It is a testament to Eminem’s enduring talent that the album never feels laboured or even slightly dated. Instead, it is a perfect reflection of the world of Marshall Mathers in 2013.

Salute is an undeniably solid album, and has a lot more going for it than similar efforts from many of Little Mix’s pop peers this year.

Due to the short duration of many of these tracks, it all feels a bit lightweight and insubstantial.

Throughout ARTPOP signifier upon signifier is piled on top of sometimes brilliant melodies, creating enough room for breathless readings of Gaga’s ‘art’ certainly, but failing on the more basic level as engaging pop music.

Their strengths lie within rocky, repetitive grooves and guitar wizardry, with Johnson’s own appearance aptly resembling that of a wizard. Tellingly, the band only once surpass a running time of six minutes on Back To Land. In this case, less is more.

There is much potential here--Arthur clearly has far more to offer music than the Marcus Collins‘ of this world--yet it feels frustratingly undeveloped.

Peace On Venus is arguably the band’s finest (half-)hour since Dilate.

Ozanne has stayed true to his roots and is peddling a gloriously emotional torrent of untamed electronica, soul-pop and darkwave. It’s both uplifting and tormented, both grandiose and intimate.

In sum, How To Stop Your Brain In An Accident cements Future Of The Left as unique.

As a collection of songs, this eponymous effort goes a long way to restore the singer to her rightful place as purveyor of some of the most carefree, feelgood pop around.

It may not always work, but when it does, M.I.A. can still sound like the most exciting pop star on the planet.

The album, then, is a bit of a mixed bag but does enough to deliver on its mission statement.

In general, you want McCartney, the least experimental Beatle (yes, including Ringo), to stick to what he does best. And on New, he mostly obliges, making it one of his better recent efforts.

DJ Rashad indulges in his own tastes and viewpoints, ultimately creating an album’s worth of songs that are exciting on their own but exhausting and at times dull when listened to from start to finish.

There are still creases to iron out, but Antiphon marks a significant step as Midlake move on to the next phase of their career.

It’s the perfect break-up album as there’s no wallowing--rather, there’s a steely defiance running through these songs that make Tall Tall Shadow a surprisingly uplifting experience.

Thankfully, the songs are varied and powerful enough to sustain the album, and their balls-to-the-wall approach is both refreshing and entertaining.

Reflektor is not the vintage record the hype would have us believe. But it will, if nothing else, get your feet moving.

There’s the archetypical vulnerability lurking beneath each track, but their sound suggests something everyone from that mid-2000s period has (hopefully) done--matured and become more assured. With it, indie pop mk II has as well. Excellent, this.

Pain Is Beauty not only shows Wolfe’s penchant for atmosphere but for stylistic diversity.

This is a remarkable debut that fairly sizzles with confidence and attitude.

While unlikely to change anyone’s life, The Head And The Heart have produced a record that’s richly enjoyable and well performed throughout, establishing themselves as a worthy addition to their home town’s roll of honour.

There’s certainly a market for anodyne, unthreatening, middle of the road pop, and Blunt appeals to that market very successfully. Yet those who look for music to move them, be it through the feet, heart or brain, probably won’t be surprised to find that there won’t be too much to appeal to them here.

The 10 tracks that make up Arrows will wrap you up, hug you close and tell you stories before placing you back gently, where they left you.

It doesn’t quite always work, but it is a promising reinvention.

The album has been patiently developed and refined over the last few years and it shows.

While the album is unmistakably Hecker’s vision, it’s the listener’s experience.

Unfortunately, without much to grasp onto in terms of tunes, hooks or discernible lyrics CFCF can slink away into the territory of background music, albeit prettily and inoffensively.

Shulamith can still be considered a worthy addition to the band’s back catalogue, even it just doesn’t quite reach the heights of their excellent debut.

There is no doubt that Prism will do exactly what it’s been created to do (sell millions, provide the backdrop for a lucrative tour and make a lot of money for a lot of people) but it’s safe and cold where it should have been daring and involving.

Childs doesn’t always find the music industry an easy place to be, but when the end results are as likeable and appealing as those found on Situation Comedy, you hope his restless creativity never truly goes away.

Quarters is such an inventive, smartly composed album that complaining about its lack of emotional clout feels like nitpicking rather than the exposure of a serious flaw.

The ingredients might be mixed correctly, but the cake hasn’t quite risen.

His compositions are conceptual and carefully planned, but the resulting performances also have the strong sense of freedom and spontaneity that comes with the musicians’ experience in jazz.

