Glass isn't a concept album, though, nor does it need to be. Music this impressive is a statement in and of itself.

Expressive and loose as the album is, its track titles reveal more about Daniel's headspace.

Wonderland shies away from the textural depths the duo made their name on. But what the album lacks in psychedelic richness it makes up for with wild, off-the-cuff energy, and it sounds like Demdike Stare had a lot of fun making it.

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.

Gas is the sound of a man freeing his mind and allowing it to wander. To listen to Box is to seize that same opportunity.

What's completely clear about All The Right Noises is that it's a highly personal album. In his exploration of them, Flügel makes these non-spaces his own.

The jolt you get from Tiger & Wood's best work is missing. Perhaps the songs are too ornate, or maybe they're too similar to so much other retro-themed club fodder. Tiger & Woods haven't lost their spark, but their music shines less brightly than before.

All of the extra effort has paid off: fabric 90 is a killer dance mix first, a technical exercise second.

It's a rock-solid techno mix with few surprises or left turns. Avery can hold his own in this style, but a collection of tracks from artists like Planetary Assault Systems, Shlømo and Artefakt might not have the same crossover appeal he's used to. That said, the mix is still full of drama and striking moments.

Even as an experimental playground, Remain Calm is clearly the work of two people with a lot of ideas, versatility and musicianship. This first release hints at what's possible for this dream pairing.

& is essentially a compilation of disparate tracks. There are a few good moments, enough decent efforts and some failures.

While it's not without flaws, Volume 2 isn't the sound of a label fizzling out. It's possible that they're just getting started.

There's an admirable level of refinement to Hubris, even as it also feels brilliantly alive and ever in the moment.

For all the memories Stranger Things and its soundtrack evoke, they've also given us something new worth remembering.

For all the memories Stranger Things and its soundtrack evoke, they've also given us something new worth remembering.

"DB Rip" feels like a missed opportunity to bring techno into play, while the title track overdoes its gothic pomp. The rest are slight but elegant mood pieces. Dal Forno is good at these, but it's her pop songs that do more than just tick the BEB boxes.

Gately describes her method as a question: "How much can I add before it just sounds too crazy. What's the most obnoxious thing I can make the song do?" With Color, she's overshot.

Some portions of Strands are so calming that it's hard to stay focused on Hauschildt's expertly woven details. But the album doesn't just seek to relax its listeners.

Slow Knife's best moments might even trump Severant. But Teasdale's efforts to escape the shadow of his debut sometimes lead him astray.

Midway through RR7349, "Wardenclyffe" cuts back and forth from cheeky synth pop to stratospheric synth vistas, revealing how much better S U R V I V E are with the latter approach. They finally concede to their strengths in the album's second half.

They draw from the immigrant communities to make a sound that, to them, is completely at home.

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

Most tracks have a near-total lack of reverb that suffocates sentimentality without starving the record of atmosphere. As a listening experience, it's like pushing on a bleeding gum: knotty and perversely satisfying.

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

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.

The middle of the album explores a stranger kind of sample collage, stitching together unlikely sounds and moods. At first the shift seems odd, but after a few listens it becomes clear that this is where things really get interesting.

Despite the name, Crooked Man's greatest fault is ultimately how straight Barratt plays it.

This is a record that Biosphere fans will enjoy losing themselves in. Like the Wolski forest and its ghosts, Departed Glories brings you far into its unknown expanse, never showing you a way out.