This is grown-up, frequently gorgeous music that epitomises the very best in neo-soul.

An album of great love and joy, Purpose + Grace confirms that Simpson remains at the top of his game.

John Cale's new five-track EP conceives and executes more great ideas in 21 minutes than most musicians do in 10 years.

There's artful variety; the band may have a particular approach, but they're no purists.

What first seemed like an impenetrable puzzle will prove endlessly engrossing.

Though the additions don't enhance the original album's legend, nor do they diminish it any more than the fact that the band sagged once again into artistic complacency after its release.

Biasonic Hot Sauce is a mesmerising album.

Whereas Editors seem to ape the tortured soul of Joy Division, here it's the real deal.

It's both refreshing and exciting to hear an artist so vividly committed to exploring new frontiers in such a rewarding way.

There is nothing quite as uplifting as those previously mentioned numbers, but Metals remains as wonderfully organic and distinct as its predecessors

As with most things on this record, it's a thoroughly engaging ride.

The fabric of the songs seems imbued with joy, and it's testament to the quality of the songwriting that you don't feel alienated by what are incredibly personal lyrics. It's an all-inclusive love in, basically, and all the better for it.

936 is a delight, a ray of welcomed sunshine as the wintry outside fades into shades of grey.

It is unnervingly delicate, endlessly distracting and ultimately addictively tactile as it sneaks under your skin.

The result is an album that is far less-crowded than previous works and one that, on the whole, feels suitably bucolic.

It sounds as if it's the work of human trial and error, rather than a series of computer-coded phrases and melodies, and it's this fragility that really has it standing out as the work of a band hitting its peak.

If you love synth-pop's romantic attachment to a grand, bleak, European aesthetic, then this is the Best Of for you.

Those who cheered as protestors smashed the original windows of the beautiful building of the Supreme Court in December 2010 will find much to like here. But just as importantly, those who winced at such a sight will not be put off The King Blues by stern and outre sentiments, so long as they come expressed in music that is as poised and as palatable as this.

Beyoncé slips from flirty to fragile to fabulous, and is in terrific voice throughout, reminding us that when she opens up there's no-one else in the game.

The true spirit of Christmas is safe in Tracey Thorn's hands.

Such lofty posturing could have easily ended up sounding like the ill-informed scribblings of a sixth-form politics student, but H-p1 is more about mood, feel and texture than lyrical conceit.

That warmth you're feeling come its close, try to hold onto it. It's a contentment few albums leave you with.

The Winter of Mixed Drinks is more polished, more polite than the band’s earlier offerings, but it’s reassuring to note that the band’s scruffy-hearted charm still lies just below the surface.

Phosphorescent's contribution to the new-folk cannon is an impressive and rather lovely addition.

The Soul Sessions Vol 2 is Stone's most focused and rewarding album since Vol 1.

This see-saw, between exquisite gloom and bruised hope, is part of what makes Piramida so powerful.

The strange thing is, for all that it is all over the place, compilations of lost songs and outtakes are not supposed to hang together this well. Or be anywhere near this much fun.

It's another Hukkelberg album to treasure.