White Denim somehow manage to cover all points of the musical compass without ever losing their overall sense of direction.

Trumpeter Mathias Eick has a sound that gently beckons and, like softly spoken conversation, you instinctively lean forward to catch every gesture. One you'll listen to on repeat to fathom its subtle meanings.

Here lie gorgeous tunes that are lithe enough to cope with the little bursts of sonic madness that flit around like overproduced Eighties butterflies.

While their coming-of-age tales entertain some, it's their 'us versus the world ' spirit that makes this such an enthralling debut.

Embryonic is certainly not without charm, but its title gives the game away. Largely, it's the sound of a band seeking inspiration rather than finding it.

Offend Maggie is head-spinning bliss from beginning to end, and proves that the quartet are the best prog-rock post-punk Afro-Oriental art-pop folk-jazz band in the world.

Think Scott Walker punching a side of beef, and know that here's another who's wandered off the path of teen pop success to find a world that's far more interesting (if far from easy listening).

This is a heavyweight album in every sense of the word.

That The Crying Light vibrates with confidence will be no surprise to anyone who witnessed last year's remarkable shows at London's Barbican.

Tones of Town finds Field Music... hurling themselves into an abyss of pastoral abstraction with a wholeheartedness that is utterly thrilling.

As wonderful as it is unexpected, Dirt Farmer is a strong candidate for comeback of the year.

With bands like Vampire Weekend so keen on appropriating the polyrhythmic thunder of their African peers, it's only fitting that these childhood friends should often sound like art rock sensations from Brooklyn.

This, their fourth album, feels like a breakthrough, more polished and poised to build on cult 2006 single 'Lloyd, Are You Ready to Be Heartbroken?'

With this second album cementing the union between Mariam Wallentin's impassioned gut-bucket vocals and Andreas Werliin's busy percussion, they are on their way to becoming the White Stripes in reverse.

The good news is that the ninth album from these inveterate melancholics is a burnished pleasure.

Certainly Levi's mannered vocal style, with its brittle helium edge, requires a bit of commitment from the listener. Immerse yourself in Black Magick Party's world, though, and you will become hopelessly attached.

It is also a sound that on this, their fifth album, seems as resistant to change as the forces of nature and while seemingly limited in palette, is as expansive as it is inventive.

There's too much jokey bluster, and little ground is broken, but this is an entertaining diversion.

Rhys has made both his wildest and most accessible record to date.

Nothing Harvey has done in the past, however, can prepare you for her eighth album, White Chalk, whose cover is as singular as the tunes therein.

Spun-out psychedelia, world-weary Appalachian bluegrass and soulful blues make up his first solo album, proving that in the right hands, nostalgia can become a delicate, authentic rediscovery rather than the clunky retread that so many settle for.

A singularly rousing gem.

The tumescent, endlessly inventive songs are seldom less than exquisitely performed.

Bleak and evocative.

Trouble is, save for the soft bits being softer and the hard bits being harder, it's practically a replica of its predecessors.

The result splendidly combines piety with celebration and musical tradition with creative boldness.

It's more jaunty nouveau Traveling Wilburys than folk rock summit as Bright Eyes' Conor Oberst, My Morning Jacket's Jim James and M Ward join forces.