Now, in 2014, Vessel has given us one of the year's best electronic music albums, and it's hardly electronic.

Listening to Imagin is like pulling on a old pair of trainers: comfortable, familiar and, ultimately, rather boring.

It's nice indeed, but it may leave you craving something a little stronger.

For what is essentially a composite of three "live" performances (all produced on a deliberately limited set-up of two modular synths, two sequencers and a mixer), Whorl is surprisingly cohesive.

There's a near-perfect EP buried in here somewhere, and an inventive musical personality waiting to burst out, but Moiré's debut album does a better job of showcasing his potential than realizing it.

Whyte has made an LP that rises and falls gracefully, proving that even his brand of everything-all-the-time dance music has room for nuance and subtlety.

Angels & Devils marks an evolution of the sound that made London Zoo a classic.

In the end, LP1 is probably the most singular pop album of the year. It's testament to how emotionally affecting one person's realised vision can be.

As expected, Hyperdub's output retains a pretty sophisticated tone even when it's dealing in pop hooks and party tracks.

Taking touchstones from familiar genres and refiguring them into something completely new, it's like a microcosm of the label as a whole.

The instrumental and production prowess on display is fairly stunning.

It's a fascinating mosaic in which every tiny detail lends colour and depth to a work of real, high-minded seriousness.

It's a powerful formula, and Dall and Ander have basically perfected it here.

A solid diversion from two artists who we know can do better.

Imperfect as it is, International is proof that the group's future is limited only by the force of its wanderlust.

The whole album sounds like it was mastered from a chewed-up old C90--it's post-chillwave music, busy and glitchy, but as relaxing as a soak in a warm bath.

These songs still aim to elicit an emotion from you, and they're still not particularly subtle. The difference is you don't feel like it's being shoved down your throat.

If The Phoenix is that feature film we were waiting for, it could stand an edit or two.

My Love Is A Bulldozer is a deeply ostentatious album, though knowingly so.

There's something so inherently off-kilter about Scruff's kaleidoscopic production that it just doesn't jell with the sound of a human voice being all serious.

The first new Plastikman material in over ten years was always going to carry some high expectations, and as solid as it is, this one doesn't quite match up.

[Amphis (Reprise) is] a quiet, almost reverent close to an album that further refines the disorienting beauty we've come to expect from Luke Abbott.

A collection of big, bouncy and immaculately produced club tunes, it brings together some fine productions. But it's also a tough record to love.

Krell's still part of a pop vanguard, but his music is more than ever a welcoming gesture.

The striking concept alone is enough to make this album worth a listen. That it turned out to be so inspiring is a happy byproduct of the whole experiment.

It's equal parts dark and light, these two elements intermingling to create an ambivalent set of emotions, from gnawing fear to brief tranquillity, as unnerving and uncertain as you imagine life in a war zone might be.

This is their most focused mix yet, and even though they're ostensibly working with a finite number of resources, the well of obscure disco cuts seems far from dried up.

Da Mind Of Traxman Vol. 2 might not be Traxman's most innovative album, but that's fine. It's still one of the genre's most singular records so far.

Early Riser recalls '70s LPs by the likes of Herbie Hancock--with whom McFerrin Sr. collaborated--and actually evokes the process of remembering, insomuch as it's full of teasing hints and hazy feelings that ebb and flow throughout.

It shows him settling into a state of deep contentment, evoking the same warm and fuzzy feeling you get from throwing on a record that you know inside and out.

Ultimately, Reachy Prints is a bravura performance that lacks bite.

Hendra is an always beautiful, sometimes stunning album, if one that bears no trace of its creator's knack for house music.

Like his last album, Leaning Over Backwards, A Series of Shocks is rich and spatially ambitious.

On Turn Blue you can tell the duo remain integral and solidly at the core, new influences or not.

Where 2009's By The Throat was ruthless but exacting, this one feels genuinely unhinged--and that unpredictability makes it far more thrilling than any engineered suspense could have been.

Butler's troupe have always been unique--a dance floor-friendly manifestation of the dissenting, politicised queer underground--but now they're making transcendent music again, too.

That's Harakiri isn't trying to be a dance floor album--it's trying to unsettle the listener. And it's succeeding.

Chromeo still aren't the most serious guys in the world, but White Women is a smart pop album rendered in vivid, 3-D detail.

Asiatisch sounds better when heard as an experimental grime album and left at that. You certainly don't need to know anything about China to enjoy it.

Metal, techno and noise fans will all find solace here, as the band juggle sounds from all three to make something that sounds new, and almost natural.

Their lush synth textures are a few tints darker and their songwriting is a whole lot tighter.

Overall, like the California sunshine, it's an irrefutable tonic.

At times Weird Drift's afternoon daze softens into formlessness.

Food might sound pretty, but it's weaker than the sum of its parts.

It's appealing stuff, but dig deeper and you'll find there's not much beneath the pristine surface.

Dreams isn't flawless--the alt-folk ballad "United," for one, meanders a bit too much--but WhoMadeWho's best tracks are incredible.

Given the ubiquity of some of this material, It's Album Time is a little tricky to assess on its own merit. But with tracks like "Delorean Dynamite," "Johnny And Mary," and "Old Joy," there are certainly plenty of grandiose stretches to keep us satisfied.

Whether they're taking inspiration from '70s kosmische or more contemporary sounds, Vermont's debut album is continually intriguing and texturally rich.

Their first record done entirely as a duo, and their most mature piece of music yet.

For fans of Ø, or anyone keen on abstract, contemplative electronic music, this is a fine release with more than a few fantastic moments.

