Prism gives The Orb a youthful complexion, its heady brew of musical ambience, songwriting substance and sample-based humour bringing a hefty dose of positivity. Strongly recommended.

Naysayers may argue that none of the tracks needs to be as long as they are (at 16 minutes and two seconds, We Dream Free is the shortest) but sounds as subtle as these need room to spread out just as a fine wine needs room to breathe.

Crimes Of Passion finds Crocodiles in scintillating form and is full of the kind of carefree rock that should make them more popular than they are.

It’s hard to believe that The Strypes can make such an old-fashioned style of music cool for a younger generation but they give it their best shot in this fully committed album.

This is an album that, once consumed, lies dormant in the mind of the listener, ingrained but not at the forefront, playing in the subconscious; more demanding than background music, but short of immediacy.

Sisyphus is a compositionally superb production that adeptly mixes the members’ unique styles.

In short, this is another very good album.

Brian Eno famously stated that "ambient music must be as ignorable as it is interesting". The problem is that, whilst Regional Surrealism certainly succeeds in providing a pleasant musical backdrop, it is rather more the former than it is the latter.

There does seem something a bit rushed and unfinished about No No No though (which is ironic, given its long gestation period).

Shout it from the rooftops though--with this record, Broken Records could well have a contender for album of the year on their hands.

Like any prospective chartbuster, it frontloads its biggest bangers and lets anything more interesting linger in the later stages of the record, when the more passive listeners have tuned out. But those forays are occasional at best, and as an artistic statement this debut album is somewhat limited.

There’s a lack of maturity on Soft that is at odds with the stellar showmanship that Soft so desperately seeks to demonstrate.

It has some great moments but is probably one to listen to when you want to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

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.

Danger In The Club exudes an appealing spontaneity but frustratingly the songwriting still seems a bit haphazard, with the lyrics in particular remaining underwhelming.

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.

Obviously all is still not perfect in Britney's world, but Circus still does more than enough to remind us of why she's one of the world's most iconic pop stars.

Love Goes wallows too much in its comfort zone to be truly memorable.

When it comes to partaking in pop, MDNA has easily set itself out as 2012's go-to drug of choice.

A debut album of soaring highs and some affecting melancholic soundscapes tempered slightly by just a few forgettable lulls.

Whilst Boats appear more polished, the energetic ramshackle anthem of Great Skulls seems keen to remind everyone that it’s not precision, but feeling that is important.

Yes, Love Undercover does sound a bit different from The Coral’s material, with a more soul and R&B influence, not to mention Merseybeat, but there is nothing particularly distinctive in the music.

It may not be entirely successful, but it could well be looked back on as the acorn from which a bigger tree grew.

The Melodic’s busy, busy style just doesn’t work with non-dynamic mixing. And the album can hurt the ears to the point of irritation.

The only trouble is that the good tracks are matched by the nondescript filler.

Protest Songs is not likely to prove as much as a career renaissance as their last album Encore did, but it’s an interesting and moderately successful little detour from a band who are probably well overdue their ‘national treasure’ title.

There may be nothing on here Funplex that will challenge the likes of Rock Lobster or Love Shack, but Funplex is a consistently brilliant party album from a band that knows the value in simply having a good time.

Tre! is more whimper than bang.

Korn have succeeded in bringing mainstream producers to inject freshness into their songs, without entering into a Faustian bargain and compromising their music.

Comparisons with Older are revealing, for Robbie sounds a bit world weary here at times, and the orchestrations are layered on thickly in an attempt to bring some brightness to the grey. Sometimes this works--with the electro swagger of Bodies a case in point--but other times the colour is a pasty, codeine white.

Three wears its scars where they’re visible, at times this makes for an uncomfortable and uneven listen, but when it clicks, they’re unstoppable.

Music To Be Murdered By succumbs to temptation a few times, with a pop concession here and a lacklustre verse there, but it’s the clearest sign yet that there’s a future for Eminem as well as a legacy.

While at times ¿Cómo Te Llama? might feel as though it's fallen through a timewarp from the late 60s/early 70s, it's not afraid to jump around within this, from raw garage rock to deeper, darker blues.

