Ultimately this is not the artistic disaster it could have been, for despite some uncertainties it is clear Peter Gabriel has plenty of original thoughts to add to these songs.

It's certainly nothing unfriendly, and none of it would sound out of place on the duo's traditional weekend slot at Lovebox.

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.

It would be easy to look at the words and assume that this was a band on the brink of a split, were it not for the fact that their first album featured a very similar outlook and identikit themes. Essentially, it is hard to see where the band might go from here.

So far, so deliriously cheesy. Unfortunately, the remainder of The Beat Is... lacks any sparkle or panache, with the band falling foul of a very current musical disease; the Auto-Tune obsession.

Come Down With Me marries synth-prog stuff with guitar-driven indie rock in a way that comes across as equally smart and approachable. The achieved effect is something to behold.

Walking a fine line between being leftfield and hook-laden, Jaga Jazzist have delivered another selection of epic, psychedelic sojourns through electronics, brass and beats that consistently engage and excite.

The Golden Archipelago is an admirable achievement: a project that has been meticulously prepared and executed with passion and flair.

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.

Half remembered, half acknowledged, half understood, it is, in short, very subtly brilliant.

There's just enough pop influence to catch the audience's ear along the way - the refrains on Chocolate Makes You Happy, Dear God, I Hate Myself, and This Too Shall Pass Away (For Freddy) are as infectious as any mainstream pop song.

It might take a week, a month, or even a year for it to yield up all its treasures; but after only a week in its company, this reviewer's instincts tell him that Have One On Me is a masterpiece.

What the two have come up with next is a new member and a sort of hillbilly Pixies for children, or perhaps a grunge starter kit for Polyphonic Spree fans.

This dreamy, warm and otherworldly concoction is the perfect antidote to the grey and chilly beginnings of the impending new year.

One of the most deeply satisfying aspects of this almost wholly satisfying album is the way in which the band succeed in the creation of moods and conveying of emotions.

This album and its predecessor are worthy and awe-inspiring tributes to the man and the Malian musical traditions for which he and Diabaté were--and continue to be--the strongest and most compelling of standard-bearers.

Work is by no means a bad album; it's just a disappointing one. For all their early promise, the band have made a record that reflects its title and monochrome artwork all too literally.

If only they worked a little harder at it, they could be so much more than indie fodder for those who find Kasabian's recent work a little too experimental.

It's these flashes, however, that highlight the shortcomings of some of the other tracks on ((un)), leaving plenty of room for improvement for that difficult second album.

While Mumford And Sons may not excel as urbane, multi-dimensional songsmiths, they succeed by virtue of their sheer, unabashed wholeheartedness.

Falling Down a Mountain: enough classic Tindersticks to keep die-hard fans more than happy; and enough new stuff to everyone else think twice about relegating them to the cabaret circuit.

But what comes through now is the strength of the songwriting, and his willingness to try out new things.

The album, in general, is much more relaxed than anything Reed created (post-Nico, that is), and while the whole thing has a vaguely hazed-out feel, the effect created is more stoner chill than frenetic heroin-induced madness

Kollaps Tradixionales is an outstanding album that competes with anything the band has done previously under its various monikers. It's early in the year to be predicting albums of 2010, but this will surely be up there.

This is a record built on the dependable building blocks of guitar, bass and drums, albeit arranged and (presumably) Pro-Tooled into exciting, original new formations.

Local Natives have made a stunning debut, feeling simultaneously familiar and challenging, and presenting a sweeping collection of tracks that are at once cinematic and sonically lush, swelling and serene.

Fixin' The Charts comes with a lofty goal: to grind down the blemishes that mar the rock face of the popular music mythos. But to attempt to "fix" history, to paint over its wrongs with a broad, sneerish stroke, is a gross mis-step in the career of one of anti-pop's savviest purveyors.

Genuine Negro Jig is a stunner in every sense. Its music is as fresh and innovative as it is deeply rooted in its time and place.