Brandt Brauer Frick's contribution to the series, while not a classic, is still a little treasure trove.

While there’s a yearning for youth about the album, it also has calibre that’s to be celebrated. Matthews’ voice, his mastery of mood and storytelling shines through, lifting this to a satisfyingly high point of achievement.

Glow dumbs down Niemerski's music into mass market-ready chunks.

With Signals, Wen has nearly perfected the claustrophobic grime sound he started sketching in 2012.

Love Letters is more mature, doleful and disconnected from club trends.

Even at its biggest, it sounds disappointingly thin.

There's an excellent 12-inch (or two) hidden in Addison Groove Presents James Grieve.

Despite his mainstream flirtations, Cashmere Cat is more about delaying pleasure than instant gratification.

Lyrically, this may be the work of a 49 year-old woman, with its ruminations on family, married life and paying the bills, but, in terms of its energy and sheer lust for life, it could not sound fresher.

ESTOILE NAIANT is perfectly pleasant while it’s playing, but you might not remember it so well afterwards.

Like most of his records, his self-titled LP shows a talent that stretches well beyond house music, weaving together funk, soul, hip-hop, jazz and R&B into a rich and unpredictable bricolage.

Death After Life is so seamless and consistent that it might grow tedious for less patient listeners.

It has hooks galore, but embedded in brilliantly strange music.

It always felt like the UK dance community was collectively cheering for Katy B's success, and Little Red shows how much she deserves it.

Melding the jerkiness of dancehall with deconstructed house, it's raw to the point of bloodiness.

They make some mistakes, sure--the vocal spots from JODY and Yen Tech are fumbles--but they're more adept than ever at stewing their idiosyncratic set of sounds into one deliciously strange brew.

Pop Ambient 2014 is the fluffiest, most cushioned set of zone-outs in the series' recent history.

Ghettoville doesn't sound like the work of a producer who's no longer able to make wondrous music; there's enough craft and intention here to suggest that, for whatever reason, he just didn't this time.

Thanks to its quieter passages, Alternate/Endings breathes in and out gradually, never lingering or sprinting for too long.

You'll have to cherry-pick the best moments from Wonderful Frequency Band, but that's Justus Köhncke. He may bemuse you, but you can never write him off.

For a techno mix, Fabriclive.73 is a surprisingly breezy affair.

Pangaea Ultima is equally rewarding to those who dive in and devour every minuscule detail as it is to those who listen more passively.

Caramel is a collection of half-finished songs that force you to fill in the blanks. It's just as frustrating and occasionally enlightening as that sounds.

Lyrically, 7 Days Of Funk offers little to muse on. Snoop's mainly concerned with discussing how funky he is and what a good time he's having. It's largely free of the misogyny and gangsterisms that have defined his past work.

The title might tell you they're not too concerned with dance floors, but the music itself suggests otherwise.

It's a record more about sound design and structure, an abstract deconstruction of Night Slugs' sleek chrome aesthetic.

Hardcourage is not necessarily his most exciting music--in fact it gets a little sleepy after a while. But once you're drifting away to the dreamy "Bells," as it saunters half-lidded to a close, you might wonder if that's actually the point.

Culled and then cultivated from her live set, these tracks have the dance floor in their sights, but with a skewed focus.

Debate will rage indefinitely on its merits, but to my ears Rival Dealer places Burial in a new creative sweet spot.

Even with an album's worth of new material, there's something missing here; the format might be Herculean in scale, but Craig's efforts don't match up.

Re-Engineering is very much an album designed to be played as a seamless whole. It's warm, fun, curious and deeply entertaining.

Eve sounds self-referential, dated and pretty low on ideas.

The set stumbles, though, when it's at its most raucous.... When Green trusts his own downbeat instincts, though, LateNightTales feels comforting in a way few mixes do.

They might be skeletal and drained of colour, but their tracks have an unpredictable, wandering spirit that makes them far more than listless jamming.

Ultimately, in the cold light of day, it all begins to sound unrelentingly grey and one-paced.

Remember... feels cohesive in a way that has eluded Fernow through the rest of his work as Vatican Shadow, and signals a new frontier for the producer that's as promising as it is grim.

These very much sound like live performances, and they're all the better for it. Short of seeing him in concert, Spaces is as close as you'll get to hearing Frahm at his best.

Not sequenced in simple chronological order, Livity Sound feels like a real album even when you know it's not. That's a testament to the unity of their aesthetic and the clarity of their vision, with three years' worth of tracks from three different producers all sounding like they could have been made in the same session.

In bold terms, this is quite possibly the commercial mix of the year.

It's quintessentially him, stuck in the little world he's created. And there are worse places to be than his realm of video games, rap music and pop so sweet it tickles the back of your throat.

These abrupt transitions are clearly of central concern for Lopatin, and it's these rapid shifts that make R Plus Seven unlike anything he's produced to date.

The image has no direct connection to the music (it was drawn in the '70s, before Halo was born) but it's intricate, strange and beautiful--much like the album itself.

As with Exai, no major new ground is broken here, but when the landscape is this vast, fascinating and intractably alien, there's no need.

It's a testament to his stature as a leading purveyor of experimental electronics that the results of those pursuits, as seen once again on Kilo, are reliably unpredictable.

Drown Out really lets his music breathe.

Beautiful Rewind is an extended tribute to pirate radio, connecting the dots between jungle, garage and minimalist house music.

A much more concise statement than last year's Welcome To The Chi, Double Cup is an exciting portrait of a maverick artist with complete creative freedom, and the skills to hold it all together.

On Restless Idylls, Lobo has cemented Tropic Of Cancer as her own, crafting a signature sound that is sleek and addictive.