'Sound Of Silver' is the album of the year.

This could be Modest Mouse's finest hour were it not a little long - the nuances are occasionally rather swamped by the effort of listening to the hour-long record through.

This is no mere regression into a tried and tested formula for the Duluth trio. Each of these tracks is more than their trademark guitar, bass, drum soundscapes with delicate vocals hovering above the mix.

His most poignant and accessible album yet.

Malin once more acts as skilled arbitrator between classic rock and punk, just this time around he's a little more sympathetic towards the boisterous aims of the latter.

This is a record that will so quickly get under your skin and fill your head with such a bounty of melodies that the only way to relieve the swelling is to joyously whistle them out.

'Why Bother' is a testing listen, of course, and after a while the vocals can begin to make your brain start to dissolve in minor whirlpools.

It seems - for the first time, perhaps - he's made one out of love for the artform alone rather than with the added motive of letting off a little barely-suppressed rage or feeling he has scores to settle, either with the industry or himself.

Such is the reliance on his voice to provide resonance both melodically and lyrically, there isn't a great deal else to fall back on should the listener find it objectionable.

Much of the LP's success can be put down to the completeness of the world that I'm From Barcelona create and promptly invite you into.

The Ponys are the band Black Rebel Motorcycle tried so desperately hard to be.

With 'Ten New Messages' The Rakes have pulled off the knack of being able to deliver a series of songs that are longer and deeper but equally as memorable as the spiky missives spat on their debut.

The View are a study of all the essentials of British rock & roll.

'Pocket Symphony' fails to grab in the same way that previous Air albums have and places too large an emphasis on mood, texture and composition to ever really be anything other than polite background music.

This veers between quite good and bloody rubbish with only a couple of flashes of brilliance here or there.

Gruff Rhys is one of our most imaginative and original musicians.

It's a rather sad indictment that by the end of the album you almost forget its The Stooges gainfully toiling away.

A fascinating work of collage that never gets tedious or faddy.

An absolute triumph from one of the most consistently forward looking hip hop bands in the world today.

It's inevitable having enjoyed their partnership for so long, that you occasionally feel the lack of Moffat's brutal honesty, but Middleton grows more interesting with each solo release.

If Simple Kid is too simple for you, if you always liked Supergrass but never thought they pushed their material to its astral conclusion and felt their retro musings were a little too close to the original blueprint, then this baby, is for you.

Alas, 'The Cost' is closer to the Noughties ipoddery of 'sensitive' folksters like Damien Rice or James Blunt than a Fleetwood Mac or a James Taylor.

It is a lot of fun, brilliantly produced and is the perfect winter soundtrack to plans for a summer road-trip.

It's not overestimating matters to call 'Tones of Town' a timeless masterpiece.

'A Weekend In The City'... fails because it tells us nothing new.

Moffat knows how to conduct, contort and concoct fountains of melancholia.

These songs are full to the brim with ideas and a charming naivety - but there's a major hurdle that ultimately compromises the enjoyment: the vocals.

The only disappointment is it's all probably way too leftfield for generic consumption, meaning most people won't actually get to hear it.