They're bright, breezy, accomplished and catchy, indie-pop at its best.

How good is A Weekend In The City? At times, it's brilliant: bold, forthright and honest.

So, an unexpected turn from our commentator on urban squalor with this dreamlike, abstract paean to Mother Nature and the great outdoors.

Think Belle and Sebastian or a touch of Aberfeldy and take that east over the North Sea to Sweden, adding exquisite touches of orchestration and a touch more wistfulness as you go, and you have a rough template for the sound of Loney Dear.

Perhaps if each song were half the length, the fun, easy-listening element to PBJ's music would be more clear-cut. As it is, Writer's Block proves a real struggle.

Pop music needed saving and in Lily Allen we've found just the woman to do it.

This album is too much of a mess to be seen as a worthy follow-up to such a great debut.

This collection of quaint, feel-good numbers is not going to set the world alight, but it offers something warm and comforting to come home to.

A brightly uplifting record.

In a scene saturated with predictable guitar bands Clinic are a refreshing alternative, pleasingly unhinged and resolutely refusing to conform to type.

Their calmest album to date.

This is possibly not an album for those wanting immediate hooks and satisfaction, but it's a remarkable achievement and more proof - if any were needed - that Albarn is one of the most innovative and talented songwriters of his generation.

It's much less forthright and immediate than Inverted or Chutes, but it succeeds in spinning a web that draws you in; once caught you just want to lie back and absorb its gentle bounce.

Not as endearingly obviously pop or as chilled out as their debut, The Enemy Chorus takes some getting used to before it unfurls it pleasures.

A rich and rewarding album from an artist who - thankfully - keeps on evolving in subtle and exciting ways.

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

The trouble is that in the two years since Love Angel Music Baby she doesn't seem to have moved on or evolved at all.

Fans who have been frustrated with recent output will be able to find a lot to like here.

Breaking Kaytabe is without a doubt one of the most impressive releases you'll hear all year, regardless of genre.

The album doesn't reach the heights of the seminal Black Album but is an exciting opener to a hectic schedule for Def Jam.

Love could only have been made by someone who knew this music inside out, who has nurtured, cherished and polished it since the day it was composed, who saw its potential in an era when pushing rock'n'roll past it boundaries was a new art form.

The whole of Entomology should open new ears and eyes to Josef K's thrilling, scraping, clattering greatness.

Trail of Dead appear to have dropped the noise, and bought out the tunes.

The Cat is back, albeit more of a moonshadow of his former self and lacking some purr and bite.

Overall, Rice has produced a release which equals and perhaps even surpasses his debut, a album that takes you through emotional highs and lows you are unlikely to hear anywhere else this winter.

Whereas their first album hit the mark perfectly, The Pick of Destiny swings wildly and misses.

An album of searching grace and innocence, this is the voice of ancient souls portrayed through the medium of a true indie heroine.

If a classic pop album is something that defines the moment, is rammed with ideas and necessarily crammed with singles, then Lady Sov's cracked it first time out.

This is such a great, great record for so many reasons.

Part of the problem is that faced with a performer as low-fi and minimal as Conor Oberst in the first place, many of the unfinished demos presented here, such as I Will Be Grateful This Day and Seashell Tale, sound much, much too thin.

All too often Rudebox plays like an undeveloped collection of half-baked ideas.

While this makes for pleasant enough listening, we know that Damon Gough can do a lot better than pleasant.

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.

A cracking album that holds its own for almost the entire duration.

They've come a million miles from their earlier recordings.

There are gospel singers, there are elements of Zepplin'y mysticism, and there are swampy Cajun tinged bits, but nothing hides the fact that it's too little too late.

A blindingly bright future beckons.

Fun, fresh and (mainly) utterly listenable, The Information is the most diverse and, at times, thrilling album you'll hear all year.

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

It should be an overblown, riotous mess, but it's perfectly held together by musicians seemingly forged as one by long nights in spit and sawdust boozers, and in singer Craig Finn, a lyricist of remarkable poise and eloquence.

This is a fine second volume... serving further notice of DFA's production talent.

Their best album to date.

The Open Door is an exercise in how not to make a sophomore album (or any album for that matter).

[Jet] are making a career out of sounding like a Small Faces tribute band covering The Beatles in the style of Oasis.

A collection of gentle, sun-kissed pop guaranteed to be easy on the ears.

A quintessential collection of the kind of subtle contrasts and ambiguity that makes her such a fascinating songwriter.

If there were any criticism to be leveled at this album, it's that it is a little bland around the edges.

Whilst retaining the heartfelt beauty of his debut album, it is the subjects tackled on Love And Other Planets and the experimentation with which this is done that really shows Adem is reaching for the stars.

There's a darker lyrical side to the album at once incongruous and ingenius when placed in such celebratory music.

There are no earth-shattering changes to Linkous' studio-warped rock 'n' roll pastoralism. As there was nothing broken on previous Sparklehorse outings, there is little in need of fixing.

Tired Of Hanging Around is as delightfully quirky, original and catchy as its predecessor, whilst also representing something of a leap forward.

