An extraordinary record.

More often, however, Orbits has too much going on rather than too little.

The latest Lamdin offering, billed as Nostaliga 77 and the Monster, is a thoroughly intriguing instrumental set, staffed with an impressive line-up of leading British jazz heads.

Elling's individualist vocal reinterpretations are well worth hearing.

Mellon Collie is no masterpiece, but its ambition is clearer than anything else Corgan has ever been involved with.

This beat is where everything begins, with an essential simplicity that puts you in mind of Washington go-go, leaving enough space for delicate fill-ins and strong enough to support intricate arrangements.

Never ones for stating the obvious, Singing Adams have constructed an album that is as thought-provoking as it is entertaining.

It's appealing, generally engaging and all shot through with the confidence of a man who must feel he's got the hit parade Midas touch

With a wealth of subtle and understated performances by the supporting cast, including wistful flourishes from pianist Geraint Watkins, whose on-the-money keyboards have graced albums by Nick Lowe and Van Morrison, this is no unthinking pastiche or smirking parody.

It's hard to pretend this is entirely cutting-edge stuff, but the 70-year-old shows no sign of softening, his production rich without bowing to commercialism, his compositions full of unexpected twists and aggression.

While kin is solidly crafted throughout, there's nothing to justify the lofty artistic conceits surrounding it.

This is a credible collection of electronic RnB tracks that owes a greater debt to another, more grown-up Justin.

Clocking in at 36 minutes, this long-awaited solo debut is an impressive exercise in the integration of an expectedly wide range of aesthetics, revealing first and foremost a thoughtful composer with a skilled producer's ear.

It's a knowing retread of what works and what's expected--but boy, that's no problem.

Bastards' crew turns in a commendably original 13 tracks.

For all its battalions of writers and producers, Right Place Right Time is a surprisingly coherent affair.

Carey's gallant use of drum boxes and occasional, restrained glitchy sonics – like on the carousing Pickup Truck and undulating Into Tomorrow – round out Mason's sound, bringing a raft of rousing fresh dimensions to his previously straight-up folksy stylings.

Moving into darker, deeper spaces, it whets the appetite for further occasions when McAuley will fight the urge to rein it in for the dancefloor.

Fall to Grace is proof that pop doesn't need to be grey and restrained to feel grown-up.

Girl on Fire is a smart album, maintaining the high standards set on The Element of Freedom.

Taken as a whole, this is another surprisingly enjoyable album from a pop singer who has managed to broaden her approach without losing her USP.

If it were only possible to turn down the vocals, The No Testament would be a work of greater spiritual, and indeed secular, interest.

Overall, Rage Against the Machine has aged extremely well.

[An] inspired brew of, indeed, both fear and fun.

It might not encourage repeat plays, but to dismiss it as a racket is to do it, and its maker, a huge disservice.

Somehow, like James Blake and SBTRKT before them, Stubborn Heart have forged strikingly contemporary pop from an alternative future.

It's just 11 tracks of mediocre and easily forgettable American rock, devoid of any bells or whistles.

The Seer might not be the album you spend most time with this year--it's too emotionally demanding for heavy rotation – but it's one you'll be listening to for years to come.