This album can work when it's in service of something other than itself. Listened to in smaller stretches, it becomes a bit easier to digest, and opens up a bit.

An elegant, heartbroken album that wraps its dance floor influence in thick pop overtones.

While that pop sense is here yet again on THEE PHYSICAL, the difference on this album is that it feels written, large empty structures playing host to actual songs.

Dusk & Blackdown have an idiosyncratic grip on texture and structure, which Dasaflex wholeheartedly emphasizes.

If there's one major criticism of this record it's that its excessive length--13 tracks totalling 58 minutes--means that standout tracks can be missed through sheer volume of material.

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.

Mouse On Mars now occasionally sounds like a hybrid of other artists rather than a unique entity.

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

As a closer [song "Shuck"], it's an interesting moment and one particularly reflective of Shrines' strengths and its dualistic intrigues: the serenity of Roddick's buoyant, burbling synths amidst James's hallucinatory full-moon visions.

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

This album represents an intriguing compromise between Fell's distinctive language and the friendlier environs of the contemporary dance floor.

Mullinix's production chops have improved enormously in the 12 years since Two/Three—today, he sounds more like a proper hip-hop producer than a quirky crossover act. Listening to Three/Three, though, you might miss that crossover a bit.

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

Even the way it flows (abrupt and jerky) has the haphazard momentum of an unofficial mixtape. At the same time, Electronic Dream feels like a lovingly considered record, with the gaps between tracks blurred and bled like the fuzzy borders of a drug-induced dreamworld.

The covers are the stickiest aspect of 7G. Most of them are one-note, more of an "influences" playlist than a collection of worthy interpretations. They weigh down the already heavy album with dead weight, but the hit rate of 7G is remarkably high anyways, a testament to Cook's vision.

These short tracks hint at the more compact and engaging album #N/A could've been. But on "#2," the collaborators show they can also pull off long-form.

Van Hoen may be submerged in his own past, but the melancholic apprehension of the record is thoroughly universal.

Listening back now, it still pumps. But it's a palatable pump, with enough hooks and vocals to work as well over pasta as in a field at 4 AM. Funnily enough, the tracks that have aged best are the ones that pump least. ... Though other remixes in the middle section update the production techniques, they don't really advance on the festival-pleasing 4/4 or big beat predictability of the originals.

Photek's DJ-Kicks might sound like a long, dark night of the soul, but at least a soul is there.

Regional Surrealism [is] somewhere you'll want to lose yourself again and again.

A little less effects-led ebb and flow (and a touch more structure) might have made Square One more vibrant. The album's absorbing collection of mood pieces, though, are rewarding and evocative enough to make it worth your while.

Huxley's pop forays might not be for everyone, but there's plenty on Blurred to appeal to both his underground acolytes and, perhaps, a new crop of fans as well.

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.

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.

Lazer Sword's somewhat gloomy sophomore album does still represent a largely enjoyable body of work that packs in plenty of well-executed ideas.

As expected, the Norwich-based producer's first full-length culls together another mass of genres, this time with the fresh additions of footwork and UK funky flavours.

With a couple of cuts hovering around ten minutes, the album requires patience but remains accessible.

Some of Orbiting still sounds a little sketchy, like a bunch of good ideas that have yet to coagulate into fully-rounded, purposeful bangers, but clearly Jeremy Guindo is a real maverick talent.