The album is quite possibly his most stirring and accomplished work to date.

At over three hours of half-lidded drone and ambient, Rainbow Mirror is one of the quietest Prurient albums, yet also one of the most demanding.

There are moments of hymnal beauty, but it's unmoored from the hardcore nostalgia of Bevan's most affecting music. The context for Young Death / Nightmarket is harder to grasp, and before you know it, it drifts away.

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.

The result is one of the most emotionally powerful synth albums in a time where they seem absolutely dime a dozen.

Tthe album as a whole is a step forward for Blunt. Though the music isn't his most gripping, he's never achieved such a powerful synthesis of sound, concept and character.

In the hands of artists as confident and unflinching as these three, the scope for discovery and growth becomes infinite. The darkest of gems.

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

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

Speeed finds transcendence in loudness and distortion, making noise not so much to express frustration as to heal.

It is the very overfamiliarity with those same [80's] tropes that makes TRST an ultimately unsurprising, par for the course listen.

On first pass, A Minor Thought might sound like another Smallville record with all the expected tropes; listen more carefully and you'll hear a world of subtle tweaks and improvements. It's a beautiful illustration of the label's sound, a warm and welcoming style of house where predictability is a strength instead of a weakness.

There's nothing blank, or bland for that matter, about it.

It's an album of gorgeous sounds and textures that prefer to lay in the dark and be discovered rather than assert themselves.

They've become powerful songwriters since they focused on the craft in 2010, and Foam Island shows it off more than anything else.

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

As ever, there are great songs here, underpinned by sharp, imaginative production.... The problem is that Lidell doesn't go far enough.

Wonder Where We Land pads its vocal tracks with plush instrumentals, morsels of melody that would have been strong points if they weren't so half-baked.

The Predicting Machine sounds more like a homage to various styles, from the naive, exploratory ambient works of Radioactivity-era Kraftwerk ("Radio Channel"), to the whimsical homespun techno of label-mate Superpitcher ("Orbiter").

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

while it's not perfect, Les Fleurs Du Mal is a brave leap into the dark, a place so suffocating, black and unknown that it bears revisiting just to see what you might encounter on your next descent.

Amidst all the flying debris and heart-stopping drama you have the most cohesive and powerful single statement from Terror Danjah yet.

Dear's latest, the four-track Headcage EP, finds the New Yorker continuing to explore what it might mean for him to be a pop star, even going so far as to bring in some outside help on the production end.

Where the artist's past work used abstract sound as a conceptual approach to trans identity, the choice to embrace lyricism makes Death Becomes Her a more fun and digestible listen.

As a whole, the music is warm and pleasant, even occasionally gorgeous, but it feels a bit bloodless.

Rapping with Paul White combines a series of moods and ideas and ties them together with quirky skits and a varied palate of samples, all with the charm we've grown to expect from White.

Such interventions, like the coughing fit that concludes "Brutal," are vital in the fabric of The Redeemer, which feels part art installation, part cri de coeur, but all true--further reason to believe the Hype.