There’s something about CEO’s second album that’s so wide-eyed, so full of wonder that even when it approaches absolute sugar overload it’s impossible to dislike.

As you might guess, it’s not all fun and games, but there’s bone-dry lyrical wit and absolute clarity of voice (no guest spots!)--and its understanding of bleep and bass tonality gives it instant appeal. [May 2018, p.116]

The operatic IDM of the previously released 'Mountain Divide' is hard not to view as the pick, but even so, Tundra still has all the sonic intensity of an R&S classic.

On some songs it feels like it’s still an experiment in progress--it’ll be fascinating to see how they evolve on the live stage and in remixes--but just as often, Orton is absolutely on top of her game.

It makes for a tumultuous trip that has all the highs and lows of a real relationship, and one that sounds as good alone, on headphones, as it will in the club.

Here, psychedelically hypnotic robot incantations weave through ambient soundscapes and piercing synths to brain-frying effect. [Jun 2018, p.113]

An album of magic and wonder from the mystical mavericks of Norwegian disco.

Whether doomily atmospheric or dissonant like 'Insulin', Crystal Castles successfully nail it for the third time running.

By going back to the first principles of house he's built something very new and very wonderful.

The Keychain Collection is a sensuous LP of love songs and well engineered instrumentals.

Tender, beautifully melancholy urban electronica.

It's imaginative and endlessly intriguing.

The Inheritors is an extraordinary, unique record from one of electronic music’s most vivid minds.

He throws minute snippets of deep soul, techno, funk, liquid acid, Kraftwerk, Eurythmics, cosmic jazz and more into his blender, chops them into freaky, twitchy rhythms and underpins them with monumental bass--and it is amazing.

It can be tough going, but it’s really worth getting your teeth into.

Thankfully, it doesn’t veer too wildly from his solo work, as Man Duo dive into shuddering Krautrock rhythms, slow-burn electro and stoner synth-pop.

Easy listening it isn’t, but from the barest of palettes, Kowton has built something with personality and raw power.

Their fourth mix offers a vivid explanation of their enduring popularity.

While the bold brush strokes of Personality may alienate some hardened purists, it may just turn out to be the defining release of Scuba's career.

Sebenza ranges and explores, opening sonic doors that deserve more regular use.

The results are atmospheric, rough around the edges but captivating, unique and extraordinary.

It's on the 'Disco Queen' side that Thorn's voice really shines through, with both Geist's mix of 'Why Does The Wind' and Escort's extended remix of 'It's All True' being as good as anything Todd Terry did to EBTG back in the 90s.

This is street-tough tech-house, happy to wear its hip hop, jazz, disco and Latin influences on its sleeve.

It's certainly more nuanced and wide-ranging. It's all the better for it.

Olson’s approach is simple without being naive and challenging rather than wilfully artsy, switching from the menacing ‘Weight’ to the pared-back acid of ‘Pop’.

Sure, it might be the same old names working within the confines of their signature sounds, but Total 15 presents Kompakt's current roster in vintage form.

This is a complex and endlessly enjoyable record.

It's the smart weaves in and out of expectation--the jolts, the swerves--that make it an instant classic.

Sometimes brilliant, often infuriating, it's a must-check nonetheless.

He’s made a motherf***ing exciting record, that’s for sure.

He’s a soundboy at heart, so you’ll hear bass-propelled elements at play (dewy jungle breaks, grimey synth stabs, low-end bumps, the no-bullshit patter of MC DRS), but ‘Presents James Grieve’ is all about exhilarating propulsion and the power of drums.

Bundick says the LP was born out of a growing discomfort with fame. If so, he masks it well--listening to its gorgeous, woozy pop is like lying in a Radox bath.

It’s like the best bits of MGMT, The Scissor Sisters and The Sleepy Jackson rolled into one.

It’s an ethereal experience from start to finish, Machinedrum eschewing his love of UK funky, future garage, r’n’b, footwork and other low-end strains in order to concentrate on lush, rhythmic, utterly transportive productions.

