A dense, sometimes challenging, but ultimately patience-rewarding listen.

A dimly lit, lo-fi hybrid, Shake takes its cue from some of Harvey's most successful past works, but has its own uniquely brash textures.

All Eternals Deck is as obvious in its quality as Darnielle is obvious in his earnestness.

It is achingly beautiful and uncompromisingly hardcore. This might be too much to take, or too painful, or too frightening to you. But don’t worry: it is happening to everybody.

If any record of this relatively young year demands your full attention then Shaking the Habitual is it, as it opens up as a vast chasm of unexpected possibilities, and despite any possible subconscious misgivings, you’ll immediately want to jump in without thinking twice.

Cavalcade is an experience album, one that lingers long after it’s over. It calls to you from the basement.

Here, Lopatin excels at what he’s been doing since his first release as Oneohtrix Point Never, and what first brought us to him: drawing feeling out of the digital realm, instead of just channeling it.

Though he can be likened to a number of classic singers, some of the all-time greats might I add, his work is his own and ultimately original in its identity.

It’s noteworthy that this latest record is on par with those two [Soundtracks for the Blind and The Seer] in quality, because it marks his largest leap forward in a long time. By imagining a future without himself, Michel Gira has opened up an eternity of possibilities. He’s let the light shine in – and that is deeply moving. He’s found peace.

Ram's 2012 reincarnation sounds impeccable. Though the bonus tracks don't pack much punch, the LP's dozen original cuts, crowned by the breakthrough sensation "Uncle Albert / Admiral Halsey," arguably make this LP McCartney's seminal solo effort.

Her storytelling eye is sharp and her ear is honed to bring the most out of it melodically and instrumentally (with a tipped hat to Jonathan Rado’s excellent production). ... She is a torch bearer for our times.

Antidawn is alive, and it expresses itself in those short bursts of iconic moments that shine something back.

The Rip Tide, though, never bursts at the seams, and never feels too slight. Each number in the collection packs weight, and repeat listenings allow all nine to unfold their unique beauty.

These tracks are sparse but airtight, haunting but unrelentingly gorgeous, both logical successors to the stunning second half of Aerial and completely unlike anything she's done.

It's all dizzying and overwhelming, but the sheer brute strength of The Money Store stays tempered by a pervasive, unbridled sense of creativity.

The results are just about as great as expected. Perhaps more than ever, the rapper paints the world of the faded, the dense and the spacey are a labyrinth for Curren$y's creation.

To call the record spectacular doesn’t do it justice. Over the span of 32 songs, Cindy Lee and Flegel melt into a wholly new sound world of imaginary Americana that feels incredibly hypnagogic. 1966 weighs heavy here, as The Velvet Underground, The Byrds, Ricky Nelson and Joe Meek collide into a strange new sound.

The resulting album is one that is deceptively simple, a send-up to the aggressive cultural awareness of old-school rap on the surface, filtered through a hundred different post-apocalyptic scenarios, musical and lyrical.

This is why Dye It Blonde is truly a success: the band have moved from the garage noise-rock sound to a much more atmospheric one wherein the noise is harnessed into multiple layers of melodic instrumentation.

Yes – this is possibly Aoba’s best work. Music incomparable to anything else, beautiful and eternal.

With Ritual Union, the band forges their own path and does not take the easy way out.

The symbolism of this album, poetic and interconnected, is vital and immense, while the sonic background is (for the most part) disquieting and unnerving. More so than Haram and even the spectral Test Strips, Mercy captures a world that is slowly embracing the unbearable evil of switching channels that morph to dead static.

It is a monumental piece that dextrously straddles his musical epochs; it is an account of history and a document of where he is now.

It is the bravery of the album that is its greatest triumph.

The album is a widening and a deepening of the style we've come to expect of Walker – but it's also got elements of a brightening of that sound as well.

Open Your Heart is incredibly intricate and technically masterful.

There is so much to both genuinely appreciate and enjoy on Swing Lo Magellan that it makes you wonder why these have to sometimes be exclusive ways to experience an album.

I Know What Love Isn't is more than a great pop album – it's the most singularly rewarding statement from one of the more uniquely gifted songwriting voices of the past decade.