The guitar-led Kingdom pokes at Brexit and the messiness of our government but lacks personal touches, as does by-numbers ballad To Lose Someone. But these are mild complaints amid otherwise distinctive songwriting.

He and Dessner have alighted on a magnificently big-hearted and original seam of songcraft.

Deploying a lot more hardware, they've made the textures thicker, the extremes scarier, and the soundscape more diverse.

It’s not all so nuanced and well-written, though. Hey Big Eyes is tepid trip-hop, and Ocean of Tears is as gratingly overwrought as its title, even if Polachek’s vocal control is as exceptional here as it is throughout. But overall, Pang is a vivid and melodious portrait of a restless heart.

Throughout, Fool's Gold lollop along confidently, Top's husky croon offset by Lewis Pesacov's guitar lines, like dewy spider's web.

Unlike with its two predecessors, you’re almost never struck by the sensation of a band deliberately trying to suppress the urge to write tunes.

The music blends Irish uilleann pipes, whistle and fiddles with Mexican guitars, banjo and trumpets, and the cast of singers ranges from Lila Downs and Linda Ronstadt to the extraordinary, passionate 90-year-old ranchero star, Chavela Vargas. Then there's moody guitar instrumental work and a fine, sturdy ballad (in English) from Cooder. Grammy nominations are a certainty.

Unpromising and unassuming at first glance, its highlights burrow under your skin and stay there.

By comparison, Noir's closest current peers, Super Furry Animals, seem like fusty older brothers.

For all its highlights, however, Ta-Dah is haunted by the thought that the Scissors Sisters can't keep this up much longer.

Camila is one of those moments where the committee approach strikes gold: smart enough to avoid smoothing out the quirks and slavishly chasing trends, it’s a product of the pop factory that doesn’t sound run-of-the-mill.

This is a multi-faceted delight from start to finish.

A wonderful album, packed with stunning melodies and brilliant lyrics.

For its 50th anniversary, producer Joe Henry gathers a stellar house band that takes turns to lead.... Very fine.

His first album for five years is still a folk record at heart, but one swathed in electronic orchestrations.

Akinmusire's arresting sound and the collective strength of his band of long-time friends--the dry-toned, Wayne Shorter-like saxophonist Walter Smith III, pianist Gerald Clayton, bassist Harish Raghavan and drummer Justin Brown--power it all.

Iyer is the antithesis of a ­contained and cerebral artist. ­Historicity, for the traditional jazz ­format of an acoustic piano trio, features fewer explicit ­contrasts of tonality and ­extremities of drama than Iyer's more familiar duets with saxist Rudresh Mahanthappa, but it offers a different agenda.

Complex and jagged, Eye Contact unveils its charms slowly, but once it does, you'll want to immerse yourself completely.

These are quietly powerful and chilling songs with sensitive, restrained backing from Huw Warren on piano, Andy Cutting on accordion, Mark Emerson on violin and Tim Harries on bass.

Their third album is a frothfest of colour and light, with a joyous disregard for genre boundaries, but almost zilch in the way of introspection.

It seems faintly ridiculous typing this, given that it's 2013 and not 1952, but the very fact that a mainstream R&B artist has released an album open to that interpretation [of a relationship between two women] feels an impressively bold move.

He mimics the hip-hop mainstream to brilliant effect, and tracks such as Do I Make You Feel Shy, I'm the Man, That Will Find You and Roll With You fuse such a surreal mix of pixie enchantment and pimped-out creepiness that it's impossible not to be seduced.

For such a gargantuan album, it’s surprisingly light on its feet, skipping nimbly between musical styles.

With songs as good as these, there’s no need to grow up and stop slacking off.

An ambitious and rewarding debut.

This is a curious, wilfully inventive album that deserves wider attention.

Tracks such as Hawkmoth and OH pull the listener in with their dreamy harmonies, typifying a style that has infused contemporary pop and R&B, and influenced producers including Hit-Boy and Clams Casino.

Although they occasionally overindulge--the eight minutes of Slow Death are aptly titled--for the most part The Night Creeper is taut and dynamic.