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

Too often--as on ‘The Last Of Goodbyes’, with its limp rap and doleful Burialisms--it sounds like Moby pastiching his old self. On the flip side, ‘Welcome To Hard Times’, a sunny Balearic soul shuffle, is lovely, and the ghostly piano haunting ‘The Tired And The Hurt’ contains the muscle memory of his masterpiece ‘Porcelain’, but they’re isolated sparkles.

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

It’s a gorgeous record, from start to finish.

A heavy bass throb infects ‘Retour au Champs de Mars’, beating out a slow, muted rhythm like a submarine engine, while the pair channel labelmate Nils Frahm with the emotive strings, piano and frazzled electronica of ‘Comme on a Dit’.

It’s a twilight dream of a record that’s uncompromisingly odd but absolutely direct, and addictive from first listen. The Invisible have made the album of the summer.

It’s compulsive and hypnotic.

Maier’s urbane persona is as funny, funky and disquieting as ever, and this album is a righteously fresh addition to their catalogue.

It’s frequently funky and witty, the production and melodies burn themselves onto your memory, and while occasionally it’s more impressive than lovable, you can’t argue with its clarity of vision.

There’s nothing new here, but you know what? That’s more than fine.

The momentum does slacken, though, and the album doesn’t feel particularly structured. Still, songs such as the fierce ‘Scum’ and the stately ‘No More’ are worthy additions to the band’s catalogue, and have far more grit and vividness than you’d expect from any band 37 years into their career.

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

The whole thing feels vast, a lunar soundscape ripe for exploration.

As with anything this ambitious, it occasionally over-reaches itself--but the highlights are magical, and should see Moderat reach ever bigger audiences.

Little Red’s desire to tread new ground is admirable and, in principle, the idea of Katy going head-to-head with US r’n’b singers is great, but the quality is simply not as dynamic, hook-laden or convincing as the first five songs.

The emotional impact is concentrated in each and every tune, and the whole album manages to achieve a genuinely epic scope in under 40 minutes. [Apr 2018, p.92]

It's the instrumentals that impress the most.

Heartfelt lullabies backed by rich instrumentation make for a promising enough first half that leads to the dour title track. From here, razor-blade distortion, crashing cymbals and mournful torment combine to create a tough listen, before respite eventually comes in the form of an exhausted outro.

Nobody else sounds like them right now.

Wiley's finally made the album that his talent warrants.

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

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”.

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.

They’re solid tracks though few approach his greatest moments.

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.

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

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

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.