Almost certainly his best effort since 2001's "Labour Days," None Shall Pass finds Aesop Rock at the top of his game with a consistent piece of work rather than simply a passable album.

No One Is Lost isn’t a bad record: most of its songs are put together with care and the results are highly listenable. It’s just a shame the band seemed to lose their nerve in its execution.

This is an urgent, enormously enjoyable LP.

Side A listens more personal and vulnerable, whereas side B, named EG.0, allows the pop goddess within to let rip.

The Penguin Cafe’s conviction that it will be fine before eleven is clear in this album. Its sunny musical disposition, vibrant rhythms and eloquent melodies make it their best since Arthur Jeffes revived the name.

Merchandise are a band at a crossroads, and After The End reflects that--they’ve proved here that they’re very good at creating accessible indie-pop, but seem more comfortable with their more brooding side.

It's not a bad album, it's not a good album, it's merely an alright album and that's the real problem.

Tales From Barrel House is by no means without flaw, it's too untameable for that--but when it shines at its brightest, it is every bit as alive as the people and lands it attempts to portray.

What may at first come across as a bottled up effort does in fact reveal astounding complexity on repeated listening.

Even when he doesn't quite get the dynamics right, Sivu's gift for melody never deserts him.

An album that finds Nesbitt in the midst of personal and artistic self-discovery. She’s almost there, just a few more seasons.

This album is an acquired taste that may struggle to win a larger audience. If you’re a Grumbling Fur fan, though, you might just like this effort more than any of his other solo collections.

The rock history books have not been as generous to Live Skull as to their contemporaries, but with luck this crazy melodic record will go some way to restoring them as kings and queens of the urban jungle.

While perhaps lacking the simple yet intricate beauty of his purely instrumental work, In The Furrows of Common Place is another strong release from Ghedi, and fans of Chris Wood, Alasdair Roberts, Seth Lakeman and other modern folk luminaries will find much to enjoy in this confident and atmospheric collection of songs.

Philips is very much the band’s driving force. Her musical persona is a collage of punk-rock heroines and sliver-screen starlets. She has the rebelliousness of Kathleen Hanna with the lusty charm of Poison Ivy.

Throughout this eventful record Flohio keeps a clear sense of lyrical and stylistic integrity, and by the time Against The Grain’s glitchy percussion cuts out to reveal solitary reverbed chords we’re left with one of the standout rap albums of the year.

While Meighan’s Liam Gallagher-like machismo may not have been to everyone’s taste, his vocals undoubtedly had much more presence than Pizzorno’s rather bland voice, which does little more than carry the songs on Happenings along, and is indicative of a broader lack of musical personality combined with a lack of truly memorable songs.

It possesses that raw energy that was present in two other exciting debuts, Is This It? by The Strokes and Definitely Maybe by Oasis.

Fragments does not outstay its welcome, but only because it isn’t distinctive enough to be consciously welcomed in the first place. Recommended for owners of trendy cafes and companies in need of hold music.

For a debut album, Quarter Life Crisis is a remarkably confident, assured record, even if it does feel a bit front-loaded by putting most of the more immediate pop bangers in the first half of the album.

The melodic writing is good but not always as memorable as Daft Punk’s pop sensibilities would suggest. Yet there is much here to enjoy, and to suggest the next chapter in Thomas Bangalter’s career will see him flourish as an orchestral composer.

A sweet, cheery and summery collection of folk tunes that sometimes verges on a more commercial surfy sound akin to Jack Johnson while still remaining on the right side of lovely.

Get Back is a really great record, and one that goes some way to cementing McBean’s name amongst the legendary lifers that he’s trying (successfully) to emulate.

This is a fantastic, passionate and wonderfully eccentric debut album that's also a thrilling advert of what's to come.

Anyone with even a passing interest in Royksopp--whose ears have been pricked by an Eple or Poor Leno--could do far worse than immerse themselves in one of 2009's greatest releases.

Speculation aside, the music that Childs and Blake have produced here is gentle, unassuming and good humoured. It won't change the world, but it will warm the hearts of those fortunate enough to hear it.

Sure, it may be playful, uncomplicated and slightly honey-glazed but there is plenty here for music lovers of all ages to enjoy.

Both Roedelius and Schneider have developed their own language and way to communicate with each other through sound. It’s this symbiotic and serene balance that makes listening to Tiden a largely enriching experience.

It may not be music for the ringtone generation, but for anyone who appreciates the understated power and drama that Sigur Rós can do so well, this is an essential purchase

For now, Held In Splendor is a promising, if limited, stepping stone.

Innundir Skinni is still a worthy achievement, it's emotional but not melodramatic; understated yet grand. But it is a mixture rather than a whole and lacks the cohesion of Arnalds' inspiring first album.

