The skittering electro-jazz rhythms, classical melodic complexity and mind-bending liquid acid funk are so unique that the closest comparisons you can make are to other Aphex Twin albums.

As Perfume Genius, American singer/songwriter Mike Hadreas has become synonymous with dark and emotionally heavy piano dirges that are as vulnerable as they are elegant. His third album contains many such songs, but also ratchets up the drama with help from co-producer Adrian Utley of Portishead.

Each song unfolds unhurriedly--the type of music that makes you dance into a state of cathartic calm rather than frenzy.

A chameleon with an endless stream of alter egos and the vocal chops to pull them all off.

Things gets off to a pleasant, somewhat meek start, but bongo-touched Clearer soon stands out for its forceful, head-turning melodies.

It’s nice to see Aiko atypically solo (Common provides the only rap feature), but more variety would be welcome.

Overall, it could use more joyous highs to balance out the lows. But still, his classical piano chops mean there’s never a dull moment--even with eight-and 10-minute tracks.

The departure of founding member guitarist/bassist Gwil Sainsbury hasn’t left them uninspired.

Sparkling arpeggios and sublime atmospherics undercut the loneliness and desperation in MacLean and Whang’s singing (the latter’s is the stronger of the two’s), giving tension to the confident and frequently beautiful production.

It’s satisfying enough to nod off to, even if it confirms suspicions that the band peaked at Pentastar.

It’s a sad irony that just as Earle has hit his stylistic stride--beautiful, pedal-steel-soaked country and poppier soul--he’s writing fewer tracks that’ll floor you.

Sebastien Grainger’s vocals show the benefit of spending the last few years touring with quieter bands, and listen closely for the subtle analog synth touches Jesse Keeler’s added behind his trademark wall-of-fuzz-bass sound.

The songs are excellent in their own right, but when they’re all lined up, Interpol start seeming like a one-trick pony.

While there are occasional flashes of brilliance on this 10th studio album, the missteps far outnumber the bright points.

Canada’s answer to the Fab Four, Sloan, are still charming after 23 years together.

Their third full-length is an 11-song collection of sincere, shimmering pop songs with golden hooks and unexpected hits of razor-sharp effects.

It’s refreshing to hear O sing so delicately--a contrast to the over-the-top persona of her slick main gig--we wish she’d let the heartbreak linger a few moments longer.

On his seventh studio album, however, he’s reinvigorated, dipping a toe into some of rap’s newer stylistic trends.

Throw in some elegant, economical strings arranged by Owen Pallett and touches of harmonica, vibraphone and sax and you’ve got the best 32 minutes of music you’ll hear anytime soon.

The result sounds like a stack of old 70s records your nerdiest music snob friend discovered in a dusty record store.

They have yet to capture the spontaneity of their live performances on record (leave that to recent doc The Ballad Of Shovels And Rope), but their sophomore effort certainly gets closer, even as it shows off the duo’s newfound musical breadth.

A master class in School of Iommi doom metal.

Emotionally, this album doesn’t live up to the principals’ own recent projects, but it’s an energetic, feel-good summer listen--in traditional New Pornographer’s style.

Cold Specks’s anticipated follow-up to her excellent gospel-indebted folk-soul debut, I Predict A Graceful Expulsion, is a much louder, much more rock ’n’ roll, much more experimental experience; fuzz and feedback and unexpected elements (like synths on Let Loose The Dogs) constantly make things more interesting.

As always, these include gorgeous guitar playing and pristinely arranged harmonies, and the gospel-inflected moments are especially effective.

Wiz has never shied away from top-40-baiting tunes many rappers eschew, and he’s crafted a few more on Blacc Hollywood with varying degrees of success.

Burial and the late DJ Rashad’s contributions are predictably strong, and Jessy Lanza’s two appearances stand out for successfully combining traditional songcraft with forward-thinking sonic exploration.

It works as an homage but also as a reminder that specific eras, places, styles and sounds can live on as a state of mind.