Spokes have certainly left a little room for improvement. It must be a good omen though, to produce something good and suggest at something great.

In Search Of Elusive Little Comets is a lean, provocative and utterly enjoyable statement of intent, and belated confirmation that Little Comets, having proven their ability to defy pigeonholing by deftly handling a multitude of diverse musical elements and influences, are a genuine proposition to behold.

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.

Let England Shake, Harvey's first solo album since 2007's White Chalk, is a brutal, often difficult and always unflinching look at what terrible things happen to people when nations fight each other.

Some good moments then, but overall Funeral Party fail to keep the energy levels up.

Mike Skinner seems to have produced a funny, sad, emotional, honest album to rank up there with his very finest work, making us fall in love with him all over again, just as he leaves us.

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.

You and I may die, but we can all rest easy in the knowledge that not only shall hardcore never die, but neither shall Mogwai. Long live the kings of post-rock noise.

Hercules have furthered their ambitions on Blue Songs, drawing more of the late-great disco scene into a modern vehicle. Yet it's an album that does many things well but nothing to perfection.

This album will prove to be as addictive listening come the end of the year as it is right now.

The whole project is overproduced and overly slick, stripping the nuance out of the hymnal nature of the music, music that should be allowed to breathe so that it can shine.

Theirs is an easily digestible, less angst-ridden take on grunge, with a fizzing, infectious youthfulness to it. Definitely one to keep a close eye on this year.

The Big Roar has been some time in coming, but it has been well worth the wait. This could finally be The Joy Formidable's year.

Full of lyrical and musical contradictions, such as the exhortation to 'join the revolution' in Yang Yang, it isn't exactly rabble rousing - but has a strange allure nonetheless.

There are times when it feels a bit prescribed; dream-pop by numbers. But when they're at their best Sun Airway have a knack of perfectly balancing melancholy with intelligence and brutal honesty.

With a lack of tunes to come back for, maybe it would have become a better record if they weren't so focused on stardom and the charts.

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

In an age where musicians are constantly looking toward a more futuristic sound to portray their craft, The Greenhornes are living proof that looking back is sometimes the best bet.

Violet Cries isn't an easy album to get into, and it may well prove too impenetrable for the casual listener. They may not signal a Goth revival, but there's enough promise here to justify keeping an eye on this Brighton trio.

Seefeel is nowhere near the mountainous masterpiece of BoC's best records, but it's pulled off with a respectable professionalism. Richard D James would be proud.

Bella is a decent album, but one that is more likely to attract appreciative nods than the slap-me-on-the-patio lust that Thompson needs to raise his career to the next level.

A genre defining release and a welcome return to boundary surfing music.

The album is certainly easy to listen to but it could do with a bit more of the focus, directness and urgency of the band's EP. Perhaps, then Surf City will get the kudos they are looking for.

Here, we've got an album that kind of sums up Yorn's journey; this scruffy batch of songs is as exciting as anything Yorn's done in the last decade.

It's another step nearer the masterpiece this band are increasingly capable of delivering.

For those intransigent souls, there will always those three EPs to listen to. Everyone else can feel free to luxuriate in the wintry delights of this fine record.

Rolling Blackouts' essential problem is that The Go! Team has not found one meaningful way to evolve their sound past their critical-darling debut.

21 really is one of the great 'break-up' albums, and the first truly impressive record of 2011. Here is a timely reminder that British soul hasn't lost its mojo.

Mars has quite remarkably extracted themes from every one of those shows [The X-Factor], incorporating each into his debut, from glossy, over-sentimental ballads (Talking To The Moon) to an all-out, shameless dispatching of joy (Marry Song).

Some of the experiments here may work better than others in the long term, but it is far better that Beam is an artist prepared to take risks. His best work may be yet to come, while his writing remains vivid and evocative.

Live On Ten Legs captures 18 brilliant moments in the history of one of rock 'n' roll's most consistent bands.

A few of the tracks have a moment, usually a chorus, that you might want to play back a few times. But like Editors, taken as an album there's nothing unique, rewarding, or even merely engaging enough to be worthy of another spin.

Ventriloquizzing is a real night time album, and should be enjoyed as such--just don't expect an abundance of melodic pop hooks and you'll return for repeat prescriptions.

Social Distortion still hit as hard as they ever did - barring the obvious newfound musical influences. Anyone not yet convinced by Social Distortion probably won't find new evidence for greatness here, but for longtime fans, the six-year wait is more than worth it.

When Blunt sticks to playing it safe, he offends the least. And whilst it seems contrived to applaud an artist for sticking to his zone, this man is an exceptional case.

The Party Ain't Over may well be dogged by obvious comparisons with Van Lear Rose, but Jackson's effort deserves to be judged on its own terms. Whilst the results are mixed, its best moments are captivating.