If you get past the fact that CBV aren’t trying to be radical or cutting edge, or even particularly contemporary, you’ll find a pleasantly undemanding, chilled-out record that’s the perfect soundtrack for all those warm summer evenings we’re crossing our fingers for at the moment.

Once again this is a thought provoking and stimulating listen from Squarepusher, continually developing his style and surprising in his lightness of touch and inclusion of Latin and funk influences.

While a good half of the album demonstrates a genuine songwriting nous, other elements hint at a mere rehashing of old Suede ideas. More's the pity, as the opening three tracks alone are worth the price of admission.

With their second album The Drums are more absorbing than ever, and have created a record that will last far longer than their first.

An uncomplicated and perfectly pleasant record, swirling with some instantly intoxicating '60s inspired pop numbers, Lights Out finds itself running at the same, ultimately tedious pace for 12 songs.

Preacher’s Sigh & Potion finds Dear mostly content with spinning his wheels, but luckily his unique style and vocal delivery make it an enjoyable spinning.

For such an experimental band maybe they could have pushed these remixes further instead of into a no-man's land of accessible. For Battles, this is unchallenging territory.

This is an album that celebrates OMD's electric romanticism as purely as ever, with occasional concessions to house music developments made in a way that flatters their own work, part of an impressive desire to keep their original aesthetic . In that respect, it represents a qualified triumph.

It's a wallflower of an album, pretty, nice, but lacking the inspiration needed to lift it beyond the mundane.

None of it stops you longing after the energy and charm of their debut.

A thoroughly decent album from start to finish.

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.

A missed opportunity, then, but also perhaps the beginnings of a creative resurgence.

For an artist who’s capable of making genre and generation defining records, Deadbeat just simply isn’t good enough. Too much fluff, too many unfinished ideas, too ponderous, too flabby.

While there's nothing particularly wrong with looking to the past for influences, Yucca struggles at times beneath the weight of those it seeks to emulate.

As infectious and riotous as If You're Young might well be, the inescapable reality is that the mass middle isn't walking over hot coals to buy this sort of music at the moment.

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

Fortunately, all these madcap tangents pay off amazingly, and we’re left with a sublime, varied LP that’s a perfect accompaniment to the impending sun-pecked skies.

With too much empty bluster and not enough decent songs, Sam's Town can only be regarded as a step back for The Killers.

Diehard fans of the genre will find that Bass Drum Of Death makes a welcome addition to their playlists, but for the rest of the music world, Rip This may only entertain for a few tracks.

Better than the first two? Course not. Better than the last three? Definitely.

He has talent, he's capable, and he's got a future - there are occasional flashes of creativity-stuffed aptitude - but this time around they're merely flashes.

Head Carrier is a far more coherent album than Indie Cindy though (hardly surprising, as the latter was effectively a group of EPs welded together) and while it may not be a record to inspire the generations as their previous work did, there’s enough evidence that some of that old spark is still flickering.

Working Girl isn’t an album that will stretch boundaries or break new ground--the best tracks are ones that can’t easily be compared to other artists, such as Taste It and Help Too.

On closer inspection and at a suitably stupid volume, however, Preparations rocks and lurches in grand fashion.

While this isn't the daring brave leap forward that was whispered about when Spiralling was released, it will no doubt prove another multi-million seller for the trio from Battle.

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.

The Red Album brings forward everything they do best, with hooks aplenty, emotive and funny lyrics, all washed down with the odd frisson of self doubt. It's a potent mix, and keeps them a step ahead once again.

The spirit of hip hop lives on in N.A.S.A. Investigate this album if you have any taste.

While The Circus will undoubtedly sell bucketloads of copies, it does all become rather samey after a while.

What the Paisley born artist has come up with on Sunny Side Up is baffling.

While Peace does not quite finish on the bang that would have really rounded off a great record, there is no doubt that it reflects the band at their most natural.

A bit more edge would have been good to distinguish this from the wide range of comfy female songwriters out there right now.

Branch’s lyrical savvy and clear communication keep it well clear of the mundane, though you get the recurring impression that she is capable of taking a few more risks.

Complete Strangers is one of those collections where over the course of several listens each song enjoys time as being considered the highpoint of the album only for another track to supplant it soon after. Whisper it, but Vetiver may have just made one of the albums of the year.

