Pangaea
Hex (Hemlock)

Here's a retro rib-tickler for you: Why did the lion get lost? Because the junglist massive. Boom! That one's for the benefit of Pangaea himself, AKA UK bass wunderkind Kevin McAuley, who may not have heard the gag first time around given that he was only seven when jungle broke. But having already ransacked dubstep and garage for his sensational run of 12-inches on Hessle Audio, he's now looking further back for inspiration, lashing the industrial Hoover basslines and cut-up ragga vocals of old-school jungle to a furiously swung beat. It's like watching a heavyweight boxer who can also do gymnastics. Mesmerising.

Dappy
No Regrets (Island)

Regrets, Dappy's had a few – the stupid hats, the death threat texts – but apparently too few to mention, especially now that he appears to be trying to break the US market with this slick Drake-style number. Instead, he's invented a fun new lyrical game, which is to use the name of a famous person to represent different emotions. For instance, he's feeling down: he's Kurt Cobain. He's flying high: he's Richard Branson. You can play along at home if you like. You're feeling smug: you're George Osborne. You've just heard this song's gratuitous key change and gospel coda: you're Jack Dee.

Spector
What You Wanted (Luv Luv Luv)

Now on to his third band after Les Incompétents and Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man unsurprisingly failed to wow the public, you can't help thinking that Fred Macpherson's shot at the big time came and went during that fortnight in 2007 when he was papped a few times looming awkwardly in the vicinity of Peaches Geldof. What You Wanted at least has a discernible tune, but Fred honks it out with such desperation that you fully expect him to end the song by dropping to his knees and imparting a sob story about his dead gran. Sorry, but it's a "no" from me.

Jens Lekman
Waiting For Kirsten (Secretly Canadian)

If you are a twee but relatively handsome singer-songwriter name-checked in an interview by Kirsten Dunst – who has a track record of dating minor indie rockers – you might just allow yourself to believe you're in with a chance. So what do you do? You swig Dutch courage all night on a bench outside her hotel before writing her a rambling note apologising for the resurgence of nationalist politics in Sweden, which you can't even deliver because the night porter turfs you out, and she ends up dating the drummer from Rilo Kiley instead. Oh well, at least you get a jaunty indie-folk singalong out of it.

Love Inks
Rock On (Hell, Yes!)

With David Essex currently charming the divorcees down Walford way, now is probably as good a time as any to cover his supremely weird 1973 glam-funk hit Rock On in a voguish lo-fi dreampop style. Though this effort will of course be trumped the moment Beach House decide to release their cover of Silver Dream Machine.