Songs in the Key of Life was the highest high-point of Stevie Wonder's career. More sprawling than Innervisions and Talking Book, this 2 LP-plus-EP was also less of a consistent stunner than either of those masterworks. That Songs retains an enormous amount of visionary relevance, though, is demonstrated not only in Coolio's borrowing of "Pastime Paradise" as a template for "Gangsta's Paradise", but in the cold-as-ice synthesized string quartet of "Village Ghetto Land". This is Stevie, so naturally that cut's anger is balanced by the ultra-buoyant "I Wish," "Sir Duke", and "Another Star". -Rickey Wright.

Music doesn't come more touching than Parachutes. With their debut single alone, the emotion-fortified "Shiver", Coldplay proved they could shift between elated and crushed in a breath as singer Chris Martin poured out music's oldest chestnut (unconditional yet unrequited love) with the shakiest of voices and a backdrop of epic guitars that rouse and tug at the heart strings. For 10 tracks on Parachutes, he comes out with these, adding new-found meaning to the most tired and overused rock sentiments-love found, love lost, love unrequited, hurting the ones you love and the struggle that is life-over acoustic guitars and emotionally fraught rock. And for once, all the clichés ring true, thanks to Chris Martin genuinely sounding like a man picking over the bones of his life and soul, coming up with equal parts reasons to be cheerful and seriously depressed. Not that Parachutes is a depressing album; there's too much conviction to the guitars and hope in Martin's words for that. Instead it's a beautifully tender balance that comes as close to perfection as anything that's come before it. -Dan Gennoe.

Having achieved the improbable by redeeming traditional soft rock as a chart-friendly genre, are the London quintet challenging their audience a touch too much by titling their second album Join with Us? After all, wasn't recasting the terminally unfashionable likes of Supertramp and other so-called 'guilty pleasures' already a rather big ask? But it transpires that Dan Gillespie Sells and band, probably the first and only successful band to have perfected their chops as après-ski Alpine entertainers, have eschewed the vulnerability of 2006's hugely successful Twelve Stops and Home. Instead Join with Us is an unashamedly loud record, confidently full of stadium fillers in the best British tradition of Queen and Electric Light Orchestra. The thumping disco-rock of opener "I Thought It Was Over" leads the way, but "Without You", wetter than a waterfall, and the hysterical title track with its long build to a fearsomely slick chorus are similarly singleworthy. Less predictable are the downright odd "Don't Make Me Sad"-imagine a dream team of Chas'n'Dave'n'Brian May-and the lush, rueful ballad "Conor" where a string section and ethereal Beatles-esque harmonies add depth. "The Greatest Show on Earth", rather reminiscent of Kate Bush's bleaker moments, fails to live up to its title, pretty much the lyrical intention. But it's only the jaunty hidden track "We Can Dance", presumably aspiring to McCartney at his most jovial but in fact nearer to Chris De Burgh, that misses completely. The Feeling's brash new style may lack some of their previous charm, but Join With Us is undeniably effective. -Steve Jelbert.

Is there anything which screams the 1970s most indelible pop cultural clichés-more than the Swedish pop phenomena Abba and their Definitive Collection? While many a pundit snootily dismissed them during their prime as some sort of prefabricated aberration, their worldwide popularity peaked somewhere just south of Beatlemania. Indeed, Abba's music was as finely tooled and crafted as anything to come from a Volvo or Ikea factory -if occasionally more economically potent. This double-disc, 37-track anthology comes neatly on the heels of Mama Mia, the smash, if unlikely, stage show based on the band's hits, and documents every single released by the band's Polar label in their home country was as well as key tracks released as singles elsewhere internationally. When you hear the term "Europop," this is the canon from whence the term sprang. With a continental sense of vocal neo-classicism, informed by just the right ethnic clichés (and oft wed to the era's insistent 4/4 disco beat) to make songs like "Mama Mia", "Fernando", "Chiquitita" and "Voulez-Vous" work on a global scale, the writing team of Bjorn Ulvaeus/Benny Anderson and their respective partners in music and life, Agnetha Faltskog and Frida Lyngstad, developed the seamless, wall-of-sound productions contained herein. Definitive Collection features a rare single remix of "Ring, Ring" and a 1979 promo-only extended mix of "Voulez-Vous" as bonus tracks, as well as a concise, illustrated history of the band and each track. -Jerry McCulley.

Oasis were already dubbed the New Beatles before the release of What's The Story-within a month of it going multi-platinum, The Times claimed they were more important than the Fabs; and Liam Gallagher was inviting George Harrison to fight him on Primrose Hill. But then, you'd feel cocky enough to pick on a Beatle if you'd just recorded these songs. Obviously the singles-"Wonderwall", "Don't Look Back In Anger", "Some Might Say"-rock; but it's a shocker rediscovering just how ace the album tracks are. The minor-chord that the chorus of "Hey Now!" pivots on could liquefy a brick; "Champagne Supernova" is the sound of a band riding the nose-cone of a rock & roll Concorde, and as for "She's Electric"-ah, well. Every New Beatles must have their "Maxwell's Silver Hammer". -Caitlin Moran.

