Rivers Cuomo & co rejuvenate some long lost gems.

Despite boasting another stellar line-up of guest vocalists, James Lavelle’s dance-rock project once again fails to convince.

Soft metal album that challenges Whitesnake, Bon Jovi and Van Halen. Funny...I think.

The clunkers come thick and fast.

Widescreen return from Jam wannabes.

This isn’t the place for Timbaland to try any new tricks and what starts off as something quite thrilling rapidly loses its impact over the course of the album’s 19 long tracks.

Disappointing swansong from the King of Pop.

A tiny step forward for indulgent Leeds outfit.

Go on, drink whiskey from the bottle, see if I care. But when you’re done, don’t jump around like gracelessly ageing Bratz dolls playing late-era Kiss and think you’re a blistering she-Crue.

Pop and R&B backroom boy steps into the spotlight.

His take on crunk (which is so generic it feels generous to even call it a “take”) feels flimsy and devoid of hooks, although the lightly Carribean production touches do show a smidgeon of promise.

Cute enough to be mainstream, indie enough to be cool, different enough to stand out but normal enough to be accessible... and sufficiently talented to pull it all off.

Craig David's back, and in fairness, he makes a decent fist of it. However, David is hamstrung by trying to please both critic and fan.

Poor man’s Usher wallows in hip-hop cliches.

Predictable return to stadium soft-rock from former Poodle-permers.

An edgy rock album, reminiscent of Razorlight’s great debut, had been promised but is nowhere to be heard.

Sleek but insubstantial fourth outing from R&B songstress.

Teenage dreamer turns in nightmare of a second record.

The catchiest tune on The Block is ‘Summertime’, and in dignity terms it’s Cohen-meets-Waits compared to their hyperactive teen-pop of old.

Neither tearaway maverick nor irrelevant abdicator, Brett Anderson sounds like a man out of time in a time out of joint. No bad thing, necessarily.

What the world needs now is love, sweet love. Instead we get a new Korn album. Oh well.

Close but no rosette for the new British diva on the block.

Necessary Evil is bereft of surprises and is pretty much as you would expect it to be.

Underclass Hero is a perfectly workable North American punk rock album. It’s got melodic suss and a snotty attitude to its credit, but not much else.

With their very different moods, the ‘London’ and ‘Dublin Sessions’ respectively nourish two different aspects of spiritual longing: the soul’s yearning for a sense of reverence and awe, and its equal need for spiritual intimacy, comfort and familiarity.

Raw, sparse, low-key, vocodered hip hop.

Athlete's third effort Beyond The Neighbourhood goes some way to restoring their initial well-deserved kudos.

More shouty rock and party anthems from the valleys.