Hibbert’s voice certainly sounds older, perhaps even a little weaker, but it still has a communicative power that sometimes allows it to sit at the forefront of the music.

It hangs together well and the songs are decently written. But most listeners need something more, an undeniable quality that is completely unique to a band. A Unique Selling Point, if you will. Hospitality have not found theirs yet.

The loud, distorted, lo-fi West Coast tone dominates the album, and this is the terrority where Goldstein performs most engagingly. Where he attempts a more stripped-down approach (on Fall, or the ukelele-led title track) the results are less successful.

The liberated, enlivened music on You Have Already Gone To The Other World proves they are still one of the genre’s indispensable players.

Thankfully, McCartney appears to be grasping the nettle and squeezing the most out of life and his apparently never-ending songbook. A definite thumbs up.

While her debut On A Mission was a bold hashing-together of genres, equal parts R&B-feels and electro bombast, Little Red rides a comparatively low tidal ebb. But there’s more than enough here to suggest Katy B will be bringing the tunes a while yet.

This album is a fine addition to his collection of socially conscious afrobeat. It’s a sound and approach that pays debt to his father, but is forged in Femi Kuti’s own singular identity.

Go Dig My Grave might not hit the heights of some of her earlier albums, and is certainly a more uneven collection, but it shows Susanna to still be fascinated by the power of sad songs and in possession of a distinctive, singular ability of re-presenting them.

Future Politics is another impressive step in the evolution of Austra: while the band’s second album was a move towards shiny, commercial pop, the follow up sees a more sparse, fragile collection of songs.

Whilst it is certainly unlikely that Key To The Kuffs will do much to alter prevailing opinion towards his work, the record will serve as a worthy addition to Dumile's increasingly fascinating discography.

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.

The problem with Little Neon Limelight isn’t so much the quality of the songs, as they’re generally an intriguing bunch. It’s that it could be rather too eclectic a collection to listen to in one sitting.

The demanding nature of One--a persisting, unrelenting jolt of energy--gets tiring after a while, but there’s no doubt that the highs are incredibly high.

There are 14 tracks all in all, together with a couple of skits. Yet Smith refuses to fall into this trap, by some smart sequencing of the tracks: with the ballads mostly gathered towards the end of the record, Falling Or Flying feels like a coherent album rather than a collection of tracks stringed together.

Far is her best album yet, and while it's a long way from early works such as Soviet Kitsch or 11:11, it perfectly illustrates the evolution of a woman who's becoming a truly great artist.

If you ignore the obvious filler and give it time to wash over, Amanda Palmer Goes Down Under is an enjoyable set of songs that will linger long in the memory.

On balance, Ultraviolence is ok, tending towards pretty good. However, there is a nagging wonderment over exactly where Del Rey goes from here.

It shouldn't work at all, but the overall product--while a bit uneven--is something to celebrate.

Fans of grunge, hard rock, and various types of metal will find a lot to like about these songs. Ladyfinger (ne) blend elements carefully and in such a way as to avoid kitsch.

What’s most impressive about Black Hours is how Leithauser can bounce from one style to another without disrupting the flow of the album.

Surrounding contemporary anxieties within a collage of expertly designated snatches of melody, the record feels slight at first glance before eventually revealing its complexities to the listener, without ever suggesting notions of self-pity.

The only issue is that, over the course of a 45 minute album, Masics’ style can drag a bit. When his songs lose Barlow’s influence, they can tend to lose a bit of energy, and as What Do We Do Now reaches its conclusion, you may be a bit weary of mid-paced plodders like Old Friends and Hangin’ Out. They’re not bad songs as such, there’s just not too much to distinguish them as more than filler.

Dulli is a man still capable of the best in sweat-soaked R&B flavoured rock ‘n’ roll, but he now has a range of subtler, more graceful maneuvers too.

A superb album.

Luckily, there’s enough energy imparted by the snappy drums and darkly driving basslines to keep it interesting, giving structure to the more ethereal elements without overpowering them. If the thought of trawling through the ’90s again leaves you cold, pop this on and party like its 1980.

It’s a great release by one of the UK’s most promising bands, and lays down a foundation for them to build on being melodious and aggressive.

Here Come The Tears sounds like the best album that Suede never made, full of romantic, smouldering pop songs with a soaring depth to them.

A welcome snapshot, for it is that, of the Brakes live experience, in which there is absolutely no padding, total passion and commitment, and the odd wistful aside away from the bluster.

The duo neither pretends to revisit its successful past nor claims a faux renaissance, instead opting for an honest, if solid, collection of songs.

For the most part, Tall Ships have delivered an album that lives up to the promise of their early EPs.

