Peggy Lee Sans Souci Having heard this sung by Michelle Dockery at the Barbican's Jazz Voice gig last week, I was charmed enough to seek out the original. And what a thing it is: Lee (below) does the bossa nova, her vocal serving as the how-to for all future "sultry" artists. Caroline Sullivan
Madonna Human Nature Rihanna's try-hard smut sent me straight back to the smarter, grownup version, a song that shows Madonna to be one of the only pop stars who can pull off the word "oops" with a straight face (the other, of course, being Britney Spears). Rebecca Nicholson
Jake Mattison Golden Friends With an Irish-Catholic Gypsy mother, and a half-Brazilian father more in than out of prison, Mattison has boxed professionally and designed clothes, but he also writes wonderful songs such as this one, strung out in the ether somewhere between Tim Buckley and Michael Kiwanuka.
Rob Fitzpatrick Drake Marvins Room This sparse highlight from Drake's excellent (if lengthy) new album, Take Care, sees the morose Canadian egotist call an ex-girlfriend to rap/croon about the perils of success. The results are far more interesting than most post-fame musical grumbles. Chris Salmon
Doll by Doll Main Travelled Roads An exquisite Celtic soul anthem from a band who could be lyrical as well as scary. RIP Jackie Leven. Robin Denselow
Roll the Dice Calling All Workers Dolorous, clanging gloomfest from dystopian Swedish synth duo. An Enoesque melody drifts in wisps across the track, but its prettiness is soon crushed by the endless, slowly pounding grey. Grim stuff, all told, and as such, perfectly suited to the November commute. Tom Ewing
Eagulls Council Flat Blues Currently the talk of the Leeds music scene, these five ex-students are a brilliantly raucous post-hardcore collision between Snuff and My Bloody Valentine. Be warned: their gigs are "exciting, loud and best attended wearing earplugs". Dave Simpson
Young Bleed Holla At Uh Dog The drifting flute and intricate percussion of the beat on this track fit together so neatly that it could have been crafted on a hand loom; combined with Young Bleed's deep southern drawl, it makes for an aqueous track that perfectly evokes his native Louisiana's swamps. Alex Macpherson
