Not much has changed in the futureheads world as, post their major-label career, they bounce-back with independently released third album.

Electro Pop maestros return after three-year hiatus.

Rivers Cuomo and co. deliver another scintillating collection of punk-pop – with added experimentation.

Slinky but less than earthshattering debut from buzzy manhattanites.

Impressive full length debut from enchanting Seattle-ites.

Sleek but insubstantial fourth outing from R&B songstress.

Chicago duo ride to the rescue of hip-hop--on pimped up BMXs.

Phillips’ vocal style is of the quietly devastated Erin Moran/Aimee Mann school, backlit by Bacharach-and-Wilson-ish arrangements on ‘Another Song’, ‘Little Plastic Life’ and ‘Flower Up’.

R’n’B lothario sings the praises of monogamy on patchy fifth album.

A&E isn’t a reinvention for Spiritualized, but while that might be a disappointment for some, the comforting embrace of familiarity shouldn’t be underrated.

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.

Nouveau synth-pop and shoegazer drones mightn’t seem like the wisest bedding for Tom Waits’s compositions, but Scarlett and Sitek know exactly what they’re doing.

Will Oldham gets back to the country.

Inoffensively bland offering from US indie pop outfit.

Would be blockbuster from the Jack Johnson it’s really not okay to like.

And as folksiness, indieness and bittersweet mournfulness set the tone, it also becomes apparent that this is much better than the words ‘folk’ and ‘indie’ on their own suggest.

Couples is by no means a terrible record, I just preferred The Long Blondes when they were young, free and single.

In a surprise move, Alex Turner goes back to 1966

Craig David's back, and in fairness, he makes a decent fist of it. However, David is hamstrung by trying to please both critic and fan.

Certain artists are blessed with the ability to say something poignant and meaningful with their music. On the evidence of this eopnymous record, Gavin DeGraw is not one of them.

Neil doesn’t do things by halves. His words and melodies are, like Roy Orbison, Cecil B De Mille scaled. That said, there are more than a few points where he misses the mark.

Shine remains a terribly average r'n'b album that occasionally flickers with possibility, but never burns brightly enough to matter.

Long awaited comeback from Bristol trip-hop outfit proves worth the wait.

Overwrought second album from Glaswegian indie quartet.

The sassy Swede gives Madge something to think about.

Hard Candy sounds bloody expensive, but has precious little to declare except an infatuation with its own reflection in a nightclub mirror.

Ultimately, this is less a fully-formed debut than the tentative first few steps of a promising artist still finding her way.

Hook-laden agitprop combines with slinky beats on outing number ten from The Roots.