This is a fascinating record that will initially bewilder, but rewards repeated listens.

Sometimes moody, sometimes optimistic, this doesn’t feel sure of what it wants to be and instead feels a little like an Air outtakes album.

All in all, The Hidden Cameras are typical of the avant garde, slightly off-kilter art rock we've come to expect from Canada, not a million miles away from what's being offered by fellow countrymen The Decemberists or Broken Social Scene.

It is better than the eponymous debut, although not to the level that their self-satisfaction with it would suggest, and there is still a distinct lack of consistency and a feeling that occasionally while you can see who and what they're aiming at, they miss quite considerably.

[An] understated but epic album.

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.

While far from immaculate, Cookie Mountain is the logical progression from Desperate Youth, with its conception fruit enough for those who appreciate musical innovation.

For all the colour and flair apparent on Crazy Itch Radio, and despite some genuine gems... a reliance on production and arrangement where some more killer tunes would have worked more memorably is, perhaps, an indication that the Jaxx have, down the years, simply set the bar high.

One moment I feel like I am listening to Underworld's frantic blast combined with the Blue Nile's slowly evolving elegance, the next it could be The Pet Shop Boys' sailing in the slip stream of Depeche Mode. I can't nail down the sound beyond the fact that it's breathtaking.

It's likely that the first couple of times you hear it, it may just wash over you completely. Yet give it a few plays and Mayer's unique ability to reflect on the human condition cannot fail to charm.

There's going to be a coronation very soon, and anyone who cares to invest will be handsomely rewarded by the future king.

Yo La Tengo have nothing left to prove and this allows them the room and scope to simply showcase their talents, which are many and admirable as well as being both under-exposed and under-appreciated.

As the album progresses, it becomes harder and harder to distinguish between one song and the next.

Switzerland lacks any track with even a tenth of the standout potential of Danger! High Voltage. And it's a critical absence for Switzerland, because there's nothing on this record that makes you want to hear it a second time.

Peyroux is a wonderful singer and this collection of songs is her best yet.

A surprisingly intimate, thought provoking and occasionally startling listen.

At the end of it all, you realise there's really nothing here.

Stupid, clichéd, utterly ridiculous for sure, but done with so much pizazz that you can't help but fall for its charms.

With Idlewild you get a sumptuous surface that constantly excites, but reveals its secret charms with repeated listenings.

It's those lyrics that make much of this second album such a disappointment.

Are they a country band playing alt.rock or an alt.rock band playing country? These questions are pointless. They are simply and sublimely Lambchop, and we are lucky to have them.

It's a rare thing to find an album that is a real, unexpected pleasure to listen to all the way through.

The bits which 'aren't bad' are the bits which don't involve Ms Hilton.

The results are not quite Tasty, but they're pretty damn close.

This rather bloated record should be regarded as a disappointment - an interesting one, but a disappointment none the less.

(ONe) is decidedly safe and anything but experimental.

Another reassuringly exceptional album.

More beautiful, uplifting, sweet music than you could ever require.

There is a sense of 'heard it before' on many of the songs on the album, but, nonetheless the songs still have the ability to rip your ears off.

Like most tribute albums, Monsieur Gainsbourg Revisited is a rather hit and miss affair, but it may just persuade people to rediscover a man who was somewhat misunderstood throughout his life.

Whilst most die-hard fans are likely to be put off by some of the tracks on offer, this is the sound of a band settling into comfortable maturity.

It's a journey through the West Country trio's brand of infectious bluesy garage rock and evocative of a head on collision between The Kills and the Arcade Fire.

After a while shapes form and the structure of this masterpiece become clear - a wash of beautiful melodies and sumptuous chord changes that sit somewhere between George Harrison and Echo and the Bunnymen.

If you're looking to buy this record on the back of Heartbeats you may be disappointed as it bears little resemblance to the Knife's current work.

Compared variously to The Flaming Lips and Grandaddy, Midlake's take on '70s soft rock is actually better than both.

It[']s by no means an album for all times, and can get too repetitive for its own good, but in the right place, at the right moment not much tops it.

A monstrously grandiose, ridiculously gargantuan and stunningly inventive work from start to end.

Peaches' overt and upfront sexuality was once refreshing, but it now feels a little relentless. Quite possibly, the novelty has worn off.

He's well able to marry insightful lyrics and memorable melody to a genre not always associated with such qualities.

A slight whiff of missed opportunity perhaps, but this is by no means a stinker.

There isn't a duff track to be seen, and you get the feeling the whole thing's been meticulously planned and orchestrated, with a mindset of giving us a record to cherish, something to put on when the chips are down, and that rare thing, one that will almost certainly be loved in equal measure many years down the line.

It is put together with a huge degree of dignity and respect that makes it the perfect swansong for the Man In Black.

Although long-term Dashboard fans will miss the more fragile moments, the new, big, epic sound is one that suits Carrabba.

Fundamental is the thinking person's electropop album of 2006 so far.

Compared to what went before, The Return Of... is a massive let down.

The personal attachment to the material shines through.

This is one of the most exciting debut albums for sometime.