It would appear that working-class Coventry trio The Enemy are now officially the next big thing.

Malin has seemingly adopted the persona and sound of his New Jersey counterpart Bruce Springsteen.

After thirty years, Souxise's still twice as interesting as three people half her age.

Cute enough to be mainstream, indie enough to be cool, different enough to stand out but normal enough to be accessible... and sufficiently talented to pull it all off.

Gahan hasn’t arrived at the palace of wisdom yet, but it sounds like he’s enjoying travelling this new route there.

This is a surprisingly enjoyable outing as these things go.

Despite their disparate origins this is no hotchpotch of leftovers and out-takes.

Overpowered is a silvery mirrorball of a record that perfectly illuminates the neon heart of Saturday night.

Sigur Ros’ songs have a tendency to go on way too long, but the group’s peaks are such that we must cherish them, flaws and all.

The group have kept their sound surprisingly fresh incorporating some welcome sonic refinements, without making any great creative leap or departure.

Emo heroes reveal their inner Brian May.

If you're in the mood for something weird, check out this album that fuses psychedelic rock with Cambodian lyrics.

Foo Fighters’ sixth studio album is a transitional rather than definitive piece of work, but one that sees them growing older with 'patience and grace'.

Cyndi’s lost touch with the zeitgeist a bit, and parts of this sound like she’s trying to keep up but this is generally a really good record.

Kylie sticks to formula, makes half decent record.

The Belfast cowboy keeps on making quality records

Their sunniest record yet, Campbell and Lanegan continue to impress with this short, but sweet, mini album.

Irish Rockers still going for the emotional jugular on impressive fifth album.

Country diva channels marriage break-on first LP in nearly a decade.

Although the tunes have plenty of vigour and aggression, as with Employment, Britpop veterans will feel more than a little sense of deja vu.

Lurch into odd-ball avant-pop almost pays off for UK eccentrics.

Athlete's third effort Beyond The Neighbourhood goes some way to restoring their initial well-deserved kudos.

Manics mine Richey’s last words for a return to the heart of darkness.

The Boy With No Name has a handful of absolute crackers, proving that Travis are still capable of penning a tune that wraps its tendrils around your ears and won’t let go until at least four minutes have passed.

Velvet Revolver are a formidable collection of important figures from 80’s and 90’s hard rock, and this strong mixture of personalities lends their music a certain charisma, even when it isn’t particularly accomplished.

Karin from The Knife makes desolate but inspiring dance record.

Revered outsider artist makes move on the mainstream.

Modfather gets his weird on.

Former Be Good Tanya delivers modern americana nugget.

Even listeners previously resistant to The Kills' studied cool may have to concede that Midnight Boom is a record of considerable energy and excitement.

It's like he'd never been away after an absence of five years.

Join With Us proves The Feeling are the band most likely to give power-pop a good name.

So once you get over the fact it’s farcically emo, this album turns out to be a decent enough record to get you in the mood for the Saturday night indie disco.

Widow City is wordy, nerdy, and throws in everything but the hurdy-gurdy.

It’s a case of “been there/done that/snogged someone I shouldn’t have to this track on Saturday night” – and by and large the scene is starting to collapse in on itself.

Mid-career retrospective captures SP’s inner conflicts.

Released on the web fully two months before it hits record stores, Bloc Party’s third album is as gleaming and hermetically sealed as one of Kubrick’s monoliths.

Brummie Rockers offer electro-led punch in the nose.

Unusually for a Teenager, this album has taken a long time to come.

A game of two halves as Brooklyn world music troop go synth pop on split disc.

A sparkling return to form for a band regarded by many as the great lost hope of the early ‘90s.

For Weezer fans awaiting the next installment, it adds up to a fascinating glimpse into the inner workings of Cuomo’s sweet, strange mind.

House-arrested rapper defends his realm.

All-star collective make unholy hot-and-sweaty psycho-blues racket.

Widescreen return from Jam wannabes.

Jason Isbell, formerly of the Drive By Truckers, releases a solid, sad, gritty new album as a solo artist.

Brit pop aesthete goes Rawk--sort of.

Icky Thump is freighted with moments of frazzled virtuosity yet may prove excessively outre for most palettes.

Concept album about cricket from Divine Comedy and Pugwash frontmen hits the sweet spot.

The People’s Princess pleases with Her catchy generic pop

American slacker act back on track.