Static isn’t a perfect album, but it contains enough promising signs of evolution to predict a long career for Cults.

Fanfare is the sort of album Jonathan Wilson was bound to make, immaculately crafted and perfectly defined.

With lyrics in the languages of Turkey, Kurdistan and Iraq all included, with the express aim of engaging listeners throughout the region, Souleyman’s mission to bring a more positive view of his country, and its thrilling musical forms, to a wider audience continues unabated.

It’s a story (almost cinematic), a journey, and far and away the greatest album they’ve done so far.

Trouble is, the arrangements on Head Up High are low-key to the point of nothingness.

Chatma never feels like any kind of compromise, and the presence of Tinariwen singer Wonou Walet Sidati adds a new dimension to the music, one that sometimes threatens to overpower Ousmane Ag Mossa’s less imposing vocal presence.

Where an artist as eclectic and unpredictable as this might go next is anybody’s guess, but on the basis of this quietly spectacular album, it’s likely that listeners will be more than happy to follow him into the unknown.

The main discernible difference immediately noticeable is the increased tempo and prominent, thundering rhythm section alongside racing guitars.

The music covers a diverse range of styles, with the solo offering more of a melodic folk-rock affair.

Fabricius is clearly talented, but Wish Bone probably won’t be the album to deliver the breakthrough she deserves.

It adds up to one of his most vital offerings since those heady days of old.

It is neither better nor any worse than The Logic Of Chance. But what is really telling is the lack of anything remotely resembling a standout track.

A functional album it may be but Closer To The Truth does nothing to puncture the illusions which so many love about Cher and that, ultimately, may be the best anyone can expect at this point.

In the grand tradition of rockers who have music to cure their own isolation and misery, Barnes and Of Montreal have entered a great one in the canon with Lousy With Sylvianbriar.

It can sound like a mish mosh of the obscure record collection of a New Yorker-reading, Ivy League graduate, and one who knows how to have fun just as well as he knows philosophical theory.

It’s by no means perfect and it does feel slightly one-paced, but the layers of Heritage are undoubtedly worth unravelling.

Ultimately, We Were Here is another strong return from Turin Brakes, one that doesn’t stray far from their acoustic niceties, but one that also seeks out a natural progression.

This is basically the sound of 2003 with the addition of up-to-date electronics. There’s nothing you won’t have heard before, which is a big part of the problem with Collapse.

While that development may take some by surprise, Melophobia finally sees Cage The Elephant realise their full potential.

A quiet, easy confidence in their abilities and a collection of productions straddling just about every dance music touch-point from the past 25 years.

Ultimately, Bitter Rivals is a mish-mosh of songs: some good, some of high quality though tempered by and succumbing to poppiness, and some that shouldn’t have made the final cut.

The sub-two minute ditties appear out of sequence and fail to offer much narrative glue to stick the album together. But at least they threatened to provide some structure to an album that sounds great but leaves you starved of proper sustenance.

While the band’s penchant for steadying, shimmering guitars and unexpected use of instruments certainly appears on VII, it’s not enough to overshadow this album’s lack of originality.

At the grand age of 72, he’s grown into his voice and can sing with conviction and honesty, but not at the expense of youthful venom.

Master is perhaps less dense than their previous offering, but still possesses the ability to invoke terror and occasionally, irritate. Despite these occasional forays, Master is a powerful album.

The list of guest stars includes Jessie J, Robbie Williams and will.i.am, and the album is as overproduced as those names suggest. Worse still, on The Fifth Dizzee Rascal succumbs to the worst stereotypes of rap music.

While the dynamics may be a little different, her wonderfully expressive, kaleidoscopic guitar playing and that voice, capable of alternating within the space of a few notes from a barely audible whisper to a wailing banshee, both remain as compelling as ever.

Glow And Behold has its ups and downs and isn’t quite the coherent, self assured package that its predecessor was; instead it’s the sound of a band reconfiguring, trying to work out which way to go and what to do next.

The occasional deployment of distortion maybe hints at a lingering anger or resentment, whilst the presence of detached, ghostly human voices shows Willner is a master controller of his music’s constituent elements.

This feels like an unnecessary and slightly cynical afterthought, much like a lot of pop music. It isn’t necessarily all bad in terms of quality. But it is utterly dispensable.

It’s not the worst album in the world, but it certainly doesn’t live up to the acres of hype that have led up to it. It’s just rather average.

