7. Abattoir Blues/Lyre Of Orpheus - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds (2004)

A BIBLICALLY proportioned double album, with St Nick leading his Bad Seed apostles through everything from chaotic stomping hellfire to heavenly fields of sweetness. It's another Cave masterpiece, but even more than that it's possibly his finest work ever. Time will be the judge of that, but for now it can at least be viewed as an astonishing distillation of his career into two discs of dark humour and disarming honesty, unconditional love and fiery hate, simple sweetness and unsettling sourness. The opening barrage Get Ready For Love sounds like Cave riding in front of the Four Horseman Of The Apocalypse with a rose in his teeth and a wicked glint in his eye, yet on Breathless he's damned-near frolicking through meadows with Cupid and a daisy chain on his head. It's these highs and lows that make this such a dizzying and fulfilling ride - Cave swerves from atheistic preacher (Get Ready For Love) to saviour (Cannibal Hymn), from insidious devil (Hiding All Away) to sweet lover (Babe, You Turn Me On), from troubled writer (There She Goes, My Beautiful World) to starry-eyed dreamer (Nature Boy), from cheeky mythologist (The Lyre Of Orpheus) to poetic romantic (Spell). It's an intoxicating mix, with the full force of fury and suitably restrained beauty provided by his best line-up of Bad Seeds to date.

8. Black Holes And Revelations - Muse (2006)

AMBITIOUS and eclectic, Muse delivered on their promise of greatness here. Previous albums Origin Of Symmetry and the apocalyptic Absolution were awesome, but Matt Bellamy and co took it up a notch on this futuristic space odyssey that journeyed to the red plains of Mars and back. Their prog-rock aspirations bore fruit on Knights Of Cydonia - their own private Bohemian Rhapsody - and delivered something space-age-crazy and dazzlingly fresh to the masses. Sure, there were Queen influences galore (as on Soldier's Poem), but elsewhere the forebears were harder to pin down. Surprising first single Supermassive Black Hole was a weirdly heavy robot-funk fusion, while chorusless opener Take A Bow set the album's tone of futuristic rise-and-fall synths and bombastic effects-heavy guitar riffs. Their pseudo-ballads - Starlight and Invincible - are crowning glories, but it's when they rock that they rule the gallery. Drummer Dominic Howard's chops stand-out on Assassin, where he matches Bellamy's machine-gun riffing, but the crowning moment for the band's entire career remains spaghetti-western-meets-sci-fi closer Knights Of Cydonia - one of the most amazing pieces of music of the decade and the best song they've ever made.

9. Ágætis byrjun - Sigur Ros (2000)

MUCH was made of the otherworldly tranquility of this album from Iceland's favourite sons, and for good reason. Critics tripped over themselves to call its pace "glacial" and to liken it to the moon-like landscapes of the Atlantic island nation that yeilded it, but fittingly so. It's the decade's most beautiful-sounding album, with each song unfolding at a majestic pace, laden with heavenly strings, ethereal atmospheres and Jonsi Birgisson's transcendent falsetto. Agaetis byrjun is never in a hurry to get anywhere - only one song clocks in under six minutes - and the whole effect is of an album seeping into your brain slowly and being absorbed gently. Tracks such as Staralfur (Staring Elf) and the astonishing Svefn-g-englar (Sleepwalkers) don't so much feature verses and choruses as movements, while songs don't so much end and begin as take a deep quiet inhalation before the next moment of breath-taking beauty. To say that Sigur Ros found a unique sound and style is an understatement - it's near impossible to pin influences to them or pick up anything since that bears their influence. Like Iceland itself, Agaetis byrjun sits removed from the rest of the world and is a unique and beautiful place to visit.