Without a straight house or techno beat to be heard, fabric 94 is a meditative set from a DJ with more sides than most.

With vulnerability comes strength, and each Octo Octa record further builds a catalogue that serves as a rich, therapeutic memoir.

Some of the best moments on Discreet Desires occur when she's flexing these unexpected songwriting chops.

The music on Warmth is among the duo's most powerful, and several tracks from the LP could come alive in the right kind of DJ set.

Seven Steps Behind is too unfocused to be a slam dunk, but there's potential for something truly new here. In an era where club classics in the concert hall have lost their novelty, it's thrilling to hear orchestral instruments twisted like this.

Phoenixxx is pure violence, with seemingly incidental moments of calm.

Once it pulls you into its core, its dissonant sound becomes comforting, and then cathartic. In evoking confusion as to where man ends and machine begins, Borders offers a musical interpretation of a very modern dilemma.

Their electronic music brims with heartfelt emotions that anyone could understand.

It's a rare example of him writing and singing lyrics, and it's endearingly youthful.

Physicalist is another high-quality release from one of this decade's most inventive bands in synthesizer music.

COW is the sound of The Orb stripped down its essence, revealing the splendor that's always been there.

Trim definitely isn't stuck on stupid, but a bit more self-awareness wouldn't go amiss.

Pattern Of Excel succeeds during those little moments that capture Bannon's way with mood and melody.

As with all of Copeland's records, surprising angles and intriguing touches are strewn throughout. But this is also an incredibly fun record, which is enough reason to play it over and over.

Plastic Anniversary is just extraordinarily clever, something to be marveled at more than moved by.

Approach the album with the same unhurried attitude as its creators, though, and you'll find moments to savour.

His architectures still have an unreal sheen, but they're convincing enough to get lost in.

Where McRyhew's first full-length approached footwork with playful individualism, this record favours freeform acid and techno structures.

Under The Sun isn't the major departure that it seems on the surface, but rather a pleasant detour through mythical, imagined landscapes.

On its own terms, the Midsommar score is a sometimes brilliant but limited affair that showcases both Krlic's genius and how that genius suffers under the constraints of a film.

Her robotic sing-song is more unsettling than affecting, and the synth backing is never quite immersive. Spontaneity is often this pair's strength, but with more ambitious ideas it limits them.

St Germain conjures up rich and atmospheric landscapes equal to Navarre's earlier work. They're different from where we last left him, but they still seem to find him right at home.

Essential isn't as essential as its title suggests, but don't let that stop you from seeking it out. It has more of the loveable chaos that once made Soulwax among the most important acts in electronic music. This time it's more controlled.

Tracks like "Hungry Child" and "No God" are huge, highly focussed anthems that would boss a festival stage. For all of the album's welcome contradictions, however, this focus does hold it back a little. ... But at the right time, in the right company or on the right dance floor, it's a powerful high that also has a message.

2013's Half Of Where You Live was largely built around recordings made while traveling the world, including Japan, so what's unique about Good Luck is how it sounds less like a specific place than a flurry of memories made there.

As you would expect on a 17-track compilation, in places the experiment really works and elsewhere it probably could have been left alone, but there are enough killer moments here to make it all worthwhile.

It's pretty introspective in places, and the concept—something about a mega-corporation and virtual reality—might be Smart's way of leading his music off the dance floor and allowing it to take on fluid new forms.

Stott's latest marks a new stage on this journey into the pop unknown, but it feels like he's not quite there yet.