To further the point, the album's 10 tracks total just 34 minutes, so listeners will snap out of the dream rather than disappear with it down a wormhole. But the blissful summery mood hangs around for ages. If you don't want summer to end, or you're a SAD sufferer, then consider Skit I Allt the best and cheapest antidote on the market.

Stuck in a time warp they may be, but singer-guitarist Craig Fox, drummer Patrick Keeler and bassist Jack Lawrence (the latter pair better known as the rhythm section in Jack White's Raconteurs – Lawrence also plays with White in The Dead Weather), revel in their chosen genre with such mellifluous joie de vivre that it's hard to deny them their retrospective orientation.

It’s Thomas’s guilt-free love of mavericks past that lends such evocative warmth and unusual spontaneity to a fascinating album that could have been pure self-indulgence.

Banga is the best Patti Smith album since Horses. No one else makes rock records as rich, poetic and sexy as this.

It's the comedown after Power's other lot are done with their sensory assault, a perfect after-hours accompaniment for contemplation and restoration.

Nobody would expect an eighth album by a band 20-plus years into its career to sound this fantastic, but time away has obviously helped re-energise the brothers into crafting this triumphantly grand return.

It’s focused, and superbly executed, but forgoes immersive longevity for determined immediacy.

As good as their 2007 Mercury Prize-nominated album, The Bairns, undoubtedly was, Here’s the Tender Coming raises the standard higher still.

Her enviable clarity of tone and the disarming beauty of her vocals lend Love and Its Opposite a dreamy, if uncomfortable, sort of truth. But blithe, sunny romantics are advised to keep a stiff drink (and a hanky) within very easy reach.

Rokstarr bounces to a beat that feels fresh and vibrant.

Vanishing Point proves the quartet is still a thrilling proposition, in love with the simplicity of mayhem and volume.

Even though much of the album is inwardly gazing, there are repeated outbreaks of jazz toughness.

Smith remains stubbornly entrenched in a perpetual slough of despond. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem he had much to laugh about during his short, unhappy life, but over an entire record, his maudlin musings are rather hard work for all but the most introspective of listeners.

As tasters go, it’s exciting fare: the appetite for more isn’t so much whetted as left in a state of delightful fervent.

A sixth album of exuberant, glammy pop and driving Southern-fried rock.

Credit to this fine record that, when you actually listen to it, the need for explanation feels like the last thing on your mind.

The imaginative artwork, of a black and white keyboard splintering into different colours, emphasises the feel-good factor of this winning collection of songs and arrangements done with great style.

A marvellous little record where improvisation rubs shoulders with immediacy.

That the album is a minor triumph is testament to both the durability of the songs, and the astonishing gifts of the singers.

Torche have always been a good band and sometimes even a great one, but with Harmonicraft they've found the songs to match their extraordinary sound.

Once you manage to pull away from Bloom's magnified scenery and consider the record as a whole it's difficult to think of it as anything other than its makers' best work so far.

Honest lyrics backed by off-kilter and unexpected production from Kwes, Micachu and Joe Goddard of Hot Chip give this album this album a rough, unique edge. An impressive statement of a debut, Gob is just as good as the moment we first witnessed the fitness.

[Beacon] is the mark of a band who know their sound, have a newfound confidence, and are well-equipped to do some serious damage to the chart this time around.

While the sound of this Tennessee five-piece is hardly shimmering with originality, few have imitated those sunny falsettos and sweet'n'sad melodies quite so irresistibly.

These are warm, appealing tunes with no false bluster or crass anthemism, light years ahead of the bombastic drivel certain peers have offered up this year. The Charlatans are old fashioned, maybe even a little antiquated. But are they past it as songwriters? No way.

The men are going to love it. But the women will still love Richard Hawley, too.

The result is a stylish, intelligent record that does exactly what it set out to do: Girls Names have reinvented their sound and come up smelling of roses.

True Loves delivers on the fantastic promise of its title-track, comprising a commendable listen for those demanding defined individuality from their chosen songsmiths.

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

In other words, it's a perfect match.

Louisville/Seattle trio has delivered an album that every fan of extreme music should own. Bravo.

