Björk has transcended any pop plinth she may (incorrectly) have been placed upon, to become, probably, our greatest contemporary female vocalist since Diamanda Galas.

Minor aesthetic gripes aside though, ‘Winchester Cathedral’ is how you and I want Clinic to be.

This might be quality above innovation, but it’s also maturity above cliché, and above all, passion over cynicism.

While it's got to be said 'Amerika's Nightmare' certainly has its moments over the space of a complete album the familiar themes and reference points start to feel a shade tired and predictable.

Yes, there is a lot in the way of failing relationship therapy on here, but when it's done with such eloquence and downright elegance it'd be churlish to treat it with the disrespect more easily afforded to music's legions of professional disenchanteds.

Lanegan's lyrics are poetic, well thought out and devastatingly honest, making this more a serious artistic account than some braggadocio bullshit. And then add to that the fact the music is just fantastic.

Chock full of songs that are lounging rather than strictly loungey, cosmpolitan-sounding in a wearing-aviator-shades alongside a large-haired lovely kind of way and blessed with harmonies that fall narrowly on the breezy side of melancholia.

It’s an atmospheric and tender record, and although you have to wait for each line you never lose patience.

Badly Drawn Boy's been sketchy before, but never quite this artless.

Few artists can master the trick of capturing ambience and atmosphere without resorting to cliche. M83 are among the few.

Given how many of their contemporaries have attempted to xerox a winning sound and got it so far wrong, the fact that the Kings can still turn their hand to such magnificent lost hits as 'Misread', spin out obtuse, imaginative imagery as they do in 'Surprise Ice' and sculpt such tender ruminations as 'Stay Out Of Trouble' is cause for serious celebration.

This is a genius pop album, one on which pretty much everything fantastic happens.

The diversity audible throughout 'Nostalgialator's' 11 tracks makes the album feel like some surreal kind of trans-generic mix tape.

It's as if they're trying to mimic Primal Scream but on ‘Let’s Make History’ they’re more like an under the weather INXS, and on ‘Armed Love’ you could even draw comparisons with Ocean Colour Scene. Eeeeeeeeee!

Giant mutant rats are running about the place with gasmasks and guns. Their eyeballs are electric red, firing lightning bolts of acid, spit and shit and blowing up the place and the furniture.

Although pretty catchy, this album is a tad too monotonous.

Blueberry Boat is a frustrating, niggling, great idea of a record.

This is a record of outrageous range and unprecedented panache.

There's precious little here not to like, and it's as satisfying an experience as any of the ambient survivors have produced in years.

Despite their reputation for distinctiveness parts of 'The Tipping Point' feel distinctly under par by the Roots own high standards suggesting that the departures of MC Malik B (Slacks) and human beatboxers Scratch and Rahzel have, in some ways, led to a successive narrowing down of the range of the Roots' previously loose and eclectic sound.

With each track they descend further into the mire.

Keep giving it a whirl though and it becomes something rather exquisite.

The record is littered with highlights.

A decidedly schizophrenic experience, if a frequently beautiful and, at the very least, relentlessly promising one.

This time, as well as simply delivering the goods, Wilco come bearing a basket of extras.

Leaning closer towards the fiercer end of the guitar spectrum, 'Molé' is a splurge of intense and angry songs, a reaction to the filthy Bush era.

Ejstes... has an innate sense of melody, rhythm and the skill to play some pretty natty fat bass splurges, and psychedelic, peripatetic spider-like drum rolls.

Picking highlights from a release so well executed and downright ass-shaking is difficult.... 'To The 5 Boroughs' is a triumph.