It's strange that such a traditional set-up (drums, bass, keys, guitars, voices) has resulted in one of 2009's most unique debuts.

This is delicate dreampop rendered without the usual disorienting layers.

As well as weighty statements, there is a sense of closure here.

They have pulled off another album for the modern age, and its stories live in all of us.

It might be coming from the cheap seats, but for the most part, this is classy stuff.

You’ve got an album that revels in the simplicity of a great pop song while cleverly articulating the everyday truths of 20-something life, on Bognanno’s terms alone.

‘Fearless Movement’ feels like more of a personal piece than ‘Heaven and Earth’, leaning more towards humanism than the spiritualism that has so enraptured Washington in the past. The key to his appeal, though, remains unchanged; he makes music that’s apparently limitless in scope and yet joyously immediate, even to the casual jazz listener.

This album lacks the novelty factor – Liam finally going solo – that made ‘As You Were’ so welcome. But it’s more diverse (everything’s relative) and textured.

Wild World is a triumphant pop record: unflinching in its ability to rouse listeners and unapologetic in its quest for a Number One.

For an artist who has long revelled in gruesome imagery and high concept, this feels like a surprise peek behind the curtain, and yet another sonic boundary crossed.

A notch below the genius of 'Debut' or 'Homogenic' but precious nonetheless. [4 Sep 2004, p.73]

An elegiac, neo-psychedelic collection of labyrinthine naive melodies that's the schizophrenic lovechild of Four Tet and The Magnetic Fields. [4 Jun 2005, p.58]

Packed with meditative spoken-word vocals, this is an even more melancholic record than its predecessor – and a less immediately exciting one, too. But it’s arguably a more complex beast, born of a complex era yet authored by a musician with one eye on the simple, timeless pleasures of the club.

This is a rare and wonderful joy: a live album that even non-obsessives should embrace. [12 Nov 2005, p.45

A fine album that, while not likely to win any prizes for Gorillaz-style innovation, will resonate, both musically and lyrically, with fans young rather than old.

Musically, ‘Mainstream Sellout’ doesn’t stray too far from [Tickets To My Downfall's] blueprint laid out, but lyrically sees Baker get more honest, more revealing and more comfortable in being uncomfortable.

Tighter than anything they've recorded previously, it’s a great return and a slick change of direction.

Minor quibbles aside, however, All I Need is Britain’s pop industry going head-to-head with America’s heaviest hitters, and triumphing.

This is the album they were born to make. It gives us all the things that punk has never been able to provide: romance, sex, the adventure of the open road and sheer nihilism-banishing energy.

This album really shouldn’t work. That it does is down to Kavinsky’s painstaking production and his dark vision of the place where rock and electro meet.

It feels like Lamb Of God are putting their papers in order and gearing up for the next charge over the top, not thinking about winding down at all.

It’s far grubbier and more riotous than any high school musical.

Initially it's strange to hear that instantly identifiable baritone clashing with organic, rough-edged guitars, dirty Hammond organ, and delicate strings rather than the cold electronics of the day job, but it soon reveals itself to be a perfect pairing.

‘Modern Slaves’ is the only track that reflects the mournful suggestion of the album’s title, its lament of choral voices accentuating a lyrical pain over music that is gently insistent and quietly furious. More often, ‘Funeral For Justice’ is ablaze with energy.

Ambition, imagination, charm and grace - by any measure, 'About A Boy' hits the heights.

One of the most cosmopolitan albums to carry the Giant seal of oddness. [11 Sep 2004, p.55]

Johnny Venus and Doctur Dot prove to everyone that rap groups are on the rise. In a genre overpopulated with solo artists, it’s refreshing to see a duo emerge from the ashes. If you give the sick lyricism and jazz overtones a few more years, they could be the next Outkast.

What’s really intriguing about Jungle, though, is its darker side. There's a tone of inner-city malaise, romantic ruin and psychedelic alienation to a raft of its tracks that speaks to those modern urbanites feeling screen-wiped and robbed of opportunities, busy earnin’ for nothing.