Andrew Bird is who Sting and David Byrne think they are - a literate, polymath musician whose lyrics are poetic and intelligent, and whose music combines the touch of a classical musician with the soul of a blues man, but who does it with effortless style and wit. Armchair Apocrypha is actually his tenth album, following the quite incredible Mysterious Production of Eggs, but this is his first for edgy blues label Fat Possum (where The Black Keys got their start). On it, his normal repertoire is expanded ever so slightly - slightly more rock and slightly more electronica has eased into the genre mix - but this is perhaps the best thing he has ever done. The lyrics are as out there as ever - the more English literature you've read, the better set up you'll be - and the aching, soulful voice makes each song a perfect little laid -back vignette, a catchy piece of pop perfection, deliciously told. Bird is wonderful little secret of a musician for a thinking listener, and this is his best album - enough said.

ACE rating 9/10

There are singer-songwriters who make a pleasant enough noise, and there is Jacob Golden, whose 2002 album Hallelujah World is still a quite hauntingly great listen - all exquisite melodies, perfect voice and gentle warmth. It is criminally ignored. Revenge Songs sees him back on disc after a year's recording, and still mining a great seam of soaring melody, like a gentler, more earthbound Ben Christophers, or even an on-form Jeff Buckley. There are songs to fall in love with, such as Revenge Song, and songs about love that will make you ache, such as Love You. Here, Golden's lyrics have improved even over Hallelujah World's stories - the lyrics ring more true, and more insightfully, than The Streets (Hold Your Hair Back, On A Saturday). Golden's philosophy is succinctly bound up in the words of Mark Hollis: "Before you play two notes learn how to play one note - and don't play one note unless you've got a reason to play it." Revenge Songs is all the reason imaginable.

ACE rating 9/10

The Walkmen are easily the best band of their kind (and their kind includes The Strokes and The Rakes), and this album is a song-for-song cover of the 1974 Harry Nilsson album of the same name, which just happened to be produced by John Lennon. Covering that album (and staying true to its ramshackle sound and spirit), started off as a joke but eventually became a releasable album, only 5 months after their slightly-disappointing last record, A Hundred Miles Off. With songs that career all over the place, from Dylan's Subterranean Homesick Blues to Many Rivers To Cross, to Save The Last Dance, this is a pretty odd disc, but it has tanks full of charm - it has great intensity, sounds like great fun, and doesn't set out to impress anyone. In easing off the cred pedal, it actually is a more endearing listen than Hundred Miles, and gets closer to their Bows + Arrows feel (which is a good place to be). Hard to say whether anyone who's not a fan of the band already should venture in, but there are few discs around with more organic great music, and certainly no bands who do what they do quite so well.

ACE rating 8/10