'Hate' is gloomy without being self-indulgent, and grand without being pompous.

'One Bedroom' is an infinitely pleasurable listen, and one that (very gently) blows away any post-rock preconceptions.

'Lovebox' doesn't quite scale Vertigo's dizzy heights, but it'll be perfectly at home both in clubs and in your lounge.

This is a brilliant, visionary album and needs rewarding with units - MTV won't have the scoobiest what to do, radio programmers will freak, and hip-hop will, once again, move forward.

No great leaps of faith, no huge style shifts, just more of what we've come to love them for. But a bit more laid back and, erm, druggy? If that's at all possible.

As an album, the thing seems to suffer from a lack of texture, variation, and (dare we suggest) innovation.

In their quest for paper, The Roots have lost their way.

There are no real surprises here but then in the land of pop-punk surprise is not high on the agenda.

This could be one of the most important records of the year.

FC Kahuna have aimed scandalously high with this record, and they've not been found wanting.

One of the most important rock bands ever meets one of the best, and guess what, they've only gone and knocked out a bonafide masterpiece. It's 1993 all over again, but it's also 1970 and 2002 and beyond, because an album this classic transcends any pigeonholing.

From its downbeat organ opening to its exhilarating climax, it's almost the sound of a garage band taking on 70s prog-rock excess - all the ambition and none of the flabby indulgence.

This is better than anyone could have expected.

This is a smart LP. From the opening chunder of 'One Note', a mean bass riff and some grade A wittering, their throb is pure and their thrum sweet.

The trouble is that Jay is stuck in an artistic straitjacket of his own making.

Like Spiritualized re-scored and re-scripted by Timothy Leary, something inescapably dark, dread ridden and mesmeric lurks within these tracks.

There are ideas galore here, which is always admirable, though you feel he could have taken the 15 tracks, whittled it down to 10, and developed all this stuff to staggering effect.

Say hello to the future of electrofilthsoulhop.

This is Justin Timberlake squealing like Michael Jackson's pet monkey, a recipe for joy if ever there was one.

Yes, of course it's a touch on the pretentious-sounding side, and it's also one of the most remorselessly miserable records of the decade so far, but none of this should discourage you from embracing it wholly.

Sigur Ros do this better than anyone else right now.

Compelling. Devastating. Amazing. And rocks like a bastard.

Quite simply, only the Chili Peppers are even in this class now, and it took them a lot more than four albums to get there.

It's full-on, one-dimensional and perfect. It ain't clever, but it could be very big.

2002's first REAL classic.

Quite unlike any other chill out album you're likely to hear, 'Melody AM' takes low rider funk and splices it with 80s synth-pop ambience and analogue dub techniques to create a truly inspiring epic pop landscape which neither strays into questionable light classical territories, nor worrying prog rock terrain.

With a secret nod and a flick of an amulet, JJ72 have wandered into Mercury Rev's sacred ground of mystical contemplation.

You've heard all this before, but it still sounds glorious.