Through headphones, Ssss lacks proper punctum. Through speakers, it fails to infect.

Guilt Mirrors covers different facets of Harte’s unfiltered work ethic, cobbled together into an unpredictable jumble of distinctive idiosyncrasies that somehow brings more clarity into his thought process.

Hansen has appropriated this kind of self-reflective, blissful IDM with skilled craft, but when the final result is too inwardly focused and monolithic you wish he’d let out a bit more.

The end result is the kind of unique album that only results from someone who has spent a career staying true to themselves, playing every instrument, writing every song, adopting a singular fashion stance, and even opening their own record label. This album is a reflection of that growth, and hopefully a promise for more of the same.

Earth Division is more interesting than satisfying, but it's difficult to dismiss its beauty and its reach past the band's comfort level.

Gough has crafted a beautiful sonic masterpiece that is equal parts raw, open emotion and simplicity and a picture-perfect example of a truly layered production.

Yet, while it's unlikely that the previously familiar will be suddenly converted by these endeavours, it wouldn't be strictly fair to say that there's not the occasional hint of a broadened palette on display here.

A band who could easily lit up a faithful audience with tender and yearning emotions is failing to connect on spin, and beginning to show signs of exhaustion, lending themselves to a stately, unambitious format that’s consistent to a fault.

Nanobots is, at the end of the day, a solid and immensely likable album.

Even if Velasquez and Vidal haven't fully carved their identity as a new project, their savvy sense of songcraft hasn't waned after all these years.

For all its faults, give Night of Hunters more than a little patience, and perhaps don't pay too close attention to the plot, and it reveals itself to be Amos' most consistent, interesting album since her mid-90s heyday.

Reminiscent without sounding derivative, this is another fine effort from Tan.

The difficulty here is that each volume is a separate entry, the band’s maiden two-album release a mere showcase of multiple outlets as opposed to something consistent or whole, making what should be a milestone for the band more of a missed opportunity. With that said, listen to it, anyway. There’s still at least one very good album here.

From the outset, it is clear that this album is a triumph.... An album of great beauty, potential and emotional involvement.

Generally speaking, the beats remain hard enough, and the riffs have a sharp enough edge to maintain Woman’s effect throughout, and the elastic textures created by Augé and de Rosnay display a real lushness, warm and cold in equal measures.

The ethereal keyboard lines and the chemistry between the two guitars are able to trap a listener within the album right from the start, and it rarely lets you stray too far from the music.

It amounts to one of the more dense, layered, anxious, and fun things they have released in a long time.

The lyrical flaws are not a fatal stab, but it’s an enormous burden.

With Cry, the instrumentation has turned into self-parody, the production is a painful slog, and the worst lyrics are impossible to ignore.

Forcefield chiefly sounds more relaxed and natural, fully letting go of the stilted verses and swift tempos they’ve been gradually forgoing ever since A Lesson in Crime made such an immediate splash.

Although this may not be a masterpiece in the repertoire, I can't say that it lacks anything in particular, in fact, the opposite is true. It gives too much. There just became a point where I needed to avert my attention away from the heart-ache.

It gets a bit boring, a bit sleepy, and altogether, it's a bit forgettable.... But, you know? It sounds good doing it. That has to count for something.

Palm do stand out from their contemporaries on Rock Island, especially since they equally embrace and rile against indie rock as a conservative movement. Their nonconformist aesthetic is imbued with an independent spirit, even if the sources they pull from prevents them from really taking off.

Changing Horses emphatically answers the question of “what next?” for Ben Kweller and although not faultless, it’s a strong showing, especially for someone exploring a new musical direction as he is.

Golden Triangle isn’t the second coming of anything in particular, but they at least know what they’re doing.

The many highlights on Heartstrings suggest that the band are back on track with a bang, reminding us all of the captivating, sultry qualities that they can generate musically, something that is personified by their singer.

Most of all, the music is a nostalgic trip to a time that most of its listeners have never actually experienced. That concept makes Out Of Love enchanting, but it's one of those albums that mood, time, place and company all have to line up correctly to capture the intended experience.

There is absolutely no doubt that this is an important album.