As enjoyable as it all is though, it’s hard to escape the lingering feeling that Lidell is best when balancing his desire to mine the rich seam of electronic music’s past with a more innovative perspective.

Be Your Own King, is above all things, a fun record.

It’s an intriguing mixture of pure punk, post punk, and first-wave emo--think Fugazi or Rites Of Spring--though the moments of deliberate discordance are as frequent as the buried melodic gems.

Odeon may lack two of the qualities that were so evident and satisfying on albums like Suzuki and No Hassle, namely their smooth consistency and unbroken flow.

Evolution Theory is an album that has a base level thrill to its highlights but it is an ephemeral thrill that is fleeting on record, and there’s the sense that these songs will work best in the live environment where Modestep will excel.

Arguably one of Dutch Uncles’ greatest strengths is that their music never sits still and is devilishly difficult to categorise, thanks to the intricate tapestry of expertly woven threads painstakingly constructed on each song so adroitly that it all fits together perfectly, without any single element being allowed to monopolise the listener’s attention.

Fuelled by more than a decade of experience, Conduit sees Funeral For A Friend unleash an excitingly fresh attitude resulting in a record that could so easily be mistaken for an LP released by a band over a decade their junior.

It’s all intelligently arranged, but also in thrall to the energy and swing of jazz tradition--there is plenty of rhythm and blues during the improvising.

Their blend of the parochial and multi-cultural with a hint of dark mystery combines to promising effect here.

Overall, while II is a success, it’s just not quite the great record it should have been.

Musically it’s a subdued affair, but there are echoes of the dancefloor euphoria mixed with relentless paranoia drifting in and out throughout the song’s duration, conjuring up images of the long walk home from an unsuccessful night clubbing.

For all its flaws, it remains a tremendously fun record. But artistically speaking, it’s woefully weak.

Homosapien at its best creates a refreshing sense of vitality in a genre often defined by its synthetic nature.

Push The Sky Away demonstrates that even in his 30th year, nobody delivers a lyric quite like Nick Cave.

In its creation of something towering from fundamental, basic elements, it is alchemical.

Like many victims of the cut-throat mainstream pop game it wants to join, Heartthrob falls down more often than not because the songs capture the immaturity of its target audience a little too well.

Whilst How I Knew Her is lacking a little in inventiveness at times, and some of its oddities will rub up people the wrong way but there are still plenty of great moments scattered throughout to make it worth your attention.

The album is certainly imaginative, if not entirely coherent, and this is perhaps what makes the band a unique presence.

Holy Fire is the sound of a band utterly on form and completely on top of their game.

No Selfish Heart is something to cherish all year round, no matter what’s in or out of fashion musically; something to keep coming back to when you’re unimpressed by everything else.

Too often though these stabs at versatility end up as clichéd impersonations.

Die-hard fans can rest assured that the band have certainly not gone rave but, sadly, there’s really not a great deal to rave about either.

The legend behind m b v, as well as its songs, have created something many will talk about for much longer than it’s taken to arrive.

It’s a difficult one to love; most of these songs will drift out of your brain almost as soon as they enter.

Devlin’s talents as both lyricist and rapper are never in doubt, but for all the album’s pomposity and scale, musically speaking, it feels like a big step backward.

A gorgeously warm, fuzzy album by a man wise--and sad--beyond his tender years.

It is not quite playful enough or quite inventive enough to truly excel, but it is a largely fine effort from a man who anyone with an interest in UK electronic music would surely find to be well worth investigating.

For every sledgehammer track, there’s a garlic crusher, destructive in a lightweight and cosmopolitan kind of way.... It’s this lightness of touch and ecleticism that makes the album such a refreshingly undemanding listen.

There are rewards to be had for perseverance but, just like before, we’re left wishing they’d loosen up a bit.

While Fidlar’s debut does have a tendency to wonder towards the mindless end of the spectrum, their eponymous album, for the most part, is actually quite accomplished.

Whether he has been re-invigorated by love, his new band or just from old-fashioned growing up, Mark Everett and Eels re-define themselves here with exhilarating success, putting all associations with misery out of mind with a compelling finality.