As musicians, Wolf People gel together like a charm, and have a distinct advantage over a great many modern hard rockers by having a drummer, one Tom Watt, who beats away with a swinging funkiness, like the finest hairballs of 40 years gone.

In another dimension, this is the soundtrack to a high-budget sci-fi romp. In the here and now, it’s a great escape from the drudgery of everyday ordinariness, a rollicking ride on one seriously funky UFO.

The spacious production lends The Wonder Show… an appealing as-live feeling, an intimacy that Oldham has often turned to his advantage in the past and does so again here.

King Animal undeniably draws its strength from the band's accessible Superunknown era, but also takes Soundgarden somewhere fresh.

With little pop appeal, Avey Tare's swampy debut is unlikely to grace top 40 radio playlists. But given time, Down There is a rewarding and fascinating listen, its allure in the seductive atmosphere it exudes with every glistening note and slimy drum fill.

There's not quite an established cohesion from piece to piece--no flawless thread that binds these tracks together as a whole. But this can easily be forgiven, given that it's a debut (a better-realised packaging of the band's obvious potential will surely follow), and that the stylistic detours are always taken with confidence.

A collection of mesmeric, epic stillness.

Pattern + Grid World may sound like an addendum to Cosmogramma, but it's no less essential for that.

One of Jurado's strongest albums in an encouraging line of strong albums.

As ever, whatever the material, Wilson's smooth but husky-toned vocals are highly distinctive, especially when combined with a delivery that savours every word while remaining loose and languid.

A startling debut from a young Canadian RnB artist with huge potential.

Replica recognises the value of disenfranchised pasts, but redesigns our barely-there reminiscences to imbue a singular vision with the subliminal effects of the lost.

A consistently engaging and at times exhilarating listen.

Total Life Forever's break with the past is astutely judged, the execution is even better.

In short, this is an impressive debut album that attests to the originality and expressiveness of its author.

It is the kind of record that might drift by unassumingly lest you lend it a careful ear, but really: the second you do, it rewards unequivocally.

Over a distant wash of keyboards chords, Plaid create a multilayered drift of what sounds like piano and tuned percussion notes. The effect is, literally, scintillating.

It will surprise no one but the most uptight and partisan fans of either group to learn that Gilmour's honeyed, chiming and unchallenging guitar work is a sensual fit for The Orb's expansive, uplifting and soporific electronica.

A refreshing, unusual and diverting first record from two new talents, then, and one to recommend for jaded electro and indie fans who felt the New York scene had gone as far as it could with art-skronk.

As such it's not so much a bad record as a weirdly redundant one: four talented, passionate musicians do a perfectly reasonable job of making a record that sounds a good deal like vintage Springsteen, but fail to really leave their own mark on the music.

Bensussen has delivered a varied, immersive set of highly memorable, enjoyable and danceable tracks that should push him further into the limelight where he has triumphantly proved he belongs.

If the Wu’s raw, unreconstructed side is your poison, Return Of represents a custom-made catchall, hitting robustly yet classily like a fine malt, only minus usually infuriating distillation times.

100% Publishing is a clever balancing act that allows the casual listeners in and retains them with riffs and tunes you can't ignore, but makes sure it's insubordinate enough to keep the regulars happy.

Thea Gilmore's take on John Wesley Harding is a worthy tribute to that great album--and with a playing time of 42.23, it even gives you an extra four minutes more than the original.

[Martha Wainwright] has realised her best record to date.

With this latest release he seems to have come closer then ever to mainstream respectability, while retaining some of his maverick idiosyncrasies.

This is a vivid selection of songs underscored by a bittersweet poetry.

It is an album that gives up its charms slowly, but its painstaking attention to detail, dark shadows and languid depths will see it become an essential companion for many sombre souls in 2011 and beyond.

It's a complex, winding late-night soundtrack that doesn't move too fast, but never stops to question the judgement of its own unique outsider logic.

This is intimacy on a purely aural level, the ultimate headphones album.

So Les Revenants has, by virtue of finding perfect inspiration, become one of the more satisfyingly coherent and rangy of Mogwai's records.

This is an album worth living and breathing to at least attempt to become acquainted with its wealth of emotional nuances and playful eccentricities.

Expectedly, the lacklustre delivery of the vocals throughout this album is its only slight shortcoming. The power of its songwriting and compelling twists and turns are more than enough to carry it though, and it warrants listen after listen after listen.

