Here, as on 2004's Where the Humans Eat, he posits himself as a man of the road whose sole possessions are a handful of albums, all of which were made in the mid-to-late Sixties. Pleasingly, however, he abides by his own rules.

The converted will no doubt welcome their current interest in Middle Eastern superstition, plus intricate tunes such as 'The Second Coming'. Outsiders, however, may remain sceptical.

Their McFly-like soulless pop-rock is unlistenable tosh.

It's the sound of the summer! If summer for you means a fake tan and drinking WKD for a week in the Med with the likes of Kelly Rowland and Will.I.Am popping up as guests with your fave.

This odd and occasionally lovely concoction might just redeem Iggy from that insurance ignominy.

True to form, this third record pootles around before, ultimately, achieving lift-off.

Loyalty to Loyalty, an improvement on 2006's filler-heavy debut, is a sincere, if preachy, advertisement for integrity over image.

The Golden Mile is more substantial: a very well-made rock record of perfect length (about 45 minutes) and contradictory catharsis.

Though the songs are all praises to the Creator (or His prophet), there is little sense of joy.

Those hoping to be converted are likely still to doubt the 'voice of a generation' tag.

Finally, the sequel to Break Like The Wind...

Unlike the calculated, humourless thump of Razorlight, this is stirring, ecstatic and - just sometimes - brilliantly OTT stuff.

Smith's rock poet muse is certainly alive on most cuts, her deep voice declaiming, yipping, soaring, and investing old lyrics with fresh dignity and rhythm.

Yes, he's still plugging away, swapping the frenetic disco of 2008's "Last Night" for a more cultured sound.

Lewis's voice is impressively elastic throughout but lacks any grit or style.

It's an album likely to confound and alienate, but its nooks are home to a rugged kookiness that no one but RZA could pull off.

A frustrating set with glimpses of gorgeousness.

Luna is a psychedelic delight.

The Grammy-winner has a worthy reputation--and, yes, songs namecheck Katrina, Obama et al--but there's also a playful, reflective quality as Chapman looks back at the way music has shaped her life.

The new arrangements don't add lustre to every track; Hawley's own 'Coles Corner' was so expertly crooned the first time that it feels unnecessary here. But more incongruous reworkings, including a version of the Human League's 'Louise', fare better and Christie's voice is engaging throughout.

Played, boys, oh well played.

One for the fans, but it would be churlish to deny that the Wedding Present still have plenty to offer.

X is merely a slightly above average collection of tracks.

Whenever Hard Candy threatens to get boring, something always happens to recapture your interest, but the three songs in which Madonna actually seems to forge a genuine connection with her musical helpmeet leave the rest of the album in the shade.

Nat Bed's second has nothing as catchy as 'Unwritten', the tunes are on the airy-fairy side of breezy, and the lyrics on the naff side of plain. But 'Smell the Roses' is a turbulent little pop symphony, and 'When You Know You Know' is sinuous soul that speaks well of her extended sojourn in LA studios.

The follow-up adheres to a winning formula: this is sunny pop in a Sixties vein. But why don't they try something reckless?

Last year he made the magnificent 'Dat Girl Right There', only to omit it in favour of the gloop he wades through on this.

Quite addictive.