Thorn's voice will always be a thing of undimmed charm and emotion, but the gulf between the music styles on display here, which flick from 70's disco, piano ballads and electro-pop seem like trying to keep a foot in both camps of the simpler days of her youth, and the ‘hip' dance crowd.

In buying in so emphatically into a US pop/soul template, Stone has effectively erased what made her so intriguing in the first place.

The songs aren't in a hurry to stray beyond mid-tempo and occasionally the production is stodgy... Ultimately though it is a beautiful melancholic album.

Comparisons with his subsequent work are inevitable and this feels like a disappointment when put alongside the more accessible likes of Donuts.

There's enough talent here to suggest that the hype around The View at the moment is thoroughly justified - hats off to them indeed.

It's a superb comeback, and one of the best albums of the year.

The numbers which populate Costello Music are a darn sight better than Carl Barat and Pete Doherty's solo exploits.

Mostly, it's gorgeous stuff.

At some points, you listen and think 'my God, this is actually better than The Strokes'.

Much like their debut, it'll take a few listens to be pulled towards Myth Takes by the force operates at its core.

You could make a fair case for it not even being as good as Funeral – but my oh my, it's close.

Qualities like intelligence, eclecticism and imagination sometimes seem to be in short supply in the music industry - Candylion encapsulates all these qualities and more and deserves a far wider audience than the cult status it will undoubtedly settle into.

For Idlewild fans, especially of the older school, there is more than enough here to warrant a pilgrimage to your local record shop.

One man's pop is another man's weirdness. And weird, The Third Hand certainly is.

Like Oberst, the strength of her songwriting sometimes overshadows the rather interesting things going on in terms of production.

Whilst it might not reinvent the wheel, Vessels is a rewarding slice of indie rock with a pleasing amount of dark psycadelic twist.

Well, in many ways it follows the same tried and trusted formula of their previous three albums - dramatic, emotive and melodic, with guitars very much the centre of attention. Yet this time around the band have progressed to produce a more varied collection of tracks.

Pop Levi is an oddball, an eccentric in the finest English tradition and a man who evokes the effortless, timeless cool of many and varied heroes of modern music's life and times.

Too big in their influences and scope to fit in even the biggest pigeonhole imaginable, The Besnard Lakes thankfully produce music chock-full of tunes and spine-tingly loveliness not seen since The Beach Boys or more recently the sheer joy and ridiculous grandeur of The Polyphonic Spree.

When so many performers are trying to push the boundaries, sometimes it's nice to have something so plain and straightforward.

They're bright, breezy, accomplished and catchy, indie-pop at its best.

How good is A Weekend In The City? At times, it's brilliant: bold, forthright and honest.

So, an unexpected turn from our commentator on urban squalor with this dreamlike, abstract paean to Mother Nature and the great outdoors.

Think Belle and Sebastian or a touch of Aberfeldy and take that east over the North Sea to Sweden, adding exquisite touches of orchestration and a touch more wistfulness as you go, and you have a rough template for the sound of Loney Dear.

Perhaps if each song were half the length, the fun, easy-listening element to PBJ's music would be more clear-cut. As it is, Writer's Block proves a real struggle.

Pop music needed saving and in Lily Allen we've found just the woman to do it.

This album is too much of a mess to be seen as a worthy follow-up to such a great debut.

This collection of quaint, feel-good numbers is not going to set the world alight, but it offers something warm and comforting to come home to.