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.