It doesn’t aim to instantly satisfy unsuspecting listeners, dazzle newcomers, or alienate longtime fans; but what Unieqav does is craft a digital world sewn together by technology, biological information, science, and action. Engaged by the imprint of minimal techno beats and gliding melodies, the possibilities Unieqav promise are far from endless, but are indeed beautiful.

What makes the trio’s unique blend of noise and hip-hop so effective, however, isn’t any kind of obvious messaging, or an attempt at allegory. It’s that you don't have to read it in any particular way.

The result is a record that’s more cinematic, darker, louder, heavier and harder than anything we’ve heard from them before today, and frankly, I’m here for it.

A Wave That Will Never Break is a nearly flawless comeback for WU LYF. The variation between the tracks and the pure emotion shown throughout has me asking why it took them so damn long to make another album and why they split in the first place after their classic debut, but it also proves that the band still has plenty left in the tank.

It's a righting of the ship back to the quality control we've come to expect from the Raveonettes but nevertheless still an accomplished retread of a formula, nothing more.

And through the tragedy, what remains, this testament, is a spiraling exercise in gorgeous music, a record knee deep in that subtle legend, but ankle up a collection of tunes as haunting and surreal as the personas and events that surrounded it.

There's nothing wrong with writing four-minute protest songs that relish in the best of their psychedelic influences, but it'll be when Portugal. The Man really unshackle themselves and start writing what they do best that they will establish themselves as a band on par with their forebears.

Weather Systems should be considered another milestone for Anathema because it is most certainly an improvement on everything they've been working towards, but in all the commotion and attention to the minute details the band may have lost sight of the bigger picture, leaving everything just a bit too sterile and formulaic to truly be considered anything more than excellent.

Her best effort yet.

Despite the similarities, there’s actually a few brief moments in The Floodlight Collective where Pundt one-ups the band he derivates from, but there’s unfortunately as many that are boring enough to negate any previous triumph.

Overall, Still Sucks transfers over the energy and fun from its predecessor, but at just over thirty minutes in length, they were left with very little room for errors, and unfortunately here, there are some pretty glaring ones. ... But if nothing else, it’s a decent addition to their discography.

Evan and co have set out on, their latest foray into the thicket may well be their most patient and under-dramatic to date. Organic and breathable are its tunes, blooming in real time with warm swirling arpeggios (Iodine) and the spindly swaying of oak and pine (Habitat).

The Great American Bar Scene sees Bryan once again settle into something of a familiar groove. He tries throwing John Mayer and Bruce Springsteen features into the mix, but the results are ultimately the same: more slow-to-mid tempo country crooners with results-may-vary emotional resonance. The album is unsurprisingly at its best when Bryan injects fresh ideas and more energy into his formulaic approach.

When contrasted with the tide of other like-minded electronic albums released recently, Simian Mobile Disco’s effort feels fresh and vibrant and with an execution that consistently delivers on simple but fascinating ideas.

There’s a light to guide Ólafur Arnalds’ music now, and it's allowing him to escape the darkness in a way he'd never quite imagined.

Lo Moon isn’t afraid to step outside of its comfort zone, and it’s a big reason why the album feels like such a distinct triumph over the genre’s familiar tendencies and tropes.

This is not the first time the band has wiped the slate clean, but they’ve never sounded as focused or purposeful as they do right here and now. Tidal Wave may sound like a transition, but it feels like a resounding statement.

Riceboy Sleeps isn't quite awful; on the contrary, there is enough warmth and prettiness to give the record some value. But by the same token, it's certainly not fantastic either, and therein lies the great problem with the whole project.

Uptown Special’s greatest attribute, then, is that it could have been a hit in any decade, a slyly running commentary on the fluidity of modern pop music but one that never fails to forget what the people really want: to dance, dumb and delirious, and forget.

It’s still a well-produced record that plods along with a rustic charm and the occasional hook, but anyone who has followed Morby throughout his career knows he could be an icon in the modern indie-folk scene. Since 2017, however, it’s been a collage of pretty, forgettable albums. As it stands, Kevin Morby is as Kevin Morby does.

The Now Now feels shockingly complete.

Wave is texturally and aesthetically jaw-dropping, perfected by an artist who clearly took his time accentuating the beauty and sadness of every moment.

It’s encouraging to see Thrice so keen to play with different palettes at this point in their career, and they clearly have enough of their old touch left to make those critical moments count. However, if Horizons / East really represents a new dawn for the band, one can only hope that its rays penetrate a little further across its recently confirmed sequel.

There are a lot of great ideas, but those ideas don’t necessarily translate into greatness, largely because the album feels a bit drowned in its own creative progression. .... I can say, however, that tThere are a lot of individual moments on Radical Optimism that are lovely to listen to, and—despite my qualms—it’s definitely worth a spin.

In its very best moments, to me, Paracosm works as a stunning reminder as to why, perhaps, some of us find chillwave to be so uniquely addictive and therefore worth segregating from other forms of music: it’s a celebration of life, and a bitter reminder that our best days may have long passed us by.

With Resistance is Futile, they’ve finally caught up with their own reality and decided to produce the one album they never made; a serviceable rock album.

It doesn’t necessarily feel as tattered or heart-on-sleeve as the group’s earlier works, but it’s also far more entertaining. You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere is a breakthrough for The Disctricts, and it’s already one of the best albums to be released this year.

Frankly, Mercer’s unfiltered production makes Heartworms an exhausting listen.