However maudlin Noah & The Whale begin, then, there's a wonderful narrative here that sees them move from first-love blues, through resentment to healing and finally to acceptance.

'Post-rock', which Sigur Rós most assuredly are, may be little more than the shoegazing of a decade ago in an ironic T-shirt, but that's no reason to dismiss it outright. For a start, much of it is very lovely.

Andorra feels free and fresh, comfortable exploring its own sonic identity.

It's truly intriguing in the way PJ albums haven't been since the commanding "To Bring You My Love" back in 1995.

Essentially a homage to The Jackson 5/Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder and fellow Minnesotan Prince, "The Handler" proves that Har Mar possesses a fine R&B baritone, is an able rapper and pens exceedingly funky, party-primed tunes with a perfect pop core.

It’s not as remarkable a transformation as the one Rick Rubin performed on Johnny Cash, but this is a fine collection and as pleasurable a listen as it undoubtedly was to record.

If you're not a fan of their weighty retro riffs, Into The Future is not going to sway you; but those who loved their self-titled debut will thrill to the darker, more convincing sounds of former single 'Stormy High' with its Plantish wails and solid Sabbathy riffs.

This is a record that proves, again, Joss Stone's considerable worth.

All in, this is a terrific, life-affirming and, at times, deeply romantic album - one that proves the potentials in both rock'n'roll and the electric guitar.

Weller fans can once again breathe a sigh of relief, for the man's still got it.

It's a dizzyingly impressive debut.

It’s both an oddly comforting and exhilarating trip.

What emerges is Sonic Youth at complete ease with themselves and their music, operating simultaneously at the peak of their powers and with a powerful, audacious restraint.

Importantly, while The Stands’ obvious musical loves cannot be faulted, it’s their own inimitable style that makes them more than just another retro outfit.

A savvy, shiny, slyly sophisticated set of thoroughly modern dance floor exercises, it's the record we hoped Girls Aloud might make.

The main criticism of bands built on laptops is that they lack soul but while Telepathe's 'processes' may be intrinsically stylized, tracks like these and the thriving, exhilarating 'Devil's Trident' still carry moments of genuine romance, innocence and drama.

The record's treasure is folded into layers which make it an endlessly rewarding place to invest a couple of months of your life.

Rambunctious and packed with a lust for life, "We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Seesions" is not only Springsteen's rowdiest set in years, it's the one that seems likely to win him a whole new audience.

He still tinkles the ivories with dazzling skill and his scything comments on breaking-up and the emotionally inept are all too easy to identify with, yet the most enamouring thing is that he manages to do this all without being zany or patronising.

It's quite brilliant, the one thing we have come to expect from this band.

Musically, too, there's a definite sense of progression. These tracks have a richer and warmer sound than anything the band have previously released, and rather than standalone expressions of emotional dysfunction, they feel very much connected, bound together by their complex arrangements and sumptuous yet subtle production.

Warm and welcoming.

There's a rolling, free and expansive feel to the album as a whole that is not only one of its most attractive features, but is also the most difficult thing about it to pin down.

Maclean is clearly a scholar of electro/disco and each number is exquisitely arranged and executed, every synth sound modulates just so as it fades, every reference point lovingly rendered and the whole thing is buffed with a contemporary polish that eschews none of the off-kilter humanity that keeps disco delightfully distinct from its explicitly mechanised dancefloor cousins.

Miraculously, given the similarity of the design, 'Meteora' avoids being a stagnant retread of 'Hybrid Theory'.

'Vol. One' might have opened the band up to a wider audience but 'Vol. Two' is a far better reflection of what Everclear are all about.

They now have more in common with Jane's Addiction and the Red Hot Chili Peppers than they do their former mentors Papa Roach.

Despite Brown's unquestionably limited vocal range, the minute pitch shifts of his voice are well suited to the stoned-wonder of tracks like 'Set My Baby Free', 'Neptune' and 'Dolphins Were Monkeys'. It's on these blissed out, chilled moments that the album really shines.