It's a bit like an imagined hodgepodge view of the pristine tropics, like plastic palm trees, or drinking at a tiki bar in the middle of a snowstorm.

The reason that the DJ-Kicks series has remained relevant is that even at its so-called worst, it was still saying something about the overall state of electronic dance music. With Gold Panda's entry-despite its cleverness and state-of-the-art, diverse penchants-you're left with the impression the famous !K7 cycle has nothing more this time than a muted episode on its hands.

We Stay Together isn't a retread of Passed Me By, it's a continuation--but there are signs of life this time.

Tropics' debut album stands its ground as a promising start for an artist still figuring out exactly what he wants to say.

It is difficult to pick any more jewels off this dance floor diadem, making the most as it does of the long player context.

It's tricky to make music this mopey without sliding into shtick, but Holy Other pulls it off, balanced right on the brink of bathos.

As the dubstep/bass music continuum continues to splinter, recombine and reinvigorate itself ... Sepalcure seems to string all of these timbres and sub-sub-genres into a physically and emotionally bewitching take on post-everything dance music.

Patten is clearly willing to toy with his numerous ideas in lieu of easy hooks, and he concedes remarkably little here.

Stately though Dedication was, its serious mien and careful composition made it an introduction to Zomby that made his work seem less appealingly messy than it oftentimes is. This seven-song, 23-minute EP remedies that.

Even though we get Cox at his most nakedly audible on Parallax, however, it still feels like he's putting on a show, or imitating someone else.

While the record is certainly appreciable on purely musical terms--this is evocative, heart-tugging stuff--when knowledge of Kirby's intent lurks underneath the damaged acetate grooves, it becomes something else entirely: A poignant interrogation of memory loss and aging.

Schlungs does nothing to diminish Mungolian Jet Set's reputation as one of the most genuinely entertaining acts around.

Drone lives and dies by its inviolability and rigidity, but Lopatin throws that away in favor of something madder, weirder and altogether more enticing.

Much like its musical parent, Without You effortlessly inhales and exhales strands of musical influence past, present and future.

We can imagine these 32 tracks stretched out in three hours, and we can enjoy the way they squeeze into 76 minutes equally well.

Sadly, tracks like "Years Ago, Days Pass" or "Wired"--even with their intricate array of digital ornaments--remain badly in need of a proper tune; album closer "Nights," on the other hand, simply comes across as an anemic piano-led ballad: clocking in at seven minutes, it easily outstays its welcome and ends the album on a lukewarm note.

Despite its burnt album art and sandy surfaces, it's an album not of barbecues but of bottles of wine and quiet fires.

It's just Jamie Teasdale, an already accomplished producer, freely chasing his inspiration and coming out the other end with near genius in the process.

It's an unadventurous but pleasant effort from a talented artist who used to make everyone else look boring.

Perhaps most frustratingly, Scintilli doesn't have as much of a sense of continuum as the aforementioned trilogy--which is something that any good album should have.

Ghost People is the sound of Martyn cozying up to house music and mastering it, as close to focused and standing still as a restless artist like him could ever get.

Gonzalez outdoes himself on Hurry Up, We're Dreaming: a double album in tribute to the hefty documents of pre-digital, pre-iTunes yesteryear.

Audio, Video, Disco may not be as clever and as original as Justice think it is, but it definitely isn't as terrible as everyone else would want you to believe.

Listen on a good system and you'll be entrapped and immersed.

ey clearly understand the value of the direct appeal, but on Coracle, the duo has rounded out the pre-manufactured pleasantries of their debut into headier, more substantive approaches to IDM, Chicago house, and nu-kosmische.

Glass Swords is a place where pleasure is the only constant: it doesn't matter that he's playing with self-consciously "cheesy" sounds or untouchable genres when the songs are this good.

The inherent structural flaws of any given remix album also plague TKOL RMX--a lack of consistency, flow or narrative.

A diverse, compelling tapestry of 2-step, house and broken beats.