A fabulous record.

Ten years after they first assaulted us, Mogwai remain as vital as ever.

'...Broken Seas', though understated and pretty, tingles with furtive sexual chemistry.

On 'Fox Confessor Brings The Flood' Neko's voice and sheer poetry of her song-writing make hyped also-rans like Jenny Lewis look like hot-pant wearing desperados, proving to her rivals and beyond that style and substance aren't mutually exclusive.

Yes, it's a shamelessly arch and overarching achievement, and, make no mistake, some of you out there will hate this record and want to have at it with badly corroded screwdrivers.

His most ambitious and diverse album yet.

They have a habit of getting it very right and very wrong.

'Everything Is' is as frenzied as music gets, full of the energy that only comes with youthfulness, but also tinged with a world weariness that comes with being part of a hugely disaffected and cynical generation.

But this album isn't just really gratingly saccharine, yet simultaneously bland, it's wilfully so.

A tour de force of infectious acid techno and head-rush-inducing electroclash and, as likely as not, this year's essential dance purchase.

Few albums are this evocative, and 'Leaders of the Free World' is a thing of rare beauty indeed.

The trouble is, the much-lauded braggadocio of 'Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not' is hollow.

With 'The Last Romance', a whole lot of people are at last going to fall in love with Arab Strap for the very first time.

Any number of tracks here could easily catapult them back into the consciousness of so much more than the cognoscenti.

'Down in Albion' is a truly abhorrent and occasionally upsetting record.

A gloriously accomplished and very rewarding listen.

It's Emiliana Torrini, Cat Power and Nick Drake all rolled into one, and it's soothing enough to curl up and die for.

'Destroy Rock & Roll' is exponentially more than the sum of its parts.

This is music that never quite settles; it's in perpetual motion.

Far from flawless it may be, but this is a fundamentally fabulous experience.

Their most contemporarily relevant and best album since 'Fox Base Alpha.'

Aside from one or two bore-me-ups, this is an album of understated perfection.

Compared to their offerings to date 'Amber' has the hardest edges, but it wouldn't be Clearlake if it wasn't soft in the centre.

With the ability of the participants, surely there could have been more interesting material to explore, and sadly 'The Brave And The Bold' ends up being anything but.

'For Screening Purposes Only' reeks with the all-pervading whiff of vapid irony.

To be honest this album has been down the pub all day; it doesn't care that you have to go to work in three hours time; it has just burst into your room and demanded the keys to your car and that bottle of Bombay Saphire you were saving for your birthday.

So as sturdy and rocking as 'The Indian Tower' is, it never quite lets you into its world, though if you manage to break on through they're likely to bore you to death by reading Guitarist Monthly aloud and swapping Gary Moore tablature like Pokemon cards.

Turns out what the world was waiting for really was those that saved guitars finally making a record that truly reaped the rewards of their efforts. Is this it? OH GOD YES!