What's apparent from playing this album is that almost everything they've got is a killer single.

Polly Harvey’s contradictory sure, but the complexities of her character and where she is right now are expressed with an honesty and intensity few artists can ever even begin to think about mustering.

'Brother Is To Son' has to be listened to many a times before certain things start to fall into place. But when they do, boy, they sound great!

Now there was nothing wrong with Stone Temple Pilots, but anyone who’d hoped for Guns‘n’Roses mark II (or III) will be very seriously disappointed. Weiland’s dry, powerful voice cancels out the music, like light cancels out dark, or Owen Wilson cancels out Ben Stiller.

A decent album, then. But one containing an EP that would've had us going "!!!!!".

The whole thing makes for a masterclass in enigma and economy.

It nods in so many directions that our heads should be spinning, but the gel in the system is a linear production ethic that weaves the threads whilst keeping it refreshingly rough.

'I Com' delivers on all the promise that preceded it and makes quantum leaps of brilliance every time it's played.

This record is more riddled with more clichés and pure, retro water-treading embarrassment than anything [Courntey] Love ever conjured up.

However, if 'Devin Dazzle And The Neon Fever' proves anything, it proves that Felix knows three years have passed since [Kittenz]. Now he's partying like it's 1984. It's a development of almost comical chutzpah, and it's one that he wears terrifically well.

While this album is hardly a sellout or a mellowing down, its shifting in direction, its differing textures make it far better than 'Iowa'.

Basically, this is a fantastic band releasing twelve brilliant songs, and it's not only the best guitar album you'll ever hear with no guitars on it, it's one of the best this year generally.

Lethally simple pop tunes which sound like they were written during a particularly good seaside holiday in 1974.

A rock-solid album that improves with each listen.

It’s good fun, it’s a scream, and it stands up well to the likes of '...Do Dallas'.

If The Delays had succeeded in making the latter five-sixths of their debut as wondrous as the first portion, they could be credited with fair miracles.

But even on those tracks that don't make the cut as RJ stand-outs almost everywhere you care to look there are stylish touches and subtleties waiting to be discovered with each subsequent listen.

A weak Meth album produced poorly and without imagination in the main, by an assortment of losers, with each track featuring a guest emcee.

The production is simplicity itself, and by the end you won't remember 'Remember Today' from 'Every Stitch', and you won't know whether 'End To Begin' is at the beginning or the end, or even in the middle.

Most of the hooks are appalling - a few, sung by Skinner, like 'Such A Twat', and opener 'It Was Supposed To Be So Easy' are enjoyable, but when he lets his mates croon soupily all over his beats, shit gets distinctly unpleasant.

While 'You Are The Quarry' is a very good album it's not the earth shattering masterpiece many had hoped for, nay, expected.

‘Up At The Lake’ lifts the best bits from pop’s past and melds them into a largely agreeable, but ultimately underwhelming, classic rock album.

Underpinning this wry melancholy are the winsome languor of Stephin Merritt's voice and the generous stash of tunes.

It's not easy listening, it's scarcely fashionable,... and, to be frank, it's not exactly the best advert for Joel's generally estimable talents.

We've rooted for them and been scantly rewarded, but at last they’ve done it - 'Heroes To Zeros’ is great and they know it.

This is a brooding, thoughtful work, a band stripped bare, naked music and raw emotion, beautifully sung and played with the command of a band that knows less is more is the key to great rock'n'roll.

This record is about as bad it is possible for a record to be. It is offensive on every level - the music is bad, the rapping is bad, the sleeve is bad.

At least 'Musicology' reunites us with that trademark Prince sound, that regal sparkle that’s influenced many and been matched by none.