The Village largely whispers rather than shouts, and it's all the more powerful for it.

There's a modicum of standard Teenage-Fanclub-meets-Mekons indie jangle. Far more interesting, however, are the dreamy, dazed disco tunes.

There is no shortage of shimmery songcraft here.

Rocky's rhymes are believable when reminiscing about growing up poor.

A genuine classic, in fact.

It's sprawling, overdue and not for everyone, but at least it's not a play-it-safe comeback with the hot producer of the day.

Neville almost levitates through doo-wop, soul and R&B standards.

It marries a downbeat songcraft to an expansive sound courtesy of producers Guy Garvey and Craig Potter.

It's that rare commodity: an album to immerse yourself in and spend time with, both things no one does any more.

Arc is built with daytime radio in mind as much as the indie disco.

There are enough album tracks and B-sides to make the case that what we actually had in 10cc was a British Steely Dan: clever, funny and funky as hell when they wanted to be.

In its own downbeat, understated way, Tinsel and Lights does more for festive good cheer than any number of more traditional Christmas albums that go straight for the razzle-dazzle.

It's deeply engrossing and rings resoundingly with cultural and historical truth.

The orchestra's work is subtle and supportive rather than flashy, allowing free rein to that astonishing voice.

How you respond will depend on how you react to such gubbins being brought to bear on Merritt's A-to-B-and-back melodic sense. No doubting its realness, though.

"I Wanna Talk 2 U", [is] just one highlight of an album which manages to be sonically inventive, dense and complex and melodically accessible.

A surprising (if a little sad) return to form.

Walker is almost unique among his generation in continuing to provide mind-food instead of cosy nostalgia. If you go into Bish Bosch half-wishing he'd belt out a ballad, you leave it with absolutely no regrets.

Carry Me Back ticks all the boxes: jaunty, soulful, nostalgic without being cloying.

It's tender, touching and not nearly as miserable as its subject matter suggests.

An album which should win prizes (but won't), and hearts (and will).

An atmospheric yet danceable debut.

Winehouse's progression from fresh-faced ingénue to agonised diva is operatic stuff.

D&B&G is delicate and unaffected but clever and soulful--a balm and an inquisition.

Should you be struck by a nostalgic mood yourself, Oui Oui Si Si Ja Ja Da Da is a Madness album like they used to make 'em.

This one's a beauty.

If the Mayans were right and the world really is going to end this December, you won't hear many better soundtracks than this.

The upbeat tracks are as catchy as conjunctivitis.