If your first album had been as well-received as The Coral's was, you might be tempted to rest on your laurels for a while. These precocious youngsters are made of sterner stuff, however - and so, a mere 364 days after their Mercury-nominated debut we have Magic And Medicine, further proof of why the Scouse sextet have been widely hailed as the best new band in Britain. Their stylistic range remains as dazzlingly inventive as ever, taking in everything from 60s psychedelic beat-pop to folk singalongs and throwing in chunks of jazz-rock and scally-flavoured ska for good measure. Frontman James Skelly's cut and paste approach, meanwhile, means that every song is liable to change identity at least a couple of times before it reaches the end. The Coral have lost something of their novelty value, and you get the feeling that they're still struggling to find their own true voice. But this is the sound of genius in its puberty - and the sheer sense of giddy excitement it conveys makes it one of the most enjoyable albums of the year so far.