This lack of ego lends a refreshing air to an album which is self-assured, charismatic and quite simply brilliant.

It is a surprisingly refreshing listen.

It is a debut album of real class.

You don’t often have to wait as long for debut albums, but by taking their time and perfecting their first full length release, THOAP have created something truly memorable.

Hummingbird may not be as instantly likable as Gorilla Manor, but its seductive beauty and emotional pull is virtually impossible to resist.

The double album is a difficult thing to pull off, but considering the anticipation before the release of Biffy Clyro’s sixth LP, the trio have done a fine job.

Christopher comes across as so eager to please that parts of the album lack vim where it’s needed, despite the luxuriant polish that’s been spread across all 10 songs.

The production drips with gloss, but unlike Acolyte, it’s a gloss that obscures rather than glimmers.

Oddfellows then is a fairly straightforward album, although it possesses enough personality and deftness of touch to bear repeated listens.

The amount of painstaking effort that’s evident on Anything In Return suggests that he’s in this for the duration.

Overall, Matthew E White and his Spacebomb house band have created a brilliant debut, one that will undoubtedly have artists queueing up to be a part of this newly established project.

This is comfortably Roberts’ most colourful recording and, whilst it retains the hypnotic quality of his delivery, also takes another significant step in his development a living, breathing artist going well beyond the curation of folk traditions.

An album that’s easy to enjoy yet difficult to fall in love with.

Despite the strength of this first offering, you can’t help but feel Foxygen haven’t quite reached their full potential.

True North is a decent album, but one with no real standout tracks.

It’s a confused collection of songs, but there are enough gems here to suggest that they’ll come good soon enough.

Home is a significant statement from a hugely impressive producer at the peak of his powers.

There are some encouraging if fleeting flickers of light and warmth here that hint there could be more to come in terms of musical development, but for now the group are little more than faithful revivalists of a niche subculture with limited appeal beyond those already converted.

There are times on Coming Out Of The Fog when Arbouretum seem to be a little too self indulgent and one paced, but each of these songs has a hook that digs deep and refuses to let go.

As has frequently been the case with later Yo La Tengo albums, the surface appearance of this music is deceptively simple. Delve beneath it, and the artistry that has fuelled the group for three decades gradually reveals itself.

While the concept behind Lysandre works well on Owens’ first debut outing, there is always a nagging feeling of something missing throughout the record.

There’s neither swag nor swagger here, just talent and a single-minded creative vision worth every gasping breath it takes to keep up with.

The extroverted, joyful melodies of Photon or the sustained brilliance of Spectral Split seem like brilliant recontextualisations of Weber’s artistic virtues.

Tre! is more whimper than bang.

With a little less mess, and a little more hook, the band might find some truly zealous followers.

Defying all expectations, they have taken a brave leap forward and delivered one of the first great albums of 2013.

Lost Sirens makes for a welcome parting shot; a sugared pill to take before slipping away into happy dreams where Bizarre Love Triangle plays from now until eternity.

Long.Live.A$AP is unlikely to win over the doubters, but it will consolidate A$AP Rocky’s status as an exciting talent.

When the stories are this well told, it doesn’t matter that Dropkick Murphys keep re-writing them.

Living With Ghosts is an album that demands intense focus and attention.

The echoes of previously heard themes, motifs make for a compelling examination of memory and experience as much as for an effective soundtrack.

This album’s seeming eschewal of depth and nuance of meaning leaves it feeling ultimately hollow.

Lady From Shanghai is not an enjoyable record--it’s not meant to be--nor is it by far Pere Ubu’s finest or most original musically. Yet it deserves applause for what it attempts to achieve, which is largely successful.

For all its archness and sophistication, the music here has a very clean, mainstream sound too.

Many Blue Nile classics whispered their way to five minutes without outstaying their welcome, and there's plenty here that could have done the same. It's a minor quibble, however, when an album sounds as lovingly crafted, honest and subtly passionate as this.

It's an adventurous, seductive and plush exploration of the depths of progressive and popular metal.

Cobra Juicy is an album that needs time to reveal itself. Like the band itself, it is a mysterious work that is difficult to get to the heart of, but with a little effort it is a rewarding experience.