Seventh Tree unveils an Alison Goldfrapp quite different to the one we saw on her career highpoint to date, 2005's Supernature. Whereas that album was grandiose, glammy, and almost aggressive in its brash, thrusting sexuality, Goldfrapp's fourth album is no less sensual, but rather more subtle in its approach. Recorded with longtime collaborator Will Gregory out in rural Somerset, Seventh Tree feels like an attempt to fuse the pagan folk of cult English horror classic The Wicker Man to a lush backdrop of woozy electronics and a restrained orchestral sweep reminiscent of '70s-era Serge Gainsbourg. In practise, this means much of Seventh Tree goes where earlier Gainsbourg disciples such as Air have gone before: chilled-out, soporific electronica with a light organic edge. Luckily, Goldfrapp remains a compelling enough figure to keep matters on the right side of ethereal: the gorgeous "Clowns" imagines the Cocteau Twins' Liz Fraser guesting on some long-forgotten Nick Drake out-take, rustic folk with an all-but-indecipherable vocal and an undercurrent of desolation, while "A&E" shows Goldfrapp's pop urge has not deserted her, uplifting electronica with a warm, bucolic twist. -Louis Pattison.

It's been a long ten years since Take That disbanded. Their recent reformation and world tour offered overwhelming evidence that, far from being forgotten, the post-Robbie quartet can still command hysterical amounts of goodwill and adoration. Beautiful World illustrates why this is so. Written in conjunction with songwriter/producer John Shanks (Ashlee Simpson, Anastacia, Alanis Morissette), the album is crammed full with the songwriting magic that made their rise to fame so meteoric in the first place. Far from being an exercise in nostalgia, the project moves the band in a slightly new direction. The four come across as more mature, more democratic (all members share songwriting credits on the album, rather than just Barlow), and even more adept at making epic pop that somehow avoids the cheese factor. Lead single "Patience" is a perfect example of how powerful and accessible their songs can be. It'd be a good contender for the album's peak moment if the rest of the tracks weren't so damn good too. With traditional Take That style songs (the immediately likeable "Reach Out", the brimming "Like I Never Loved You At All"), nicely punctuated up by incongruous outings like Jason Orange's folkish "Wooden Boat" and Mark's upbeat, Beatles-esque "Shine", Beautiful World sets a whole new standard for a band previously known more for their singles than their long-players. -Danny McKenna.

Rush-released in secrecy, the story goes that The Raconteurs wanted their album to appear in shops without any fanfare, as if it had always been there. It didn't work that way, but Consolers of the Lonely can certainly lay claim to being an album that is at once familiar and accessible-indeed, it won't be long before it'll seem like an indispensable part of your collection. The two opening songs lay out the sonic blueprint with a loose, rocking feel exemplified by overloaded lead guitar lines, fuzz bass and huge drums, with plenty of dynamic interplay between the vocals. Like Lennon & McCartney at their best, it's often hard to tell who is singing until one or the other takes the lead, while their dual guitar playing approach is similarly twinned, all ably supported by a rhythm section that's both nimble and powerful. Despite the strong offerings throughout, the best is saved until last with "Carolina Drama", a Jack White-led murder story-song that threatens to collapse under its own weight until the singalong ending breaks the tension. In short then, a huge improvement over the slightly underwhelming debut, and as good as anything else produced by the band's individual components. -Thom Allot.

Young James Morrison has "success story" written all over him. Drawing influence from soul greats like Cat Stevens, Otis Redding, and Van Morrison, debut album Undiscovered reveals this Rugby-born vocalist has the sort of world-weary voice and songwriting chops to take the Later…With Jools Holland path to mainstream success that's formerly made stars of Damien Rice, James Blunt, and former tour-mate Corinne Bailey Rae. In keeping with his soul influences, much of Undiscovered has a full, warm multi-instrumental sound neatly rendered by Martin Terefe, producer for the likes of KT Tunstall and Ron Sexsmith. "Under The Influence", a passionate upfront love song, is borne along on florid piano and Beatles-esque string arrangements, while the tear-stained "Wonderful World" matches its emotional message ("I know that it's a wonderful world/ But I can't feel it right now") with optimistic brass and cascading percussion. Album stand-outs come with "You Give Me Something" and the closing "Better Man", a solo acoustic number that really showcases the range of Morrison's voice. Purists may still baulk at the prospect of a white lad from the North of England singing soul, but the sure success of Undiscovered ought to prove that a strong voice will always be the bottom line. -Louis Pattison.

Calling it a day in early 1999 was probably the best thing the Verve ever did, as it meant that they quit when they were at the pinnacle of their success, sparing their faithful followers an unsightly degeneration. Urban Hymns is a fitting final testament to Wigan's favourite sons, as Richard Ashcroft and Nick McCabe temporarily buried the hatchet and reformed one of Britain's greatest songwriting partnerships since Lennon and McCartney. From the unmistakable introductory chords of "Bittersweet Symphony" to the sheer pop perfection of "Lucky Man" via stoner rock-outs like "Weeping Willow" and the call to arms that is "Come On", every track justifies its presence by being part of a cohesive whole. Their previous album A Northern Soul was already marked down in the annals of rock history as a classic; Urban Hymns surpasses it and then some. -Helen Marquis.

