There's a bunch of teary emotions bagged up in the spikiest of descending scales.

There’s nothing on Hombre Lobo (Spanish for werewolf) that couldn’t be constructed by breaking down the DNA of the previous six Eels albums and repiling the strands up in some melodically fresh but warmly recognisable way.

While Green Lanes doesn’t exactly break new ground, it does refine their warm’n’cosy formula enough to interest.

Rule of thumb for this album: ballad good, uptempo shocking. [20 Nov 2004, p.57]

They may be a one trick pony, but these 2008 recordings show that Stereolab are good at what they do.

Ultimately the one thing truly lacking on Dungeonesse is the bright spark that makes pop stars so entertaining to obsess over.

What it is overall, however, is a disappointment. A few sparkling moments of invention aside, much of this album is comfortably interchangeable with "Stars Of CCTV's" less inspired tracks.

Ten tracks of exuberant, blissful pop later and it looks like the Mackem lads have actually come good on their promise.

Silly? Indisputably, although Dani Filth's theatrical vocals ensure that 'The Abhorrent' is every bit as grandiose and ridiculous as a classic Hammer horror.

All too often, tracks feel like connectors – carriages to transport listeners between the singles. There’s little narrative, few definitive themes, but there are lots of guests.

A wide-eyed, serotonin rush of an album that will make you eternally grateful for Swim Deep’s perseverance.

This debut confidently chronicles every dizzying high and crushing blow that love brings – affairs of the heart have, after all, long been Michaels’ specialist songwriting subject. Most notably, each song is anchored by Michaels’ distinctive one-liners.

The tracks that work on this album would fit perfectly on a spooky science fiction soundtrack, but the remaining songs really drag the collection down.

The freewheeling spirit does occasionally give way to a less exciting middle ground: ‘Eight Minute Machines’ comes as a blast of scuzzy guitar-driven punk we’ve heard a lot of in recent years, where the six-minute closer ‘Greasin’ Up Jesus’ is built around a drum machine doesn’t go anywhere in particular. For the most part, though, this is clearly the sound of a band ready to party once more, making for another carnival of different sounds and offbeat ideas.

The swiftly released follow-up staves off a bad case of sequelitis because it successfully deepens Swims’ story.

It's an impressively unpredictable record that veers down wildly different paths, in ways no previous Modest Mouse album has dared.

What Muse have done is re-establish themselves as a respected British institution by being fun.

Gatekeeper's Aaron David Ross and Matthew Arkel crunch elements of '80s post-industrial dance, horror/sci-fi soundtracks and computer game music into an enjoyably garish whole.

If it sounds close to daft on paper, Merchandise have the ingenuity to make it work, and so it is with this fine album.

The most brilliantly ambitious record of the year.

File under: ‘shoulda put a donk on it’.

Intimate, unpolished and worth getting to know.

It’s a shame the saccharine musical backing too often makes it hard to empathise.

At times, you want more rage. Other times, more clarity. You can’t doubt Public Enemy’s resolve. But on Man Plans God Laughs, music and message remain a notch out of synch.

Confidently expressing vulnerability over woozy nocturnal soundscapes to create comfort and intimacy in a lonely, quiet place, LoveLaws will be your fireside companion.

Like most break-up albums, ‘This Is Really Going To Hurt’ is self-indulgent. There are moments of relatability, but for the most part, Taylor’s fury steamrolls everything.

As inviting and accessible as anything released this year. [2 Apr 2005, p.50]

Ash come close here to that which has always eluded them: an album that amounts to more than the sum of its singles.