Red Barked Tree is a proud and unapologetic album; as it shifts between sounds there's conviction in every noise and word. It's the sound of a band still having a lot of fun. And there's not an ounce of nostalgia.

On an album that clocks in at only a little over half an hour, the band's fight against the dark forces would seem to be one that they've come out the better from.

Enough of Valhalla Dancehall's moments work surprisingly well, that despite its breadth and occasionally aggravating density, it becomes a spectacle worth experiencing.

The album may not be as majestic, but it's certainly a lot more real.

The songs in this collection serve for a timely reminder that hope and consciousness through music still contains some currency - with the added bonus that it's also a fine piece of work in its own right.

$O$ is mostly forgettable, not working as either a comedy piece or as actual, you know, music

All of this makes Metallic Spheres warm and fluffy, nowhere near as cold as its name suggests, but ultimately it's worth little more than a warm smile, bringing together the favourite comedown musician of the late '80s/early '90s with the stoners' favourite of the decade before, but not really doing anything with the opportunity.

Nevertheless anyone wishing to appreciate not simply the overwhelming skill of a drummer at the very top of his game, but also one of the cleverest, best-constructed, most arresting releases of the year, should certainly pay this album a visit.

Elton and Russell, having come together for The Union, have made an album that delivers as a confident enmeshing of their talents

New Chain is unmistakably chillwave, undeniably fashionable within the American music scene right now, but doesn't half make you yearn for a bit of sunshine.

Whilst Living Proof is very much the blues, Buddy Guy's solos give this a rawness that swells with discord, and the result feels more akin to the avant-garde guitar days of Sonic Youth and Shellac.

Pritchard is a revelation, and someone of real songwriting talent, not just a mere lucky soul who got picked up on the streets by Presley and told that she had the looks and just needed to supply the talent. This is a pop star who knows her roots and knows where they may take her.

It might not be the explosion many were hoping for, but Progress sees Take That exploring and experimenting.

The music has a thoughtful, reflective quality in spite of its brevity. Popp claims he is not an "anti-musician", and given the lush, enveloping atmosphere of much of O, his claim seems fair. He is, however, very much anti-convention.

Barn Owl are adept at handling their equipment though, and have crafted a sound world in which the effects are essentially instruments themselves. It's an impressively broad palette too--whilst this music is undoubtedly slow to unfold and demands considerable patience from the listener, it does not feel one-dimensional or short on ideas.

While it's admirable that they're supporting indie label Bright Antenna, their songs run like sold-out singles with all the real hooks replaced with lesser ones. The annoying screaming that Lopez completely misuses comes off manufactured and whiny.

If there's a bundle of stereotypes preceding any singer-songwriter of Scandinavian extraction, it surely includes the following: glacial beauty, whispery vocals, tenderly picked guitars and perhaps a touch of glockenspiel or synth. Silje Nes's second album Opticks delivers all of the above, but that doesn't diminish its thoughtful loveliness.

All this adds up to a qualified success, but it will certainly split opinion among his fans.

Lewis has made a striking debut that delights in the most surprising of ways.

It's not everyone who can give Slim Shady a run for his money, but Minaj more than holds her own here, sounding both menacing and cartoon-like and even dropping into an approximation of a cockney accent at one point.

The Promise is what got left behind, and the quality of these 21 songs serves to remind the listener how brilliant Darkness On The Edge Of Town really was, and how discerning its craftsmen must have been to leave so much in the dust.

It doesn't have any pretenses about being great and achieves in the most basic way possible: by being impeccably organized, well-sung, and well-written, with not an ounce of filler in sight.

Body Talk shows just how easily she can churn out hits more frequently than labels can process production teams.

Musically, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is a nice blend of Kanye's older and newer styles.

One of the most eagerly awaited soundtrack albums for years is a laudable success, provided you approach it in the right way. It might not give up its treasures immediately, but if you provide widescreen sound or a pair of expensive headphones, the sonic treats are considerable and mighty.

If The Black Eyed Peas want to sing, dance and rap about having good nights and getting laid, that's fine; but expecting a discerning audience to buy this bottle-rocket crap as an album is pure delusion. If they're truly trying to achieve more, The Beginning is a pretty awful start.

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.

Endlessly is like many successors to huge-selling albums: the attempts to break with the artist's trademark sound are tentative, and the result is a record that hedges its bets to only limited success.

Not all the singing is charged in this light but the moments of unabashed, emotional melodies are akin to that of the endearing two-piece garage rockers, Japandroids - and in a world of indifference, it's a refreshing change.

While Violens draw from strong influences, they capture their potency only fleetingly. Amoral is a worthwhile listen, with stand out tracks that hold much promise. As yet, though, there's too much that leaves you, like that promise, unfulfilled.

Rihanna's latest collection Loud is another sure fire assault on the charts and airwaves. It highlights exactly the best and worst of today's pop aesthetic.