Huge swathes of uplifting, chest beating, and grandiose magnificence populate this album, and it is almost impossible not to get swept up in the sheer pomp of the performance.

Those looking to capture a mood, to dive in to something soothing for just over half an hour, would be well advised to kick back and let the music wash over them

Like Dylan, Born To Sing will probably be an acquired taste for some (the jazzy backing may put some off, as may Morrison's tendency to incessantly repeat lines and start scatting every so often), but it's yet another example of his sometimes erratic genius.

At times, the low-key, downtempo atmosphere may threaten to overwhelm, but Nocturne is an album that both solidifies and enhances Wild Nothing's growing reputation.

Other Worlds is a pleasant, but modest experience and, while an effort has been made to stamp every track with distinctive hints, the end result is an interesting but arguably undemanding work.

Fay consistently finds beauty in the world and is not afraid to express such sentiments. There are also moments of very real sadness--but a hard-won wisdom and acceptance cuts through.

It's appealingly uncompromising and right on the border between lucidity and madness.

On The North Sea Scrolls, Haines stays true to his own brand of dark, surreal mystification and harnesses two other individual talents to create something that some will find highly satisfactory.

This is a bold, honest and carefree collection that, rather than announcing Kozelek's frustrated retirement, seems set to point to new and exciting musical adventures.

There is a great deal of music here that showcases Ahmed Gallab's musical dexterity and skills as an arranger, however it is slightly unsatisfying as a cohesive and lucid album.

As its title suggests, Accelerando provides plenty of speed and also a very real adrenaline rush.

It's a brilliant exploration of the inevitable interaction between sound, the passing of time and the active process of listening.

For the most part, this is a fizzing, fuzzing album that manages to sound both younger and older than the band that produced it.

As a rather short album, it impresses without feeling like a definitive statement from the group, but contains enough interesting ideas and beautiful moments, as well as a great demonstration of both experimentation and pop-sensibilities in equal measures, that it leaves one excited and intrigued about what Teengirl Fantasy might make in the future.

There is a hidden depth to much of 2 which belies the outwardly bright nature of many of the songs and the cheesily trad imagery.

If Moves shows anything it is that maturity coupled with the cold UK winter months have their compensations.

Schneider TM invites the listener to project their own meanings and sense on these intrusive sounds made beautiful.

Dig deeper and you'll find that Goat has managed to create not just a world of their own, but an album that draws on influences from all over the world.

A moody yet romantic triumph, The Defenestration Of Saint Martin is far better than anyone could hope to expect from a long-dormant Britpop survivor.

The steady pace of mid-tempo tracks might deter some listeners; although there are tinges of mischief, a sudden shift in pace would certainty elevate the listen.

The only caveat with the music of iamamiwhoami is that there is now a lot of R&B influenced electronic pop music around, increasingly from Scandinavia, and it seems to be the 'go to' sound of left of centre pop music in the middle of 2012. The good news for the duo, however, is that their particular take on it puts them right near the front of a crowded field.

His major label debut good kid m.A.A.d city solidifies his burgeoning reputation and stands out as a landmark contemporary hip-hop album.

Greenwood has recorded an eerie yet stunning score, and if Anderson's production is just as aspiring then filmgoers are in for a real treat for the senses.

Half-baked lyrics detract from intelligent and well-executed backing, and as such the album fails to resonate with any of the force that it attempts to muster, despite the odd successful moment.

In this globalised but fragmented world, now so obsessed with immediacy, rapidity and digestibility, Ten Freedom Summers is a visionary work of protest and power.

Perhaps the global impact of the massive Call Me Maybe is what makes the album as a whole feel like a damp squib, but with or without US Marine parody videos, the rest of the album fizzles out into synth-pop oblivion.

For the most part, however, The Female Boss is a cynical and dire product which invites the riposte: Tulisa, you're fired.

The album may start well, but there is very little on the record that will last long in the memory.

Few could deny her vocal talents but you can't help but feel the character that made her stand out in a crowded pop room has been diluted somewhere along the line.

Although there are some memorable moments here, none of them come close to tracks such as Mars or The Dozens.