If Uyai was Ibibio Sound Machine darting breathlessly from one sonic landscape to the next, Doko Mien is the band with a more focused approach and a sharpened sound, one that takes the best elements of their inimitable stylistic cocktail, and stamps it with a striking vibrancy and irresistible funk.

Ultimately, they bolster each other on Do It Again. For the two artists, it’s not groundbreaking--it is a nice dollop of sideways expansion, revealing new areas that neither can quite achieve separately.

Moody. Loveless. One-paced. Monotonous. Dull.

A glimpse at the album cover for Seer, a severe black circle surrounded by a chaos of stars and glimmers, betrays the album’s chief theme: moments of symmetry floating in space.

Modern life might still be rubbish, but it is rarely shown to be so beguilingly beautiful.

It would have been great to hear the Fox and Millions show without the extra instruments to let the drummers truly shine. Nevertheless, their fury on the A side and their ability to tread the line between hypnotic and sleepy on the flip side creates a joyous, technically astute performance that rewards a patient listener.

It’s ambitious, even expansive, in scope, despite the introspection his lyrics communicate, and even if it wasn’t the intention, he provides an incredible snapshot of urban life through the lens of love and brittle electro-soul.

Ultimately, Seek Warmer Climes subsists on mood and atmosphere, seemingly hoping that the listener will too. At its best, it’s an engagingly stylish record, an agreeably abstract work of oblique angles and wintery spaces.

Unlike many acts that seem to get lost and lack any creativity once they're several albums in, Real Estate have arguably produced their best record to date.

Smart, engaging lyrics are a widespread and continual theme on McKenna’s initial offering.

Perfect Version rivals no Chastity Belt album and its nebulous delivery causes its songs to often slip through the listener’s hands. However, none of that is really the point of the album. ... A clearinghouse and a reset button, Julia Shapiro needed Perfect Version and we need the album precisely for that reason as well.

Park Hye Jin has single-handedly constructed a safe and supportive space for the introverted, sad, and disillusioned — a purely compassionate space put together by a single and inevitably singular talent for other lonesome souls to dance their sadness away.

In its bone-chilling, earnest spirit, we witness Swans maintaining a power they never lost – we see them exceeding expectations, branding themselves as a seismic force in experimental rock, and here, they continue to touch on that greatness.

My Morning Jacket – their first album in six years - finds a supremely engaging, often blissfully beautiful halfway point between the glossy eccentricities of more recent MMJ albums and those old slow-burn yet highly combustible 'jam band' dynamics.

Either through reticence or reverence for the music, this approach feels half-hearted and only partially realised. If the group wants to keep pushing the limits of Mariachi El Bronx, it may need to look elsewhere.

Most of the time, it sounds like each song has been half-written, then forgotten for a bit, then returned to with too little time to create something truly interesting, forcing Mulcahy to fill in the gaps with basically whatever will rhyme with the sketches of lyrics he had originally.

What’s left is a truly beautiful, if slightly dishevelled, gothic menagerie, amongst the last of an intact Broadcast’s recorded works, and a great inducement to see this movie so apparently rich in sound, terror, and beauty.

Super is a grower--a brave rejection of pipe and slippers, embracing the mythical dance floor with admirably vacuous experimentation, even if it mines the mid-nineties, when dance music grew least interesting.

Comfort food is dubbed so for a reason, and Real Hair’s got my belly delightfully full.

Unfortunately Girl realistically functions as little more than a jumbled hodgepodge of colorless notions, and another notch on the wall.

Anybody expecting wholesale reinvention on Many Moons, or even just the chance to hear Courtney attempt to scratch any experimental itch he might have had, are going to be let down; he’s probably never played it this safe before.

The Afterparty is messy, amusing at times and intentionally touching on uncomfortable moods, that honesty is appreciated, and the songs themselves feel fine, if underwhelming when they’re describing such potentially big emotions.

Reset is an enjoyable 42 minutes of dystopian aphorism and boasts more dense textures and a keener ear for juxtaposition than its predecessor. It's a definite progression; just don't expect it to tear down the firewalls of GCHQ any time soon.

Elsewhere is a compelling debut, on which Moore has successfully revitalised the folksy feel of some of her earlier work. For a first album, it’s certainly a triumph.

While so much EDM sounds the same right now, his tracks are thankfully hard to pigeonhole--as they weave industrial, deep house, dubstep, minimal and hip hop influences into a cohesive whole that’s both danceable and perfect for sofa listening too.

Sometimes all you need is an escape; a world of fun to jump into when you need a little pick me up. ... With Love in the 4th Dimension, they’ve capitalised on that feeling and make a truly stonking debut.

Even for those of us who’d never before considered the possibility of a James Blake and Lil Yachty collab, Bad Cameo somehow provides exactly what you’d expect. Ideas in abundance, terrific variety, a little indulgence, and an end product that actually makes perfect sense.

Food for Worms is frustrating in its lack of direction, but more than anything, frustrating because it could be spectacular.