Sound of Water
Saint Etienne

Not exactly an album that grabs you on first listen, at first the tunes seem so light and fluffy they float away like dandelion spores, but after a few listens it's bubbling electronics and dreamy tone slowly worm their way into your brain like a dripping tap. If you've ever wondered what The Carpenters would have sounded like if they'd been produced by Brian Wilson and re-mixed by Kraftwerk (haven't we all?), wonder no more. Despite such international influences St. Et manage to sound as English as a rainy day in July. Sarah Cracknell still reminds me of a schoolgirl singing into a hairbrush in her bedroom and "How We Used To Live" appears to be a nine-minute epic about the joys of living in Windsor.

Aquí Vivía Yo
Le Mans

Summer is here and my thoughts go back to Europe and lazy afternoons in the shade watching the world go by with a glass of cold Sangria. Le Mans, who hail from sunny Spain, have produced the perfect soundtrack for such laid-back moments. A collection of quietly elegant and exquisite songs with a languid bossa beat that shimmers like the midday heat rising from the streets of Seville. The mellow female vocals sound like a sleepy Astrud Gilberto relaxing after a long day on the beach, and the hazy air of lo-fi minimalism with gentle touches of Spanish guitar, piano and drums is as blissful as having suntan lotion slowly rubbed in your back.

The Noise Made By People
Broadcast

As their name suggests, Broadcast's album sounds like it's being transmitted from a distant world on crackly old radio valves. An atmospheric and vaguely sinister world inhabited by bleeping keyboards, whirring synths and an air of poppy psychedelia that sounds like the soundtrack to some arty 1960s science fiction film starring Catherine Deneuve and directed by Jean-Luc Godard (in black and white of course). Lead singer Trish Keenan sings with an air of beautifully studied nonchalance that suggests she should be sitting outside a cafe in Paris, reading Sartre and chain-smoking Gitanes. Listen to this next time you find yourself pondering the empty black hole of existence.

Equally Cursed and Blessed
Catatonia

It has long been common knowledge that the Welsh were about as good at pop music as the French: namely, not very good at all. Now Catatonia come along to prove that there is more to Wales than Tom Jones and coal mines. The supernova-like star quality of lead singer Cerys Matthews completely dominates the album as she coos, purrs, growls and pouts with a breathy and raspy little-girl voice that sounds both innocent and ravaged at the same time. Sometimes she comes across like a spoilt brat screaming "listen to me!" and you wish she'd take a valium and calm down a bit, but the catchy guitar pop noise the boyos make behind her ensures that her Welsh charms worm their way into your brain. Resistance is futile.

Lipslide
Sarah Cracknell

If the world needs bouncy pop records by cute blonde girls - and I think it does - then it would be better off putting it's pocket money in the capable hands of Ms. Sarah Cracknell. She knows that you need more than a flat stomach and good teeth to make perfect pop. On 'Lipslide' she demonstrates her credentials with a collection of bright tunes that stick to you like a fresh piece of Juicy Fruit. She perfectly captures that feeling of being young, foolish and happy and in love with the cute boy sitting at the next desk in English class, and like all good pop records it sounds as glorious and hopeful as a bright summer's day at the seaside, even when things go bad and you get dumped by your boyfriend (that bastard in English class probably).

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