Generally though, World Wide Pop is full of inventive, bold pop music – sometimes sugary sweet like the acoustic led Crushed.zip, and sometimes big and anthemic such as the CHAI and Pi Ja Ma collaboration Teenager. And, as ever with Superorganism, it’s never, ever boring.

Although there are times when they misfire, this is a startling first effort from the band.

Here Ride aren’t just treading water so much as striking out for the horizon.

However, this album feels like it marks the beginning of a return of form, and it's great to hear his voice again on tunes that don't make you work to the point of sufferance to get any enjoyment out of.

[Cellist Alexandra Lawn's] expressive and engaging vocal contribution on You And I Know--along with its woozy, waltzy rhythms and shoegazey guitars--make this the only truly memorable song to be found on this otherwise disappointingly, frustratingly ephemeral collection.

They've succeeded in making an album that does well to second-guess its listener, whilst never disowning the sound that first brought Greene to the foreground. "Chillwave" might be dead and buried, but Washed Out has only just set foot in the water.

In contrast to their previous record, on which they felt the need to dress up as some sort of 'shadow band' straight out of Disneyland for the sake of getting a message that got lost amongst the bombast and OTT nature of their sound, this is a refreshing change.

It gets on with the job in hand, never short changing the listener, and in the process providing a valuable insight into one of pop music’s great creative minds in the process.

There’s no doubting that The Ridge is a good album, but sometimes the supporting players don’t quite compliment Neufeld’s compositions as well as they might.

The band are far from fans of modern pop and their twisted take on the genre continues to beguile and enchant in equal measure, but the ideas never overwhelm their fourth album. As a result, their return sees them get back to something like their captivating best.

It’s been well worth the wait. It’ll probably a while yet before his main band are back in action, so in the meantime, Earth should fill that gap.

While Roots & Echoes has some ace moments, it steps back from the brink of insanity in a way they've never done before.

Could very well be one of the soundtracks to the summer, with their heavy use of percussion setting them apart from other similar Brooklyn acts. Unfortunately, there are times when Manifest! feels muddled.

Labyrinthes is a jubilant album of experimental indie pop that hold ups to the scrutiny of constant plays. You may not have an idea of what's being sung, but it's a great album which easily transcends the language barrier.

All in all, this is an odd, but certainly not unlikeable, package of songs.

We already knew he was a talented composer and producer, but Wolf suggests he now may just be the finished article.

There are enough moments on here to convince that Woon is a very special talent.

Smart and funny. Bold and layered. Witty and affecting. Roll on the next reinvention.

Acousmatic Sorcery won't propel Beal to Lana Del Rey levels of fame ... it's too weird, too spooky, too idiosyncratic for that. For those who do connect with Beal's gloriously skewed vision though, you're in for a treat.

If they only had slightly better tunes, the temptation to highlight the supposedly novel elements of their act might prove easier to resist.

This is an album of largely superfluous material, made only to exorcise some creativity.

When We Stay Alive is an illusion of a record but, once explored, an apparently endless labyrinth unfurls.

This is a perfectly OK record: no more, no less.

Musically there is little to remember, lyrically some of this is challenging to forget. For a 19-year wait, this is a mild payoff indeed.

That Lucky Old Sun is a brave but failed attempt to add a new chapter to the ongoing story of a pop legend.

Let Me Come Home is a very straight faced record, yet for all of its apparently bleak subject matter; it is an album that revels in the restorative healing power of music and song. It is also beautifully written and performed and deserves to be up there with this year's best.

It's taken a while to get here, but Ultraviolet finally introduces a fresh talent who may not have too much to say just yet, but what's going on in the background goes some way to making up for such deficiencies.

Cope as a whole is a valuable addition to Manchester Orchestra’s ongoing canon.

In the end, the repeated invocation of booze, drugs and sugar betrays a semi-permanence, with Welcome The Worms feeling like more of a quick fix despite some effective catharsis, and it’s disappointing that a band held in high esteem for their live energy have yet to fully realise that on record. That doesn’t dull the album’s instant charm, however.

It’s unlikely there was any desperate clamour for a new Ratatat album during the duo’s prolonged absence from the scene. Nevertheless, Magnifique is a nice reminder of the band’s command of their tiny, unfashionable corner of the music world.

