As with other really good bands in this genre (such as Franz Ferdinand and Interpol) it transcends being just a mere mash of influences.

The energy that spills forth from these grooves hails both the positive power of loud guitars and gorges itself on the general insanity of life, but nails it all home with a knowing melodic sense of the anthemic and a musical complexity which elevates the entire album beyond mere thrash and burn histrionics.

Like post-Kelli Sneaker Pimps or a goth Massive Attack, it adds slow trip-hop beats and whispery vocals to a dreamy soundscape.

His best music has a kind of timbral vulnerability about it that makes you want to reach out and kiss his computer better.

This is Justin Timberlake squealing like Michael Jackson's pet monkey, a recipe for joy if ever there was one.

This isn't really a party record, more of a reflective, late night curled up on the couch with a loved one record.

His most poignant and accessible album yet.

It feels like one of the most uncompromising and oddly impactful offerings they've produced in many years.

Tender melodies, modern scrapes and traditional beauty merge into a gently unfolded whole that touches the soul with its silky aesthetics.

His most ambitious and diverse album yet.

It’s this rediscovery of how to make pop music with loud guitars and peculiar sounds which makes Kaito so fresh.

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.

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.

Underpinning this wry melancholy are the winsome languor of Stephin Merritt's voice and the generous stash of tunes.

Essentially, 'Employment' is a very British record; an entirely Britpop creation spawned ten years after the event.

'Gold And Green' is such a joyous rattlebag of a record, so untrammelled by convention and received wisdom that it tends to make Keiran Hebden's last effort sound a bit like mid 90s stoner trip hop.

'Victory for the Comic Muse' is the Divine Comedy's finest album since their post-Britpop Chris Evans-approved heyday.

She has rediscovered The Beat, giving us such funk-strewn gems as 'Trust A Try' and 'You Ain't Right'.

[A] confusing but entertainingly eccentric package.

The cool thing about Solex's sampledelia is that she can do it with humour and still avoid the high-frequency buzzing, 60s hi-fi demonstration records and bongwater bubble traps.

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.

There are moments of prog rock, jazz fusion and freakydelia in this rush of ideas and if that sounds awful then don't be put off. Instead of the shambolic mess that this kinda influence normally entails Mars Volta have come strictly disciplined.

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

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

The record is littered with highlights.

For anyone with even half a hankering for electronic heaven, this is non-stop introspective wonderland.

Basically, it's the album they'd always promised us they'd make; consider 'The Decline...' British Sea Power's entrance pass to the ranks of the truly mighty.

'Playing the Angel' is hardly the most essential Depeche Mode album ever, but it is Depeche Mode doing what they do best.