and precision of delivery is so spot-on as to be worthy of a studio recording.

There’s not one song on here worth releasing as a single. Only two or three are even remotely listenable.

As a whole, 'Here Come The Tears' is a welcome collection of songs, even if the sentiment of it all does become a little saccharine-queasy after a while.

He's reached another career peak to match that of 1999's 'Knock Knock'.

A big stinking pile of rubbish.

For the most part, Evertything Ecsatic succeeds, but occasionally Hebden strays from the path.

A magnificent album where every verse fills you with excitement for the next chorus, where wide-scoping fields of sound work in unison to stage the perfect pop-rock riot and where every meticulously crafted melody comes back to haunt you when you least expect it.

So many names, so many influences: perhaps unsurprisingly 'Demon Days' is a dizzying, disorientating and sometimes directionless album.

Skull-crushingly heavy, but not without a heart, 'The Woods' is definitely Sleater-Kinney’s finest (and loudest) hour to date.

Their most well-rounded LP so far.

As a document of the way Belle And Sebastian have grown up in public to the sturdy staple of indie pop they now represent on a global scale, 'Push Barman...' is an essential collection of work that simply cements their status as one of the most inspirational musical collectives to have embraced punk's D.I.Y ethic since the late 1970s.

The Secret Migration is a wonderful record, full of exquisite indie-rock epics. But so was the last Mercury Rev record. And the one before that. So what’s changed? Nothing, basically.

Perhaps they're settling into their identity... Fast and furious often, melodic often, powerful often, diverse always.

Athlete seem to have found a formula in the studio and left the autopliot in reverse.

You know a good sound when you want to take out a second mortgage to buy headphones good enough to appreciate it.

So what is there to learn here? How about ‘Hal are generally good, although they’re usually better when they’re trying to blow our minds rather than win our heart’.

If you’re looking for dusty, cavernous melancholia entwined with hard rockin’ and speckled with magic, then consider it found.

In execution, 13&God is a surprisingly sombre album that'll appeal to fans of forward-thinking hip-hop and beyond.

Despite the fact that a few of these nineteen tracks could easily have been cut, or that its mid-tempo pacing may drive it dangerously close to sounding monotonous, the evidence still points to that of a songwriter clawing back to his best.

Snaith... continues his legacy of making constantly challenging, changing music that never gets beyond itself, that always remains immensely human.

Individual instruments are easier to identify, and NIN now sound like more of an organic unit that's augmented by machines and electronics, rather than driven by them. It also contains some of the most accessible and light-hearted numbers that Reznor's produced in his career.

Whereas previous Oneida albums could be criticised for being inconsistent and almost too art-rock for their own good, this sounds both absolutely complete and wonderfully concise.

To call 'Pretty In Black' disappointing would be an understatement in the least, particularly for a band whose delivery has matched their promise over their previous releases.

Celebration Castle does rather suffer from a midsection slump.

Mellifluous, yet unenticing.

It's an absolute must-buy release.

If you hate Ben Folds, you’ll hate this album just as much as anything else he’s ever done. If you’re a fan, you’ll be quietly satisfied.

Inevitably, critics will place Devils & Dust in a trio with Springsteen's other quiet albums Nebraska and The Ghost Of Tom Joad, but be aware that there’s significantly more production polish on Devils & Dust, as well as a wider palette of moods.

While in recent years the work of Autechre has widened to include bursts of melody alongside their cut-and-paste sonic structures, it’s here on 'Untilted' that Booth and Brown get the mixture right.

It is both accessible and challenging at times, and a few bloopers aside a perfectly worthy release, providing the purchaser can tolerate Ian Svenonius' occasional lapses into horrendously irritating vocal histrionics.

Part pep rally, part school-time innocence, In Case We Die is nothing if not full of life and enthusiasm.

There very well may be a human heart beating at the centre of 'Bleed Like Me', but thanks to the walls of effects and static, it's sometimes impossible to hear it.

Whether they're prepared for it or not, 'Open Season' is set to transcend indie cliques and hardcore raving mentalist fanbases and blow BSP wide open.

The songwriting is definitely more consistent than before.

Initally, it all rushes by so fast as to rock you onto your heels, but further listens offer a quick grasp of a set of insidiously catchy songs.

Fucking insane, whatever way you listen to it.

'Warmer Corners' is a timely reminder that the art of songwriting hasn't died - it just goes away and hibernates in the Adelaide Hills every so often.

'Guero' contains several familiar sounds merely repackaged and freshened up - remnants of the party album mentality of 'Midnite Vultures' sit next to the eclecticism of 'Odelay' and the folk sensibilities of 'Mutations'. What negates this is the conviction with which it's all delivered.

Stereophonics have in effect 'done a U2', packing in the arena-filling songs but with added AOR. Elements of rock dinosaurs such as ELO, Chicago and Fleetwood Mac all crop up over the course of 11 songs.

A realistic, delightful and emotionally accessible record.

Silent Alarm's not 100% filler-free - the forgettable 'So Here We Are' could have slipped out the back with little protest - but the autonomy, creativity and sheer, elastic beauty that spans this debut more than justifies the rapidly accelerating hype that Bloc Party are currently generating.

Picaresque is more than an indie-pop album, it's a collection of eleven lavishly arranged acts rife with the whiff of greasepaint and the roar of an adoring crowd, which you should be a part of.

Bland and instantly forgettable.

Those wanting significant progression will find Surrounded By Silence mostly lacking.

‘Songs For The Deaf’ worked because it had the tunes to handle the drama. It dared you to hate it at first so that it could eventually win you over, which made its triumph all the greater. But with ‘Lullabies To Paralyze’ you’re waiting a long time to be won over, and when it finally happens, it’s far too brief.

Hurrah for all those who delight in confounding expectations, especially when the results are this unexpectedly, paradoxically delightful.

If... you’re already a fan, this is definitely worth a listen, not only for the interest value, but for the multiple songs which are simply brilliant Bad Seeds moments.

Flies The Fields is a masterpiece of foreboding that’ll both fascinate and terrify in equal measure.

It is utterly engaging, totally absorbing and, well, absolutely essential.