There isn't a dull moment on this album.

This is beautiful stuff and my favourite yet from Deepchord.

There Were Seven may not be much of an evolution, but it still feels like revolution.

If there were any doubts among the faithful about legendary Quebec prog-metal dudes Voivod being able to recapture the magic of their classic era in the absence of deceased guitarist Denis "Piggy" D'Amour, they're shattered within moments of the title track.

The record packs familiar Function trademarks--industrial themes, hissing white noise, acid loops and retro rhythms--but the ideas fall short of reinvigorating the legacy established after Sandwell Disctrict's full-length, Feed Forward, landed in 2010.

Kvelertak feel as though they are right on the verge of something extraordinary, as they explore the limits of their very successful aesthetic with Meir.

Steffi's transitions on Panorama Bar 05 sound smooth enough that they turn a mix listener's typical consideration of song blends towards the complementary selection of plunging machine sounds, naturalized in Panorama Bar 05 upon the steps of an ascendant, emotive trajectory.

Although the album doesn't repeat a verse-chorus-verse-chorus-breakdown formula, it also lacks distinct or memorable riffs.

Despite the barebones recording techniques and instruments--East German drum machines, a toy Casio and a Soviet-made Faemi organ, all recorded and overdubbed on primitive Tesla machines--the sounds on The Lost Tapes are immersive, complex and also difficult to classify.

Their blend of bluegrass, blues and ragtime isn't unique within the current old-timey undercurrent of Americana, but frontman Pete Bernhard's songwriting contains enough contemporary flair to provide a solid backbone for the album's ten tracks

On their third album since Andrew Neufeld moved to vocals, Comeback Kid were poised to strike out, but pleasantly, they instead knock Die Knowing out of the park.

With Sun Choir, this Edinburgh trio found a way to pull a thousand (almost literally) voices together to create a singular vision.

Fresh, crisp drums, creamy keys, luxuriant strings and timely flute and horn flourishes, each held together by a series of mood-defining bass lines, work to soundtrack this production, an inspiring foil that the record's MCs make certain not to waste on this grand testament to Souls' skill and staying power.

It's dreamy eccentricity; a little crazy and courageous, and a strong statement.

Though the occasional use of spoken word on the record jars uncomfortably, this debut is about as accomplished as one could reasonably expect.

Alpha is the brighter and longer disc of the two, varied in its execution by walking a line between challenging, progressive moments and more accessible fare.

Tinged with vintage Afrobeat instrumentation, Fashawn hangs admirably with his label boss, assertively vowing he's in it for the long haul, issuing a forthright missive that confirms The Ecology was definitely worth the wait

An aural delight that deserves multiple spins.

This ability to stretch a unique sonic sensibility in many different emotional directions is what heightens this collection of songs so that it's an experience unto itself. It's an engaging listen that demands persistent exploration.

If Every Time I Die's consistency hasn't impressed you these past few LPs, Buckley's bout of unbridled emotion on Low Teens certainly should.

True to its name, Uyai is also a glorious, world-conscious party. Beautiful indeed.

It's a spiritually holistic, potent dose of manna fit to feed a weathered movement.

In an uncertain era, signposted with fallen heroes, Revolution Come…Revolution Go is a comforting, potent affirmation that Gov't Mule will continue to flourish.

Outside of nostalgia, though, much of the work still feels necessary.

The Siren's Song is another compelling chapter in what looks increasingly likely to be the long story of Kacy & Clayton's career.

This record is not a reimagining of the band or a fresh start. Loved is an exercise in moulding what KEN Mode has always been good at into a perfect soundtrack for these times of great political uncertainty.

Combining the passionate onslaught of hardcore with a reasonable portion of grunge and radio-ready power pop, the New York group's cynical punk tone often feels effortless. If you're just hearing of Drug Church or weren't sold on their two prior works, now's the time to stay for a sermon.

Fear in a Handful of Dust might just be the best sonic definition for imperfect beauty we've got right now. Luckily, with the recent formation of Tobin's new label, Nomark, it looks like we'll be waiting far less than eight years for the next body of work.