The Killers might hail from one of the USA's most quintessentially American cities (Las Vegas), but their debut album Hot Fuss displays an Anglophilic streak that is an ocean wide. Steeped in the back-catalogue of the Smiths and Pulp, with broad 80s synth sweeps cloaking each tale of fraught metrosexual romance, this band clearly rate the swoon over the swagger. Still, this is almost entirely an upbeat record, one made for the packed club than the smoky VIP room; in particular "On Top", "Somebody Told Me" and "Mr Brightside" are tremendous examples of breathless indie-pop that gallop along like a lovestuck heartbeat with frontman Brandon Flowers gasping for breath on the claustrophobic disco floor. This is, inarguably, what the Killers do best. Even when they deviate from form they've got a few neat ideas-see the gospel choir that echoes back Flowers' repeated exclamation "I've got soul/ But I'm not a soldier" on "All These Things I've Done", or the self-consciously epic "Indie Rock'n'Roll", delivered by the Killers with all the fireworks and gusto of a curtain-closing Broadway showtune. -Louis Pattison.

Coldplay were faced with a difficult choice as they set to work on X&Y. They could either follow Radiohead’s lead and use their enormous success and financial security as a springboard to a brave experimental future-or they could play it safe, repeat the tricks used on the 16 million-selling A Rush Of Blood To The Head, and consolidate their position as one of the biggest bands in the world. In truth, despite the Tetris-inspired artwork and presence of teaser track "Talk"-which steals its melody line from electro-futurists Kraftwerk’s gorgeous "Computer Love"-X&Y is more the latter than the former. Fans will be delighted by "What If?", a piano elegy that takes flight on strings, and slowly builds towards a Beatles' "A Day In The Life"-style climax, while the likes of "Fix You" and hidden track "'Til Kingdom Come"-originally written for country hero Johnny Cash-proves Martin’s skill for simple, affecting songwriting remains intact. One development, however, comes through the judicious inclusion of some rather pleasant synthesiser work-see "White Shadows", where Martin gently beseeches "Come on love, stay with me" over a gentle Eno-esque keyboard wash. Fair enough: the experimental albums can come later. -Louis Pattison More Coldplay A Rush of Blood to the Head (CD) Parachutes (CD) Coldplay: Live 2003 (Limited Edition DVD with Live CD) Coldplay: Look at the Stars (Paperback) Find more from Coldplay.

If, like most of the pop-listening public, you heard Timbaland's chart-topping remix of OneRepublic's single "Apologize" before you heard the original, you may be mildly confused about what kind of music the band makes. Timabaland's signature electronic swizzles and "eh-eh-eh"s leave the impression that OneRepublic is a style-heavy outfit a la Maroon 5, but frontman Ryan Tedder's plaintive words and woebegone themes don't fall far from forerunners Keane, Coldplay, and the Fray. Dreaming out Loud chisels away at the dichotomy. "Apologize", stripped of its swizzles, is a gorgeous modern rock song made all the more gorgeous by the urgency in Tedder's striking, unscuffed voice, and a lot of the songs on this record stack up similarly. Which is to say that, although tracks like "Tyrant" and opener "Say (All I Need)" wrap themselves around some seriously stylish production, substance is really this band's thing. A piano played by turns ferociously and tenderly drives the point home, and so do some choice lyrics; if you are inclined to choke up at feelings laid bare, check out "Goodbye, Apathy" and "Come Home" at your own risk. -Tammy La Gorce.

Snow Patrol are frequently compared to Coldplay in the press, which seems strange as they write far better songs and do not appear to be quite so self-hating, nor as rich. Their delightfully dour little pop songs do touch on the melancholic side of things, but the lyrics are wonderfully slice-of-life descriptions. Singer/lyricist Gary Lightbody gives a shout-out to Sufjan Stevens when on the punchy "Open Your Eyes" he sings, "The anger swells in my guts. " Perhaps a better comparison would be American indie-rock act Sebadoh? Regardless, this band continues to surprise. If you went to see this mixed Scottish/Irish group on tour after hearing their wistful, breakout third album Final Straw, you might have been a bit confused by the rock juggernaut confronting you. Eyes Open is their most straightforwardly rock record yet, and thanks in large part to producer Garret Lee, it's their best. If there was ever perfect music to get lost to while driving around confused about a relationship, this is it. -Mike McGonigal.

One of Stevie Wonder's best albums, and the one where his more fanciful, free-form moments gel perfectly with his knack for irresistible pop singles. 1973's Innervisions swings between delicate and airy ballads, Latin-influenced rhythms (the hit "Don't Worry 'Bout a Thing"), and his own synth-heavy versions of gut-bucket soul (the determined spiritual questing of "Higher Ground"). The striking juxtaposition between "Vision", a barely breathed hope that a world of peace might be upon us, and the great "Living for the City", a funky, pulsing tale of racism, is powerful, haunting, and still all too relevant. -David Cantwell.