She's continued to move away from electronica, but these rich, emotionally sophisticated songs (which will appeal to Cat Power fans) still have a strong rhythmic core.

They may have been left in the band's boot for a while, but there's nothing dead about them.

Some of the noisier blues are cheesy, but, in the main, this is a warm, authentic and durable record: the musical equivalent of a well-worn plaid shirt.

There's definitely real talent with LeBlanc but he needs to forget about having an image created for him and concentrate, as one of his musical heroes Townes Van Zandt might have put on, on writing for the sake of the song.

Flush with stirring, singalong melodies, they construct exciting, catchy songs that draw on the dynamics of stadium rock established by classic bands.

Coexist may not sound as dramatically original as their debut but it is every bit as other-worldly, like eavesdropping on intimate conversations between forlorn lovers on a space station orbiting around a distant planet.

Andy Cutting (accordion), Jon Boden (Hields's partner and the Bellowhead frontman is on fiddle, guitar and double bass), Sam Sweeney (fiddle, viola, cello), Rob Harbron (English Concertina and fiddle) and Martin Simpson (guitar, banjo) provide the classy framework for Hield to interpret 11 traditional songs.

While this is in one sense African music like they don't make it any more, there's nothing precious or retro about it: its energy feels entirely modern.

The album is full of great music, the sort of bluesy, R&B material master guitarist Cooder does so very well.

The familiar is as classy as ever.

For every perfectly observed vignette of English life (Sunny Afternoon, Autumn Almanac) and pithily satirical narrative (Village Green Preservation Society, Dead End Kids) there's a clunking, unwieldy, elaborate novelty song (Supersonic Rocket Ship, Skin & Bone).

The five and a half hours of unreleased demos/live recordings do give a warmly inclusive insider's feel but there's nothing I'd listen to more than a couple of times.

On a production level, this album is cutting-edge, on a lyrical level it is brutally brilliant. It will melt your ears and your heart.

All 11 songs are of high quality.

Channel Orange is as dazzling as it is baffling, rarely staying still long enough to get a grip on.

The 'Revue Boys'--Jonny Bridgwood (double bass & rhythm guitar), Robin Gillan (harmonica), Jason Steel (guitar), Dave Morgan (percussion), and the two Paleys --swing nicely across a range of styles and songs.

Sonically adventurous and genre hopping.

All [songs on Ashes & Roses] command attention because of Chapin Carpenter's warm, weathered, unshowily authentic voice which has a kind of peace at its core.

An assured and imaginative album.

ht Sun is a bold album, and much of it seems to be about casting off the comfortable. But when it works, it works very well.

What feels right (or at least absolutely right now) about Metric is the perfect balance, every element in its place and in service of a set of sinuous, hook-laden, elegantly crafted pop songs.

We are in the presence of mad, brilliant, soulful genius and there is no choice but to surrender.

Twenty-six years after their last album, 58-year-old Rowland and his roughly reassembled crew have made a record that manages to combine fresh new stories with the heart and nervous energy of classic Dexys.

When you rouse yourself from Gardot's dream, it can be hard to recall any individual song, but the reverie is beautiful.

It is not reinventing the pop wheel but everything is done with an appealing combination of taste and passion.

The album has to be judged a late-period triumph, even if I am not entirely convinced The Voice's avuncular judge is quite as deep as the material demands.

The playing is lovely, lilting and delicate.

In the past decade, it seems Jones has made a sneaky transition from dinner party backdrop to David Lynch soundtrack.