As Getting Back Up rides out the album on the back of some more glorious brass melodies, it proves that not many make pop music that leaps off the page so high and vividly as The Go! Team.

It's not all bad, but there's no getting away from the fact the main problem with this lifeless debut is Elkington's voice.

It is an oddly affecting and [Dark Destiny is] a neat way to close out an album that, despite dropping the odd clanger, pillages the '80s with considerable style.

It won't be a surprise with such an approach that The Body of Christ... has its weaker moments, but it almost seems to miss the point to care. Fight Like Apes delight in their own cackhanded methods, and the odd sloppy sample or laughable lyric are merely grist to their deliberately anarchic mill.

Yet after this strong opening half, the album struggles to maintain the same level of interest over the uneasy feel of Second Nature and the dramatic distant pianos and glitchy noises of Easy.

Ray sounds rather like a lot of other people, but nothing really makes her stand out.

Despite the band's relapse into '90s Grunge, Sirens vaunts the odd track that testifies to the band's invetiveness.

As a stand-alone piece, it is unremarkable, and even A Violent Sky--the beautiful and wistful closing track--can’t redeem it entirely.

Division Street finds Simon in the midst of finding his own voice.

At times Lightning Dust produce some sublime moments on Fantasy but there are too few of these to warrant repetitive plays of the album as a whole.

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.

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.

Lion City is a strong, viscerally stirring album and a true highlight of intercultural awareness in the contemporary music climate.

The noisy production doesn’t fall into the trappings of obfuscation, and with more adventures in the world, Dub Thompson should iron out the flaws of their debut into a more conceptually realised sound.

It really is a shame that the production is so muddled, because Soon Away has some incredible moments that are marred by the sheer inability of the fidelity to convey what GRMLN and Park are feeling.

It will take a few spins to fully appreciate it--the songs are not always compelling in the way that they should be--but there’s plenty of proof that they have uncovered a bit more depth, both musically and lyrically.

The nature of the album seems to suggest added advantages in possibly listening to it at the extremes of the day, whether early in the morning or late at night, being infused with a palpable sense of recoiling and retreat.

This is a pleasant diversion for Whitney fans waiting for a follow-up to Forever Turned Around, and if it has the side-effect of directing people to the hitherto undiscovered treats of the likes of The Roches, Jurado and Moondog, then so much the better.

It is not instantly recognisable as Groove Armada, but it shows how the pair have moved on from constant festival sets and gigs to managing farms in France, as Andy Cato now does. Clearly they still want to have a good time, but the stress is now on music that feels older than it does new.

We have already seen Ladyhawke’s penchant for writing the perfect pop song and hitting the highs, but now we know a lot more about the voice behind that craft. Because of that, Time Flies is her best album yet.

Invisible Forces is a deliberately minimal affair, as even formal notation is eschewed in favour of an intuitive musical journey, and if this makes the album repetitive it will surely still be put on repeat by fans of this sort of thing.

Making a value judgement on Amelia is a tricky business, it being as immediate as undiluted Ribena. However, the album knows what it wants to do and pursues this with relentless efficiency.

As a complete album [it] lacks any depth or cogency.

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

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.

These aren’t bad song ideas per se, but the record as a whole becomes cloying through an overload of syrupy chords and Common stuck on motivational speaker mode.

The music on Hippies is formulaic, but in their ability to work so perfectly within a rigid aesthetic, Harlem hint at real songwriting ability.

If you’re hankering for a bit of masochistic pop, Mirrors The Sky will soothe the craving. And then destroy you.

He certainly manages to squeeze a lot of words in to this mercilessly concise album. Sometimes the results are touching, sometimes they are perplexing.

Throughout the record, Steve Mackey's production shimmers both warmly and vibrantly, sounding at once like a throwback from the 1980s and futuristic.

Fans of the band will love it--but anyone looking for a return to the good old days when albums were invested with tender loving care will want to hear it too.

The promise is unquestionable but the songs and melodies aren’t memorable; this is hopefully all part of the transformation and something that will develop as they enter the next stage of their intriguing growth.

Pink Friday 2 is very much a grab-bag of a record, its 32-minute version sounding no more coherent than the 70-minute version that was released on streaming. But if the best songs sustain her legacy, Nicki Minaj will most likely see it as mission accomplished.

They've managed to inject 15 punk songs with youthful energy and just enough variety to keep things interesting, crafting a goofy, yet determined record.

