Kanye West’s fourth album 808s and Heartbreak follows the crowd rather than leads it. Where he steps, the footprints of T-Pain are readily visible. His use of auto-tune throughout the album is heavy, and in songs like Heartless and Love Lockdown its use is appealing.

It is a hodgepodge of stupid ideas that one will either find brilliant or, well, stupid. However, it is hard to deny that it is a pop album of massive ambition and yet, suffers from none of the pretentiousness that plagues most of the Killers contemporaries in that aspect.

Chinese Democracy is comfortably the most consistent record the band have put out since "Appetite For Destruction," and proof the ginger midget can put out genuinely great rock music without the blonde giant and the black guy.

There’s no question about which side of the disc is the more interesting- sleaze beats manufactured sentiment any day--but ultimately it’s the country half that most people will pay attention to, and to that end there is very little to actively criticise.

It is an album that builds on everything she had done previously, but with a much more personal and mature touch than I ever expected from her.

The New Game signifies Mudvayne's transition from elite metal juggernaut to their inevitable fade into obscurity.

Sycamore Meadows is an album that was born from heartache, and it’s on its saddest and most visceral numbers that the album truly shines, and perhaps gives some validity to that old lie about art.

This split is a nice mix of an old band showing they can still play with the best of them and a band that's still trying to figure out just who they want to be.

The band sounds like they're simply trying too hard to keep up with their more contemporaries, and it shows; the song writing is poorly executed, the syrupy hooks are, for the most part, dull and unimaginative, and the band fails to cover any ground it already hasn't before.

For an album called Out of Control, it's astonishing just how bland and devoid of personality or expression this is.

Intimacy, as an album, is hit-or-miss.

Overall, 4:13 Dream is an extremely consistent album throughout its runtime.

There is just about enough top quality pop music on offer to ensure Snow Patrol’s star continues to grow on the world stage but, worryingly, A Hundred Million Suns is another middling affair from a by-now-mature pop act, and now might be the time to ask why.

But for all the praise it should receive for being the record Deerhunter were destined to make, what will make Microcastle a classic (and this has every right to become a classic) is what the album means to the person listening.

The Fame isn’t a defining moment in pop culture, but it is a promising sign for Lady GaGa, with plenty to dance to.

Symphonic elements always have potential in music, but often are ruined by the execution and this album is no exception. Cradle of Filth fall into the trap of using them as a replacement for actual songwriting, relying on the symphonic arrangements to cover up their lack of talent. It doesn't work, especially because the arrangements themselves aren't too interesting in the first place.

Black Milk has simply made a completely unique statement in what is typically a pretty stale genre, and with Tronic he has confirmed his status as one of the best.

Skeletal Lamping lacks a satisfactory, uh, idea. None are progressed, thoroughly provoked, just simply thrown out the speakers in hopes that we are transfixed by its oh-so literal translation of Barnes’ Georgie Fruit act.

As with anything, there's catch; the 'good' only lasts four songs and about fifteen minutes out of a fifteen song, fifty-five minute record.

Sometimes wistful and reflective, other times earnest, Temper is always tranquil, concise, and accessible.

All that needs to be said is that C I V I L W A R was well worth the wait.

Dig Out Your Soul isn’t the worst record Oasis have produced, but even the heavily shat-upon (an unfairly so, in this writer’s opinion) Heathen Chemistry was comfortable within its own skin.

While it may not be a classic record and won’t be the new soundtrack to the revolution, Appeal to Reason is filled with faux-punk rock anthems and memorable lyrics and basslines that will satiate anybodies need for Rise Against.

In the end, Fucked Up aren't nearly as good as Refused were thought to be, but hey, Refused aren't even as good as they were supposed to be, so Fucked Up may yet be remembered as revolutionary.

Doomsdayer's Holiday is certainly a step in the right direction in terms of balancing the eclecticism that marred "Burning Off Impurities," and it has some amazing moments, but the album as a whole is too nebulous to be complete nirvana.

With Alegranza!, El Guincho takes what could have been a disaster and forms one of the most peculiar, inimitable records of the year.

Squire helps to mount these stories and it’s this that makes Lost Wisdom last.

Good music that works, effortlessly, and is even easier to love.