The permanent ache in Blake's voice is one of his most arresting qualities, but it grows tiresome as The Colour In Anything wades through its 76 minutes.

DJ-Kicks isn't the best mix Jackmaster's ever done, largely because his taste in new house and techno is less convincing than what's in his record collection at home. There are, however, flashes of brilliance that confirm his status as one of the most skilful and thrilling DJs working today.

Rundell and Goddard are still crafting warm, well-balanced tracks, but the parts that reveal their personalities—namely the lyrics--are often awkward and strangely didactic.

Lyrics like "I can't live in a world / that won't keep its shape," on "Through Your Atmosphere," sung by Faris Badwan of The Horrors, can be interpreted as a man taking a more clear-eyed view of everyday reality, rather than escaping into nightlife's transient peaks. Butler can still deliver those peaks.

The atmosphere is so consistent, the pacing so uniform, the sounds created with such a defined set of instrumental sources, that all the pieces blur into one.

While it might be beautiful to gaze at momentarily, by the end of the record it's treading water.

It's another entry of his sublime wanderer's music as Torn Hawk, and includes some of his most arresting and sonically numbing creations to date.

The sheer number of different tools and skills they bring to the job is staggering. That's a big reason why, nearly a decade after the scene's initial explosion, they're still propelling the sound forward.

This is actually one of his more readily enjoyable albums, even if it's a little less adventurous most of the records from his long-running Pan•American project.

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

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

The complexities of No Highs are masked by its minimalism. Hecker pairs expansive and bright songs with more repetitive compositions, capturing the beauty in uneasiness and vice versa, and keeping the album from blurring into an ambient haze.

Not everything on Isles is a win—"Rever" and "Fir" dial the neon palette up a notch too high—but overall the album nails the tricky balance artists face when following a successful debut: similar enough to charm the old fans yet fresh enough to entice the new.

There are many occasions on Modern Worship when the surging synths sweep you along with the force of a dopamine rush, but there are a few others when you're left with a nagging sense that Hyetal could take things that little bit further.

Pinned down somewhere between pared-down jazz and emotive R&B, Duval Timothy continues to find insightful ways to tell stories by way of repetition. When ideas are this robust, the extra stuff becomes less important.

On the self-produced Will, there's an extraordinary confidence behind Barwick's voice and arrangements.

This is a minor work, but a minor work from a master of his art.

It's one of the most engaging and gripping techno albums of the year anyway.

The gussied-up politeness that has followed Greene throughout his career is still an issue here, making the less adventurous material sound slightly anonymous. That's why the thick textures on "Folle" stand out so much, or why it's so exciting when Greene lets it all float away on "Lately." There are more than enough of these moments to make the record worthwhile.

Lone hasn't fully reinvented the narrative thread he started with "Pineapple Crush," but he's enriched it with a deeper exploration of his music's other referents, finding new dimensions to a sound that was beginning to feel awfully one-dimensional.

With enough listens, you'll even catch yourself humming its melodies, but the ideas come close to feeling generic.

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

Petrol finds the artist coming into his own, interpreting his life experience into sublime electro-acoustic music.

Rave 'Till You Cry shows that, in the right hands, braindance is flexible enough to create nuanced, multilayered portraits with the unfiltered intimacy of a diary.

These songs are whittled down, a rare moment where the overwhelming density of Arca's music falls away, raw and stripped of any protective coating. ... There's a newfound and striking intimacy—the last gasps of the KiCK series before the explosive climax "Crown," where kiCK iiiii's softness is ripped apart by cathartic blasts of noise. It's one final, triumphant punch that leaves everything on the table.

Cellophane Memories ranks among Lynch's best: slippery, bewitching and almost overwhelmingly Lynchian.

The instrumental and production prowess on display is fairly stunning.

Four hours of dense, bewildering and occasionally fun electronic music, elseq 1-5 is a logical next step into the unknown for two pioneers.