Every Time I Die have established themselves as one of the more reliable and relatable (in a nervy, dysfunctional way) acts to come out of the genre, not to mention one of the most discernable, and the commanding From Parts Unknown does nothing to tarnish that reputation.

Smart selections make this the best and handiest introduction to a group crucial to the development of industrial, post-punk, and dance music.

The strength of the songs and the powerful energy with which the duo deliver them help them escape any charges of ripping off the past.

Best to part it out and party, because if there's a blueprint for the vocal EDM album, A Town Called Paradise follows it too closely, spinning through all the usual breaks and drops without pausing to consider the full picture.

Mosaics Within Mosaics may be the project's most ambitious sonic scrapbook, but its masterful presentation makes its cornucopia of found-sound indie micro-symphonies float by gracefully.

Gamel is a frenzied and ecstatic experience, and one that ends up being brilliant in its bizarre combinations of sounds and ideas.

The album rolls along with a meditative, confident feeling, morphing into a bright dream-like celebration in its many various peaks.

Even though the band isn't doing anything that listeners haven't heard before, the album's lyrical depth will reward fans who take the time to sit down and really explore the record.

Songs like "Woke Up to the Light," with its seemingly innocuous Alphaville "Forever Young"-inspired foundation and the churning "Mirage Year," the latter of which explodes into a full-on sonic assault that sounds like it must have taken weeks to clean up after, present themselves as measured and somewhat even-tempered, but like the majority of Heal, they're barely contained time capsules on the verge of catharsis, and whatever beauty they possess will ultimately burn up upon re-entry.

These gangly excursions in rap are evidence of Sheeran's youth and his generation, something that keeps X from being merely a bit of excellently crafted mature pop and gives it some appealing character.

An immersive album that feels designed to be taken as a whole, What Is This Heart? reveals How to Dress Well coming into its own.

Phox is an undeniably tight unit, and their long history as friends imbues each track with a distinctive warmth that eludes similar-sounding acts, but their not-so-secret weapon is Martin, who can bend cliches to her will, and does so often throughout the 12-song set.

With Neon Icon it's just as easy to tune in, drop out, and twerk.

Once again, HMD appeal to novices and experts alike.

When GusGus joined Kompakt, the association seemed odd--almost charitable on the label's part--but now it makes total sense.

Liberation! remains highly listenable and likeable, keeping its potentially edgy sentiments hidden just far enough behind Bauer's knack for penning memorable, evocative rock tunes.

The songwriting, playing, and production here are inspired, kinetic, and far more accessible than ever before.

Just as they did on their best album, Ashes Grammar, the band takes risks and makes leaps, and the results on Sea When Absent prove that they are one of the best, most interesting under-the-radar bands of their era.

All these light moments are tempered with Joakim's wistful, distant vocals, as if the album were a lazy getaway where breezy beaches during the day give way to bittersweet memories around the evening campfire. Sweet stuff, and besides that, it sticks.

With Geist, Stagnant Pools haven't made any leaps forward, more like a small step backward into something even more interesting and powerful than before.

Refreshing in its conciseness and brightness, Shaken Up Versions embraces change even as it unites the different eras of the Dreijers' music.

Much of the album is infused with a Casablancas-meets-RSO Records aesthetic circa 1980. Ultimately, it’s just that style, matched with musical substance, that helps Cruel Runnings register as a lot more than just retro hipster pastiche.

2011's Ninth was the leanest and most immediate collection of new material from Peter Murphy to arrive since the late '90s, and Lion, his tenth long-player, while a much different animal (pun intended) sonically, goes for the jugular in a similar fashion.

For all its sonic "ambition," Phosphorescent Harvest is a mess. It's a collection of songs without a unifying center.

The entire album sparkles with this same brilliant pacing and the group's thoughtful trek between detached analog electronics and passionate acoustic instrumentation.

Weird, wonderful, and otherworldly stuff, as if Lil B. Lil Kim, Beenie Man, Beyonce, and Dr. Frank-N-Furter were spliced together with all their collective sass preserved, then piled high.

While(1<2) is a very good, very restrained, and very inspired Deadmau5 effort.

Last Dance is a necessary addendum to Jasmine; it fleshes out the confident, mature, amiable, and eloquent speech in the canonical language these two jazz masters share.