It seems churlish to complain about songwriting and production as madly ambitious as this – filled with nuance and detail, sweeping and dizzy in its self-absorption, it builds at moments to an operatic grandeur.

The music is an acquired taste but Tales From The Barrel House is certainly a modern musical artisan at work.

This is a hugely impressive introduction to a dynamic, arresting talent.

From its raucous, raw-edged opening salvo to the softer, weirder, ruminative closing tracks, Blunderbuss crackles with life and energy, hauling roots rock out of the dusty museum and into the dazzling light of the modern day.

The excellent Sara Watkins joins on fiddle, guitar and vocals for an eclectic mix of songs.

[Even] if Alabama Shakes do nothing original, they strike classic poses with real guts.

Mixing up elements of rock, pop, blues, jazz, soul and funk, each song finds its way into a supple groove and just bounces around there as though Amadou's guitar strings and Mariam's vocal chords were made of musical elastic.

It's an introspective work - family breakdowns, fractured romances and his own restless, addictive character pour forth in a variety of low-key yet lush arrangements featuring sombre brass accents.

Sometimes [the strings'] swell threatens to overwhelm the quirkiness, but in the best things, such as Skies are Rare, they work perfectly together.

Sonically speaking, Weller seriously kicks it.

Madonna's infinite varieties have certainly staled.

There is nothing particularly daring about the album but it's classy and enjoyable.

Paul Griffith (drums); Amanda Shires (violins/vocals and a gifted songwriter with her own album Lightning Strikes just out); Chad Staehly (keyboards); Jason Isbell (guitars) and Mick Utley (vocals) add the expertly jaunty sound to Snider's ironic and enjoyably dark lyrics.

In short, if you're stuck in a traffic jam, this is a record which will make you want to open the sunroof.

He's made the kind of record that every kid rummaging through boxes of Seventies vinyl at the car boot sale hopes to find. One that lovingly reassembles a 21st-century impression of that era's warm autumnal hues and tactile textures.

You have to be in the mood for Young Man In America but, when you are, you'll be rewarded by an absorbing album.

Their once-ebullient anthems have been replaced by a collection of mid-tempo, uninspiringly ponderous tracks.

An extraordinary debut from a new British-based band who combine a gipsy swagger with tremulous sensitivity and gothic rock drama.

Wrecking Ball may be his angriest and most overtly political collection, yet the fury is contained in some of his most uplifting and celebratory music, so you can never be quite sure if he has come to raise the flag or to burn it.

She's made her best, most accessible record for years.

They know how to knock a tune together and have delivered a pop party album thrillingly in tune with contemporary listening habits.

Beautifully nuanced collage of soulfully rocking flavours.

Chopped and diced from a variety of sources, it packs a lyrical punch, but nothing here transcends his internet hit.

It sounds like a romantic gift to his new wife and a sentimental salute to his own childhood--a minor gem from a major talent.

It's real music for grown-ups.

Neither lets down an album that features songs by some of country music's finest lyricists.

Sing In My Meadow is unsettling, interesting and, when it works, very affecting.

It is, in short, and as we might have expected, a work of genius.