Lemon Jelly
'64-'95 (XL)

There are many virtues to recommend Lemon Jelly. They once held a gig in the afternoon so that children could come. The phrase 'advert music' lost its tut of disapproval after their aerated compositions began soundtracking the telly, around the time of their 2002 hit album, Lost Horizons. On album number three, DJ-cum-visual artist Fred Deakin and musical points man Nick Franglen remain dance music's most easily listenable duo - one not as full-on as that other design-affiliated outfit, Underworld, one whose retro postures are not as self-conscious as Air. But, really, '64 - '95 is a tad boring. There are moments of pure dandelion-fluff pleasure, like '95' (aka 'Make Things Right') which features a hook sung by Terri Walker. The rest is relentlessly sweet natured and crafted with love; the samples are resolutely original. But '64 -'95 just washes over you like a light breeze, not really registering.

Feeder
Pushing the Senses (Echo) Athlete
Tourist (Parlophone)

The success of Coldplay has done funny things to some of their peers. Snow Patrol, for one, discarded their previous identity as indie underachievers, got epic, and reaped the rewards. Now Feeder, Britain's mild-mannered hard rockers, and Athlete, a pleasantly slipshod outfit recently nominated for the Mercury Prize, have evidently decided that a few pianos and some uplifting melancholy could be just what their longevity and balance sheets require. In Feeder's case, you could see it coming. Their fourth album, Comfort in Sound, was already speeding away from the trio's instinctive cheery riff into mellower and more emotionally mature territory, caused by the suicide of the band's original drummer in 2002. Pushing the Senses ups the ante further. Bar a couple of throwbacks to their chuntering guitar days, their fifth album aims squarely for the big hankie box, unfurling pensive soft-rock anthems-in-waiting like 'Feeling a Moment'. It should work; certainly, these songs will play well to their friends, Travis's fans. But listen closely and singer Grant Nicholas deals exclusively in trite blandishments and formulaic builds.

Athlete, too, have jettisoned much of their individuality and perk in an attempt to appeal to their labelmates Coldplay's constituency. There are a few vestigial whirrs and little flute flurries left, even on 'Wires', the piano-led single. 'Modern Mafia', meanwhile, manages to offer both a tune and some personality. But songs like 'Yesterday Threw Everything at Me' crib too closely from Snow Patrol's copybook, underlining the calculation that's trying to pass itself off as ambition on both these albums.

Low
The Great Destroyer (Rough Trade)

For a decade, Minnesotan trio Low have dealt in understated masterpieces, all the more seductive for being delivered at stealth and in whispers. They were called Low; low was how they played. On their eighth album, however, Low have lain waste to this subterfuge and cranked up the pace, the guitars and the volume. There's even a song called 'When I Go Deaf'. At first, it feels like swearing in church. The opening three tracks are so loud and direct they sound almost spiteful, where Low once seemed solemn and impartial messengers, reporting faraway blights. By all accounts, Alan Sparhawk, his wife Mimi Parker and Zak Sally have fed their anger at the state of their nation into their music, although this most elliptical of bands don't ever stoop to rhetoric. In all, it's an electrifying transformation, one aided by Mercury Rev producer Dave Fridmann, who also helps with different textures and dynamics. What hasn't changed, though, is the high quality of Low's songcraft, the way the Sparhawks's vocals intertwine, especially in the album's softer places ('When I Go Deaf' is especially poignant and personal).

The Others
The Others (Mercury)

With the brouhaha created by the Libertines, Babyshambles and, latterly, the Others, it's tempting to conclude that London is in the throes of a second punk rock explosion. Take the bands' fighting talk at face value and there would seem to be guerrilla gigs in every tube carriage and cadres of sharply dressed refuseniks undermining the whole sorry business of rock'n'roll from cheap flat-shares east of the Cambridge Heath Road. The reality is rather less encouraging. There is no quibbling with the self-righteous disgust spilling from Others singer Dominic Masters, best summed up in their singles, 'This Is for the Poor' and 'Lackey'. But the band are workmanlike even by punk's no-frills standards, and Masters is a prosaic lyricist at best, two turn-offs that not even Masters's charisma and the frisson of unpredictability that surrounds the band can overcome.

Six Organs of Admittance
School of the Flower (Drag City)

You can always tell a scene by the fact that its adherents refuse to acknowledge they are in it. Ben 'Six Organs' Chasny sneers whenever he is lumped in with the underground folk movement currently causing ripples in the US. This is because he is one of the best things about it. School of the Flower is his first widely available album, one that cements his reputation as a guitarist who fuses the free folk style best summarised by John Fahey with disorienting psychedelics and experimental sound montage. Jazz drummer Chris Corsano joins him here, adding a dazzling array of percussive touches. This may all sound rather forbidding, but the overall effect of the duels between Chasny's insistent acoustic guitar and subtle sonic interference is utterly enthralling. 'Home' here recalls Eighties indie darlings Galaxie 500. It's the title track that anchors the album. In 13 minutes, an acoustic guitar theme winds tighter and tighter, as Corsano's drumming and a parade of other sounds ebb and flow in and out. Masterful stuff.

· To order the Others for £11.99 or any other of the above CDs for £13.99 each, all with free UK p&p, call the Observer Music Service on 0870 836 0713