POP
A-HA
Foot of the Mountain
(Universal/We Love Music)
***
Since reuniting in 1998, A-ha have trodden water rather than surged towards greater glories. Hampered by what seems to be a hearty dislike of each other and complicated by Morten Harket being a non-songwriting singer, the Norwegian trio have struggled to secure a release for their records in the United States — though the Germans have fallen in love with them all over again.

Despite a ringing endorsement from childhood fans Coldplay, Britain lies somewhere in between.
Foot of the Mountain, only their ninth album, has been billed as a return to past glories and finds A-ha at their most imperious.

Harket's voice, instantly recognisable and full of pathos, is their calling card. It wraps itself around some achingly melancholic lyrics (“The phone is off the hook/You sink into a book/You don't know where you are,” he sighs on Nothing Is Keeping You Here), and gives the band a not-always-heralded substance and depth.

Behind Harket, songwriters Paul Waaktaar-Savoy and Magne Furuholmen offer some deceptive backdrops. The Bandstand is an attempt to re-write Take on Me, while Riding The Crest claims to be in thrall to Arcade Fire and Sunny Mystery is almost up-tempo.

Their real forte, though, is sweeping grandeur and Start the Simulator, the title track and Shadowside are as huge as they are bleak.
For all the obvious craft, there's a dearth of unmistakable pop brilliance — but there's enough here to keep A-ha relevant.
JOHN AIZLEWOOD

Master Shortie
ADHD
(Odd One Out)
***
Trying to satisfy the current public appetite for poppy London rappers is Theo Kerlin, who once starred as Simba in the Lion King stage show and briefly attended the ubiquitous BRIT School. It's obvious why his album has that title. He leaps from electro to R&B to funk with barely a pause, rapping and singing as he goes. His recent single, Dance Like a White Boy, is typically manic, its pummelling drums and shouted chorus walking a line between inspiration and irritation. Much of ADHD doesn't work but the ringing guitar of Dead End appeals, and if he's desperate for a hit he has the Adam Ant-sampling Nothing to Be Scared of as a novelty fallback.
DAVID SMYTH

Reverend & The Makers
A French Kiss in the Chaos
(Wall of Sound)
***
Jon “The Reverend” McClure been busy since his band's 2007 debut. The Sheffield singer-songwriter's extra-curricular activities include singing in the dog-awful Mongrel and slating the BNP on This Week — but it's as frontman of Reverend & The Makers that he's most compelling. Whether pretending to be Ian Brown over the motorik groove of Silence Is Talking or playing the impassioned politico on the hypnotic Manifesto / People Shapers, McClure has plenty to say on “mobile phones” (bad) and “giving a fuck” (good). On Long Long Time, he also has a melody to move him from the Commons to the Cabinet. Perhaps pop and politics can mix after all.
RICK PEARSON

Cornershop
Judy Sucks Lemon For Breakfast
(Ample Play)
***
It's good to have a new record from Cornershop, who can hardly be accused of pursuing a punishing work ethic, rather doing things that please them when the mood strikes. Having said that, Judy Sucks a Lemon for Breakfast does not find the band at their finest. A short burst of sitar sounds perky as an opener but Who Fingered Rock 'n' Roll degenerates into a Primal Scream pastiche. Soul School is a jolly romp and the title track is a typically Cornershop-style observation of lives lived in gentle hedonism. Yet snippets such as Half Brick and Shut Southall Down are inconsequential, while a half-hearted cover of Bob Dylan's The Mighty Quinn eludes me.
PETE CLARK

JAZZ
Christian McBride
Kind of Brown
(Mack Avenue)
****
Bassist Christian McBride's latest album is dedicated to Freddie Hubbard, the trumpet great who gave him his first New York break. It sees McBride return to the straight-ahead fold with a new quintet. Altoist Steve Wilson, a pillar of the Dave Holland Big Band, shares its frontline with a talented newcomer, vibraphonist Warren Wolf. Drummer Carl Allen and pianist Eric Scott Reed complete a close-knit rhythm section. Beside the leader's originals are two neglected themes by Hubbard and pianist Cedar Walton, plus one standard, Where Are You. Apart from this bowed-bass feature McBride is sparing with his solos, which are brilliant.
JACK MASSARIK