Rattle’s greatest accomplishment isn’t to just write music for drums, but to write songs that capture AND transcend this modern era we live in.

If you can name me just one rapper that made a more complete record in 2003 than either of these two Southern boys' efforts, I’ll call you a liar.

It is a beautiful result that, through the austere and effortlessly enchanting tunes, leaves you feeling the emotion infinitely more than any self-professed ‘emo’ might.

Superchunk have made a record that ties experience to the present, instinct to wisdom, youthful vigor to aged knowledge, everything in the world to a passion for music.

The Monitor, then, is a boisterous, eloquent argument that rock music need not be dumb in order to be enjoyable, moreover, that we should be questioning and analysing our heritage rather than precariously stumbling onwards. But mostly, it's just a stupendous collection of songs; one that demands to be listened to as loudly as you can possibly get away with.

A record built on restraint, tinged by poignancy and wrapped up in poetic human emotion. Quite wonderful.

Bad As Me sees the performer reaching back into his bag of tricks to pull out a few favourites in a characteristically exhilarating, terrifying, heartbreaking, tear jerking, bone-rattling style.

The improvement in sound quality on the re-release is remarkable; the songs, incredibly, sound even meatier and more imposing now. ... The nine 'new' songs, which comprise disc three, do feel a bit like fan service for those who were upset 19 years ago at the absence of the ‘Sunshine Woman’ sessions.

The Distant Sky EP is what happens when a lone wolf suddenly needs to reach out and touch. It’s the chaotic scream around loosing a child. It’s a careful help me into the darkness. It’s an invitation to come closer, to hold hands--at last, be close to our St Nick. And it’s fucking glorious. It could have done with a better mix, though.

Bruner/Thundercat has tamed (to some extent at least) his scope and ambition through his various influences and thoughts to make his third full-length album a joyful, crazy, substance-fuelled epic in an area where most of his contemporaries would take themselves endlessly seriously. Here, Bruner has harnessed all that into maybe his best record yet.

From the Sea to the Land Beyond sees British Sea Power operating on a different level. A wonderful hymn to the island we call home.

An hour of music which can be moving, transcendent, invigorating and relaxing all in a matter of minutes.

This is an album that could easily be subtitled Mission Accomplished, but for once, it feels like bowing out on top would be ill-advised. That, in itself, is quite the compliment.

Overall, Journal For Plague Lovers is a strident comeback that would have been a worthy direct successor to "The Holy Bible" had circumstances been different.

Bejar's reckless approach to romance is almost certainly one of those things you'd live to regret, but that's the appeal of great artistic endeavours: when the writer can pull in his audience so completely that we experience all the adventure while risking none of the consequences.

Every note is considered and played with joy, care and a sense of craft. Together with the record's beautiful packaging, Cervantine feels like a personal historical document, speaking to and from the soul.

Rather than sound like two guys in their fifties messing around with some expensive equipment to recapture their past glories, it’s strikingly modern.

Asobi Seksu are a band possessing talent and ability far beyond their years and with Citrus they have fully realised their potential in a particularly short time. It is difficult to see how they will be able to better this sophomore release, but you wouldn't bet against them having a few trump cards left up their collective sleeves.

The record sounds like a seamless amalgamation of the three Hole eras (punk, grunge and rock), with Dalle’s ska roots almost entirely supplanted in favour of a grungier muse.

A very special record, indeed.

Merritt has lifted the curtain JUST enough to draw us that bit more into his world, while still maintaining both his brilliantly singular world-view and style AND enough distance for us to look on in abject admiration.

Not only does Sneaks survive the sophomore slump, she dances circles five circles round it without ever (EVER) skipping a beat.

Return To Cookie Mountain is a party soundtrack for a fucked-up generation and an opus that inhabits the midpoint between the scarcely conjoining circles of eclecticism and enjoyability whilst maintaining consistency throughout.

This is Crimes refined, sculpted so that its edges aren’t as jagged as many sound-clashes past have proved to be; it exhibits managed eccentricity enough to stoke the furnaces of intelligent, demand-more punks worldwide.

To have taken the most complex psychological crisis and distilled it into a record which is not only so powerful but also so coherent and assured is awe-inspiring. Malody is a towering testimony to the power of song and marks the (re)birth of an exceptional artist.

Adventurous and bold yet distinctive in execution, No Time represents Dan Reeves' most essential body of work to date.

A good deal of the success of C'mon is down to its solid foundations – its quality song-writing and deft sequencing.

Everything about Beak> is a cohesive, ambitious and thoughtfully-executed murky delight. A godsend of a record in these times of landfill indie.