By the release of 1998's Mezzanine, critics were suddenly of the understanding that Massive Attack were one of the most important bands in the world. Bristol's original trip-hop pioneers had, on previous albums Blue Lines and Protection, fused turntable wizardry to the warmest of soul. With Mezzanine, however, the party had ended; revisiting the murky soundscapes so favoured by former partner and fellow Bristolian Tricky, the comeback single "Rising Son" muttering edgily about "cheap beer filled with crocodile tears", over the deepest bass. Tensions were heightened by the news that the making of Mezzanine was riven by inter-band rifts. The friction, though, seems to have create some gems; "Inertia Creeps" is drenched in menace, and "Teardrop" features the ethereal vocals of Liz Fraser of the Cocteau Twins-both of these a benchmark not just for the band, but for the trip-hop genre. Bleak, but powerfully beautiful. -Louis Pattison.

Session One is the first release on The Herbaliser's own Department H imprint, a side release to their normal work on Ninja Tune that documents the extended Herbaliser lineup that spent much of 1999 on the road. As such, the album is a lively electro-acoustic funk project that benefits from the 120 or so gigs the band played during eight months in the UK, Europe, US and Canada. Ollie Teeba and Jake Wherry, along with their nine-piece band, have blended horns, Rhodes keyboards, wah wah guitars, live percussion and decks and effects together with programmed drumbeats, all with a very live and spontaneous feel. Tracks like "The Missing Suitcase", "Who's The Realest" and "Shockazulu" are heavily influenced by labels like Music De Wolfe, K. P. M and the piercing incidental funk of 1970's Lalo Schifrin-style soundtracks. Session One succeeds in its exploration of 70s funk-ology by joining the dots between phat instrumental hip-hopbeats, jazz fusion and potent funk rhythms. The guiding spirits of Lonnie Liston Smith, Fred Wesley and The JB's and the classic electronic jazz vibes of Herbie Hancock are recontexualised here through The Herbaliser's hip-hop aesthetic. -Terna Heuston-Jibo.

True to previous form, Kieran Hebden, Ademn Ilhan and Sam Jeffers' fourth album, Happiness, avoids all the pitfalls of defying convention. Fridge should be a very acquired taste. Undeniably abstract, in lesser hands their loose collages of off kilter percussion, ancient acoustic instruments and clinical sythns and samples, would be meandering leftfield nonsense, self-indulgent experimentation and totally inaccessible. But Happiness delivers nine tracks that are more touching than mere music. With Oriental hand chimes, delicate xylophone melodies, hypnotic bass loops and swathes of liquid synths, the incredibly sensual likes of "Cut-Up Piano And Xylophone" and "Drum Machines And Glockenspiels" stir the emotions to provoke a sense of comfort, security and enormous well-being. Literally, this is the sound of Happiness. Even the guitar feedback on "Tone Guitar and DrumNoise" sounds graceful. And while an out-of-time tambourine, tuneless trombone and badly played accordion ("Melodica and Trombone") make for a curious listen, there's nothing arty or pretentious about it-the accordion playing isn't making an artistic statement, it's just bad. Leftfield it may be, but Happiness is about beautiful and emotive sounds, not being clever. -Dan Gennoe.

Goldie was deservedly the first crossover star to emerge from the jungle/drum & bass underground scene, although credit for this astonishing debut album must also go to his collaborator and engineer, Rob Playford. This music is almost three-dimensional-the soundtrack to some undreamt of, heavenly computer game-and the cavernous dub breaks, rapid-fire rhythms and morphing twists and turns of "Jah The Seventh Seal" and "This Is A Bad" is intoxicating. Its centrepiece, however, is the epic, three-part title track featuring Diane Charlemagne's vocals; its all-enveloping rhythms and shadowy synths take the listener on a palpable musical descent into the darkest horrors of inner city life. Drum & bass was quickly subsumed to become the lingua franca of TV adverts before dropping from fashion, yet Timeless stands the test, genuinely living up to its name. -David Stubbs.