Give Me a Wall by ¡Forward, Russia!

This isn't the Russia of Roman Abramovich and intemet hookers. This is the Russia of Sputniks, space dogs and Cold War paranoia. And freezing winters. It takes bravery to create something that doesn't go out of its way to flatter and preen the listener. ‘Give Me A Wall’ doesn't want to be your best mate. it wants to check you out, test what you're made of. You find that in Tom's histrionic yelping; in the drums that want to detach themselves from the melody and roll right out of your speakers into your bedroom and in songs that have numbers for names. And not necessarily in the right order. Single ‘twelve’ preceeds ‘Fifteen (Part 1)’, which is followed by new single ‘Nine’. Like a peculiarly English take on emo. ¡Forward, Russia! charter a pedalo into the waters of despair. when Tom and Katie share vocals on ‘Sixteen’ (the eighth track,  you're getting it now) they take us from fragile self doubt to an internship in the boot camp of death metal. Barked numbers batter the listener into submission. lt's epic stuff. widescreen entertainment for the back of your eyelids. ¡Forward, Russia! dare to delve deeper than their art rock contemporaries. Pretentious? Probably. But if it weren't for a bit of a pretension we'd have no heroes.

Drips by The Drips

It might be tempting to call The Drips a supergroup, but given that they are comprised of members from the less than famous Bronx and the all but forgotten Distillers, their fanbase probably wouldn't fill the cleaning cupboard at the Camden Barfly. That's not to say this newly forged quintet are not good enough to earn their own followers because this debut release hits top gear within the first two seconds of opening track ‘Broken’ and, for the next 26 minutes it's wall to waIl hardcore in the fine tradition of such Californian punk forefathers as Black Flag and Dead Kennedys. Variation? Depth? Subtlety?Pah. when you're as full blooded as The Drips, that stuff is for pussies.

Lost & Found by Daniel Johnston

Let's for a second forget all the stuff about Johnston sabotaging his dad's aircraft mid flight, and raging against the dark lord Beelzebub with a quavery voice and a beat up guitar. Instead, let's focus on what good form the 45 year old, Cobain adored, manic depressive, songwriting hero comes across on his new outing. See, there's a moment midway through ‘Lost And Found"s opener ‘Rock This Town’ where Johnston spins his entire troubled past on his head with a single, raspy cry of, “Going to rock this town tonight! ". He sounds well. He sounds alive. Whatever his current mental state, his love affair with rock’n'roll sounds in perfect health. On grounds of humanitarian concern and pop fandom, long may that continue.

Powder Burns by Twilight Singers

A post Hurricane Katrina album recorded in curfew curtailed New Orleans could misfire. It could be a soppy, chest beating piece of hokum.
But then Greg Dulli, frontman of Ohio's soul shouters Afghan Whigs. has never written hokum. His trade is messed up relationships and late night whispering. After three Twilight albums that never lived up to his previous might, he's now hit paydirt. ‘I wish I was’ is a love song to the messed up New Orleans. It's the place where he's searching among the abandoned “mangey dogs"for a curfew party (‘Forty Dollars’). And of course, sex, ‘Candy Cane Crawl’ recalls the rumbling might of the Whigs. After weathering many storms, Greg Dulli has emerged battered, but on top.

Love & Other Planets by Adem

Full of deep thoughts spliced to simple melodies, ‘Love And Other Planets’, the second solo record from Fridge man Adem, is a concept album. Scary? Not really. Here, space is analysed on micro and macro levels, what's up in the heavens and what's inside us, what we are doing to our planet and ourselves. In that respect and even musically, Adem mirrors the ambitious approach of Sufjan Stevens, which is some compliment. ‘Spirals’ just Adem and guitar, equates the mysteries and vastness of the cosmos to the size and complexity of his love for his sweetheart. That's heavy yet beautiful shit right there. Adem may not change the world, but he's definitely been thinking about it.

Bells of 1 2 by Sol Seppy

Sol Seppy is the pseudonym of Sophie Michalitsianos, an English girl of Greek parentage who grew up in Australia, and whose prodigious musical talents reflect her diverse background. A classically trained pianist and cellist, she has previously played on Sparklehorse’s classic ‘Good Morning Spider’ and ‘It's A Wonderful Life’ albums (and will be appearing on their new one, due later this year). For this, her first solo outing and it is solo in the truest sense: Sophie writes, performs and produces everything, she has come up with 12 tracks that are at times reminiscent of Mazzy Star. the Cocteau Twins and Slowdive, but with plenty of her own personality thrown in. The title of the best song here, the languorous ‘Slo Fuzz’, says it all. Spooky, soporific and beautiful.

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.

Kerfuffle by Ladyfuzz

Aside from having a moniker far more suited to a device equipped to remove pubes, let's get it out of the way from the off that the problem with London kitsch pop trio Ladyfuzz is that they're rubbish and they have no songs. That said, there's much endearing about them. Singer Liz's Slits indebted yelps lift songs like ‘Hold Up’ and ‘Oh Marie!’ out of the gutter and into the upper realms of mediocrity. Likewise, the sleeve is pink, while guitarist Matt used to be in a band called ‘Sexy Cancer’ (and if there's been a better band name than that, then I'm a 12 foot inflatable mole. We assure you we're not, however unflattering that Letters Page snap might look). So Ladyfuzz’s debut is rubbish. Don't despair! You will enjoy listening to Liz's voice, looking at the sleeve. and inventing logos for ‘Sexy Cancer’. And that's worth the price, right?

