Despite its origins, Infra stands as a staggering achievement, and as an album in its own right.

Archives will not compensate for the lack of new Department Of Eagles material. Indeed, it appears that the project will be on a long hiatus whilst Rossen is preoccupied by Grizzly Bear. Yet it does have merit as a fascinating document of a band veering out of its comfort zone, starting to make what had previously been the music of their dreams.

It's not a perfect album by any means; some of the more cutesy numbers can border on the twee, and at 44 minutes it's far too long for a collection of songs that essentially sound very similar. But it is an extremely promising debut, and a warm, breezy and openly-referential antidote to the hordes of cacophonic pretenders taking themselves far too seriously.

Sometimes it feels a little one-paced and, on the first few listens, disinterest is but a stone's throw away. Luckily for Secret Cities though, the more listens the album gets, the more enjoyable it becomes.

It's less digestible but it's tauter, more metallic and yes, industrial.

Dark Night Of The Soul certainly has its moments, but in spite of the sequencing it sounds like a collection of songs rather than a singular body of work.

Even when they're singing about a relatively maudlin subject, the group sound positive and energetic, their brand of pop given a healthy, summery twist.

Sure, they may have lost their vulnerability, but School Of Seven Bells suit their new found assurance, and in doing so win our hearts for a second time.

Intriguer will have to stand or fall on its own merits. If there is any justice in the world it will be a bestseller.

It's a mature progression for a talented band who, having started out at the tender age of just 15, now seem much clearer on which direction they want to take.

These expertedly crafted songs do deserve a wider hearing, and if this album is to remain a hidden treasure, then it's the general public's loss in all honesty.

With five singles sitting and waiting, Aphrodite is the record she needed.

Delphic have started 2010 as we all hope it will go on - with superb music.

If Night Work set out to remind listeners what they loved about Scissor Sisters in the first place, it succeeds. If it had a couple more absolute killer songs then it would be an unqualified triumph but, as it stands, Night Work will do more than nicely.

We know 3OH!3 can be entertaining and danceable, but too many tracks seem rushed, unenthusiastic and even boring.

Those seeking greater musical challenges will probably want to look elsewhere, but there is much here to praise and enjoy.

Sex Dreams And Denim Jeans is catchy, fresh-sounding and brilliantly self-referential, with an attitude a million miles removed from a major label star pretending to be like, totally, OMG, mental.

While there is plenty of soul in the sound, there is a lack of body in both delivery and melody.

While Further ironically does little to further The Chemical Brothers' sound, they have once again produced a strong and sturdy album of high quality electronic music that still leaves many of their peers sounding one dimensional and unexciting.

If this is just the start of an artistic resurgence then it'll be interesting to see what comes next. You feel that he's just getting started again.

Boys Inside is Mason's best work since his Beta Band days - a rich, dark slice of mournful, glacial electronica with a heart. Richard X has smoothed away the edges, yet lets Mason stamp his personality on proceedings.

In broadening their horizons they've not sacrificed quality, every note and sound is perfectly executed. Foals have made impressive strides forward, and you'd be mad not to follow them.

With Body Talk Pt 1 she's ready to finally take her place at pop's top table of greats. For once, the sequel can't some soon enough.

Fallon's understanding of the redemptive power of music elevates American Slang from being a good record to a great one.

In amongst the filler of the album's latter half, he still manages to hold his own with Jay-Z on the pounding Light Up, and sit back and admire 'Lil Wayne's oddly compelling flow on Miss Me. Self-obsessed, paranoid, fleetingly spectacular and always interesting, Thank Me Later does indeed mark the arrival of rap's newest superstar.

Despite its promising start, the album sags in the middle with Harcourt indulging, not for the first time, his love of Tom Waits.

The Like take hooks to the next level by repeating choruses as many times as possible, but the sections are so catchy it's very difficult to get annoyed by the repetitions.

Fortunately the lack of ambition displayed during the album-naming sessions doesn't correspond to this work's contents. It's a bold, dramatic, more than a little screwed-up and stunningly exciting statement.