The bona-fide future-classic ‘Oh Woman Oh Man’, the soft-focused but laser-guided balladry of ‘Hell To The Liars’ and ‘Rooting For You’, and the title track are as good as anything on their debut--and in ‘Non Believer’, they may well have written their finest song yet.

Should I Remain Here At Sea? and Taste stand as proof that "Mastermind, Islands" should be Thorburn's lead credit. [No. 131, p.57]

The cuíca-driven balearica of ‘K16 del 1’ and avant-disco drive of ‘On U’ are standouts on an album of psychedelic grooves and tribal rhythms that unfurl with shimmering intensity.

It’s sassy, saucy, sexy and attitudinous, and though you’ve heard a lot of it before, Lady hits the spot more often than it misses.

It’s an album that’s a handy reminder of how inseparable weirdo experimentalism is from the badass mainstream in hip hop.

While it could have been clipped of a couple of tracks, overall the devil is in the glitchy, Fever-ish new details--and Dave has rarely sounded better.

While some may find it a little self-indulgent, judged in its entirety the depth of sound and overall arrangement are nothing short of masterful.

Ibifornia is a lush, exotic album with star-studded collabs which sounds as inspired by the jungle as it is by the dancefloor.

An LP of grown-up electronica that--like John Grant's 'Pale Green Ghosts'--boasts song-writing with serious crossover potential.

There might be doses of dancefloor energy through the Balearic string twangs of 'All I Want' and the pulsating, springy pads of Insides, but it’s definitely the dreamy, mind-expanding cuts that take precedent.

Edited to its very essence, the album is only 36 minutes long, but sometimes that’s all you need.

The whole thing smells of fresh-cut grass and warm... well, Air. The likes of Erol Alkan, Rory Philips and other first-generation 'Moon' explorers will adore it.

The dark, incendiary electronica of Mr Dynamite harking back to the anything-goes post-punk aesthetic of the late 70s. The work of Benge, Tuung’s Phil Winter, Cabaret Voltaire frontman Stephen Mallinder and everyone’s favourite mellifluous alt-crooner, John Grant, they ensure the record never stands still.

All the off-kilter rhythms and layers of organic sound loops are there, but it’s all a little bit bigger, the drama a little bit more heightened, and whatever oddness she might be singing about in Spanish it feels like a powerful personal statement.

Fixers--a new five-piece experimental pop act from Oxford--have what it takes to enter the fray.

This deft new album [is] a delight.

Impassioned rather than impatient and delicate where others opt for too-sweet delicacies, If You Wait is going all the way.

Well, the good news is American Dream rocks, rolls, pops, fizzes and snaps. The energy is still there, no two songs sound the same and the ambition is somehow even more future-retro than before.

[Ridha's] third studio album is a reliable journey into thrashing, powerful and industrial electro and techno.

They haven’t lost the ability to party, as proven by the grinding disco-funk of ‘Rejoice’, but Omnion is a serious, grown-up dance record for serious times.

The LP examines the traps of routine and the possibilities that dreaming and music offer to escape from them--and however distanced Iqbal might seem in her performance, as a listener you’ll quickly find both real connections to the album’s themes, and the variety of gorgeous sounds that she uses to express them.

Whatever you read into it, this is powerful, living dance music, above all else.

An album based on the carillon, a peal of bells played using a keyboard similar to a church organ, fused with gentle synth phrases, motorik rhythms.

Peder Mannerfelt, Paula Temple and NÍDIA are among the producers who worked on ‘Plunge’, bringing 150bpm batida rhythms and searing rave stabs to one of 2017’s most thrilling LPs.

On the whole, Cold Spring Fault Less Youth is a cerebral and arresting follow-up forged in harmonious invention.

Not always easy, but definitely worth it.

He's gone several steps further away from standard dance structure and into abstraction and ambience here – and it's all the better for it.

There are echoes of recognisable genres here, but the overwhelming sense is of a burned-out mind, muttering freaky things to itself, as sounds fizzle and char around it. Yet somehow, as the rhythms chatter, vocoders sing hymns to deviant gods and the synths melt, it sounds like something you want to get involved with.

