The result is a thrilling meditation on the weirdness of now.

The haunting chorus and zither strings of "Cry Winds Or Flames," the distorted, swampy drama of "Enter Venus" and the propulsive "The Water Sibyl" all offset the LP's drowsy qualities. Perhaps most crucially, Calypso also feels personal.

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

Tyla's music hovers in a zone that occupies amapiano, Afrobeats, and R&B all at once. That she's able to occupy all these spaces in a way that feels familiar is a testament to her poise and ingenuity.

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.

Sonically and conceptually, Wrecked is a more mature work than Techno Animal's last LP, the rowdy, energetic The Brotherhood Of The Bomb. Most significantly, they have the monolithic voice of Moor Mother, AKA Camae Ayewa. Her cool-headed but threatening lower register delivery is a perfect match for the music.

Across Goodbye, Hotel Arkada, she continues to craft poignant work that tints the atmosphere, transporting the listener to the remembrances and moments of imagination that float freely within the mind's eye.

The dark liquid that once represented Björk's emptiness becomes a source of love that gushes and flows through her. Where once it felt suffocating, here it feels open and endless.

With Steam Days, Fake returns to the fuzzy melodies and subtle, static-laced gleam that marked not only much of his best early work but also his better remixes.

Music For Installations doesn't offer a single listening experience: these tracks make far more sense looped, either alone or in small groups, to create a particular, sustained mood.

Rochelle Jordan is staking her own claim to the dance floor without losing sight of her intimate, sometimes vulnerable songwriting.

The Ship, his sixth Warp record in seven years, entwines various threads from these albums [Small Craft On A Milk Sea, Lux, and Highlife] into a heady amalgam that stands as his best work for the label to date.

It was a chance encounter with Stanford's Center for Computer Research in Music and Acoustics that helped Jain discover her knack for producing this kind of music. That kind of serendipitous experience illustrates what she's instilling here—following the seeds of your interest, however small, to blossom the singularity of your voice. For Arushi Jain, spring has sprung.

The album reflects a fascination with the act of creation through the exploration of other artistic mediums and the nature of the music itself. Atkinson is able to represent these complex webs of ideas in ways that feel infinitely deep by embracing the enigmatic nature of sound and art.

The whole album bleeds into one magnificent mess, thanks in part to some incredibly short track times, but also to the nature of the music itself.

Music this haunting is more universal than local.

To say that Sommer is a piece of sonic architecture of which Klein himself would be proud is more than just hot air.

Ghost People is the sound of Martyn cozying up to house music and mastering it, as close to focused and standing still as a restless artist like him could ever get.

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

In recent years, Stott has alternately spurned and embraced the nasty side of his sound, but on Never The Right Time, he nails a difficult balance between bass weight and pop vulnerability.

I wouldn't necessarily say Cenizas is challenging, but listeners accustomed to Jaar's more smooth and structured early work may need to persevere as he leads them through this freeform landscape

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.

Lives Outgrown is a quiet folk album, but there are elements of the carnivalesque and the sublime.

Quantum Baby still delivers on the kind of smoky, sexy numbers that we'd expect from her.

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

This foray beyond the confines of UK rap doesn't leave the album feeling muddled or stylistically confused—her out-there synth rap sound remains consistent throughout, for a polished, elegant debut album that stands tall inside (and outside) the UK's rap scene.

By stripping down his sound, making it more like punk, he ups the energy levels without crowding the sonic field. It proves Schofield is as much a master of subtlety and balance as he is of feral chaos.

Even with so few words uttered, it's a vital entry in a vast discography that constantly seeks answers, building spiritual strength along the way.