Kapranos and co have delivered what is simultaneously ‘just another Franz Ferdinand’ album and one of the indie records of the summer.

To that extent Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle seems like a return to older pastures--Callahan’s vocals again dominate, the production is more intimate, the songs themselves are again driven forward by the self-same rhythmic percussion and simple guitar riffs that became Callahan’s signature style over the last decade.

Brothers goes straight into the chase for the finest traditional rock album of the year so far, and with a slight trim to its 15-strong run would be a front runner.

While it might not be as iconic as the records it admires, Chewed Corners is an invigorating return for the Planet Mu head honcho.

The songwriting is definitely more consistent than before.

While the ten songs that follow aren’t quite as arresting, there are still plenty of earworms to be found.

Black Hours might be a tad scattershot, but it's held together with real spirit.

For all its manufactured essence, Red remains firmly grounded at the crossroads between innocence and experience.

At 32 minutes, it’s a short album--but one whose brashness and pace you won’t soon forget.

So yeah, maaaaybe Odd Blood isn’t quite the hive of unfathomably exotic treats that a few of the tracks might have initially suggested. Having given us time to prepare for the fact they’re quite the different band from All Hour Cymbals, Yeasayer Mk II have also given us time to realise that Odd Blood probably isn’t likely to go down as their defining statement.

The witty and intelligent intimacy of his lyrics and his finely restrained vocals growing richer with each repeated listen.

Despite the Milberg-centric promo materials, The Concretes are clearly not just a solo star plus musicians, but the more singer-songerwiter-esque songs are the strongest here.

Having slowed down five per cent, you could imagine The Chronicles of Marnia appealing to anyone who liked Sleater Kinney, or Battles, Dutch Uncles, or even Foals, without having the acquired taste for bands as squirky as Deerhoof or Ponytail.

Just before World of Joy threatens to peter out entirely, Howler’s first ever attempt at a ballad strides in to offer some welcome variation.

God’s Favourite Customer isn’t quite perfect - it lags in the final furlong as piano ballads are fallen back upon one too many times (the title track, ‘The Songwriter’) and lacks the unified overarching narrative of ...Honeybear--but it continues to showcase one of the finest songwriters of a generation.

Warpaint are nothing if not ambitious, which is doubly proved on Heads Up.

If you're only half paying attention, it sounds exactly like the stereotype of techno as nothing but an hour of kick drums. This mix delights in small, fiddly details that demand your attention for their enjoyment.

The case for ...Carbon Clouds as a fine collection of inventive indie songs enthusiastically rendered is undeniable, but if somehow you’re hankering after more than that, well...you get the picture.

If French-born London émigrés John & Jehn don’t quite succeed in nailing the stroppy friction of their live shows over the course of their self-titled debut, third base is at least within groping distance.

There are moments when the album loses its focus and blurs into extended jamming that doesn’t go anywhere particularly exciting, although Malone mostly manages to keep those tendencies in check.

To the novice listener, it won’t make a whole lot of sense, fails to indicate any kind of coherence to their overall output, and is probably not the best place to get to grips with them (although where that would be is anyone’s guess). This, no doubt, is the whole point of Trans Am — to confuse and confound, to take inexplicable U-turns just to see what happens, to irritate and amuse at the same time, to lurch from incredibly catchy pop to attempting a critique of the war in Iraq in an instrumental format.

Whether it is a sense of longing or nostalgia at stake, Moon Tides is a solid, inebriating listen that will guide you through your personal transitions and leave you wanting for more.

All told, Static is definitely worth your time, ­but it falls short of being the truly great record that Cults will hopefully go on to make.

Sometimes Screws Get Loose becomes a little samey and repetitious, but overall, its a pleasant antidote to those cold mid-winter blues while providing Those Darlins a steady platform with which to reach a wider audience.

This emotional rollercoaster of an album has a few cleverly disguised cliches similar to 'emotional rollercoaster' embedded in the music and lyrics.

Whether or not the band are more than just a gumbo of their influences is debatable, but in all honesty, OCD Go Go Go Girls is so damnably fun to listen to that you really couldn’t care.

This is their thing, their schtick. And for the most part, bending phil Spector out of shape and dragging him by his hair through a raft of distortional devices and all the while kicking the hell out of the ‘Leader of the Pack’ is a very good thing.

Leanness is their ideal body state, dirt under the fingernails a sign of rude health. No doubt Riot Now! will only be purchased by those who know, but it's a commendable album.