The results are like a retrospective charting 25 years of innovation in UK club music.

It’s compulsive and hypnotic.

Strangely fascinating.

It may not be as groundbreaking as Kölsch's debut album, but it still hits all the right notes. Fans will be chuffed to bits with this.

Call their style what you like, this is a luscious record.

The tomfoolery may alienate some listeners, but across all genres of music, few concept albums have been crafted with such a level of infectious invention.

Here, he’s created an ultra-coherent, often beautiful and (despite it originally being ‘just’ background music) oddly personal statement.

Big and bold with smart production touches and melodies to match, this is an album destined for stadiums.

The sound of a master at work.

Prins Thomas 5, however, feels like a soft launch for Prins Thomas 2.0. You can hear it from the off on the glam-tastic ‘Here Comes The Band’, said to be influenced by the veteran Glasgow melodic indie band, Teenage Fanclub.

Turbines has them sounding more like a band and less like a studio project, but around their psychedelic boy-girl harmonies, circling guitar lines and insidiously weird lyrics, there are still plenty of analogue gurgles and swoops and strange, dubwise production finesse

With total belief in their worth, they re-introduce stylings seldom seen on contemporary dance albums, where mood and atmosphere too often trump melody and songcraft.

Fans of Flume and Caribou will find much to savour.

The whole album is perfectly paced, with hypnotic grooves and simple songwriting: density and space are constantly played off each other, helping to create something that should be taken in as a whole. It’s been well worth the wait.

An energetic, main-room mix that touches on many styles.

The result is skull-crushing, claustrophobic and wonderful.

Whether its impish character makes for a consistently engrossing listening experience is questionable, but it has moments of brilliance.

If you’re looking for a new album with real depth to play on repeat, with horns, pianos and cowbells to spare, this is it.

The chemistry between Agius and Redway is palpable.

This is some of Willner’s most enriching and captivating work yet.

The finest moment is ‘Fantasie Mädchen’, a manic banger on which Gudrun Gut provides borderline psychotic vocals.

Still puzzling, but for the most part very lovely.

When Nils Frahm curates a Late Night Tales installment, expectations are high. Does he deliver? Of course he does.

Overall, the hybrids hold together: as their No. 1 single ‘Feel The Love’ has shown, this may well be an experiment with the mainstream that pays off big time.

Greene has spoken of striving to create a paracosm himself with his lyrics, although his stoned drawl often renders them indecipherable. Still, they add to the sunlit, woozy, mysterious world that Washed Out has built.

Sometimes the album’s pacing drifts a little, but that’s a price worth paying for being taken to such mysterious places.

This new album works hard to add several new jams to his inimitable canon.

This is his first proper solo LP project since ‘Saturnz Return’, and it’s brilliantly, bloody-mindedly Goldie: a slew of deep d’n’b grooves offset by beatless lounge-blues arias and glamour-soaked jazz club noodlings.

Here, they sound comfortable as a band rather than an electronic duo who use guitars, with off-kilter songs that nod towards Joy Division and My Bloody Valentine and are full of fizzing synths and weeping accordions confirming their status as one of alternative pop’s finest acts.

Infectious and groove-laden, Lose My Cool manages to be both forward-thinking and vintage at the same time.

[Ron Morelli] actively dislikes clubs--but he’s managing to infiltrate them with this insurgent electronic music.

Ruinism isn’t a departure from the type of chopped foundations we’ve come to expect from Lapalux, it’s just less thick with haze: both onimous and gorgeous, it’s an album of two halves that tiptoes into a purgatory state.

Far from being austere, though, the cavernous riffs of ‘November’ or undulating synth pulses of ‘Phoenicia’ are like a warm blanket of comforting sound, while more direct and urgent Joy Division-esque kickers like ‘Complicated’ lurk elsewhere.

Swapping sixth form studies for her real passion of singing, writing and producing music, the 19-year-old’s mature debut is an autobiographical “art project”.

Not as immediately blissful as ‘Elaenia’, but a magical new direction nonetheless.

All of the trademark Marconi-isms are here, but they’re now emboldened by broader musical strokes.