Decidedly mixed results--but also, a sense of light at the end of the tunnel.

This is a real treat from a rapidly evolving artist and one of the year’s most purely pleasurable albums.

This Is… Icona Pop is a worthwhile listen because it doesn’t dumb down. It’s not trying to enlighten, either.

This time around, they’ve toned down on the drama and, despite Sheff wanting to make this album quickly, seem to have taken the time to recount the past so they can tell their stories with appropriate reverence to being young.

In the end, what really matters is that the superior Nothing Was The Same brings back the excitement of So Far Gone.

While the length is an issue, when Quasi do get it right, the results are up there with some of the best work they have produced over the last two decades.

Certainly, some people will find Aventine a bit hard to take – at first listen, it sounds so pleasant it just washes over, and it’s only on repeated plays that its dark mysteries reveal itself.

Flynn remains one of the country’s most overlooked songwriters and Country Mile is a good reminder of his skill with a well-crafted song.

R Plus Seven is as singularly compelling as any of his previous releases, but in his desire to transcend glossy hyper pop and introspective electronica into something new and fascinating, Lopatin has delivered a masterful debut for his new label.

This is a protracted album centred largely on song based material, and its rather inconsistent levels of success rely heavily on the quality of the melodies and textures, and on the strength of communication from the vocalists.

We knew Sky Larkin had potential. It’s been more than followed up on with Motto, surely one of the best albums of the year.

Overall, this is an album full of promise, poise and brio.

Closing track The Dogs (featuring Moby himself on vocals) does stretch things out somewhat, it doesn’t spoil the notion that Innocents, while maybe not the creative renaissaince hinted at, is Moby’s best album for some time.

All in all, it’s hard to see this appealing to anyone other Gabriel completists.

Stretched to album length, Haim’s shtick grows repetitive and the music is too frequently solid rather than inspired.

On the whole his decision to try something different is a commendable and promising move and you get the feeling that it’s a direction he could continue to explore with success should he choose.

The vocals retain the Eastern feel that pervades much of the album, but there’s more space here than elsewhere on Dalmak. There’s no bustling cities or wild parties spiralling out of control; instead it’s far more peaceful and elegant.

This is a debut that is, at times, rewarding and marks out Huerco S as a producer to watch.

On only a few listens, it’s clear that Mediation Of Ecstatic Energy is by far the most dynamic of not only these releases but of Wong’s entire career, not only on an instrumental level, but on an emotional level.

Move In Spectrums is a very good record but it’s not a great one. The reason for this is quite simple: the album is lacking the one absolute killer track that would elevate the album to a higher status.

Overall, Touché Amoré’s shift to the emotional and the subtle at times, without sacrificing the exhilarating annihilation that characterizes their music, renders Is Survived By dynamic and of higher quality than anything they’ve done before.

The Land Of Hell is always interesting and always moving in many directions at once. Of the artists who can pull off that kind of randomness, Ono remains pre-eminent.

This is a gloriously atmospheric second album from a band who will surely soon be as lauded and acclaimed as their better-known labelmates.

Whilst it obviously won’t be eligible for the Mercury Music Prize on the basis of nationality, this compelling, rigorous and often beautiful work ought to receive the same level of attention as Jessie Ware’s debut.

Those who care not to pay much attention to lyrics might just find themselves bawling on the dancefloor without quite knowing why, as these earworm tunes form a perfect delivery system for the heartbreak (and occasionally a little vengeance) contained at their very core.

It is refreshing to hear Sandoval’s stunning vocals once again coupled with Roback’s guitars. The world is a better place for it.

It feels mechanical, a band on auto-pilot, going through the motions of songwriting and recording but with their hearts elsewhere.

Because you’re ready for The Things We Think We’re Missing. It’s yet another one of those albums you didn’t know how badly you needed.

From Here To Now To You isn’t going to propel Johnson to dizzying new heights--commercially or critically--but it’ll keep fans listening.

Slight dips aside, Imitations could never be described as pale.

It may be unpalatable and difficult but it is a debut album that should at least be commended for its dark, experimental ambition.

While it may not be 1995 any more, few listening will care when the nostalgia is this expertly crafted.

Notably the first half of the album, it cements Nature Noir’s reputation as a genuinely rollicking take on psychedelic garage rock of a bygone era. When it doesn’t work, as on the second half of the album (minus the title track), it begs the question about whether the Stilts should have abandoned their visceral rock in the first place.