It will surely be remembered as perhaps the greatest Frank Black LP (to date, at least) and perhaps even as the record that made it cool to like country again.

The whole album is awash with reminders of not just how good The Breeders were, but how good The Breeders still are.

God’s Favorite Customer is the next chapter to Honeybear: the story of the hedonistic shroom-addled Hollywood waster who fell in love and started to grow up, even if the occasional pelvic thrust, sardonically raised eyebrow or over-dramatic fall to the floor wouldn’t go amiss.

Sundfør's combination of careful, detailed arrangement and unrepentant magic realism is visionary and enriching.

While the two outer instrumentals are undeniably moving, this record is definitely Mark Lanegan's. There is no voice quite like his--and none that leaves the same impact.

While Thought Forms impress, it is Esben And The Witch who in two tracks, in 15 brief minutes, absolutely stun.

It’s a work that’s beautifully single minded, but may be a little too much of an undertaking for some. What’s inescapable is that it’s the sound of a person bravely questioning her place in the world, often in inspired fashion.

Holden has created a life-affirming hour in the musical heavens, just as the title promises.

This is something we've been waiting a long time for - a truly great Manics album.

Overall, since their formation in 1997, The Dillinger Escape Plan have seamlessly fused math metal with aspects of pop and jazz, a trend that wholeheartedly continues on One Of Us Is The Killer.

This could be the biggest revelation of the lot. It simply does not get any better than Love.

Although the departure of Weiss is sad, it hasn’t diminished any of Brownstein and Tucker’s power: The Centre Won’t Hold sees them as vital, compelling and as searingly relevant as ever.

It’s a bold, contemporary sounding record that is also aware of its broader lineage, something encapsulated by opening track Stranger Than Fiction.

Whilst it obviously won’t be eligible for the Mercury Music Prize on the basis of nationality, this compelling, rigorous and often beautiful work ought to receive the same level of attention as Jessie Ware’s debut.

He doesn't ever disappear too far up his backside, instead keeping an attentive ear on what his devotees might still want to hear.

Föllakzoid carry forward both traditions in their own uncompromising way, and with III they deliver their most polished album to date, and their most coherent statement of how they relate to their forebears.

Once again, this is the sound of Wrekmeister Harmonies reporting back from the edges of existence and experience where, on this evidence, it’s both terrifying and beautiful.

It’s about clean lines, geometric beauty and clear sincerity. But it also has depth, richness and luxurious colour. It can be taken as superficially perfect pop music, or you can listen a little deeper and hear just how intricately woven her heartbreak anthems really are. She is an artist in the truest sense. And Honey is her latest masterpiece.

De Facto takes all that was good about Lorelle Meets The Obsolete and makes it even better. The groovier undercarriage suits their sound, as do the enhanced keyboards, and the substance of their music is hugely impressive.

There's absolutely nothing indecisive (or indeed shit) about this album. It's swaggering, full-throttle, full-throated genius.

This could well be Midlake's masterpiece, which is saying something considering the esteem in which The Trials Of Van Occupanther is held.

For what it sets out to do, it's damn near perfect, and what higher praise is there than that?

While James Blake came good on his Mercury prize winning second album, William Doyle as East India Youth has delivered a stunningly exquisite work on his very first go.

By the time we reach closing track Who Brings Me the journey through the cloudscape is complete, sealing an experience that is equal parts head and heart music. It’s an absorbing, cohesive listen that casts fresh light on familiar structures and melds them into new and appealing shapes.

Paradise is the sound of a more mature and confident Slow Club, but without losing that adorable edge that's so vital to them. Start clearing some space at the top of those 'Best of 2011' lists, for this is sure to figure.

This is real music, about real people, dealing in real emotion. That it sounds so gorgeously lush too is mere icing on a very rich cake.

There’s not an ounce of fat to be found. It might be a little lo-fi in places, but it doesn’t matter, this is the definition of an album that is all-killer-no-filler.

This being Cave, classy lyrical dexterity is never far away. But here the fire and brimstone preacher is a little less po-faced than much of his back catalogue, allowing humour (still black as coal) to gain the upper hand.