Be Up a Hello can be a lot to take in at times, a rambunctious and restless effort from a man comfortable in his ability to make the dancefloor obsolete. But there’s more here than simply speed and density – there are strange currents working their way through the songs, hints are something deeper and more relatable than its superficial excess might suggest.

With All Bets Are Off, Tamar Aphek has crafted an impressively eclectic project, forging elegant balances between minimalism and maximalism and coalescing her affinities for a variety of musical styles.

Her pen excels in etching out the intricate wonders of the emotional spectrum in a way that shows an advanced progression of both musical and emotional maturation. Three Dimensions Deep is a wonder, and I’m sure we’ll be pointing to this album when we look back to what point the world knew Mark was a star.

More than anything, the album allows the trio to not only appeal to the variety within their followers, it also shows they’ve still got plenty of ground ahead of them.

There’s a lot here for 42 minutes and as a whole the album can be exhausting – but that feels very much like a deliberate outcome.

Era Extraña does not flow as smoothly as Psychic Chasms but the influences are in all the right places and it seems that Alan Palomo is wearing them proudly on his sleeve.

It lacks a genuine peak like “Spanish Sahara” or “Balloons,” but it achieves greater consistency elementally, if not tonally.

Each of these tunes, including the classical inflected "Fish With Broken Dreams" (the earliest track, ostensibly recorded when Maus was 19), hold up to the standard of his previous studio efforts, perhaps even surpassing some of the filler from his two earliest LPs.

If V betrays decadence, it doesn’t manifest itself as sprawl or poor editing – much less a notional narrative. Its languidness is actually its charm, a direct contrast to almost anything in UMO’s fidgety catalog save “Jello And Juggernauts” from the 2011 debut.

It’s a record that captures The Murder Capital at their most raw and uncompromising – alive in the turbulence, unafraid of what lies within and around them.

There’s inevitably a Portishead vibe throughout, but it doesn’t hinder the sound of Ice Melt or reduce Crumb to imitator status – it simply compliments the ethereal sound they’re going for, and remarkably succeed at.

If you give the album the chance it deserves you will be rewarded by one of the strongest LPs you are likely to hear this year.

Her eighth studio album may be her most ambitious yet, but that added weight can lead some songs to run too long or feel overstuffed. She may still be trying to find the right balance between her larger soundscape and storytelling, but Home, before and after is an exciting evolution that feels both old and new.

Overall, while Blondes' debut album isn't quite as dynamic as the EP, it still serves its purpose as a notable standout from the upstart duo.

As a product of Yorke’s mind, AMOK represents a measurable progression over The Eraser. It’s more experimental, varied, nuanced, and likeable.

ME REX have taken a leap and tried something fresh, and depending on how much the thought of an album with instructions thrills or annoys you, you’ll get varying degrees of enjoyment from it. Equally though, that’s kind of the point.

It can be taken as a given that any longstanding fans will immediately enjoy Algiers, but for newcomers, this is also a perfect access point to what is one of the most consistent bands of the 2000s.

Through the steady flowing of Allison's vocals and the constant strumming of the chords as well as the steady drum beats, the band proves that they are more than just robots and distortion; the Kills are indeed talented musicians.

While a more harder-edged and rougher sound certainly could have upped the ante a bit and helped the songwriting talents of Brian Fallon reach a wider audience that would most likely have required an entirely new band, and this is after all "only" a side-project--but it's a very fine one, worthy of attention from both newcomers and already converted.

Girls Names does not dwell on the dourness, but conquers and transforms it into a solace--a sound resulting from some hallucinatory fever like a Max Ernst painting, realizing the shadowy dimension parallel to this existence.

Ultimately, Skullcrusher gives you a small yet satisfying taste of Ballentine’s blossoming internal world—it will be exciting to see where she takes us next.

This EP is a fine stopgap between Morbid Stuff and their next full-length; nothing more, nothing less. The mixture of self-deprecation and unceasing anxiety remains. This Place Sucks Ass: it’s actually the whole world that sucks ass right now, and PUP know it.

Something about The Fellowship makes one want to listen to it again and again, but it’s not something that can be put to words, it needs to be experienced — just like a lifetime and the memories made in the process.

Overall, Ceremonials leaves everyone's opinions of Florence + the Machine in stasis; if you loved or hated her before, you'll still feel the same way, if you were unsure, you'll still be unsure.

A fairly unique record that shape-shifts through electronic tones all while giving us a clear view of her inner monologue.

Be The Void matches guitarist Scott McMicken's clever lyrics, precise riffs, and quivery vocals to the rare glottal gift and intricate bass work of Toby Leaman in this jumble of freaky throwbacks, reflective ruminations, and spontaneous psychedelic bursts.

It's the kind of record best fitted for when you're unsure as to what to listen to or when you've got an autumn or winter evening to yourself.