The contrasts are ecstatic, setting in stone just how remarkable a comeback New Young Pony Club have pulled off. The Optimist is a super-smart pop album at the top of its game.

Teenage Fanclub's first album since 2005's Man-Made, coming so soon after the death of Alex Chilton, has the warmth and poignancy of a tribute, even if writing and recording was all wrapped up by then.

The Shape of Things is, by some margin, Foxx's best album since Metamatic, the 1980 solo debut that has become one of modern electronica's sacred touchstones.

More serious but still jittery, and not without detritus, this is the album that will decide the longevity of Los Campesinos!.

Whether or not the addition of Burrows is solely responsible for the improvement in consistency on this fourth album isn't clear, but Barbara is their best work by far. Current fans will be glad and new ones may be easier to come by.

Her most vivid and enveloping achievement to date.

Despite being disabled with rotten cover art, Ritual is a sturdy affair, and one that should continue White Lies' steady ascent towards something serious and important.

This is an album that's best aired on headphones, at critical volume.

It's dark but not relentlessly brutal. It's even more introspective and dynamic than the pair's collaborations from the first time around.

The record is certainly denser and more difficult to find an entry point into than either of its predecessors; but this is not remotely to say that their label made the right the decision. After several listens, a handful of stone-cold, diamond-hard gems present themselves from of a scree of electronic beats and stentorian rapping/shouting.

As it stands, they've not only crossed over but given themselves the scope to impress even further in future.

SMD lovers will have to content themselves with a deep, well-crafted dance manifesto by two talented producers.

Rock like rock shouldn't be: a rock that your parents wouldn't just love, given a chance, but one that they'd ask you to play again, louder. It ain't right, obviously. But it rocks brilliantly.

Ray is a shining example of creating your own world and inviting the listener in with tunes you can whistle after the first play.

Write About Love is a cracking pop album and a fine addition to a great band's already impressive catalogue.

Tracks like I Still Got It reaffirms that this dude, even at 61, is "cool and dangerous" – and back, back, back.

Thompson's fifth album is a winningly charming affair, showcasing his rich voice.

An instant hit with tasty ingredients, and worth waiting for.

Friendly Fires have already proved themselves, but this second effort is a mighty step upwards. It is another terrific, clattering celebration of an album that sounds nothing like its peers, but hopefully will be rewarded with sales to dwarf Lady Gaga's.

This is a connoisseur's collection, steering clear of hits that have since veered into kitsch (like Release Me or I Can't Stop Loving You) to favour a handful of classics, some less-known treasures, and the title song--a charmer of Cantrell's own that sits snugly among the marvellous covers.

With Audio, Video, Disco, the duo has created their own realm and progressed into a formidable force.

Like Bashkirtseff and Pomeroy before them, Summer Camp's debut marks a sincere, wryly appealing turning point in the art of romanticised retrospection.

In its own right, The Fear... is an impressive piece of work. As inevitable as comparisons with their previous creations are, they shouldn’t detract from what is by anyone else’s standards a major achievement

Foals were already a mainstream presence; now, they’ve made an album properly reflecting that status.

A mighty voice of formidably expressive multitudes, here given room to roam, and to roar.

Truly impressive, The Dø gracefully pull off the kind of intriguing "oddness" the likes of Florence Welch strain and wheeze for, and with better tunes.

It’s hard not to by won over, once again, by Moore’s indomitable, eternal teenager energy.

A polished fourth solo studio LP aimed at mainstream reggae audiences.

the band have still got their peers beat hands down and exhibit enough vision to have you hoping they'll transcend mere re-revivalism yet further with whatever they put out next.

Reboots Scott Walker and the androgynous end of 90s Britpop into distinctive darkwave.

More of the same from Black Joe Lewis – and this is a good thing.

This is a pop dance album par excellence bristling with positivity, tunes and ideas.

Fool’s Gold stretch Western pop templates out into African shapes; and this debut album belies their name by being a genuine gem.

Rumer's debut is an immediately engaging, gently engrossing set. It wears its cracked heart on a neatly stitched sleeve of the most luxurious fabric, strong and elegant despite the hardships that sit of the centre of every song.