The Rumour Said Fire By the Shore Jasper Lidang grew up in remote northern Denmark filling long childhood hours by intercutting his dad's Paul Simon records with Nirvana and the Cure. This, from his band's debut, is touched by the deep drama and exquisite melancholy of the Bee Gees' finest late-60s chamber-pop. Rob Fitzpatrick
Judy Garland Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas My eternal festive fave. To experience its full weepy impact, it should only be heard while watching the film that popularised it, Meet Me in St Louis. Caroline Sullivan
Spiro The City and the Stars Systems music meets folk, courtesy of the Bristol instrumental quartet who manage to combine complex arrangements with emotion and attack. This is on their forthcoming album Kaleidophonica, released in the New Year. Robin Denselow
Lana del Rey Born to Die Following up a debut single as strong as Video Games was always going to be tricky, but this string- soaked, beat-driven slice of melodious miserablism is even better. Her star will surely shine in 2012. Chris Salmon
Kate Bush Snowflake The 50 Words for Snow opener takes me back to Wuthering Heights. Not because the songs are similar, but the feel: windswept Haworth moors, and beautiful desolation. Dave Simpson
Adam and the Ants Whip in My Valise I saw Adam Ant live for the first time this weekend. He was, I'm delighted to report, magnificent: never more so than when performing this 1979 B-side, a brutal, feedback-laden paean to S&M from the dark, filthy, pre-fame Ants. Alexis Petridis
Nicki Minaj Roman in Moscow The first track to emerge from the second album of Minaj (pictured) suggests a return to the harder edge that defined her earlier stuff, as well as her incredible verse on Kanye's Monster. It's not very likely that it will be covered by a couple of six-year-old girls from Essex on YouTube, but that's no bad thing. Rebecca Nicholson
The Ghost When You're Dead Spinning random old vinyl the other day turned up this berserk prog-psych single from 1970 – a staple of my late-80s mixtapes – on a compilation from the Bam Caruso label. It starts cheerily – "So, now you're dead" – and it never gets any less odd, building to a properly unhinged last 40 seconds. Michael Hann
