What we ultimately get with New Moon feels in part like a Best Of retrospective, but also in part a surreptitious and rather voyeuristic peek at Smith's innermost workings and thoughts.

[They] have returned sounding pretty much exactly the same as they did three and a half years ago.

They manage to create a hefty mass of synth'n'guitar led sound, while remaining friendly and accessible.

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

A true work of genius by a true eccentric.

If American Doll Posse sees her remain an acquired taste, those who have already been converted are in for a treat.

Given it's gestation, it's fairly amazing that Baby 81 wasn't stillborn. To find it's kicking with such vigor is little short of remarkable.

Mascis' ear-bleeding guitar soloing is ever prevalent, but there's a dynamism in the music here that was missing in previous efforts.

This is a fine album and certainly Feist's best yet.

Everyone involved seems to work well together.

What is most startling... is the amount of emotional depth that Turner's injected into his songs here.

The Nightwatchman is a Molotov cocktail as volatile as any he’s thrown at the barricade of injustice in the past 15 years.

This is a taut, epic and well-rounded piece, dripping in atmosphere.

A fun, engaging record.

This being Cave, classy lyrical dexterity is never far away. But here the fire and brimstone preacher is a little less po-faced than much of his back catalogue, allowing humour (still black as coal) to gain the upper hand.

Cassadaga is everything his fans would expect from him - mournful, moody and full of lovely melodies.

It's a testament to their talent that by their seventh album they're still continuing to develop and reinvent themselves.

This album provides a gateway to a spine-tingling and thought-provoking experience which more than compensates for the intermittent poor man's Bjork moments.

It is also one of the most jaw-droppingly beautiful albums that I have heard since its predecessor.

It's lyrically depressing, but if you're down in the dumps about the ills of the world and frustrated by a lack of personal achievement, there's surely not a better companion piece to have to hand as you wallow.

Because Of The Times is Kings Of Leon's best album yet, their most fully realised and mature work to date.

It all makes for a captivating listen or a dreamy forty minutes, whatever your preference - though a possible failing can be found in only occasional glimpses of the human soul.

If it weren't for the big three singles... and the habitually contagious Golden Skans standing well above the rest of the album, there would be nothing new or interesting about Myths.

Like its predecessor, the Kaisers' second album is patchy, but does have moments of brilliance.

You're left feeling like you're listening the audio equivalent of a normally classy mum dressing up in her daughter’s clothing.

At times, it's so relentlessly bouncy and upbeat that you feel like mowing down an entire shopping centre with an AK-47. Yet there's enough promise here to confirm that the hype about Mika is pretty much on the money.

Outlandish and of infinite humour, Octopus is an LP to die for.

Taken end to end, Sound Of Silver is a thrilling, exhilarating ride on a fast machine.