Sometimes pushing the envelope may be a grandiose gesture, other times more subtle, and while Wild Nothing may never be a Brian Eno, there’s certainly nothing wrong with being a Felt or Go-Betweens.

Modern Vampires of the City finds the band in both familiar and unfamiliar territory, and it’s pure pleasure hearing them navigate these waters.

Unpredictable it is not, but taken as a study of sound and mood, it’s kind of perfect.

It may not be the most instantly appealing of albums, but with a little time it proves itself to be more than its title suggests.

While the fury remains, there a perceptible dip in quality in nearly every aspect of the Thermals’ formula.

It’s surprisingly how unaffecting and mediocre most of it is.

Since Savages have cultivated such a politicized aesthetic, it’s hard to divorce the concept behind the art from the art itself, but Silence Yourself delivers if you are willing to submit to its unflinching authority.

It may not reach the same creative highs or artistic wholeness of their previous releases, but in its own right, it can be just as enjoyable.

Akron/Family are never going to stop changing and you never really know what you’re gonna get, but they could perhaps do with a bit more cohesiveness and bit less grandiosity next time around.

With additional help from fellow musician and frequent collaborator Justin Vernon (whose vocals are the only overdubbed aspect of the music), the songs on To See More Light are as devastatingly personal as they are emphatically otherworldly--inhuman sounding even. This stark dichotomy of sound and intent throws Stetson’s music into austere relief.

Thirty tracks and seventy-five minutes, Fabric 69 is a work of incredibly sturdy sonic architecture; it’s hardly inert or monotonous, yet at the same time it takes techno’s notion of repetition to what might be considered a logical extreme.

The Marriage of True Minds is something of a record built for everyone, a fusion of sounds and ideas built from the thoughts and minds of lots of different people; there will be different moments that deter and attract different people, but there are more than enough of the better ones to keep you hooked for the album’s runtime.

Nothing here is overtly thrilling but ultimately the record is a real joy to listen to.

Bankrupt! suffers because it feels a little detached at times, like you can’t really tell where the band are in the big picture.

Tunes are built slowly and satisfyingly, ebbing and flowing into oceans of ambient sound. Through these layers, though, shine frequent flashes of utter brilliance.

As a pure entertainment piece, Twelve Reasons To Die appeals directly to the brain’s pleasure center.

They’re still capable of brilliance (particularly on the opening and closing tracks), but too much of Mosquito is bogged down by tongue-in-cheek frivolity.

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.

Excavation is vivid and physical, each moment meticulously and purposefully crafted.

With any luck, Wakin On A Pretty Daze will go down as a document to the workman he really is.

Off the Record, despite a few promising tracks, never provides a strong enough reason for listeners to do anything but go back and admire what he accomplished with Kraftwerk.

Dadub have crafted an LP with depth and subtle yet grand-scale dimension, adding another excellent release to the Stroboscopic Artefacts canon.

Total Nite comes less than a year on from Children of Desire and feels like a natural continuation of their sound.

While James Blake felt aloof, even ahuman, Overgrown is packed with feeling, and releases it with the smallest of gestures.

Wolf is a serious mess.

As one of the most polarizing records in their extensive discography, this release is sure to divide certain fans, especially those who were disillusioned by the relative inaccessibility of Embryonic. For listeners looking for a noisy and thoroughly experimental album, though, The Terror is just what the doctor ordered.

A shining example of what hip-hop should always strive to be, at least to a devoted segment of rap nationalists untroubled by the anachronism of rejecting the clean synth lines of this century’s rap in favor of its dusty aesthetics of the early to mid ‘90s.

Tricolore is enjoyable, but it’s a sum of two different parts; together it comes off as strangely disjointed, like shifting from speaking German to speaking Japanese.