For all their individual talents and collective intentions, The Little Willies just don't measure up to the greats they invoke.

As a product that needs to sell it fits the bill perfectly - there are at least five potential top ten singles here--but as an album, the whole thing feels precision tooled, vacuum-packed and strangely lifeless.

The production is highly polished and everything appears to be utterly disposable.

With The People's Key, he continues to solidify his place as one of the great songwriters of his generation. Here's hoping he doesn't hang it up anytime soon.

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

The album is far from a lost cause. Sometimes, Two Lucky Magpies, Over And Out and the Bibio-esque titular instrumental are all lovely. But The Boombox Ballads annoys almost as much as it entertains.

Kids In LA lays its cards on the table and, whilst at times too polished for its own good, it boasts enough songs to justify a few spins at least.

Fans of Jones's solo work may find For The Good Times a bit too country for their taste, but anyone who was won over by their debut will find a lot more to love about this new outing.

You might cringe at some of the words, and you certainly wouldn’t play them to your young kids or their elderly nanna, but everyone in-between might just turn enough of a blind eye and enjoy Pop Voodoo for what it fundamentally is: an enjoyable trip of danceable funk.

Once again the theme of emotional cleansing runs through much of the lyrics, though this particular well of inspiration has not yet run dry.

Running For The Drum has a lot to offer, and is sure to stand out as one of 2009's more rewarding oddities.

There’s certainly a lot to take in on Ben Howard’s fourth album – not all the ideas work in fairness, and there’s a few too many moments which feel like half-sketched ideas. Yet Dessner makes a decent foil for him and for those who have joined Howard on his career journey to date will be more than happy to continue travelling with him.

The album occasionally forces longing for something more grounded in sobering reality, but it's the romantic view of France that it exudes which will capture the hearts of those from these isles.

Overall, Tomorrow Morning is a good, but far from great, record.

It’s full of perfectly fine sunny pop songs, but few tracks really stand out.

Rostrum is probably destined to stay a cult interest for now, but if you’re looking for dance music with a pulse and a brain, then she’s guaranteed to be your new jam.

Taken in its entirety, it doesn't offer enough variety or dynamics to warrant repeat listens.

Ghostory, rather than resting on the laurels of the band's successful sound up to this point, adds a harder edge to the rhythm and consciously moves on a step.

In this day and age, though, people would be better off cherry picking the best tracks for download.

Point Of Go is a decent, albeit flawed, transition album.

The Haim sisters are back with Something To Tell You, a big, brash, bold pop record which has rather more depth than some might expect.

This is a truly astonishing effort; a crowdpleaser and a call to arms--now let's go and change the world.

Death Cab For Cutie aren’t changing any time soon, and Thank You For Today is another reliable if unsurprising missive from a band who seem to be settling into middle age comfortably.

The world doesn't need another Elton John album, but it's heartwarming to hear an old-timer knock out such an emotional, pathos-filled document of lost loves and ageing friendships.

Prince is at his best when his music is unmistakably his. Half of the tracks on 3121 could not have been made by anyone else, but the slushy R&B ballads are not amongst them.

This new direction from Tussle will disappoint some older fans, but it's going to reel in plenty of new ones. Time and patience are both required, but this album is worth plenty of both.

Splashh have done what their equally fresh-faced contemporaries have tried to do: make an exciting debut.

For the first six songs, the whole thing is as exhilarating as Is This It?, it's in a different way, undoubtedly, but there's the same giddy rush of excitement.

So Tim Burgess still has attitude, the kind we saw on One To Another but one that doesn't surface all that often in Charlatans songs.

At its best Intimacy is taut and claustrophobic or movingly sentimental, but for the main part it is repetitious and bafflingly poorly realised, especially given that they could have had an extra six months to work on it.

However, dark and compelling though MU.ZZ.LE undoubtedly is, there is the niggling sense that this greater focus and narrow tempo range doesn't really suit Gonjasufi.

Unlike other overhyped albums that have achieved similar fame, Making Mirrors is the real deal.

This is a staggering record, displaying not only a golden streak of songwriting but also a band newly energised to their cause - making it a return to form of near biblical proportions. Highly recommended.

his is a very heavy listen but with enough subtle dynamic changes to keep it interesting and fresh and proof that there is still plenty of life left in a genre that will, at some point or another, burst into life.