Strange Boys are not revivalists, and they're not out of touch. Instead, they offer exactly the kind of rock 'n' roll slap in the face we need in this angular, post-modern 2010. The garage hasn't sounded this good in a long time.

Crocodiles are a talented rock band with a strong sense of songwriting, for sure, but they're also very happy to be playing music, and that joy shines through any amount of fuzz Sleep Forever might throw at you.

This is something we've been waiting a long time for - a truly great Manics album.

Light The Horizon could very well be their best album to date but, at just 10 songs in 34 minutes, it will not be enough for fans, especially the new ones that are hearing them for the first time.

Their transformation into a Eurodisco powerhouse may come as a shock, and at times it’s like being repeatedly punched in the face by The Village People and Simon Cowell, but beneath the surface lies an album rich in ideas and social commentary.

Drummer Gianni Honey and bassist Daniel Rumsey create a magnificently grungy smear of grinding fuzz, before Bell’s squalling guitar adds just the right amount of 1950s style terror to proceedings. And there are sufficient quantities of those sort of moments to make this a very fine debut.

If this is their worst album, and you might believe that it is, then they very well may be the best band in the world. If quality is more important that quantity, then they must simply be the worst band in the world. It’s all about perspective, and at 80 minutes and 22 songs, you’d expect some measure of clarity to emerge from Notes On A Conditional Form. What you do get is a Taylor Swift album in the midst of five great songs, five decent tracks and 12 give-or-takes. And that, in today’s artistic climate, is tantamount to excellence.

There are very few albums being made quite like this, so do partake.

For its maker, it’s a chance to cut loose under the banner of diminished expectations; for the listener, it’s a temporary distraction at best.

Anastasis is certainly an accomplished record and one that fits well within Dead Can Dance's output, but it is a hard listen.

The off-kilter choruses and softly-voiced lyrics take their time to reveal themselves.

They're still a band with huge potential that isn't yet being completely fulfilled. Kaleide might please die-hards but for the rest it lacks in progression and new ideas.

Snowbird have created a record to be cherished.

Year Of The Snitch feels totally alien. It is an exhilarating release that doesn’t let up, and proves that six years on the group are still a force to be reckoned with.

The full blast of bass and guitars from Nic Bueth and Alex Sprogis that respectively fortify tracks like The Big Curve, Decoration and Slideshow are as grotty, inexorably heavy and domineering as the world frontman Charlie Drinkwater finds himself lashing out at.

We Built A Fire is an unassuming, quietly smouldering flash of brilliance to carry us from the deadened depths of whitest winter into the slanted and enchanted light of a spring well spent.

It’s when the pop sheen is dropped and they head in a twitchy, darker direction that Hurts are at their most effective.

Inevitably there are moments when you wished they’d rein it in a little and take a breather from the very many sonic tricks they’re painting with. And you often can’t help but lament the lack of human compassion: the affecting and crafted songwriting of Merriweather Post Pavillion is somewhat lost. But there are glimpses of that capacity on Burglars which has some lovely Beach Boys-esque backing vocals, and many of the tracks are far more intoxicating than their previous record ever offered.

An album of murky depth, of seductive charms and no end of style.

Hearts is not an album of change, but one that revels in the joy of what you know.

Foster The People make infectiously good music, don't stick to a formula and make you yearn to lie on your back in the middle of a field, feeling the hot sun streaming down on your face.

Pinkus Abortion Technician is another solid album from Melvins, but is nowhere near their best. It’s not strange enough to be labelled a curio, it’s not massively experimental and there are very few surprises even with the two-prong bass deployment.

While it may not break any new ground, there’s an oddly addictive ingredient to the Cigarettes After Sex formula, which this album has in spades.

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

One of the standout albums of 2012 so far. Tremendous stuff.

RUFF will win no prizes for compositional elegance, but it’s never boring.

Each of these tracks - the duelling-banjo Train Song; the elegiac And He Would Say - is really perfectly formed, beautifully satisfying in structure alone.

As a collection in the SMD back catalogue, Unpatterns is certainly their best work since Attack Decay Sustain Release, but it still falls a little short of those admittedly towering heights.