Faust IV by Faust

Some bands form because they want to be famous and make money. Some bands form because they want to see endless lengths of motorway from the back of a rusty Leyland Sherpa. Some bands form because they want to get laid in the back of a rusty Leyland Sherpa. Faust weren’t like those bands, probably because they were an experimental prog-rock act from 1970s Germany. Faust formed because they wanted to make music that sounded like absolutely nothing else that had ever gone before, then play it on pneumatic drills. Naked.

While their contemporaries Kraftwerk made sleek, repetitious records, Faust meandered, threw away good ideas and took the piss. But if it’s uniformity and consistency you're after, stick with Keane.

The Greatest Hits: Why Try Harder by Fatboy Slim

Norman Cook underestimate him musically at your peril. That's what the police at Brighton beach did in 2002  then 250,000 people turned up to his party and two ended up dead. Certainly, there's as much hyper dance nonsense here that still gets the adrenaline pumping (‘The Rockafeller Skank’, ‘Sunset (Bird Of Prey)') as there is of the grossly overfamiliar ('Praise You’, Fatboy’s remix of 'Brimful Of Asha'). He’s one of the greatest nostalgia acts for sure, but for most of us. Norm’s hits soundtracked as many blissfully debauched mash-ups as they did adverts for hatchbacks. And that picture of the obese kid on the artwork is still pretty funny.

Fast Man Raider Man by Frank Black

They say it's a sad day when a man stops being inspired by flying saucers and Mexican prostitutes, and so it is with Frank Black. While currently touring the world's stadiums and doing his best not to talk to Kim Deal as part of a rejuvenated Pixies, when solo. Black has always seemed keenest on satisfying himself. Here, satisfaction is a country tinged 27 track solo album recorded with Memphis session players. A rowdy bar-room cover of 'Dirty Old Town' - auld traditional slurred best by The Pogues’ Shane MacGowan  comes straight from the gut. But where Black's muse was once shrieked and otherworldly, it's now distinctly earth-bound.

Twelve Stops And Home by The Feeling

“These cats can play!" trumpets the press release, and by Jovi, it’s true! Every second of ‘Twelve Stops And Home' pulsates with the soft rock heartbeat of a distant, more comforting era, where Smashey’n’Nicey rule the airwaves and the nearest thing to an asylum seeker was Foreigner. The trouble with such shameless nostalgia is that whereas the likes of Scissor Sisters instill such daftness with personality, these Sussex session men featuring exmembers of Sophie Ellis Bextor’s band -are so busy trying to be Supertramp they've forgotten to add anything of themselves other than on closer ‘Blue Piccadilly’, a song about a tube line. An album for those who find Orson too noisy.

Singles by Feeder

So, a career spanning best of from a hugely successful, multi-platinum, 10 year old band. What took you so long Mr Record Company? As you'd expect, this has all the hits. and it has three
new tracks too. Recent single ‘Lost & Found’, despite the electro aspirations of the first few seconds, is another downpour of thunderous guitars and power drums, with Grant Nicholas’ voice still pitched somewhere between Dave Grohl and A's Jason Perry. This isn't for die hard fans (they'll have it all)  it's for those curious observers and people who think that Feeder are worth ‘investigating’. Put your money away fools, they've built a whole career around just two songs, the rocky and the ballad. You could always buy the deluxe edition with 25 videos on, but if you do, you can't be in our gang.

Write Your Own History by Field Music

A recent survey has revealed why call centres abound in the northeast: apparently people find the accent comforting. The tiniest burst of Field Music's second release a collection of B-sides and unreleased tracks is certainly testament to this. And from the hurnmed harmony of opener ‘You're Not Supposed To’ to the trippy drift of ‘Can You See Anything’, the ex Futureheads radiate immaculate pop, reminiscent of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah or the more eccentric regions of your dad's record box. It's short and somewhat sugary, for sure, but then pop is supposed to be sweet. Anyway, it'd be churlish to resist such tempting fare.