Swoon, then, is a mixed listening experience, with the solemnity and over-seriousness of the general tone and the occasionally grating nature of that voice being more or less mitigated by some lovely melodies and first-rate guitar riffs.

Not only do the sparse arrangements allow Eastburn to enchant with her siren like singing, but also, they allow the listener to become ensnared in the song.

Wooden Arms, on the other hand, bears the sound of something far more collaborative and just that little bit more complete. Our refound love for musical vanguards should therefore also extend to Patrick Watson.

It is perhaps slightly too long and lacks anything as thrilling as Drop The Other, but it nevertheless represents Emika as a fascinating artist with immeasurable promise.

Fandango quickly plateaus into an exercise that is pleasant rather than provocative; an effort that, despite occasional highs, is relentlessly...acceptable.

Like 99% of all other Christmas albums, this will be mostly redundant come 27th December, but if you’re looking for a rather glum festive alternative to the usual Christmas fare, it’s worth checking out.

Pacific Daydreams certainly doesn’t achieve the grandiose aims from the aforementioned inspiring proverb. That said, thankfully it is still a solid record which should satisfy fans.

The later half is really rather spectacularly ace, in an unexpectedly grandiose way.

Listening to the album as a whole, it's satisfyingly compact, a neatly produced record with stand-out tracks and growers.

Joyful and experimental in equal measure, Fluorescence is an album that challenges you without you even realising.

Sure, like much of the album, Rihanna is mining her past glories all over again, but she does it with such swagger, such enthusiasm, that the end result is a definitive thrill-ride of a success.

If C,XOXO’s creative team (El Guincho, Jasper Harris et al) intended to trigger a resurgence of popularity for the former Fifth Harmony member then they have singularly failed, but they’ve certainly helped Cabello stand out in the crowd of female popstars releasing albums this year.

It may not have the instant appeal of To Lose A Life, but the combination of the running narrative and a host of memorable hooks make it their most consistent record to date.

Snark aside, it's a shame that aside from a couple of notable exceptions, the album title is just about right.

It too often sounds like a diluted version of what’s gone before, a collection that struggles to reach the highs of old.

Pretty, but ultimately uneven record.

It's this flitting between moments of brilliance and sections of dainty sounding but ultimately rather tedious meandering that defines the album.

With the recent break up of Girls, there is certainly an opportunity for Jaill to take the mantle of derivative, vintage pop rock, but they are not quite there yet.

Their seeming insanity only adds to the magic.

Despite the clear-cut influences, Airbourne sound like they just want to rock and have fun in the process of making music to play live. Like Motorhead, this is a band that should be seen in all its headbangin', hair raisin' glory to be fully appreciated.

Vicissitude is such a wispy, bloodless record that it’s hard to find anything to recommend about it.

Jaws have created an album that should see them breaking away from B-Town, heading for sunnier climes and finding themselves.

Kubrick is an ambitious project, but one that works just perfectly as a showcase for the wonderful songwriting and compositional skills of Machin and Glover. It proves, as if it were ever in doubt, that their strength lies not in the skills of their collaborators, but in their music and ideas.

As good as it occasionally gets on I Hear You, the continuously tuneless wail of the vocals are likely to be where the record either succeeds or fails, depending on how much emphasis the listener puts on the vocal element and whether or not they can see past the often painful experience. If only Mr Birdsong had been given lead vocal duties instead.

Too often, the same formula appears with uninspiring choruses being too frequent; whilst these short, sharp bursts of fuzzy punk sound great in small doses, this collection will probably find itself confined to the shelf before long, as its longevity may be questionable with little poppy catchiness present.

Ultimately, Blue Film is a decent, enjoyable album that hints at Hemerlein’s undoubted talent whilst never pulling up too many trees.

In buying in so emphatically into a US pop/soul template, Stone has effectively erased what made her so intriguing in the first place.

Pretty, simple songs which nevertheless were absolutely littered with hooks.

His verses mostly feel redundant, hastily thrown together to validate the presence of these songs on his project, and while the album has been described as introspective this very brief release only allows for skindeep thoughts on any one topic. The Kanye West show has already rolled on, but some of the magic of yesteryear has been left behind.

There’s obviously still an audience for Muse, given by the size of the venues they still sell out, and this will definitely please the die-hards, but most of Simulation Theory simply fizzles out without leaving much of an impression.