Overall, Bugbears is an album that reveals something new on repeat listens.

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

This is an album that requires immersion; many of the themes and motifs are barely there and need the blanks to be filled in. It is a sonic adventure, scary, exciting and otherworldly.

Hughes isn’t about to change that with Eirenic Life, but this work offers a warming, soothing relaxation state that is a welcome antidote to the troubles of everyday life currently engulfing us, and may appeal to fans of Brian Eno in particular.

SCUM is rarely subtle and its relentless pace can become a little bit much at times. Yet there’s enough promise here to suggest that with more development and quality control, Ratboy could grow into an artist of significant stature.

No half measures or quarters are given, and as a tribute to Pierre Henry it is a fitting piece of work indeed. Yet the lack of human feeling continues to be a problem, and the unremitting bleakness of Oxymore – though accurate for our age – makes it an album for admiration rather than love.

The results are, predictably enough, a mixture of the great, the average and the bloody awful.

The result is an record of rare beauty, like catching a glimpse of an uncommonly beautiful sunset or a finely crafted ice sculpture.

While Am I The Drama? isn’t perfect, it certainly has enough bangers to keep her relevant for a few more years.

While Leave Me Alone has its flaws as an album, it’s the perfect summation of where Hinds find themselves at the moment. And when the sunny riffs of Castigadas En El Granero kick in, you’ll want to follow them to see where they’re going in the future.

Little here really pushes the boat out for Rhys, and some of his eccentricities seem to have been toned down in favour of a casual and restrained atmosphere.

Whilst Obscurities has its moments, it mostly only offers tiny hints of Merritt's real genius.

The instrumental Summer Jam also seems a bit throwaway, and being the closing track also ensures that the album ends on a bit of a damp squib rather than a flourish. Overall though, there is more than enough on Summer 08 to reconfirm Metronomy’s position as one of this country’s wittiest, most original and purely enjoyable pop acts.

Notwithstanding the occasional background music tendencies, The Bird And The Bee is a solid debut which will undoubtedly attract most connoisseurs of intelligent pop.

Enter Now Brightness may not be a full musical rebirth but it does feel like a step up, the sound of Reid operating at a higher level to before.

As an homage to bands that paved the way, though, Fuckbook succeeds.

Despite its experimental genesis, Mines is an incredibly relatable indie-pop gem.

The density of its production and the slipperiness of its song structures ensures that this album isn’t for everyone. But for those with a high tolerance for psychedelic whimsy and the time to invest in repeated listens, Wondrous Bughouse offers ample pleasures.

Occasionally the wish remains Lord Huron would vary their delivery a bit more.

They’ve stopped acting the comedian, and with this album they’re practically demanding that the world at large takes notice.

This seventh album blows all those preconceptions out the water, leaving a record that is finally pure distilled Avril that will connect with long time fans and the Gen Z kids who recognise her iconic status.

Let It Sway proves that SSLYBY are still a power-pop force to be reckoned with, and that they're nicely outgrowing the offhand irony of their name.

Another fine release.

Own Your Ghost is a brilliantly conceived work, deserving of much more attention in the UK.

Even if you do persevere it's likely you'll find pleasure and irritation in equal measure, but at least he always provokes a reaction - a quality never to be underestimated.

Brash, wearyingly loud and very funky, As If certainly isn’t lacking in emphasis, but will likely disappoint if you’re searching for a little more.

Few bands are able to translate the full spectrum of emotions into song as well as the Welsh outfit and now they have established their independence, hopefully Sick Scenes will represent the beginning of an exciting new chapter in their career.

Dark Was The Night is not a perfect album by any stretch of the imagination, although there is enough on offer here to warrant a purchase.

Touchdown is a concise, flab-free 35 minutes of music made by a band, which despite their collective CVs, probably wouldn't be picked out of a line-up.

For Tropicalia purists, the long-delayed return of Os Mutantes will feel like the start of another bizarre, and certainly never boring, miniature revolution.

For those with open minds and without unfair expectations of artists, it will be another fascinating addition to a long and exceptional career.

At once understated and innovative, her often-crazed genius makes this album, different from what went before yet in its way a product of it, a pleasure to listen to.

Rispah is a brilliantly sustained meditation that offers a full, enriching experience.

This is then a collision of musical styles that is totally appropriate and which reflects well on both parties.

Maybe it's familiarity, maybe it's contempt, maybe it's something to do with both, but there's nothing on True which marks itself out distinctly enough for it to warrant more than a passing glance.

He's combined a sparkly and woozy aesthetic with killer melodies to create a cohesive and fun winning formula.

The resulting amalgam never seems forced or affected, and with Curt Kirkwood’s mastery of the guitar the band can skip effortlessly across styles.