There's no doubting that sounds are placed together, weaved and treated expertly and Small Craft On A Milk Sea can, save its more aggressive moments, flow over and around you therapeutically.

Despite its unprepossessing title, Not Music is put together as meticulously as any Stereolab album released during the band's 18 years of service.

This may be Toth's strongest and most immediately engaging work so far. As ever with an artist as untamed as Toth, it's far from a complete picture.

While a few of its tracks are below par, The Constant is a decent first effort. It doesn't put her head and shoulders above the many other female singer-songwriters kicking around at the moment, but it definitely sets her apart from them.

Perhaps National Ransom is less a randomly selected almanac, and more a series of vignettes that could potentially have relevance to any particular time and space. Costello is, inventively, trying to make musical antiquarianism a radical pursuit.

Instead of recycling the catchy tunes of his '80s heydays, Lewis has gone back to his roots, delving straight into the Stax Records catalogue. Welcome to Soulsville.

WYWH should be played seasonally to stoke the nostalgic embers of summers past, for it's as equally hazy and precious as the memories it depicts.

Not a bad effort, but we've come to expect more.

As a whole, Dreams is a bleak affair, Diamond sounding often forlorn and beaten, most notably on a morose, slowed down reimagining of his own 1966 tune, I'm A Believer, which became The Monkees' biggest success.

Fans of Animal Collective and Panda Bear will obviously love this album; another creative triumph for the boys from Baltimore.

There are certainly things to enjoy here, but too often Steeple is searching for its soul. It's a soul that will probably forever be caught in a bygone time.

With its insipid, limp first half this is most certainly not the record to do it. The listening experience is made all the more irritating and frustrating given the sudden improvement in the final third of the record, but no part of it will ever be described as life changing or world-shattering.

While not perfect, The Fool is a very promising début that grows in stature on every listen. If you're willing to put the time in, this could easily live up to the hype.

Partly cartoon, part Sesame Street, and with a healthy dose of consequence-free childish threats and violence, A Cold Freezin' Night is a welcome distraction to the meandering electro-drone that populates the rest of the album. But from here on in, it's a case of the law of diminishing returns.

It's good to see Belle and Sebastian back, but let's hope their next album sees a positive progression as opposed to more of the same.

Pierce is clearly most comfortable when working in hybrid idioms that challenge preconceived indie-rock formats. When he is operating within those very constraints, the results are far less exciting. Luckily, this album tends to favour his natural operating zone.

Olympia is a rich, soulful immersive album; and a terrific return to songwriting form.

It is, without a doubt, the work of a superstar returning from the shadows.

Particularly impressive is that the music never feels incoherent or thrown together. The band always, somehow, emerge with a compelling and coherent voice, albeit a strange and often dark one.

There are some interesting topics explored, such as Darkest Place's prayer to a God that he now longer believes in, but compared to Plan B's gritty early raps about teenage life, it pales somewhat in comparison.

Verve tracks such as Northern Soul and This Time were surprisingly successful attempts at funk. But the similar fusions attempted on United Nations Of Sound are so poorly executed that the album has to go down as a pompous, self-indulgent rock folly.

Collins has created a work full of effortless songs that meld '60s pop, new wave cool and classic tunes that are uplifting and surprisingly catchy.

She may have cut a slightly different path than she hinted at on Dead Flowers, but make no mistake: Caitlin Rose is the best thing to come out of Nashville in a long damn time.

Unfairly or otherwise, Lights will be consumed by many with the weight of expectation hanging heavy around it. For the most part, the strength of the songwriting should keep the doubters at bay.

It seems that the first principles that got Aeroplane their quality remixes--a real sense of atmosphere, and slow disco-house beats that might be regarded as 'cosmic' in some circles--are only fleetingly glimpsed. Deluca has proved that he can comfortably write in a number of different styles of music--but on the next record it might work better to stick to the ones he has truly mastered.

It's maybe a little older and a little wiser than Junior but it just isn't anywhere near as much fun.

This music is at the core of what he does and has informed his musical language throughout his career. The fact that he manages to breathe new life into melodies as overplayed and hoary as What A Wonderful World or as complex and beautiful as Lush Life is triumph enough in itself.

Put this album on in the background and the chances are it will create a nice chilled atmosphere; but that's it, really. And that's disappointing. There's no denying that Eskmo's construction methods are intriguing, but it lacks coherence.

Kings Of Leon's newfound pop sensibilities often feel at odds with their southern-rock instincts, and while this may result in fewer immediately recognisable radio hits, it makes for a largely enjoyable batch of surprisingly invigourated tunes from one of American rock's most unlikely mainstays.

With The Age Of Adz, Stevens may simply be trying too hard.

Hegarty's fourth album strictly follows the template laid down by his previous records: fragile, sombre and wistful, always dominated by that extraordinary tremulous voice, seemingly forever on the brink of bursting into tears.