Reykjavík-based noise quartet Sigur Ros are the biggest band in their native Iceland, which should say much, much more about the collective insanity of that earthquake-ridden, blizzard-beaten crag of an island than anything to do with Sigur Ros' sound. But in their music, Sigur Ros reflect all the breathtaking glory of the Icelandic wastes-a fairy-tale explosion of unhinged elemental majesty that's finally crystalised here, their debut European release. Poised somewhere between the haunting soundscapes of Labradford and the lilting Celtic falsetto of Enya, Agaetis Byrjun is a truly breathtaking listen. Frontman Jon Por Birgisson sings in a language that Sigur Ros dub Hopelandic-an otherworldly mutation of Icelandic, sung in the falsetto cadence of angels; similarly, he plays his guitar with a violin bow, opening the floodgates for brilliant waves of feedback. And while it's the opening "Svefn-G-Englar" that's Sigur Ros' defining moment to date, there's far more that Agaetis Byrjun has to offer; the pomp and flourish of a full orchestra on "Flugufrelsarinn", or the awe-inspiring near-religious mantra of "Ny Batteri". -Louis Pattison.

This is the perfect way to hear Madonna: no album filler, just one hit after another. As a singles artist, she works wonders: quick, danceable tunes that are occasionally "controversial" but never set out to change the world (and don't). The Immaculate Collection begins with her earliest work ("Holiday", "Borderline") and matures from there ("Papa Don't Preach", "Like A Prayer"), ending in 1990. The highlight is the inclusion of "Justify My Love", a track recorded specifically for this compilation. One caveat: since Madonna is a true video artist, it'd be even nicer to "see" these songs. -Rob O'Connor.

Traditionally, Kylie Minogue has been at her best attempting pure pop, not chasing credibility, but X-her tenth studio album, and the first since 2003's Body Language-somehow pulls off the trick of being both. With production credits split between old hands like Richard Stannard and Guy Chambers and new faces like Calvin Harris, the Freemasons and Bloodshy & Avant, the Swedish team behind Britney's "Toxic", X does a neat job of matching big hooks with forward-thinking production tricks. The poptimistic Kylie fan will head straight for "2 Hearts", a sassy falling-for-you number with a glammy beat and a chorus poised to fill a thousand Karaoke rooms, and "Wow"-a thumping disco number with a lot of love to give. Scattered alongside these, however, are some slightly more adventurous productions that demonstrate that despite a few years off the stage, Kylie is well up to speed with 21st Century pop: the excellent "Speakerphone" begins with the sound of a strummed harp before diffusing into a shimmering, Scandinvian-tinged electro-pop number reminiscent of Robyn or The Knife, all snapping, sassy beats and vocodered vocal; meanwhile, the ghetto-pop bounce of "Nu-di-ty" proves raunch is still by no means beyond her. A very welcome return. , -Louis Pattison.

On Version, British-born, New York-bred DJ Mark Ronson cocks a sideways glance at some of the bigger UK chart hits of the last few years, plus a couple of old favourites. Formerly producer for an all-star cast that includes Lily Allen, Christina Aguilera, Robbie Williams, and Amy Winehouse, here Ronson has cajoled some of his famous mates into repaying the favour. The result? An album of A-list karaoke that at times, struggles to transcend its novelty, but nonetheless throws up some fun reversions. The uniting factor is Ronson's band - a live-sounding band augmented with trumpets, saxophones, piano and strings which, to its credit, puts enough of a stamp on the material that no single artist steals the show. And that's quite a feat, as there's some big names here. Lily Allen tackles the Kaiser Chiefs' "Oh My God" with her token gum-chewing insouciance. Amy Winehouse proves The Zutons' "Valerie" was always meant to be a strings-swept Motown stomp. And Tiggers and the late Ol' Dirty Bastard tackle Britney's "Toxic" (although few Wu-Tang fans will be surprised just how far ODB wanders off script). But the most significant misstep? Robbie's take on The Charlatans' "The Only One I Know", an unexpectedly drab remake that serves best to remind you how good the original is. -Louis Pattison.

While it's tempting to position Elbow next to the sardonic likes of Badly Drawn Boy-mainly because of their proximity to the city of Manchester and their way with an acoustic guitar-Asleep In The Back, their frighteningly competent debut album, bears not the joker's smile. Instead, it comes straight from Manchester's simmering, ugly dark side-eleven tracks of rain-sodden misery, blown up into the breed of gracefully elegiac fatalism that once formed the essence of the likes of Joy Division. The foggy psychedelic swirl and sewer-deep dub basslines might recall the prog-rock indulgences of Radiohead, but Elbow's grievances are unmistakably aired from the far end of a dole queue; "Any Day Now" veritably fidgets with small town frustration, lead singer Guy Garvey-a man with the voice of an angel and the face of a brickie-hissing "Any day now/ How's about getting out of this place/ Anyways?" over and over, a mantra of desperation. Should we take it as a given that Elbow will break out of this rut of depression and despair? Asleep In The Back is good enough to suggest so. But then, Asleep In The Back also knows that fate can be awfully cruel. -Louis Pattison.

An astonishingly intense and ambitious album, Elbow's Cast of Thousands is relentlessly experimental. Having toiled for 10 years over their spellbinding Mercury-nominated debut Asleep in the Back, the maverick Bury five-piece-who were initially hailed as the new Radiohead-have produced a worthy sequel in a comparatively short two years. While mirroring their debut's melancholy tone, this album's romantic lyricism and uplifting harmonies inject a fresh dynamic. From the first bar, Cast of Thousands is enthralling. "Ribcage", an exquisite rousing treasure, builds on a languorous and fragmented melody into a cohesive climax while Garvey listlessly intones (with a flat mic taped to his larynx) the charming mantra, "When the sunshine/ throwing me a lifeline/ finds its way in to my room/ all I need is you". Meanwhile, the London Community Gospel choir's spiralling harmonies echo Blur's "Tender" in its lo-fi, mellifluous majesty. But the majority of the album is far less grandiose with the haunting "Snooks (Progress Report)" and "I've Got Your Number" bristling with an unnerving intimacy and brooding dialogue. It's an enchanting return that finds Elbow stretching from despair to lovelorn tenderness. -Christopher Barrett.

In a career spanning four decades Steveland Judkins Morris has been many things: child star, funk hero, political chronicler, the saviour of Motown Records and depressingly, the instigator of the painfully schmaltzy R&B ballad. Thankfully, this exhaustive "Best Of. ", timed to commemorate the 40th anniversary of his first appearance as Little Stevie Wonder, focuses mainly on the 1966-1980 glory years and his transition from incendiary soul man to voice of the 70s. The jackhammer beats, shout-along choruses and wailing harmonica peg "Uptight", "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" and "I Was Made To Love Her" as three of the finest anthems of the Motown era, and "My Cherie Amour" as one of its sweetest love songs. But it was when he turned his attention to grinding keyboard grooves and social concerns that Wonder really came into his own. Inspired by ghetto funk and the unrest in 70s America he delivered three staggering albums, Talking Book, Innervisions and Songs in the Key of Life. Those albums highlights, "Living for the City", "Higher Ground", "I Wish", the gospel powered "As" and life-affirming Duke Ellington-tribute "Sir Duke", account for The Definitive Collection's standout tracks, while the rocking synth strut and ferocious horns of "Superstition" provide the defining moment. Next to such musical genius, the 80s slush of Motown's biggest ever selling single, "I Just Called To Say I Love You" seems particularly insipid. [+]