Right in the Back of Your Mind by Stairs

In the early '90s. while the rest of Britain was busy buying novelty rave records, Edgar 'Summertyme' Jones and the rest of The Stairs were holed up in the Wirral wearing Chelsea boots, listening to The Chocolate watchband and kidding themselves it was 1966 again. The result was one great single (‘Weed Bus',aversion of which is here),one half great album and some truly disastrous trousers. Still, even though they were 25 years behind the times, they invented all the scallydelic Coral type bands, while Noel Gallagher took note of their surly dermeanour and knack with a familiar sounding chorus. This grab bag of demos and lost songs is a perfect reminder of their madheaded ' retro greatness.

Now Is the Time by Polysics

when it comes to letting others share in their wealth of credibility, Kaiser Chiefs are swiftly becoming the Mother Teresas of indie; first The Cribs benefited handsomely from their patronage, and now a similar fate hopefully awaits Tokyo's magnificently wacky Polysics. Their Devo inspired synth punk has already seen them established as big names in Japan for some time, and it really shouldn't have taken a slightly tubby bloke from Yorkshire to spot why, when tracks like ‘Wild One’ and ‘Metal Coconuts' sound like four deranged manga characters ram raiding a video games arcade, while on a bender of particularly strong food additives. So exciting that it should come with a precautionary bottle of Prozac.

Etiquette by Casiotone for the Painfully Alone

Casiotone For The Painfully Alone mainman Owen Ashworth possibly beats even Stuart Murdoch to the title of the indie-est man in the world. To date, the Portland, Oregon native has made three albums of downbeat lo-fi songs in his bedroom, using just a battered old Casiotone keyboard and vocals recorded on his answering machine. But he's obviously been going out more lately because, in comparison, ‘Etiquette’ is practically a wall of sound, featuring several guest vocalists, layers of synths and, on the beautiful ‘Nashville Parthenon’, a weeping pedal steel guitar. Some things never change, however, and for Ashworth every day is still like Sunday, as he dissects his 20 something malaise with a dry and eloquent wit like a K-Mart Morrissey.

Zero: A Martin Hannett Story 1977-1991 by Martin Hannett

Despite the fact that he died 15 years ago, Martin Hannett is responsible for a large proportion of your record collection. This is not to say that you only own records that were released on Factory or some early singles by U2, but that the mad Mancunian's unique production tecniques are still very influential today. Editors? They wouldn't have that cold, metallic echo without Joy Division's ‘Transmission’. The poetic, punk groove of Arctic Monkeys? Well, John Cooper Clarke's ‘I Don't Want To Be Nice’ always sounded good on the dancefloor. The Killers’ precision tooled anthems? They wouldn't have filled stadiums without ‘Pretty In Pink‘ by The Psychedelic Furs. Throw in some Happy Mondays and New Order too and this really is an indispensable collection.

Youth by Matisyahu

So, on the other side of the Atlantic, the bissest Sellins reggae artist at present is a 24 year old. 6ft 4in tall Hasidic Jew (you can tell this by his long beard and traditional garb). It's fair to say Matisyahu really doesn't look like your average chart topper and, unsurprisingly, he doesn't sound like one either. Blending the melodic majesty of Bob Marley, the slick production values of contemporary American R&B and hip-hop and rugged, almost Jamaican accented rhymes, Matisyahu's studio debut succeeds in being accessible, yet at the same time sounds unlike anything else on earth. The likes of ‘Fire Of Heaven/Altar Of Earth‘ may occasionally veer into over polished territory but, even forgetting the unique nature of its creator, ‘Youth’ is still a striking, articulate debut album.

A Challenge to the Cowards of Christendom by Knights of the New Crusade

Some of you heathens might be put off by the idea of a band who sport matching Knights Templar style chain mail armour and play Christian fundamentalist garage with lyrics attacking the rock establishment, recreational drug use, divorce, the military industrial complex and, oddly, bingo. Fortunately, though, the Knights’ sense of humour is as highly evolved as their needle in the red retro punk is rocking after all, their debut album was called ‘My God Is Alive. Sorry About Yours’. Don't just admire them for dressing like extras from The Da VinciCode, though they deserve a place in your prayers for playing such uruodly music while simultaneously finding a rhyme for ‘Leviticus’.

Yoyoyoyoyo by Spank Rock

There's less sonic and lyrical innovation around now than at any point in hip-hop's near 30 year history, with even old school stars like LL Cool J reduced to bouncing around with J.Lo. Spank Rock, a duo from Baltimore, are too weird and marginal to be the answer to this state of affairs, but at least they're providing an alternative. They specialise in a twisted take on the Baltimore booty bass sound music to strip to, but while on drugs. Weird sound effects come from all angles. arrangements incorporate everything from batacuda drums to acoustic guitars and there are great pop moments too, like the irresistible chorus of current single ‘Sweet Talk’. The lyrics don't stray too far from such hip-hop staples as ass, titties and cocaine. but compared to 50 Cent it's revolutionary.