It’s about time. Electronica merchants Fujiya & Miyagi, formed in 2000, have finally come up with a winning formula eight years into their career.

Neither tearaway maverick nor irrelevant abdicator, Brett Anderson sounds like a man out of time in a time out of joint. No bad thing, necessarily.

Love as a battlefield.

Jack White’s bit on the side return with an accomplished and musically diverse second album.

Heartbroken or not, she’s conceived her finest work in years with Watershed--an album that rewards with every soothing listen.

Hallelujah! Grunge legends stand the test of time.

In places <i>An End Has a Start</i> is bleakly compelling; nevertheless, great swathes of the record strain towards a pasty arena-rock future.

Sigur Ros frontman goes it alone to exhilarating effect.

Strange House is actually an intriguingly intelligent debut.

The manner in which the group weave complex musical tapestries is certainly impressive from a purely technical perspective, but you suspect that they were a lot more fun to assemble than they are to listen to.

Messianic rapper Kanye West has survived grief and heartbreak to expands pop parameters on his new release.

With an album proper to offer this time around, it seems that Johnson is back with a vengeance--fans of his effortlessly laid-back acoustic fare will immediately warm to this strong collection of songs.

Too cool for school? Maybe. But if Liars aren’t anybody’s idea of easy listening, by gum, they’re never dull, and for that, we salute them.

Q-Tip demonstrates his unique talent in this sleek, soulful, silky-smooth hip-hop album.

80s-centric brooklyn trio deliver complex second album.

Bluefinger is probably the sprightliest solo collection of songs Frank Black has recorded to date.

Mathangi Arulpragasam delivers intriguingly fluxed up genre bending third album.

Good, not great, comeback from epic Mancs.

Many of the ditties on Unfamiliar Faces bring us right back to the golden age of singer-songwriters.

Decent stab at Queens Of The Stone Age rawk from Mrs. Josh Homme.

For all the state-of-the-art urban production, there’s something distinctly unsavoury about Blackout. And yet, the truly bizarre thing is, the music is top notch.

It’s a little long at 17 tracks, and hard to take in one sitting, but these songs present Americana in such an oddly compelling way that it’s almost impossible to ignore.

The Wu-Tang Clan are undoubtedly in decline, but given the musical peaks they have scaled in the past, there remains plenty of sublime scenery to observe on the way down.

Snoozy delights from the polyphonic twee whose outright nerdiness is charming.

Metallica certainly have a lot to prove with Death Magnetic, the follow-up to 2003’s "St. Anger," an album which divided the critics and the band’s own audience.

Strokes frontman ditches leather jacket, reinvents self as DIY Gary Numan.

Norwegian masters of melancholic synth-pop get back to basics.

If it ain’t broke you may smear it with red lipstick and back-comb its hair. But do NOT fix it.

Ahead of their Electric Picnic date, the LA rockers ditch their mainstream sheen on their fourth album.

68-year-old lothario goes back to his white soul roots with a passionate performance showing that Jones still has "it."

Swedes living la vida on curious new outing.

Slinky but less than earthshattering debut from buzzy manhattanites.

Lennox’s glossy white-soul template does sound a bit dated but she's still impressive when she gets it right.

A boisterous and bratty collection of hook-swamped shout-alongs.

Kweli's collaborative work has set the bar so high that his solo efforts routinely fail to meet these exalted expectations.

Never a dull moment then, but a little consistency would go a long way for The Used.

Maybe I've become too familiar with what they’re trying to achieve--but right now there’s nothing here to make me instantly love this record.

A respectable collection which raises the question: why do the Killers pad their albums out with mediocre filler, when they have at least some decent alternative material to spare?

There are some excellent moments.

Think a more ragged Belle & Sebastian, and you’re not far off.

His take on crunk (which is so generic it feels generous to even call it a “take”) feels flimsy and devoid of hooks, although the lightly Carribean production touches do show a smidgeon of promise.

Accelerate is patchy at best, with only the blaring finale, ‘I’m Gonna DJ’, really catching the attention.

Necessary Evil is bereft of surprises and is pretty much as you would expect it to be.

STP singer on the solo comeback trail.

A surprising afro-beat, trance-pop return from Penate.

Michael Angelakos, aka Passion Pit, brings us a temporary electro pop classic.

Jazz maestro takes a turn towards the electro.