With her distressed, Southern-inflected vocals and guitar/piano accompaniments tolling like perpetual church bells, Cat Power brings these songs successfully into her own, bleak domain.

For ‘Big Joanie’ to musically expand this thoroughly yet retain the core of their appeal and singular brilliance on ‘Back Home’ feels remarkable, and you get a sense that it’s far from a final form for the band.

If you’ve ever been enticed by Spanish guitar, here’s your rock’n’roll introduction.

If their previous albums sounded like hardcore on steroids and deranged, this is the same for their brand of rock-and-roll. The album’s best moments are when The Armed get brazen with their genre experimentation.

A record of sonic maturity and real beauty. [2 Jul 2005, p.64]

To bypass Yuck would be imbecilic simply because their debut contains some of the most effortlessly hard-hitting, heart-hitting pop of 2011.

As a whole, the album is confirmation of two young artists at the top of their game, watching the landscape unfold from the throne they earned themselves four years ago.

Ten years after their last masterpiece, The Flaming Lips have finally produced another one.

Lyrically witty, full of neat turns of phrase, his songs recall the quirks and kinks of Jonathan Richman, the tale-telling and wit of Alex Turner (specifically the Arctics man's gentle, romantic work on the Submarine soundtrack), and the playful verbosity of Pavement's Stephen Malkmus.

It’s a showcase for Pusha’s cold-blooded flow and crammed with memorable lines.

Bridges’ latest offering maintains the traditional elements of old-school soul heard on his previous work but introduces a new, vibrant, almost luminous aesthetic, comparable to the likes of Snoh Aalegra and Brent Faiyaz.

‘Loving In Stereo’ might not quite satiate as fully after the delicious hooks of its lead singles, but in elevating Jungle’s pulse overall, McFarland and Lloyd-Watson have captured what feels like a natural and necessary progression – and a fun, danceable one at that.

It’s the brightest, most listenable collection of songs he’s pieced together in some time.

A common thread can be found in CYRK, Cate's second album: the application of a sincere pop-song sensibility, and a yen for the surreal that sidesteps the zany.

By celebrating what it is to be a freak in 2004 they've made a debut that's unique yet uniting, deep yet designed for the dance-floor.

Overloaded with laugh-out-loud lyrical gobbets, intelligent production and tunes that straddle commerciality and the street. [28 Jan 2006, p.34]

Hypersonic Missiles mostly hits the notes he longs to convey: it’s by turns euphoric and melancholy, self-deprecating and righteous, untethered and claustrophobic. There are no easy answers here, but Sam Fender’s asking the right questions.

Slightly predictable, but the work of master craftsmen.

A Weird Exits should prove a solid fan-satisfier or entry point for newbies.

Their stark sound might not be for everyone, but Williamson’s sideways swipes at pop culture and his own big nights out are as hypnotic as Fearn’s punked-up electronica which, despite its simplicity, is nigh impossible not to move to.

‘Strange Timez’ is yet another worthwhile endeavour, the band keen not just to match the skill and pace of modern pop outlets, but to outlast the competitors. Whether your consumption method was more traditional, or you’re perhaps tempted to binge every episode in this album format, there’s joy aplenty here.

It’s admittedly not the most cohesive album, infatuated with various experimental threads, but it’s also hard to fault this restlessness album, which is punchy and gutsy enough to hold up Torres’ constantly intriguing ideas.

It might not hold any firm answers or blazing rebuttals to the world burning up like a flaming, stinking trash can, but crucially it refuses to look away from the mess, and confronts it instead.

The result is a set of remarkable electronic rituals with an endearing, mystical quality.

It's like Scissor Sisters on tranquilisers. With a bit of ELO. And a dash of Ramones. And, with this eclecticism, a worrying lack of focus. [5 Jun 2004, p.57]

Some may be unconvinced by the ambitious leap Fleet Foxes have made on album three, but there’s really no doubting the first-rate intelligence behind this uncompromising and ever-changing piece of work.

Other than the fantastically chaotic "Watcher, Tell Us Of The Night" ushering in a rallying final quarter, it makes for a frustratingly unfocused listen from a fine artist lost in his own magnificent noises.

Love is a lush, romantic, folk-driven collection that moves away from his earlier, more psychedelic work.