The main problem with No Hope, No Future, though, is that very little here stands out above the accepted and expected norm. At times, there's a feeling Good Shoes have almost resigned themselves to a destined state of mediocrity.

It’s easy to see them as a very promising one act; a band taking familiar styles and crafting them into a memorable, accessible whole, with a strong stream of creativity flowing throughout.

The strength of ‘Out From Under’ exposes the weakness of the rest of EP; everything is terribly impressive and texturally nuanced etc, etc, but there is not much of anything to drive the tracks towards a satisfying resolution that would make you want to listen again.

Editors have crafted a bold statement of intent, one that hopefully suggests a continuingly bold future.

Spoon are equally as enjoyable, and perhaps that bit more intriguing, when they are a little bit harder to fathom. Plus, to put it simply, there ain't a duff track to be found here.

End Times is a break-up album that lashes relationship breakdown onto societal collapse, and rarely has Everett sounded so plaintive, so utterly broken down.

We have instead been blessed with an embraceable record from a contemporary dance music auteur and a partner who proves a skilful wingwoman.

Instead of concerning themselves with matters out of their control, Motion City Soundtrack have knuckled down and at last knocked one out of the park.

On the one hand, it seems that she wants to stick to her roots and make a country record, yet on the other hand, she wants to put on her engineer hat and make an album that is sonically interesting.

Remarkably the chuck it all in and see what happens approach works, mainly because the superb sheen of production papers over any cracks. What we are left with is an inescapably solid album.

Contra is a solidly entertaining, well-constructed album, and if people take to it, the tendency to mock the band will, I think, fade, simply because it doesn't have obviously unfashionable moments to feel uneasy about.

Whatever you care to call him, the man’s come up with the goods.

Slight discrepancies aside, July Flame triumphs when the music is stripped and Veirs' reflective folk-pop and country-folk songwriting comes to the fore. As it transpires, July Flame is a treasure trove for the wistful daydreamer.

Overall Animal is a dumb album. Where it tries to be empowering and fun it comes off sounding like a spoilt brat singing the American Pie script through auto-tune.

There is enough in the moments which don’t quite astound to suggest that Lawrence Arabia is on the cusp of making a real classic of a record, until that time arrives, go check out ‘Beautiful Young Crew’ and drool at the prospect of an album which tops it not once but twice.

If Fall Be Kind is noticeably less hooky than "Merriweather Post Pavilion," it sounds just as ravishing, and offers an equally cohesive whole.

Granted, there’s a dropped line or two (see the Katy Perry reference in the frankly appallingly saccharine ‘I’m Good’ and the misjudged Jamaican patois of ‘There Was A Murder’) but this remains an album with few weak points, and plenty of strong ones.

Waiting For You is hardly the kind of record that grabs and demands your undivided attention. Instead it offers gems buried deep amongst its cityscape’s gently fluorescing streetlamps and slow-moving traffic, crafting a distinctive, defiantly twenty-first century urban soul music that, given due care and attention, leaves an afterglow simmering long after the CD spins to a halt.

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.

It’s a talent for smallness in spite of showy surroundings, an Englishness that’s as convincing as anything Jamie T, Mike Skinner or Lily Allen has produced, infiltrating the upper echelons of the American music establishment.

Hearing rappers coming from this musical sphere is a refreshing novelty however, and the record is definitely one of the most interesting, if not exceptional things to emerge this year.

There’s only one test a live album has to pass, and this one stands up to it: if you were there you’ll be prompted to bask in the memory, and if you weren’t you’ll be wishing like hell that you had been.

Far from succumbing to the simplicities of a simple mash up record or a standard mixtape, Edan has created a flowing, evolving piece of music as liquid as the basslines he’s so fond of sampling, that has never yet failed to bring a grin to my face.

The inescapable feeling that Don’t Stop probably won’t sell all that many copies makes the songs sound like electric guitars without amplifiers. There are only so many things a musician can provide and sadly Annie has it all but that key component.

Everything about Beak> is a cohesive, ambitious and thoughtfully-executed murky delight. A godsend of a record in these times of landfill indie.

It’s an oddball groove-rock album, played very well, imprinted with Homme's undeniably interesting personality. Yet when all’s said and done, it's not particularly memorable and entirely lacks the type of yee-haw exuberance that might have made it a sloppy treat.

On this record, Merril Garbus manages the impressive feat of condensing much of the decade’s more interesting musical trends into one very well delivered tapestry.

They’re still an incredibly likeable band, unashamed of being rabble-rousing without ever resorting to lowest common denominator tactics, but The Cribs have toned down the things that made them great.