High Road appears to have bridged the gap between then and now with flair. Although we heart Kesha the party girl, we love the heart and soul she always pours into her music. A nonchalant and welcome return.

Though [A Bigger Bang] doesn't dare to place itself in the same hallowed halls as that Jimmy Miller-produced quartet of records between 1968 and 1972, it jostles justly and fairly with the best since.

The main problem with Gallagher-Squire is that it all sounds a bit lazy and predictable. You get the impression that they know this too.

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

At times it can become something of an amorphous blob, with songs blending into one another, but the highlights of Home and Flight ensure that there's something tangible to hang on to.

A short, sweet ride, and one worth taking again and again.

The 10 tracks on her debut are all lovingly crafted, but the languid atmosphere means that they sometimes drift into each other.

This certainly isn't an essential album by any means, and perhaps a retrospective of Tillman's previous five albums and EPs might have been a better introduction.

Overall, there's nothing much here for even Wainwright obsessives to get excited about. Buy it as a companion for the far superior DVD, or if you're desperate for a souvenir of the Release The Stars tour. Otherwise, this is strictly for completists only.

The Brian Jonestown Massacre is exactly what you expect, and selfishly want, The Brian Jonestown Massacre to sound like.

It’s not a perfect album – you get the impression that Packs as a band are still figuring out their sound, and they’re at that stage where plenty of ideas are going to be thrown around.

A very satisfying addition to an already impressive Efterklang discography, then--and it would be interesting to see if the band writes faster music on their next album.

American Stories certainly sees Rostam coming out of his comfort zone and the safety of the studio to produce a work that is both personal and political. If it sometimes feels a bit too light, there’s no denying the craftsmanship on display.

It's these hints of darkness, together with an ability to take on several differing styles of music in the course of one album, that make Black Mountain such a compelling listen. They remain a captivating proposition, with an arsenal of powerful riffs now at their disposal.

While that development may take some by surprise, Melophobia finally sees Cage The Elephant realise their full potential.

Eloquent, glamorous, spirited and now more sonically innovative than ever, the quintet have affirmed their place as one of Britain's most exciting bands with this release.

The State Between Us has some brilliant moments, but those moments are too stretched out: many of the tracks could have been half their length and been equally effective, and some could have been cut altogether for not holding together as pieces of music. However, even at its lowest ebbs it retains some intrigue from its novelty, and the sheer ambition of the album is not to be faulted.

The lack of drums on large chunks of An Object initially gives the feeling that the album is lacking an anchor, but when the band explore the shimmering noise cosmos of closing track Commerce, Comment, Commence they sound expansive and exquisite, something that their more forthright punk approach can’t hope to achieve.

Compared to the admittedly prodigious vocals of Duffy and Adele, this feels like the real deal.

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

Colour Of The Trap may not spring any surprises but it's easy to get caught up in Kane's beguiling web of '60s sound.

Overall, this is an album full of promise, poise and brio.

Non-Secure Connection needs – and deserves – several encounters before its treasures can be fully revealed. When they are, a record to stand beside his best achievements in recent years is the result. Hornsby is a fascinating and absorbing character, and the longer his creative surge continues the better.

The songs lack the emotional pull of the duo's debut. Seeds of greatness are still evident, but this direction just seems like a dead end.

It’s that eclectic and restless nature that makes I Hear You one of those rare dance albums that sounds equally at home in the living room or in a club. Expect Peggy Gou to be the soundtrack to all the hottest barbecues and beach parties this summer.

Underneath all the references to rampant sex and general debauchery, there’s very often a beating heart at the centre of Merrill Nisker’s work. No Lube So Rude is yet another exhilarating, essential entry into her canon of work.

Yet, despite these slight missteps [Fear Machine and Delusion Pandemic], VII is a fine addition to what is already a solid musical canon.

While it’s possibly a bit too similar to First Mind to have the same sort of impact that album did, this is still a powerful demonstration of what a fine musician Mulvey is.