The result is a record much darker in tone than previous outings, yet still harbours the sardonic wit that endeared us to them all those years ago

On Mediation of Ecstatic Energy he is able to give that virtuosity a form that makes for a coherent, beautiful album.

Age and time haven’t withered the power of Thee Silver Mt. Zion; if anything, this five-piece incarnation of the band has distilled all that free-jazz/post-rock/orchestral/folk/punk/metal influence into a record that’s the best work the Canadians have produced to date.

Her songs look straight into the abyss and still reach out for colour. That choice, made again and again across the album, gives it a quiet power, one as a listener you have to be willing to absorb to feel fully.

A compelling listen, and a new side to Doug Paisley.

At its finest, The Waterfall balances between mad and magnificent.

Country Sleep is a convincing opening from a songwriter worth paying attention to.

Nielson and Unknown Mortal Orchestra have created a genuinely psychedelic pop gem in the sense that it has virtually zero on in common with what psych-pop is supposed to sound like. What's more, the results are easily infectious enough for us to join them without hesitation on this richly rewarding ride into the unknown.

Ironically it improves with age, so pop it on little and often--most tracks are around 90 seconds anyway--and let it grow on you.

VanGaalen’s sixth album shows him easing more into his bright and disorienting vision.

When he’s crooning swoon-heavy gut-punches, he’s unstoppable. When he guns for swaggering electro-pop or soul-infused dance bangers, there’s almost nothing than can get in the way--this is the best pop music in the U.K. right now.

Forging strength in the wake of confusion, The Haze is the rapturous escape you've been craving.

With Strange Peace, Metz have created an album that still largely has one foot rooted in the best of their past, but sees the other stretching forward into a future that is just as riotous.

Kingdoms In Colour is an album that lingers with you even once it has finished; leaving an afterglow of warmth on everyone it touches.

Taylor and co-producer Brad Cook (Bon Iver producer and collaborator, formerly of Megafaun) use the space and details of the performances to emphasise the mood of the songs more effectively than ever before.

You, Whom I Have Always Hated is a remarkably coherent and singular piece of work, which, due to its economy and pacing, never stumbles across an ill-fitting moment in which you can hear the seam that joins two different creative forces.

Fast Food isn’t as labyrinthine as her debut--exits are neon-lit fire escapes rather than barricaded doors--but it is just as powerful.

It’s incredibly immersive, and at times it can be emotionally overwhelming.

Aftershock may not have come from the same dark hole that spawned those bad boys [Overkill, Ace Of Spades, 1916 and Bastards], but as a statement of intent, it’s right up there with them.

His production has never felt so atmospheric and intimate; what was once a meek, deadpan mirror of lyrics is now a proto-expressionist conduit for any depth of emotion.

Sleep of Reason then is a ponderous rolling through complexly changing scenery, no one drive-through ever seeming the same, more than a roller-coaster ride that promises the same loops each time.

Throughout this accomplished, assured new record, Lana manages to repeatedly freeze time and capture those fleeting cinematic moments that make us who we are, while reminding us of who we could be.

Where some tracks edge towards lounge territory, on the most part, this is a an album that surely won’t sink.

Take Her Up to Monto continues Murphy’s reemergence as one of the most interesting and chameleonic electro artists of the moment.

An addicting 46-minute listen that grows with consecutive approaches.

Opening themselves up to new concepts and sounds, but retaining their trademark ability to captivate and obliterate in equal measure, listening to Holy Fawn’s Dimensional Bleed inspires a deep, unfading admiration for a truly genre-defying band.

Whether it’s cheering the night off with friends and family or spent in reflective solitude, I’m Bad Now is something you want to experience and get lost in, and if you don’t come back for a while, it’ll be just fine.

Although the switch to stark monochrome from the blazing multicolour of the Maraqopa trilogy can seem underwhelming and slight at first, further listens reveal In the Shape of a Storm--boosted by Jurado’s hypnotically committed, intimate performances--to hold together surprisingly well considering the disparate origins of the material.